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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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- 32
I'd just like to say - without spoilers - that recent... events have no bearing on what I've written or will write here. If you already know, or are spoiler-friendly, you can find my opinion on the recent developments on my blog (On a separate page - I'm considerate). Feel free to voice your own opinions.
Blog chapters for 27 and 28 are also up.
See you when I'm better (I have the flu x_x),
Turkaholic

Chapter 28
The Doctor could do nothing but listen to Lucy's clattering footsteps fade into silence, leaving nothing but the low, monotonous purr of the engines behind her. He swallowed hard, regret and sadness rising up in his chest. The loss of life had been unnecessary, simply a spectacle in the Master's campaign of terror on the surface. His thoughts drifted to Martha, as they often did, only this time the hope she gave him was mixed with guilt. She'd trusted him to keep her family safe, and now they were damaged.
The Master continued to stare at the door long after Lucy had gone; leaning back in his chair with a deep frown on his face.
"My faithful companion." He muttered eventually. "I wonder where yours is now, Doctor."
The Doctor let out a frustrated sigh, the sound of it carrying across the room. The Master stuck his tongue between his teeth and smirked at the sound, though it faded almost as soon as it appeared on his face.
"Our brave little medical student. I have to say, you taught her well." His face turned sour. A humourless sneer appeared on his face. "Running… hiding. Don't suppose you'd tell me where she is, then?"
There was a silence. The Doctor shifted uncomfortably against the handcuffs as he heard the Master snort bitterly. "Of course not." He sighed and arched his eyebrows. "I could torture it out of you, I suppose." He said idly.
The Doctor's brow furrowed hard, his hearts skipping a beat at the Master's words. Physical pain wasn't what bothered him – he'd experienced enough of it to be prepared; but if the Master was willing to actively torture him, then a line would be crossed. There would be no going back.
The Master looked up at the blank white ceiling, pouting thoughtfully as he swung on his chair. "...but that would take so long." After a moment, he sucked his teeth loudly. "You know, I thought it would make a nice change to keep you quiet, but really, it's just as irritating as the nagging."
The Doctor heard movement behind him. He leaned against the railings, easing his shoulders as best he could as the Master walked slowly back up the steps towards him. He wasn't sure what to expect – the Master's mood had been almost franticly inconsistent these last few hours – but he knew he needed to speak to him. There had to be a chance; some slim chance that the Master could be convinced to end this.
Slowly, the Master made his way towards the other Timelord, a thin smile pulling at one side of his mouth as he took in the effect. The Doctor simply glared defiantly, furiously.
"Why Doctor," He mumbled, almost affectionately. His throat seemed to constrict and his eyebrows arched. "You're a work of art."
The Doctor gritted his teeth against the tie and looked away, staring out of the window at the blood red sky, watching the spiralling curls of smoke as they passed the Valiant. The tie pulled at his mouth once more, and a fresh drop of blood formed at the side of his mouth. The Master's eyes snapped to it. He frowned.
The Doctor's head jerked away as he felt the Master's finger touch his jaw. The reaction made the shorter Timelord's mouth tighten.
"This was your own fault." He whispered, a childish, accusatory edge to his voice. His hand swept across the unnaturally dark stain that smeared the Doctor's lip. "You've never been one for obeying orders, I know. Even when we were kids… always running away from the things you couldn't control."
The Doctor's brow furrowed almost painfully hard at the sound of the Master's words, at his tone. He turned back to look at him, eyes flickering across his face as though looking for something.
They stared at each other in silence for a moment. The Master's eyes narrowed just a fraction, then he pulled his finger away from the Doctor's face and stared down at it, smearing the dark red stain between his finger and thumb. When he next spoke, there was something conflicted in his tone. "And now look at where it's got you." He raised the fingers to his mouth, sucking the blood away. "It'd be sad if it weren't so funny."
The Doctor watched him carefully. Despite his words, there was nothing amused in the Master's face at all. It was as though the chaos and destruction he'd inflicted on the Earth had acted like a safety valve, releasing all the pent-up fury and insanity in one fell swoop. Now the madness just seemed to be bubbling beneath the surface.
The Master's face suddenly changed. His expression became intense and he stepped forwards, grabbing the Doctor's temples roughly and pulling him forwards. The Doctor made a muffled sound into the gag as the sudden tug yanked at his shoulders. The next moment, both Timelords were forehead to forehead.
They both closed their eyes for a moment at the physical contact, but the Master's soon snapped open again, glaring seriously into the Doctor's conflicted expression. He sighed loudly and twitched his head. "Learn your place."
The Master kept his fingers against the Doctor's head; closing his eyes once more as the silence stretched out. The Doctor swallowed back temptation to lean in to the touch, no matter how much he wanted to. On some level even he couldn't fully understand, he knew that reciprocation right now was tantamount to giving in; handing himself over to the Master completely. There was a moment of panic in his chest as the urge became almost painfully strong.
He acted on impulse, desperation overriding his strong sense of morality as the whisper to submit grew into a shout in his head. He had no option but to try one last, desperate attempt to communicate.
The Doctor felt the Master's forehead against his own, concentrating on that sensation; distancing himself from the pain in his arms, the hum of the engines, the horror outside the windows, and almost too easily the world around him seemed to fade away.
It had been so many centuries since they'd last done this, but the memory of it was enough. He sensed the other Timelord's mind – almost relieved that there was still enough left to sense – and tried to press his thoughts forwards.
The Master jumped as if he'd been electrocuted. His hands snapped backwards and he almost stumbled, backing away from the Doctor as if he was suddenly contagious.
It took a moment for the Doctor to find his way back to reality. He opened his eyes slowly, the bright red light of the sky burning his eyes after the darkness.
The Master had backed almost as far as the windows, despite the fact that the Doctor couldn't move. For a moment he seemed stunned into silence; a flicker of fear hiding behind his eyes. He ran his tongue along his upper lip slowly.
"Now that," he said eventually, "was rude."
"What the hell just happened?" Jack said, walking towards the two men, trying to work out what he'd missed. The Doctor brushed a hand down his own jaw.
"Sorry. Should have explained. Timelords have the ability to reach into other people's minds."
Jack looked over his shoulder incredulously. He raised an eyebrow. "You're telepathic?"
"Well… not exactly. We need physical touch for it to work – and most of the time the other person has to be willing."
There was a pause. "But you're telepathic."
The Doctor blinked and looked away thoughtfully. "Suppose so. If you want to call it that."
Jack looked back at the scene. The Doctor's face seemed almost anguished. "So… what did you say to him?"
The Timelord hesitated. "Nothing." He said, looking at the Master almost resentfully. "He blocked me out. Ran away from it as fast as possible."
Jack sighed in sympathy. He could understand now what the look on the Doctor's face signified. "I guess it would have been pretty useful to know what was going through his head."
The Doctor's face filled for a second with regret, hidden from Jack's view behind his back.
"Oh I can guess." He said in a small voice.
"Don't suppose you're gonna share?"
The Doctor clamped his jaw shut pointedly. Jack sighed in frustration. "Okay, now I wish I was telepathic."
Something about the statement brought a reluctant smile to the Doctor's face. His eyes softened as he moved his eyes to the back of Jack's head. "Well… Maybe you can learn someday."
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Lost Boys