Follows this.

The lift seemed smaller now. Maybe it was the knowledge how little time was left. Maybe it was the attitude that had changed between them since they first rode up to the room with the stars.

Maybe it was the weight of all of the things they weren't saying. Sometimes that weight would suffocate the Doctor when he was awake and alone.

The scrambling device was on again, keeping the cameras in the lift blind as to their actions. The immature side of the Doctor wanted to make a face at the cameras, simply because the Valeyard couldn't see. He didn't, of course. He just stood there, waiting.

"What will you tell him?" he asked.
Follows this.

Hours had passed. Hours. The Valeyard was now sleeping. The two weeks that the Doctor had rested left him awake, energized. There was more than an hour in him, now, though he didn't know how long.

He reached to his side table and flipped a switch. Lights flickered around the ship, and a few of the cameras turned off. The damage done would leave the Valeyard angry, but it would keep the Doctor and the Master safe. For now. It wouldn't be long until the Valeyard worked it out, and the Doctor knew it.

So hard, sharing one body. The part of him that wanted to stay the Doctor remaining safe and secure in a small section of the tyrant's mind.

He got out of bed and slipped down the corridor, avoiding the cameras he knew were still on as he made it to the infirmary. No guards. They were switching out, now. He had a window of opportunity to make sure the Master was safe. He had to make sure. He had to see that the damage the Valeyard had done wouldn't be permanent.

He pulled open the door and stepped inside.

"Master."
Follows this.

He was quite pleased with the Master's development. He'd learned how to behave, for the most part. Oh, he was hardly the most agreeable of companions, but he wouldn't want the Master to be agreeable. He wanted him to be the Master. He wanted him to be there, part of his world.

Over the week that followed, the quiet drumming in his mind that insisted that the Master had to live at all costs had quieted, the part of him that was the Doctor apparently sated with the Master's presence. The Valeyard was pleased with it, too. He remembered why he was so fond of his old enemy. He posed a challenge.

He was challenged with frustration and irritation and glorious success. Things were going better than planned, and now with the traitor out of the way, he'd be able to do so much more.

The week went by wonderfully. He felt the first tremor of exhaustion run through him and he believed that he might sleep well for the first time since the Master came back into his life.
Follows this.

He was an immensely patient man.

The incarnation started out with a lot of impatience. Running around, causing trouble, saving the world. He'd learned patience through the victories he'd acquired. He'd learned to get what he wanted by waiting. Starving people out, taking choices away from others. He waited this long to gain this much of the universe, and he would acquire the rest of it through patience as well.

That being said, the Master was trying his patience.

A week ago, he'd brought the Master back. Now, he was about to land on one of his worlds and the Master was still not giving in.

This was really unacceptable. Didn't he know who he belonged to?

He picked up the communicator and spoke into the system.

"We're arriving," he said. "I've placed a suit in the main bay, you should wear it."
.

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