for best_served_hot | At your side I feel like a ghost

[rude_not_ginger]

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."

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[best-served-hot.livejournal.com]

The Master was exhausted. He'd been fighting it off tooth and nail for the past--he'd forgotten just how long. He'd rested, in small intervals, when he knew he wouldn't be disturbed by the Valeyard.

It wasn't enough.

His arm was healed now, and he'd settled himself back into a routine of sorts. He mucked about in the labs where the Valeyard hated him spending time, and focused on the faint mental bond he now had with the TARDIS deep within the Valeyard's ship. Grudgingly, after a few days of obnoxious rants and tirades, he had allowed him to go back to his own quarters, since he'd been unable to find any evidence that the Master had done anything wrong.

When the Valeyard was busy, and he could manage to get a guard alone, he had begun to weave his own, rather intricate web of instructions into their minds. If it came down to his having to leave rather quickly, he wasn't intending on fighting off an entire crew loyal out of fear. He made certain that his machinations were subtle, and well hidden, then sent them on their way.

At the present moment he was still within a lab that wasn't too far away from his quarters. He hadn't realized just how badly his exhaustion was starting to show until he reached for a vial, only succeeded in knocking it over, and stared at the spot, not quite comprehending how that had actually happened.

He shook himself momentarily, turned to get something to clean up the chemical, and collapsed, exhaustion having finally won.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

When he found the Master sleeping, all he could do was look at him. He'd waited so long to sleep. It was time for him to rest.

When the Master would wake up, he'd find himself changed into a set of silk jim-jams, and placed in his quarters, tucked in. The lights would be out, and the Master would be alone, given his privacy. The lights outside would flicker, with the electricity cut in strategic locations.

A gentle knock would touch the door, just a brief rap.

"Are you awake?" The voice was quiet, the tongue now healed.

[best-served-hot.livejournal.com]

When he woke, he did so with a start, knowing this was not where he had finally succumbed to his exhaustion. He felt refreshed, and now on edge at the knocking on the door, and his current predicament.

He reached out for the bedside lamp, and turned it on, eyeing the door with no small amount of suspicion.

"I am."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

He leaned heavily against the door, his breath coming out shallowly, shaky. He made no move to go for the handle.

"I-I woke up," he said. "During one of his dreams."

[best-served-hot.livejournal.com]

He was still wary, but he made his way over to the door. He didn't yet know who was behind it, and he was fairly sure the Valeyard suspected something.

He would after that last encounter.

"What are you talking about?" He pulled the door open, only enough so that he could see him, and eyed him darkly.

Even well-rested, changed into proper sleep wear, and in his own room he was incredibly angry at the Doctor. He could hardly be blamed for his near constant state of testiness.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"He dreams," he said, his voice still uneven. "Every night. About all of the things he's done. And I thought I was dreaming them, too."

He put his hand up to the door handle, let it brush the mechanism, but didn't open it. He stayed on the other end.

"I turned the cameras off," he said.

[best-served-hot.livejournal.com]

This was not the resounding clarification of who he was that would have eased his mind before.

The Master watched his hand as it brushed the door handle, eyes narrowing a bit. Still uncertain as to who he was, he wasn't about to let him in.

"Having a moment of weakness?" he asked. "Didn't want your guards to see?"

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Master," his voice was quiet, just above audible. "Please let me in."

[best-served-hot.livejournal.com]

"I can't help but take that as some sort of warning, something about three brother pigs. Though I think you already know the appropriate response."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

There was no more reply, as he turned to leave the door and shuffle his way back to his own sleeping quarters.

[best-served-hot.livejournal.com]

"You are pathetic, you do realize that, don't you?" He called it out after him, and pushed the door open enough so that it would hit the wall with thunk.

He crossed his arms over his chest, noting the slide of the jim-jams he was in, and made a face.

"And what am I wearing? Are these paisley? They are. One article of clothing aside, I think there may be a rule about wearing too much of something in this pattern."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

He stops, but doesn't turn around. He waits for the Master to step behind him, but keeps himself still, waiting for the Master to make the first move.

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He walks over to him, stopping just out of reach if he were to be wrong in thinking that he is addressing the Doctor.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"I don't know what you want me to say," he replied, his voice still quiet. "I've given up, you say."

[best-served-hot.livejournal.com]

"Prove me wrong."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

He looked down but didn't turn around.

"Tell me," he said. "Tell me what you want me to do. I'll do it."

[best-served-hot.livejournal.com]

"Exactly what I said."

He wanted proof that the Doctor was alive, and not simply a shadow. If he wasn't trying, then what was it all for?

"You had no right to do what you did. None at all."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"By giving up?" he asked. He turned his head back just a little, not quite looking at him. Perhaps, not quite able to.

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"You know what I'm talking about," he said, voice low and dangerous.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Explain it to me," he said. "Because I don't know anything right now."

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"You know, I despised your silence on the Valiant, but we can go back to that if you like. I don't honestly know how much more of your whining I can take."

He reached out, taking him roughly by one arm to try and turn him to face him.

"Think very hard about it, and see if you can come up with the answer without me having to hold your hand and walk you through it."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

He allowed himself to be spun around, but kept his eyes averted, looking away. He clenched his jaw and made no move to reply at first. It was important that he did reply, and he knew that.

"Help me," he said, quietly. "Tell me what you want me to do."

[best-served-hot.livejournal.com]

"And that is precisely the problem with you. It isn't enough that he's destroyed all the universe around you and warped it into something unrecognizable, but he's neutered you on top of it," he sneered.

"I shouldn't have to explain this to you."

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"He hasn't neutered me," he replied, his voice just a little firmer. "You're wrong. He can't do that."

[best-served-hot.livejournal.com]

"Oh, really, then what would you call it? Taming? You learned to heel very well under his tutelage, I might have to ask for pointers cause you never would have done that for me."