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Lost Boys	By : Turkaholic Category: 1 through F > Doctor Who Views: 3820 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, any of its characters or trademarks. I make no money from the writing of this fanfiction

Chapter List
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Chapter Nine
“I turned my back on everything I thought I stood for.”
                Jack’s eyes were fixed, unable to move away from the unimaginable image before him: The Doctor and the Master, wrapped together on the bed. He let out a breath, a frown of disbelief shadowing his face. Even so, he knew that his Doctor’s eyes were still averted from the scene.
                “…You couldn’t help yourself.” He said, looking at the expression of pain on the memory Doctor’s face. “When ya’ live as long as you or me, you’re bound to make mistakes. There are a lot of nights I’ve regretted before they even finished.”
                There was a pointed silence. Jack tore his eyes away to see a telling look on the Doctor’s face. He felt his stomach drop a little. “You didn’t regret it, did you?”
                The Timelord swallowed, looking away again. “It’s… complicated.”
                Jack laughed coldly. “Doctor, everything you do is complicated.”
                The smile fell from his face when the Doctor didn’t reply. The two figures on the bed continued to recover in silence.
                “What do you remember best about Ianto?” Came the Doctor’s voice, thoughtfully. Jack held back his pain.
                “…His eyes.” His lips twitched just slightly. “Those stupid, trusting, big eyes.”
                “Timelords don’t remember facial features. We can’t; we change so much, so fast. No…” The Doctor sighed, staring distantly at the wall. “We remember souls – if there is such a thing. Essence; the things that make people tick. That never changes.”
                “…Except?”
                “…Except the Master began to lose himself over time.” He said, matter-of-factly. “As the madness grew that essence just… slid away… day by day.”
                Jack gritted his teeth, beginning to understand. “…and you still-?”
“I remembered.” The Doctor interrupted, his tone simple. He returned his eyes to the scene. “Long after the Master couldn’t.”
The Doctor felt the Master move, sliding away and rolling off him. There was a satisfied smirk across his face.
“…Well.” He sighed, slipping his hands behind his head. The Doctor watched him, a look of trepidation in his tired eyes. “…even after all this time; just when I thought you were boring and predictable…” He laughed.
“It won’t happen again.” Said the Doctor, flatly. He sat up. The smirk on the Master’s face fell into boredom.
“Oh spare me the routine.”
                “It’s true.” The Doctor shook his head, moving to the edge of the bed. He snapped his head round to look into the other Timelord’s face, eyes wide in earnestness. “You stand for everything that’s wrong; everything that’s twisted in the universe. I refuse to let you win like this.”
                There was a silence. The Master nodded, lowering his head as if in acceptance, and then suddenly his face turned sour.
                “You want to do this? Right now?”
                The Doctor stood up, his back turned. The Master snorted, and then bounded off the bed. “Fine.” He clapped his hands together and rubbed them. “Look out the window.”
                The Doctor turned again, confusion on his face. “What?”
                The Master pressed his lips together impatiently. “The window, Doctor.” He repeated, nodding towards it. “Look out of it.”
                The Doctor did as he was asked, walking to the window and staring out at the setting moon. The next moment, he felt the Master leaning over his shoulder. An Orb flitted past the Valiant, flickering with light.
                “Right now,” whispered the Master into his ear, “the people of this paltry little world are looking up into the sky, cowering in their filthy herds like cattle, and wondering whether their lives will be spared… by me.”
                The Doctor’s eyes widened sadly; guiltily. The Master slid a hand around his waist.
                “Right now,” he continued, a manic glint entering his eye, “a little lost girl walks the Earth, with nothing to protect her but a piddling perception filter. The only thing between her and death is time.” The Master leaned in close now, his lips brushing the Doctor’s ear, a sneer on his face.
                “Right now,” He hissed, “you’re trapped in a room, made precisely to keep you safe and sound, out of my way, with no way to escape, even if you regenerate.”
                The Doctor stared out into the black sky, his jaw clenched in pain. The Master pulled away. There was the rustle of clothing, as the Master began to dress. He sneered, a vicious edge to his voice. “So tell me, Doctor… what is it about this situation that makes you think I haven’t already won?”
                Even as the Doctor stood there, staring at the sky and the flicker of fires far below, he felt the presence of the Master fade. A moment later, he was sure he had gone.
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Lost Boys