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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

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Chapter 27
                The Doctor couldn’t tell how long they stood there, but it seemed an eternity. All he knew was that his shoulders were screaming in pain; the blood on his lip congealing, and his fingers were numb and cold as the handcuffs cut into his wrists. He turned his face away from the Master and stared at a distant wall. There was nothing he could have done, he knew that; but part of him still filled with guilt as he heard Francine and Tish’s heavy, laboured breathing from nearby. Martha had trusted him to keep them safe.
                “…And they looked up towards the heavens,” said the Master, a tone of arrogant superiority in his quiet voice, “and saw the sky was filled with fire. And they knew… that their Lord and Master had visited his wrath upon the Earth.”
                He raised his chin, eyes narrowed as the islands began to crumble into the blackening sea. He let out a sigh and turned his back slowly on the destruction he had caused, staring into space thoughtfully.
                Lucy Saxon still stood at the windows, her eyes wide and her lips parted as she stared downwards. Tish stood with her palms pressed against the pane of glass; her mother simply stood, hatred and sadness mingling in her expression.
                The Doctor felt a nudge at his subconscious and turned his head back towards the steps. The Master stood there, watching him almost curiously in the silence. Their eyes met and they stared at each other for a moment, while human eyes were elsewhere. The Doctor looked into him, unable to keep the disappointment out of his expression. The other Timelord’s frown deepened and his lip twitched upwards bitterly. He looked away.
                “Showtime’s over.” He muttered. He waved his hand towards the guards at the door. They moved forwards at his command, raising guns slowly as they walked towards the steps. The Master strode past them and threw himself into one of the chairs at the table, facing away from the windows.
                Francine and Tish pulled themselves away from the scene reluctantly, as though drawn to it like a magnet. The Doctor tried to apologise as best he could without speech: his eyes wide as they turned; his jaw clenching even as the tie pulled painfully at the corners of his mouth. He could see the horror and shock etched into their every feature. He knew the look far too well.
                Tish raised her eyes to his as she passed, her eyes wide and full of tears. The Doctor tried to fight against the gag once more, wanting nothing more than to tell her how sorry he was. Martha’s mother simply glanced at him disgustedly and took her daughter’s hand, leading her down the steps, out of the Doctor’s line of sight.
                The Doctor raised his eyes to the ceiling once they had gone, allowing himself a guilty sigh. Nobody came to free him.
                The Master rested his arm on the glass table, sitting back with his lips pressed together hard. As the two Jones’ passed he raised his hand. “Get them some uniforms.” He muttered boredly, raising an eyebrow. “There are too many guns and not enough cocktails on this ship.”
                And then the Jones’ were gone; the door sliding shut behind them.
                The Master watched the door silently for a moment, glaring at it. “Lucy.”
                The Doctor hadn’t even realised she was still there. She had been so silent, barely moving as she continued to stare out of the window. The Master’s wife jumped at the sound of her name. She tore her eyes away and looked over her shoulder at him.
                The Master began to tap his fingers against the glass impatiently as she made her way down the steps towards him. The sound resonated around the suddenly empty room.
                Lucy moved in front of him with a look of confusion. His expression changed in an instant: he looked into her face thoughtfully, and then smiled vaguely. He twitched his head in the direction of the Doctor. “You go ahead, I want to take the puppy back to his kennel.”
                She paused in place for a moment, her eyes flickered upwards over her husband’s head nervously, glancing at the Doctor still handcuffed to the railings. Eventually she acquiesced, the edges of her lips tilting upwards just slightly as she looked into the Master’s eyes. A moment later she was gone; glancing back into the room one final time as she walked away, and she disappeared behind the closing door.
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Lost Boys