Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rose crashed to the ground, whamming onto her hands and knees in the dirt. Her lungs burned as well as the tears behind her eyes, refusing to let them fall. In front of her, she saw the Doctor. Also on the ground, being thrown back by an apparent shield the Master had built around him.

What crushed her the most was seeing the Doctor’s face. Sombre, but also … helpless. She never wanted to see that expression on his face less than right now. She needed him to fix this!

The realisation sank in like a ship slipping into the deep ocean. There was nothing she could do. There was nothing the Doctor could do. Therefore – there was no way out.

The Doctor’s face darkened and she instantly felt his presence behind her. Her whole body tensed up, but she didn’t move. It wouldn’t do her any good. Because he did something to her she didn’t understand. Something physical, something that prevented her to run from him. To be far away from him – exactly where she wanted to be.

The other Time Lord, like a deranged, twisted version of the Doctor, crouched down right behind her, suddenly a hand on her bent back with a mocking appeasement. Rose gritted her teeth, her arms that she leaned on jittered with strain.

He leaned even closer. “Go on,” he prompted with an unnerving softness, even pulling a strand back out of her face, before his palm landed on her back again. “Say goodbye.”

Rose wanted to burst out crying. Yet refusing to accept that this was happening.

But as she saw the Doctor’s face, something in her shifted. He couldn’t save her, not this time. But the Master apparently allowed her to go to him one last time. She needed that. And she needed to not fall apart right now.

So she moved, at first from her knees to her feet and then straightening up. Strangely detached. She walked over there like she was floating. Unreal. But endlessly heavy.

She saw the Doctor standing up, focusing solely on her. She saw him building up his inner walls just as she did, protecting himself of what was to come.

When she finally stepped in front of him, they just stared. There were so many things she wanted to say and didn’t know how. Didn’t know if it mattered anymore. Maybe they mattered more now and still, she couldn’t say them.

He was the one breaking the silence. “I failed you.”

Regret climbed up her chest. She didn’t want him to blame himself. “No, you didn’t,” she heard her surprisingly steady voice. “He’s to blame, not you. Don’t do that.”

The Master injected her with something that bounded her to him, the Master shielded himself so the Doctor couldn’t reach him this moment and the Master said that he would leave in his TARDIS and if Rose wouldn’t come with him, she would die.

“I should’ve seen it coming,” the Doctor whispered, his head flinched. “Somehow.”

Her smile was bitter, yet empathetic. “How?” she wanted to make him see that he couldn’t have.

“Because he wants to hit me where it hurts,” he answered, his voice revealing confessions that he wasn’t ready to reveal. “And he did.”

Tears were forming anew in her eyes. She didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to stay strong. “Tell me there’s a chance I’m not gonna die,” she whispered, pleaded, begged. She’d take every chance, however small. “Then I come with you inside.”

She knew the answer. The Doctor’s look was still like a kick in the teeth for her. Every hope, no matter how naive, was swallowed this moment. He opened his mouth to say something, but he didn’t even seem to know what. “I’m so sorry,” he breathed out.

Her hands flew to his cheeks, in a desperate attempt to feel close to him and comfort him. “You saved me more times than I can count. You gave me the universe.” She stopped briefly, trying to stop her voice from trembling. “You gave me so much. More than I ever thought I’d have. And I’d do it again, no matter what.”

The Doctor’s eyes filled with anguish. “But it’s not enough. I can’t save you from this. I can’t save you from him.”

It hurt so much. She tried to cage in all her grief and fear when she wound her arms around him. Feeling him hug her back like he never wanted to let her go. His head in her neck. Not expecting his whisper, “I’ll find a way, Rose. Somehow.”

She screwed her eyes shut. Don’t give me hope. She wanted hope, but it wouldn’t change the here and now. She just nodded, finally untangling. “Please do,” she quivered, feeling so weak and helpless and hating it. He nodded, giving her a promise she wasn’t sure he could keep.

When she stepped back, he held her hand until she was out of reach, slipping away. Rose turned around and stepped away from him, her body trembling as she turned toward the Master. His dark smirk was resting subtly on his face. So self-assured and effortlessly. She stopped, hate in her face. She hoped that the fear wasn’t that obvious to him. “You win,” she said, her voice barely audible.

The Master’s grin widened, gleaming with triumphant. “Good girl.”

She hated how her heart twisted in her chest, how she felt the weight of the invisible chains tethering her to him. She hated the smug satisfaction in his eyes. Hated the way she had no choice. He turned to the side, stretching out his arm to his ship in a mock gesture of invitation. “After you.”

Rose walked slowly toward the Master’s TARDIS, the oppressive gravity of her fate dragging her every step. She stepped into the dark interior of the ship, feeling the cold, sterile atmosphere swallow her whole.

<>

Inside the Master’s TARDIS, the air was thick with tension, restrictive and cold. The walls glinted with metallic precision, the green-ish glimmer so different from the warmth of the Doctor’s TARDIS. Here, everything felt calculated – every corner sharp, every surface immaculate. It felt like a prison, a cage built just for her.

Rose stood in the middle of the console room, her arms wrapped around herself. She hadn’t moved since the door had closed behind her. It was as though her body had frozen, her mind unable to process the reality of where she was – of what had just happened.

Behind her, the Master moved with eerie calmness, his footsteps light, barely a sound as he approached. She felt his presence before she heard him, that dark energy he seemed to radiate. She shivered as he walked past her to console, apparently making them fly off.

Away.

From everything she held dear.

Moments passed and she was so in her thoughts, she startled inwardly when he spoke. “You look uncomfortable, Rose,” the Master said, his voice lilting with false concern. “Something the matter?”

She didn’t answer right away to his mock question. She couldn’t bear to. Instead, she stared blankly ahead, her mind spiralling with everything she just had lost and what would be happening now.

“Is the silence helping you process?” the Master asked, circling around to face her, his grin twisted, as though he was enjoying watching her struggle. “No comforting words from your beloved Doctor. No promises of safety or salvation.”

“Shut up,” Rose hissed through clenched teeth, her voice trembling with fury. “I don’t want to hear your voice.” She had heard it far too often these last days.

He tilted his head. “You’re quite brash for a pet.”

She observed her fingers stretching out in a nervous gesture. “Maybe you should’ve chosen another pet, then,” she mumbled.

And tensed up the moment she felt him move, saw it out of the corners of her eyes. Her heart started pounding against her chest, hating how he could probably tell. He came slowly closer and her breath hitched when his hand found her chin to move it upwards so she would face him. She tried to calm her breathing, eyes defiant. His smile was like a friendly mask with an abyss behind it. “You know why it’s you, right?” he asked. “Being one of his favourite pets?”

Anger boiled in her stomach. “I’m not a pet to him.”

His chuckle was cold. “Right. You’re certainly important – to an extant. That’s why it’s so perfect.” He came a bit closer, she could almost feel his breath. “And now I have you. Leaving him wondering whatever I will do to you. Knowing that you’re mine now.”

She pulled back out of his grip, partly shoving him, even though he barely moved. Only snickering at her – ultimately futile – display of defiance.

She knew the Master did it to hurt the Doctor. She was only collateral damage. It just hurt that he got away with it. That this was her new reality. That he had crafted a scenario so perfectly cruel, so devastatingly impossible to break free from, that even the Doctor, with all his brilliance, had been powerless against it.

“Aren’t you exited about this prospect?” he taunted her.

“I’m not scared of you,” Rose whispered, before she could think better of that obvious lie, led by her irrational hope she could fake it until she made it.

“Your body reactions tell a different story,” he said rather casually. “And you should be.” His swiftly came close again, his presence looming over her. “You’d be smart to be scared.” His subtle grin returned. “Love doesn’t conquer it all,” he mocked. “The Doctor won’t come to save you this time.”

Her grin was spiteful. “Just you wait and see.”

His smile didn’t falter, he watched her with amused pity. “It will be fun stripping away your hope and love you so cling to. You think love makes you strong, Rose?” His head was way too close again. “It makes you weak. It makes you vulnerable. The Doctor knows that better than anyone. He knows love is a trap.” He whispered his following words with a dark finality. “One I’ve just exploited.”

She hated that she didn’t know what to say to that. Because he obviously did. But in her head, other questions and uncertainties were spinning. “So what are you going to do to me?” she dared to ask, trying to hide how much she feared her bleak future behind sarcasm. “Babble me to death?”

She saw his surprised flinch that was still mostly amused. “Oh, Rose,” he sighed, a light shake of his head. “Death won’t come easy to you.”

It wasn’t what she wanted to hear. But she couldn’t react, because he suddenly yanked her with him, clutching her arm. “What the hell,” she shrieked and was thrown into a chair. One whose buckles automatically enclosed her wrists and ankles. Her heartbeat went through the roof, she pulled at her chains, not moving them one bit. She noticed a machine right beside her, quite big and pulsating with fast lights, accompanied by simultaneous humming. He had turned around, but when he faced her again, he had a device in his hands. Longish, like their screwdrivers, but it wasn’t one.

“What are you doing?” she panicked as he came closer, her breath in heavy gasps.

“Don’t worry,” he said nonchalant, but the frantic buzzing of the machine beside her was too overbearing and she had difficulties breathing. His hand was on the side of her face, pressing her head sidewards, revealing her neck. “You won’t die from this.” His voice suddenly close to her ear. “But it hurts like a bitch.”

She felt the cold surface on her neck shortly before pain jolted from her throat spreading through her whole body. She heard her own scream, before blacking out completely.

<>

Rose awoke in a bed. At first thinking that it was all a bad dream. The stuff of nightmares.

Which it was.

Sadly, it was also real. She saw the metallic walls of his TARDIS.

Suddenly, she remembered what happened last in that creepy chair. She skyrocketed, her hand flew to her neck, feeling a faint mark on her skin. With whatever he did to her. She quickly checked her body, but didn’t find anything. Also, she felt fine. Exhausted, but not injured.

She didn’t know if she would have expected that. She also didn’t know what to think of the fact she was in a room with a bed. Granted, it wasn’t the most comfortable bed, but it was more than she feared.

She swung the blanket to her side and stood up, observing this room. It was nothing in it, really. Spare except for the bed. The only thing was the door which she now went for.

She enclosed the knob, really not expecting it to open. She even froze for a second as it did.

Why the hell wouldn’t he lock her in?

She opened the door more, carefully sticking her head out.

It was quiet bar the hum of this ship. It was different of her TARDIS, but still kind of familiar.

When she stepped outside, she paused again, half expecting it to be a trap. But again, nothing happened. So she continued, carefully walking along the halls like a kid that was doing something forbidden. And mustn’t be caught.

She heard her own steps on the metallic floor, suddenly she heard her own breath and felt her heartbeat. She didn’t understand why the door wasn’t locked, but honestly, she wasn’t any good in these halls either if she didn’t find any rooms.

A sudden snicker made her twirl around, but it was like a far away echo. Her heart beat up her throat, but she saw nothing in that hall. The snicker – it had been his voice. She was almost sure. And it made her angry, she suddenly felt like a rat in a lab.

Her hands balled into fists. “So, you’ gonna come out or what?” Her voice echoed against the walls. But there was no response.

She turned the other way and started running. Somewhere. Anywhere.

She prayed for a helpful room, anything other than these naked walls. So when she finally did discover another door, she just took it, going into the room. She heard the door fall shut behind her. And was surprised to see an actual room. Was this the ship’s infirmary?

She immediately moved, searching for something useful, anything. She skimmed over the tables and drawers. Didn’t know what she was searching, maybe a tool to escape? A weapon?

She only registered a sizzling noise a second later. Irritated, she turned around. Seeing something shoot out of little holes in the wall. Some sort of gas?

Oh fuck, she started coughing and had trouble breathing. Using the crook of her arm to protect herself, even thought it barely helped. Alarmed, she ran to the door again, pulling the knob only to discover that it won’t open. “Shit, oh, come oooon!” she cursed, rattling at the handle, finally knocking at the door, just out of panic. She felt the gas clouding her head.

And then, when she had given up hope, the door miraculously opened. She stormed outside, shutting the door close, still coughing violently, not able to move for a moment.

Out. Get away.

She turned, and jumped with shock, as she ran against his chest, trying to shrink back, but he had her wrists. “Snooping, pet?” he sneered.

She was still recovering from the gas, having trouble breathing. “You left the door open! Why shouldn’t I leave?”

He didn’t let go despite her struggles. “Quite right. Everything else would’ve been a disappointment, really. But hopefully, you learned your lesson.”

Her lungs calmed and it’s the first time she looked at him properly. “Lesson?” she repeated more annoyed than was probably clever. “Enlighten me, you’ve been a terrible teacher.”

His chuckle came from deep within, she rather felt it through one of her hands he held to his chest than heard it. She hated his twisted enjoyment. “Then I shall seek to make more clear lessons so even a simple ape like you understands it, shan’t I?” He yanked her closer, the darkness in his eyes more cutting. “Let me break it down to you. I know where you are and what you do, no matter how safe you feel. I’m in charge. You’re mine.”

“I’m not yours,” she spat with venom.

“Oh yeah?” he taunted. “Who else is there?”

“Me,” she couldn’t help spitting out, deep inside knowing she was starting a battle with this.

“That so?” he drawled, his hand suddenly on the back of her neck, twirling her around with a force that made her feel like a puppet, and he pressed her down so she crashed on her knees. She bit her lip to prevent her cry of pain. His head was close from behind, his voice right there. “You want to pretend you have a choice, a say in this?”

“I’ve never said you haven’t any power,” she hissed. “But whatever you do, I belong to me.”

His chuckle was so goddamn unnerving. “Semantics. But sure. Own your choice. Go back into that room or admit that you’re mine to play with.”

She didn’t even hesitate. “Fine, let go of me and I go gladly back in that room.”

His lips drew closer and it send a shiver down her neck. “Enjoy your stay.”

He pulled the door open again and shoved her inside in one movement. Rose didn’t even know if this stuff would kill her, but the adrenaline prevented her from caring. Just to be sure, she checked if the door wasn’t open again in a twisted gameplay, but no such luck. She ran again to the shelves, searching for something, a towel or a mask, something to protect herself with.

She wasn’t really surprised to find nothing. And while her breath vanishing made a part of her panic, the other part was oddly at peace. She decided it, so she’d be okay either way.

With these thoughts, she fell unconscious.

<>

Rose woke up on the cold ground. She groaned, hands touching her head as she turned on her back. When she blinked her eyes open, the room was empty. Completely.

She looked around, trying to figure out if it was the same room. Probably. His ship must have moved all the stuff.

She groaned again – in frustration. Just staring at the ceiling for a few moments.

Maybe she could wish herself away. If she concentrated. Maybe that could work.

She lay there for a while, while her thoughts shifted from wistful thoughts to more practical ones. Eventually, she convinced herself to stand up and try the door.

It opened again.

Even thought it felt less like being trapped, she knew it was an illusion. She still walked outside. What else was there to do?

But the more she walked – the more the hope vanished.

There were no other doors, no more rooms. Just endless halls after halls after halls.

Rose didn’t know if she walked there for hours, but it started to feel like it. And when she suspected it got even longer, she felt panic.

She ran through the halls, she punched and kicked the walls at some point, she didn’t know for what reason. Maybe to let out frustration, maybe to break through, but also maybe sheer desperation. She screamed at some point and eventually cursed him with every nasty word she could muster. Then, she huddled in a corner, sitting, arms around her knees and head into her arms.

Maybe she dozed off at some point, she wasn’t sure. Time and moments were blurring. She was tired and hungry and wondered if he had just forgotten her. But he probably did it on purpose, trying to drive her insane. Just like him.

She chuckled at her own joke involuntarily. At first quietly, but something more hysterical bubbled up, and the laugh got louder, echoing against the empty walls. Like it was hilarious. Honestly, it was the most hilarious thing in a long while. Wasn’t it?

Tears shot into her eyes, but she seriously didn’t know whether they were because of sadness or simply because of her laughter. She had closed her lids and she never expected that opening them would reveal the Master squatting right in front of her. “Fuck you,” flew out of her mouth, her body jerking. It was a mixture of being startled and hating his guts.

“How are you, Rose?” he asked with a knowing grin.

“Fine, how are you?” she snapped utterly dry. She was in a strange mood.

He seemed okay with it, chuckling under his breath. “If you’re comfortable, you can stay here.”

“As opposed to what?” she spat.

“How about a chair?” The smile around his lips was dark, his look pointedly.

She understood a second later, trying to jump up on instinct with a protesting “No!” but he caught her in his iron grip, already dragging her along. Apparently, his TARDIS decided to finally give them a door. It led to the control room. And to that creepy machine, already pulsating with light and humming.

She tried to struggle, groaning in anger and frustration when he was simply stronger, pushing her on that chair that already caught her in its clutches. She stared daggers at him.

“I thought you would welcome a change of setting.” He turned around, fetching something. She soon saw it was the device he used on her last time.

“No, I’ve already done this, can we do another?” she quipped. She was tense, but she felt like whatever she did, it didn’t matter anyway. Which was quite liberating.

He turned to her with a malicious grin. “Oh, you don’t wanna see another setting,” he promised darkly.

“Not a fan of this one either,” she just let her attitude run free. Because he’d do it either way.

When he came closer and drove the device near her neck, she pulled stubbornly back, imagining her eyes had lasers or something, to burn his fucking smirk out of his face.

She didn’t expect him to pause, watching her with an annoyed plea under a wall of sadistic pleasure. “You don’t have to make this harder.”

She huffed, her lips trembled in anger. “Oh yes, every step of the way,” she whispered matter-of-factly.

“You know I’ll win,” he said rather calmly, feeding the intensity of their closeness. “You know I’m in charge.”

Her feeble grin was bitter. “I take every time you’re annoyed with me as a win.”

“I doubt it’s the way to go about it, but fine,” he said almost bored, but his voice became more demanding. “Hold still and show your neck.”

“Or what?” she mumbled, but already regretted it. His hand shot out to grab her chin and she pulled out of it out of reflex, only to see real impatience behind his eyes and he grabbed it again, much harder. Pushing her head to the side. And using his device.

It felt like she was electrified alive, her body jolted in her seat and she let out screams she could not cage in with all the will in the world. Her vision blanked and she felt like her body would explode, shattering all over his consoles.

She did not expect the pain to vanish.

After what felt like an eternity, the unbearable ache ebbed away, leaving her exhausted and confused.

“Hmm,” came it thoughtful from the evil Time Lord standing in front of the console. Arms crossed and one finger tipping on his lips like he was deciding which pizza he should order.

“What the fuck …” she breathed, everything felt absurd to her in the most horrific way.

“You’re awake this time,” he noted almost casually.

“I wish I wasn’t,” she slurred sarcastically, still feeling like she wasn’t really there.

“Isn’t it more fun this way? Now I can play a little longer with you.”

Her head sunk as a quiet sigh escaped her. “You’re pathetic.”

“What was that?”

She looked up, beyond reason and beyond caring. “You,” she spat, “are a pathetic little worm.”

He looked at her with a frozen grin, like he didn’t know whether to be amused or appalled. She felt a little triumph in making him speechless for a second, but mostly she felt like she was watching him from afar. “I thought I hated you, but honestly, I pity you.”

She saw something flash through his eyes, but had no idea what it meant. She didn’t know how she had the balls to say what she said. It must be a mix of being half delirious and feeling hopeless and forlorn.

She only noticed a moment later that he strolled forwards. Slow and purposeful. When he was in front of her, he leaned forwards, his hands found the armrest she was bound to. She looked up, seeing a predator watching his prey. When he spoke, it was slow, almost purring and challenging. “And what is it you pity about me?”

That he rose to the bait alone, made her almost smile. “Hit a nerve, didn’t I?” she countered. Fine, she couldn’t care less. “I pity that your self-esteem must be so small that you have to make yourself feel better with torturing someone who is already down.”

“Oh, Rose,” he sighed lowly. “You don’t know what torture is.”

She ignored her shudder from his threat. “You have to put someone down to boost your ego, that’s pathetic,” she continued. “You’re here with nothing better to do than putting someone down who has no chance of winning in the first place. What about that scratches your itch? You lonely, sad loser.”

She ignored the looming consequences, just savouring the fact that he didn’t seem to know what to do with that. For a moment. He didn’t break eye contact, as if he wanted to scrutinize her. The incredulous grin still lingering somewhere on his face. She didn’t expect him to shoot forward, making her flinch. “There’s a lot scratching my itch right now,” he hissed. “Bending you to my will, finding out your weaknesses, knowing I could tell the Doctor what I’m doing to you without him having a chance of doing something against it.” Okay, now she felt anger running through her veins again. “Also,” he nudged even closer. “I am not alone,” he added with a mock tenderness. He skimmed her face with a twisted intimacy. “I’ve got you now.”

She couldn’t help the cold shiver running down her spine. She was at his mercy. But she was also glad she got all of that out and that it obviously did something to him – however small.

She didn’t respond anything, she was simply tired. He pulled back at some point, going to the side. She didn’t really care what he did until she heard a water stream. He turned her way, drinking demonstratively his glass of water, letting out a satisfied sigh afterwards.

He was a sadistic arsehole.

She felt her dry mouth just a bit more. “If you don’t feed your pets, they’ gonna die,” she drawled cynically.

The corners of his mouth twitched in an almost appreciative way. “True. You want some?” He stretched out the glass.

Her skin bristled at this obvious game. “Do I want to die of thirst? No.”

His eyes narrowed. “At any cost?”

Her inner sigh was heavy. She didn’t have an answer. So she was caught between her need to fight back and a healthy amount of pragmatism. Doing neither, in the end.

Eventually, he pulled his hand back. “Why don’t you think about that in your room, hm?”

She didn’t say anything to that either.

<>

Rose didn’t leave her room. There was really no point.

She sat on the floor, her back against the bed frame. Her thoughts wandered, at first incoherently, then, at some point, contemplating her life choices. She remembered a school trip where she had forgotten to bring her bottle of water. She didn’t have any money to buy one and didn’t dare to ask someone else. Not at first, at least. She knew how she had thought she could never do a survival training, hating being thirsty. And that had only been a few hours.

She had no idea how much time had passed. She wished for something to pass the time, anything to not go crazy and to be distracted from being thirsty and hungry. That feeling was almost worse than the pain from that stupid device.

Almost.

She slept at some point, no idea how long. Waking up even thirstier and hungrier, her stomach beginning to feel like it ate itself away. She groaned in anger, throwing her blanket to the side and her legs over the edge of the bed. She wanted to stand up, but where the fuck should she go?

So she ended up sliding on the floor again. Down. How she felt.

Her fists balled and her head sank for a moment, barely preventing herself from screaming against the ground. Then, she took a deep breath. Choose your battles.

She looked up, trying to detach herself from her feelings. Choose your fucking battles.

After summoning her strength, she finally called out into the empty space. “Are you there?”

Nothing happened.

Screw him.

“I want that glass of water, you hear?” she tried again.

When she assumed he just wouldn’t react, her door finally creaked open. Revealing him. Questioning, but satisfied. After a moment, he walked towards her. Leisurely. He sat down in front of her with a bit of distance, actually placing a bottle of what she assumed was water in front of his crossed legs. Observing her.

“Do I get it?” she tried not to sound too flippant.

“Will you be behaving?”

What the fuck did that even mean? “What have I done that was so ill-behaved?” she genuinely wanted to know.

His hand found the bottle, not breaking eye contact. “Not understanding the rules,” he empathised. And continued with a soft voice, prompting her. “Who’s in charge?”

She tried to suppress a moan of annoyance, tried to ignore the shiver of disgust, tried to push down obstinate impulses. It was rather obvious who was in control. “You,” she forced out.

He stretched out his arm, the bottle sliding across the floor with it. But his eyes darkened and he didn’t let go. “Of whom?”

She gritted her teeth, not sure if giving in was weak or smart. It didn’t matter. She wanted that water. So she bit the bullet and swallowed her pride. “Me.”

Hearing the word in the quiet room hurt a lot and she wanted to punch the satisfied grin out of his face. He let go of the bottle and leaned back. She fetched it, not able to hide her anger.

And while he seemed disgustingly pleased, she had only one thought. It was certainly partly delirious, because she was hopelessly overpowered here. Still, it was running relentlessly through her mind … Game on.

Chapter Text

He actually fed her as well. And she decided to just be glad about it. Sometimes, when she was ‘disobedient’, he ‘forgot’ to bring her something. She was annoyed, but at least she could predict it.

“How was your meal last night?” he once asked when she was strapped again on that bloody chair. Knowing she didn’t eat anything at all.

“I’m dieting,” she sighed drily. “And I’m undergoin’ a new pain therapy, you should try it.”

He glanced at her, the grin on his face genuinely entertained. He strode closer with a curious hesitation. “You don’t care anymore, do you?”

One way to put it. “I’ve got nothing less to lose.”

He hummed. “Is that so?”

He had that fucking device in his hand. And she knew he would use it.

<>

She left her room again. Mostly just to walk. At first, she was afraid that she’d never find back again, but always when she was getting anxious and praying and wishing that the door would reappear – it did.

She found it strange at first, but simply accepted it, murmuring a quiet, absent, “Thank you,” when she entered.

During the time the Master ignored her, she mostly kept moving. It was all torture, really. The pain of course, but also the boredom. The pointlessness. She was in her bed, turning from one side to the other. Seeing something she didn’t see before. Well, at least since she came aboard.

It was a book.

Lying on her bed stand.

She inwardly froze. Not understanding a thing.

Somehow she thought it wasn’t real or maybe a trap.

Eventually, she reached out to it, feeling the rugged cover and the weight in her hands. It was a collection of short stories, nothing special. But it felt so good to have at least something.

She didn’t know how to understand this incident, just trying to see it as a lucky one. Even though part of her knew it wasn’t just a coincidence.

She only really realised that after there were more incidents. There were other books. And they changed the subject after she wished for more information about a TARDIS. Switching from stories to non-fiction. She got another pillow. Another set of clothes, duplicating the ones she already got.

She had no idea why. If it was his doing. But she somehow doubted it. He didn’t care.

Question was – who was it then?

<>

He only brought her to the control room to sit her on that stupid chair in expectation of his little torture device. And as she sat there, wondering again how she ended up here in the first place, she glanced around. The walls of his TARDIS were rather spare. Only some sort of power cells seemed to be there, shining with a yellow-ish light. They lit up more when the TARDIS was moving. The panels of his consoles were covered in knobs and lights, honestly, similar to the Doctor’s TARDIS. She felt a pang of wistfulness thinking about that, trying to shove it down. There was also this glowing and humming machine he had there. No idea what that was supposed to be.

And there was, of course, him. Switching between being indifferent and cruel. And she didn’t understand anymore why.

Why did he bring her here? Only for her dose of pain? He didn’t even brag about it to the Doctor, did he?

She watched him tipping something on the console, trying to work him out in a way she hadn’t before. With a lack of understanding, so big, she genuinely wondered what she was doing here. “Why don’t you just kill me?”

Her own voice sounded loud, it had been uncharacteristically quiet before.

When he looked at her, his eyes narrowed curiously. “Why should I right now?”

“Well, it would imply I serve a purpose. So, what is it?”

“Don’t take yourself too important, pet,” he winked at her.

She tried to ignore his dismissive nickname. “Come ooon, what’s stopping you?” she dared him. “Afraid you’ll be bored once I’m gone?”

He missed a beat and she saw the space around his eyes twitch. She wondered if she misinterpreted some of his reactions. Like she was dipping into stuff he was uncomfortable with. He had partly reacted that way when she had called him pathetic, even though she only half recalled that. “I don’t think I’d particularly remember you,” he answered blatantly.

“I don’t think that’s true. You see, you were trying to catch me for a while, before you lastly succeeded. Quite obsessive, I might add.”

He quirked a brow. “Flatter yourself?”

“I neither need nor want your attention,” she shot back. “But you wanted me for something.”

He winkled his nose in a teasing manner. “Isn’t that obvious?”

She hid a sneering grin. “I’m here for you to torture me. I get it, it’s such fun,” she slipped in sarcastically. “But apart from that?”

“Maybe I don’t need anything apart from that,” he apparently decided to entertain her argument.

“Is your life really that empty?”

“Yup,” he quipped, attending to the console again.

Was he deflecting? Her smile was small, but cold. “No one to share it with, right?”

His head tilted, but she couldn’t interpret his sparkling eyes. “Oh, Rose,” he sighed after a moment. “Poking around to find some meaning in your suffering?”

“I could ask you the same,” she countered. Maybe he could see through her, but honestly, she didn’t try to hide anything. “You know what I think? Seeing you here all by yourself, just to bring me back from the shadows every now and then? I mean, you said it yourself, you’re not alone ‘cause you have me. I think you keep me alive because deep down, you can’t stand the idea of being alone with yourself. You need someone to toy with, someone to control, because without that, you’re nothing. I’m the thing right now keeping you tethered to anything that resembles,” she paused, searching for the right word, “purpose.”

He paused and she wished his mouth wouldn’t form a sly grin. Not that it was unexpected. She was poking around, but she tried to work with what she got from him, however small. Soon, his grin was accompanied by a chuckle. He stepped slowly closer. “I think you confuse me with your Doctor. He needs you lot to not feel alone.” He came even closer. “But maybe it’s what you need, innit?” he mocked softly. “Knowing your existence still has a purpose?”

“I’m here for your amusement, I know that,” she spat.

“Partly,” he acknowledged. “But mostly, I just don’t really care for you at all.”

“Then what are you doing to me? You might as well tell me. I can’t run, I can’t tell anyone.”

“Rose.” He smiled. “I hate to break it to you, but you’re just not important.”

“Liar,” she threw back at him. She had nothing to lose, right? “It just doesn’t make sense logically. Why put so much effort to abduct me?”

He saw his subtle flinch. “Your babbling is annoying.”

Could it be? “And that sounded awfully like deflection.”

He leaned forwards. “You think you’re clever, right? But the truth is that there is no deeper meaning. You’re here, because it hurts the Doctor. And because you’re mildly amusing when you are in pain.”

She couldn’t help the anger in her chest. “You’re despicable.”

“Quite right.” With that, his hand came up, holding his torture device. Slightly grinning, looking at her expectantly.

“Shove that up your arse,” she sighed.

“Now, why would I do that when you make the sweetest noises when I use it on you?” he cruelly teased.

“Why don’t you drop dead, would ya?”

“Show me your neck, Rose,” he almost sing-sang. “Or you go to bed without supper.”

Her toes curled up. The thing was, if she resisted, he would do it anyway and deny her food on top of that. And sometimes it was worth it to her, but not always. Not this time. She took a deep breath, hinting a shrug and a nod, not quite knowing how to signal him to go on, because deep down everything fought against it. But he thankfully got it.

His empty hand reached forwards, driving her hair back behind her shoulder, so it was out of the way. The movement was unexpected, especially in its almost tender execution. It’s mocking, her brain immediately urged her to stay alert. Her eyes jumped from his hand to his face involuntarily, before they settled. She tried to harden up her face again. Trying not to let his closeness unsettle her. The device in his hand meanwhile hovering just over her neck, his brown eyes never having left hers. A small, but intense smile facing her.

She swallowed, her words only a whisper. “Why are you doing this?”

His smile didn’t waver, his voice so very close. “Because I can.”

It hit her with a familiar pain. Taking her vision for a moment. She knew the feeling of so much pain that she almost passed out, but not quite. She knew how it felt like her body was shred into pieces. It didn’t make it better.

But when the pain eased, however, a new feeling arose in her.

She tensed up. “’m gonna be sick.”

“Right,” he said absently, again on his console.

“No, seriously, ‘m gonna vomit all over this place!” she said with panic, pulling on her restraints. And she had no idea why he apparently decided to let her free, but was glad he did. The shackles opened and she jumped from the seat, practically falling on her hands and knees onto the grit that was the floor. Fully expecting to puke all over the place, before her stomach calmed down at least somewhat. Leaving her still coughing and gripping the grit violently so her knuckles went white.

Only hearing his neutral, “Hm.”

She hated him. “Are you tinkering on your little torture device?” she cried out, still coughing, still feeling sick. “Finding the optimal setting?”

And she expected everything this moment, but not that she felt the grit under her hand move. So that it shifted, leaving a loose and pointy piece of it in her hand. Like the ship was slipping her a weapon. Her eyes widened and her mind was racing. How and where to hide?

She didn’t expect to feel a hesitant hand on her back and it was unwanted for so many reasons, she just reacted. By shoving him away, an outburst of anger and panic. Using the time he stumbled back to slip the metal dagger into her shoe. Sitting back on her knees to simultaneously show him she didn’t want to fight, just not him touching her. “It doesn’t make sense!” she continued screaming. “You always do this once, before tugging me away again, it all doesn’t make sense! What are you doing?!”

He was standing again, stepping closer. “Get up,” he commanded calmly.

She huffed. “Why?”

“Because I say so.”

Her hands drove over her face in an attempt to get a clear head. Then, she stood up. Needing a moment before looking at him.

“Still feeling sick?” he asked.

“As if you care,” she hissed.

“Suit yourself.” His hand enclosed her upper arm to drag her out and into her room.

She was left alone again, feeling her nerves calm down. Just being in the room, hearing the hum of the ship. Glancing around. Seeing her books that weren’t there a minute ago, when the Master had brought her.

Her chest tingled with anticipation. “Okay,” she said into the empty room that wasn’t so empty when the ship it was in was partly sentient. “Let’s talk.”

<>

Rose knew from the Doctor’s TARDIS that the ship was alive – in a way. She had literally absorbed the Time Vortex one time. And to be honest, she always sensed that she had a special connection to the ship since then.

But this wasn’t her TARDIS. And still, it became clear the ship was partly working against the Master. At least when it was concerning her.

She tried talking to the ship, but of course, it didn’t communicate with words. And mostly, she didn’t get any answers.

She wondered how she could use this little ‘dagger’. Of course, there’s the obvious – stabbing him. But she never stabbed anyone before. Apart from the technical implementation, she didn’t know if she’d hesitate. Even with him. Stabbing someone had something very visceral. In self-defence, she could imagine doing it, but planning it felt weird.

On the other hand, self-defence wouldn’t be a problem, would it? Alone when he’d put her in that damn chair.

So maybe, it wouldn’t be a problem after all.

But then again, the dagger wasn’t very big. She wasn’t sure if she’d even come deep enough for it to do any real damage. And Rose begged and wished for a way out, which may have influenced the ship concerning its help, but would this ship really want her to kill the Master?

As Rose turned the page of her book, only half reading the stories there, she suddenly frowned.

It wasn’t the continuation of the story. These were specs of something technical. And she needed a moment to realise they were about the yellow power cells in the control room. Her fingers drove over the drawings. Trying to understand what the TARDIS wanted to tell her. What she mostly got from it was that they were explosive. And in fact potentially dangerous. Breathing the gas in there would suffocate you, getting it in your eyes could blind you. And breaking the glass – could make it shoot out, there was a lot of pressure behind it.

Rose froze.

Was this her way out? Using the power of these cells to kill him?

But what was she supposed to do then?

Her eyes closed. “You’ve already done so much,” she whispered thankfully. “Can you tell me how to send a message?”

When she cast up her eyes and turned another page, she saw what she recognised as the control panel. Showing her exactly how to send a distress signal.

Her heart beat almost out of her chest.

<>

The metal piece was safely in her shoe, when the Master opened her door, tilting his head.

Her arms half crossed and half hugged herself. “You know, why don’t you come some time to just hang out?” she tried to sarcastically quip and hide her nervousness.

He chuckled. “That what you want, pet?”

“If you sit quietly in the corner and shut your mouth.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Maybe I get tired someday to have you run your mouth.”

“You had every chance to shut me up. There’s something about my mouth you like.” Instantly, her cheeks heat up. That was so not what she wanted to say. Apparently, her mouth did run away with her.

Her feeble hope that he wouldn’t notice the accidental innuendo died, when his grin widened and darkened at the same time. “ Don’t give me ideas.”

She felt a cold shudder, hating this direction and wanting to change it immediately. “ Can I just sit this one out and you come again whenever?”

“Don’t make this difficult.”

“Or I don’t get to eat, right?” she snapped.

His grin was showing his teeth. “That’s right.” With that, he stepped aside, pointing her to go outside.

Rose pretended to hesitate, but finally moved. This time, she wanted to be in the control room. Maybe using these power cells. Maybe as a weapon or a distraction to send a message. But she tried to act like she usually did.

She walked past him and felt him follow up, right behind her, practically breathing down her neck. A s the door to the control room appeared, she felt his hand snake around her upper arm, holding her, leading her.

Focus, focus, focus.

When they entered, she kept it together pretty good at first. That soon changed. Was she really going to do this? She had to catch him off guard, be quick. Suddenly feeling her heart beginning to pound.

That’s when she noticed something else, making her freeze.

Why the fuck didn’t she make this connection sooner? And what did it mean?

This strange machine in the room had changed its lightening and humming on cue with her heartbeat. Speeding up the second her pulse did.

The Master tugged her, but she didn’t move. “I’m connected to that machine,” she breathed out. “S’is my heartbeat.”

There was a small pause. “It took you a while to realise that,” he mocked.

She didn’t know what, but something in her snapped. Whatever the Master did to her – she wanted out. She didn’t know how she could be that fast, but she was. She hoisted her leg, snatched the metal thing out of her shoe and rammed it against a power cell beside her. Ducking. And feeling the heat above her head rushing out and feeling the Master being swept away from her arm into the room.

She ran to the console, trying to orientate. Pushing the right buttons to send a signal, hearing the gas bolt out relentlessly.

Did it work?

She tried to push the buttons again, no idea if she was succeeding.

Until his hand snapped her wrist, shooting out of nowhere. Her heart leaped painfully, her body stressed out, when his other hand darted around her throat.

She gasped, and was pushed away from the console.

His skin had burns, his eyes were flashing with murderous vengeance. “Wrong decision, Rose.”

Chapter Text

He squeezed her throat, so she had trouble breathing, only to twirl her around to grab her neck, dragging her forwards, pushing her towards the gas ray. She gasped and tried to struggle, but he had an iron grip on her. Why was he so strong?

He pushed her further, and she felt the heat of the energy that burned him. Mere inches apart, he held her. Her breath came in short pants, she growled and tried to wind out of his hands. His voice was right behind her ear. “I should just push you inside, watch you burn.”

“Why don’t ya?” she spat back. “I’ve got nothing left to lose.” She had hoped to get out of his clutches again. But she had known that her attempt to escape could have dire consequences.

She felt him driving even closer, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered, “Oh, Rose. I’ll show you exactly what you still have to lose.”

With that, he threw her around like she weighted nothing, and she crashed to the ground. She immediately looked for him, watching him circle her like a predator, the yellow energy gleam behind him slowly dying out. His eyes glinting with cruel amusement, her attempt to – well, let’s face it, kill him – had ignited something darker within him. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut through, and Rose could feel the shift in the air, the unspoken threat hanging over her like impending doom.

“You think I’ve been cruel to you so far?” He coldly chuckled. “You think your bravado can protect you from what I’m capable of? I think I need to remind you who you’re really dealing with, don’t I?”

Her heart pounded against her chest, dread creeping up her spine. She was still on the ground, on her knees. “I had to try it,” she whispered, wishing she had a steadier voice. “Being caught here is as good as being dead.”

The Master’s smile was cold, twisted with malice. “Oh no, Rose.” He stepped closer, crouching down to her and she flinched. He was like a hawk, targeting his prey. “It’s worse.”

Without warning, the floor beneath her feet shifted, and Rose felt the cold metallic surface clamp around her wrists and ankles. She was yanked off her feet, suspended in the air by suddenly appeared restraints. Strapping her wrists and ankles. She gasped, struggling against the bonds, but they held her fast, unyielding. She didn’t even understand what was happening, only that the restraints were wrenching at her limbs and she couldn’t move.

The Master approached her slowly, his face inches from hers. “You see, Rose,” he murmured, his voice soft but laced with venom, “I could kill you. And maybe I will. But first, let’s find out just how much you can endure, shall we?”

She didn’t even had time to respond, not that she would have. Her heart was racing, the fear clawing at her insides. And as the Master raised his hand, fingers barely touching her temple with a simple gesture, a sharp, searing pain shot through her body. Rose gasped, her back arching as the agony ripped through her nerves, making her skin feel like she was burning alive. She screamed at the top of her lungs, sweat breaking out, her entire body trembling under the assault.

She felt like passing out, before the pain ended. She sagged, as much as she could, restrained as she was, and her head fell forwards. The Master watched her with a mocking coldness, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. “Was it good for you, too?”

Her hands fisted, her teeth crunched. “Fuck you.”

“There she is,” he smiled and as he flicked his fingers against her head a second time, and the pain intensified, sharp tendrils of agony shooting up her spine and into her skull. Rose let out a strangled cry as she tried to endure the torment. Her vision blurred, the world around her fading into a haze of pain. “Beg me, Rose,” she heard his despicable voice amidst her pain and the rushing in her head.

Her body shook with the effort of holding back the tears that burned in her eyes. “I’ll never give you what you want,” she spat, her voice hoarse from the strain. She wouldn’t beg him to stop. Because even if she did, he wouldn’t stop anyway.

The Master’s smile widened. She didn’t see that, she felt it. Somewhere in there realising he was inside her mind. “Oh, Rose,” he shuddered. “I don’t want anything from you. I just want to watch you fall apart.”

And he pushed her further, the pain searing through Rose’s body like wildfire. Tears flowing out of the corners of her eyes, but she barely noticed. She started to black out again, and in this strange state, something came to her. A perception of which she didn’t know whether it was really hers.

When the pain vanished again, she slumped in her restrains, consciousness slowly slipping back.

And then – suddenly – a laugh bubbled up from her chest. It was shaky, bitter, and tinged with madness, but it was unmistakably a laugh. Echoing against the walls.

“Laughing?” the Master said after a pause, curiously. “I kinda like it.”

Rose just laughed harder, the sound ringing out in the twisted space of the TARDIS. Tears now streaming down her face in a hysterical manner, and her whole body was trembling, but the defiance in her eyes was unmistakable. “You need me,” she gasped after a while, simply babbling out her sudden certainty. “You have to keep me for whatever reason. You can’t kill me.”

The Master’s face darkened, even though he tried to hide it, trying to blink it away and gaining his amusement back. “Keeping you just from dying is the fun part, pet.”

Rose didn’t care either way. She was past fear now, past pain. She was running on pure adrenaline, and she could see the truth – feel it burning under his skin. She wasn’t going to stop now. “I felt it,” she said, her voice laced with mockery, with bitter satisfaction. “Fear that wasn’t mine. Something s’goin’ on.”

He flinched, his eyes flashed with something and he leaned forwards, searching. “Felt it? What are you on about?”

“Look at you,” Rose said, her voice sharp with derision. “All that power, all that control – and you’re still terrified.”

His open mouth twitched almost to a smile, like he was still waiting for her to elaborate. “I’m rather relaxed, right now.”

“Liar,” she sighed. “Nine hundred plus years, I thought you’d be better at this.”

She enjoyed his little flinch, his attempt to get a read on her, not quite succeeding. “Whatever you think you know,” he started slowly, “it’s obvious your ape brain is playing tricks on you.”

She felt the smile deepen on her face. “Came a lil’ too close there, didn’t I?” she rasped, her voice strained but unwavering. “As far as I understand you just invaded my mind. Maybe I’m just as much under your skin as you’re under mine.”

His hand flew to her temple again and she flinched, his lips were pinched, like he tried to push down anger, eyes dark. “You don’t know what it’s like to have me under your skin, Rose,” he hissed and like he wanted to act on his threat, she felt him push inside again.

This time, she was disorientated and she didn’t know for how long. Rose felt the ground shift beneath her. She didn’t know anymore. Where she was, if it was real. If she was real. Everything moving. The walls warped and twisted, and the room spun, throwing her off balance.

“Wh-what–” Rose gasped, trying to steady herself, but the world around her was changing, morphing into something darker, more sinister.

The Master’s laughter echoed in the shifting space, cruel and mocking. “You see, Rose, you still think of yourself as free in your decisions, as someone who can fight back. But I control everything here. Even your mind.”

Rose’s breath quickened as she looked around. The TARDIS no longer resembled the familiar, if ominous, ship she had been trapped in. Instead, it had transformed into a labyrinth of shadows and cold metal, the walls pulsating with an eerie, unnatural light.

Suddenly, the walls began to close in around her, inching closer with every breath she took. Panic flared in her chest, and she turned toward the Master, who stood at a distance, watching with cold satisfaction.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to sound strong.

“Showing you,” the Master said with a cool calm, “that you still have plenty to lose.”

The walls pressed closer, the space growing tighter. Rose gasped as the crushing sensation of claustrophobia wrapped around her. The air was thick, stifling, and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. She tried to move, to run, but her body felt heavy, sluggish.

“Is this your plan?” Rose choked out. “Trap me in some nightmare until I beg for mercy? That all you’ve got?”

The Master’s eyes glinted with cruel amusement. “Not even close.”

Then the pain started again, pressing down on her like the walls around her. A sharp, burning sensation shot through her body, sudden and relentless. She was pushed to her knees, back bent forwards as she huddled on the floor, everything around her contracted like a pitfall.

The Master approached slowly, his boots clicking against the metallic floor, his smile cold and detached. He watched her writhe, his hands clasped behind his back as if observing an experiment. “Tell me, Rose,” he said softly, “do you know what pain is really good for?” He came down to her, looking her in the eyes as she arduously lifted her head. “Pain strips away everything. And it finally shows us who we really are.”

Her body trembled under the torment. Her vision blurred, and for a moment, she thought she might pass out, but it was clear that he wouldn’t quite let her. His grin was challenging. “If you tell me where you got that little weapon you had earlier, I might let you go.”

“Go to hell,” she rasped, her voice hoarse.

The Master’s eyes sparkled with twisted delight. “Ah, but we’re already there, aren’t we?”

He shifts closer, close enough that she could feel the heat of his breath on her skin. His hand reached out, gently brushing her hair back from her face, a grotesque parody of tenderness.

“You think this is the worst I can do?” he whispered, his voice low and intimate. “I am only on the surface level on your mind, I can go so much deeper, Rose. I can tear you apart in ways you can’t even imagine.”

Rose clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms as a wave of nausea rolled through her. She wanted him to stop, to let her go, but she couldn’t give him the satisfaction of begging him. “Do your worst,” she spat, her voice barely a whisper. Hating herself a little for her words.

The Master’s smile widened, gleaming with sadistic pleasure. “Oh, I intend to.”

Rose’s vision blurred, the edges of the room darkening as unconsciousness threatened to take her. But it wasn’t unconsciousness. It was a strange sensations of him slipping deeper to corners of her mind he had no business being in. It was invasion. In a way she couldn’t understand but still unmistakeably felt. She was gasping for air, voices and pictures suddenly flooding her mind, but she couldn’t really see or hear.

Until she heard his voice, of course. “You don’t win. Not here. Not ever.” His voice was so close. Which made probably sense. It was inside her. “Because no matter how strong you fancy yourself, you are still mine.”

She had no time to protest. Because the pictures became coherent. And it chocked her throat, the weight in her chest getting so heavy, she wanted to burst into tears.

Because she saw the Doctor.

She ached for him. For him to be there. To hold her. To save her.

And against all her willpower – like he dug out all her emotions – a sudden sob escaped her. Eyes pressing close and every fibre of her tense to hold anything else in. But she was exhausted, fighting against pain and emotions and him squirming through her mind, pushing all her thoughts to the side.

She didn’t know what was real, exactly. She presumed everything here wasn’t. But she still felt his fingers under her chin, lifting it gently. She opened her lids even though she didn’t want to. “Ah, tears of a different caliber at last,” he said and she felt so much hate towards him. “You miss him?”

What to say to his rhetorical question? Her eyes wandered and it suddenly was like she was free. She wished to run to him, to the Doctor, and so she suddenly was. And she already felt his warmth when they’d hug. And she’d wake up from this nightmare. She would be safe. She saw his smile getting bigger in anticipation.

Only for someone else to get in the picture. Another woman. Running to him and getting that hug that Rose so desperately craved.

She stopped and her heart sank so deep, it went right through the floor.

She didn’t even feel disappointment. She just felt empty.

And then she heard his amused chuckle. Coming closer, when he stepped to her side. “He’ll always be okay, right? Off to the next one,” he mocked.

“I don’t want him to be alone,” she said automatically. “Not in the long run.”

“But what happens when he does find someone new?” He was too close, right beneath her skin. “When he forgets about you? When you’re just another face, another name in a long line of lost companions?”

Rose’s throat tightened, her breath catching as the Master’s words struck at the heart of her deepest fear. The one she didn’t want to have, the one that made her feel petty.

“Face it,” he continued, his tone dripping with cruelty. “You’re replaceable, Rose. The Doctor has already done it before. You met one, Sarah Jane, wasn’t it? He found you. And there will be another. Always another.”

Rose gritted her teeth. “He won’t forget me.”

“Won’t he?” The Master turned opposite to her to meet her eye to eye, his voice softening into a whisper. “You think you’re special. You think he’ll mourn for you forever. But that’s not how it works, Rose. You’re just a chapter in his endless story. A chapter that, when it’s closed, will fade into memory. He’ll find another bright-eyed girl to take your place – someone younger, eager, full of hope.”

His words sliced through her, each one expertly aimed at her insecurities, peeling back the layers of confidence she had been clinging to. She had seen it happen. She knew how the Doctor moved on, how he found new people to fill the spaces others had left behind.

She didn’t know if tears were running down her cheeks, her emotions a storm inside her chest. It hurt so much and she hated that, because she knew it was designed to hurt her. Through her head run a mantra of He’llSaveMeHe’llSaveMeHe’llSaveMe, believing it, but also fearing of sounding pathetic.

She didn’t need to say it out loud, of course. The Master’s grin was ice cold. “He won’t,” he promised her, before his gaze softened into something more insidious, almost pitying. “You’re clinging to hope again. It’s a lovely little thing, isn’t it? But let’s be honest – you’re terrified of being forgotten. Of being invalid. Of being not good enough. Isn’t that right?”

Her heart pounded in her chest, the words hitting too close to home, igniting a raw wound inside her. Concerning the Doctor just leaving her behind, but also her feeling inadequate. In every way. Reaching even further back. Hearing it aloud, hearing it twisted and sharpened by the Master’s cruel tongue – it hurt. Her eyes burned. Her whole body burned.

“And you think he’s searching for you, but the truth is, Rose …” the Master continued, his voice soft. “The truth is he’s already looking for your replacement.”

StopStopStopStop!

Rose’s stomach churned, and for a moment, she faltered. Trying to glare up at him, knowing how feeble that must look. “You don’t know him like I do.”

“No,” he agreed, but his smirk morphed into something darker. “I know him better. I know how he moves on. How he forgets. And you? You’ll be nothing but a fading memory. A ghost. With someone new to fill the void.”

Rose didn’t expect – amidst her whirlwind of emotions – to pick something up.

Fill the void.

“And how are you filling that void, then?” she snapped. “You’ve got me to fill that emptiness inside your pathetic existence. To feel in control, however miserable. Is that what terrifies you? The Doctor will always have someone. But you? You’re alone.”

The words were like venom, spit with fury, and for the first time, the Master’s smile faltered. Just for a fraction of a second, but it was enough.

Alone.

It wasn’t much, but it was the second time he reacted to that.

His smile in place, he stepped closer, into her personal space. And she felt his presence all around her, catching her and taking her air to breathe. “I already told you I’ve got you. You’re mine to have, to keep, to play with.”

Rose clenched her jaw, the fear gnawing at the edges of her defiance and her potentially imagined triumph. “You don’t own me,” she spat, the fire in her voice burning bright despite the tremor she tried to suppress. “I’ll never be yours.”

“Oh, Rose,” he sighed and his hand came up to softly land on her cheek. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t flee, even though everything in her screamed to run. “You’re already mine. You just don’t see it yet.”

Before she could respond, he reached out with the other hand, grabbing her by the wrist and yanking her into him with a strength that startled her. She tried to pull back, to resist, but his grip was iron, and his mental power over her unyielding. “Let me make you see,” he whispered. His thumb brushed over her jawline, almost tender, but the cruelty in his eyes betrayed the malice behind the gesture.

Before she could react, before she could even process his words, Rose felt something cold and invasive brush against her mind. It wasn’t like the sharp, calculated mental attacks she had felt before. The ones bringing her physical pain. It was more like the last one, peeling away her defences. Slipping through her like she was butter. Only now it was even deeper, more intimate. It was as though the Master was prying open her thoughts, searching for something raw and vulnerable to exploit.

“No!” she gasped, trying to pull away, but his grip on her tightened, and the pressure inside her head grew. It was as if icy tendrils were wrapping around her thoughts, dragging her down into a dark abyss. Her panic was back in full force, she felt utterly helpless.

She was utterly helpless.

“You wanted to play this game,” the Master whispered, his voice soft, coaxing. “Now let’s see how you fare when I strip away all your bravado.”

Rose’s heart pounded wildly in her chest as she tried to resist, tried to shove him out of her mind, but she had no idea how and the Master was relentless. She was like a kid playing chess against a pro. She could feel him peeling back the layers of her defences, pushing deeper, sinking his claws into her most private fears.

The cold grip on her mind tightened, and Rose let out a strangled cry as images began to flood her vision. The images they had talked about. Her most vulnerable moments laid bare. The Doctor’s smile fading, his eyes growing distant, him walking away, his figure disappearing into the fog. Leaving her behind. But also real memories, little ones, little disappointments with him that cut deeper than she wanted them to. Laying bare her pain.

But the Master’s influence shifted even further, her eyes flew open, she panted as he was drilling even deeper into her mind, past her memories and into her private thoughts, her fantasies. Rose gasped as she felt him push further into a space she had never intended for anyone to see.

“Oh, how interesting.” The Master’s voice curled around her thoughts like a serpent, wrapping around her most intimate dreams, the ones she barely even admitted to herself. She could feel him rifling through them, pulling them apart, exposing everything. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“Get out!” She didn’t even know if she whispered or screamed. “Get out, please.”

She felt his chuckle rather then hearing it. His lips brushed her ear, when he spoke, “Begging me, after all.” Fingers stroked over her chin and jaw. “That scratches quite an itch of mine.”

She shuddered, tears streaming down her face again, wetting it anew.

“All these little fantasies. Really, I could learn something,” he taunted her. And he probed further, finding out if her memories echoed her fantasies. And then, a cruel laugh escaped his lips. “You never even fucked him, did you?”

Rose froze, a cold wave of horror washing over her as the Master’s voice turned sharp, mocking. “All that time, all that closeness, and yet ...” His laughter was sharp and bitter, like glass shattering in the dark. “He never touched you. Not the way you wanted him to, at least. You were nothing more than a companion. A pet.”

“Stop it!” Rose cried, her voice cracking under the weight of his words, but the Master’s laughter only grew louder, more cutting.

“You wanted him, didn’t you? Desperately.” His voice dripped with sadistic amusement. “All those nights you imagined him coming to you, imagined him fucking you. But it never happened, did it? No matter how close you got, no matter how much you wanted him ... you were never enough,” he went back to her main fears, twisting the knife.

Rose’s breath hitched, and she tried to fight back, tried to push herself away or him out but every attempt fizzling out before it started. “And that’s the thing, isn’t it?” the Master whispered, his voice almost gentle now, though it was laced with malice. “You weren’t enough for him. He didn’t want you, not in the way you wanted him. He won’t sweep you off your feet and make all those fantasies come true. He will move on. While you’re stuck here. With me.”

Somehow that last bit terrified her even more, something about it shaking her to the core. Her eyes flew open, watching his close face. She wanted his suffocating weight gone. There was no air to breathe, to scream, to fight, to push him out of her mind, because his grip was too strong, too deep.

“Get out,” she choked again, her voice weak but filled with desperate defiance and cold anger. “Get out of my head. Now!”

The Master’s smile only widened, and for a moment, he didn’t move. He lingered, his presence heavy, as though savouring every moment of her pain. Skimming her face like he was deciding if there was something else to add.

Then, slowly, he withdrew.

With a sudden, dizzying motion, the room around them shifted again, she only half-heartedly recognised that they were in her room.

She had expected that him slipping out would feel liberating or relieving. Which it did in a way. But she only now realised how drained, hollow and weakened she felt.

Rose collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath, her mind reeling from the invasion. Her body trembled, her heart pounded violently in her chest as she tried to pull herself together. But the floor and the walls melted into a formless black abyss. It was like floating in nothingness, no sense of up or down – just an endless, suffocating void. The air was thick and the silence was oppressive. And she wanted to surrender.

But he wasn’t done.

He crouched down beside her, so close that she could feel the heat of his body. “Doesn’t it feel good to have that off your chest?”

Why won’t you just stop? Stop it, please.

“Doesn’t it feel liberating to have the truth laid bare between us? I, for one, feel us being so much closer.” There was clear mocking, but it was trenched in something darker. His hand reached out to linger near her cheek, his fingers ghosting over her skin, sending a shiver of revulsion through her. Rose flinched, turning her head away, but he caught her chin with surprising gentleness, forcing her to look at him. His eyes bore into hers, dark and filled with a strange, twisted intensity. “Don’t look away,” he murmured, his tone low and almost intimate. “Face the truth.”

“What truth?” Rose spat, glad her voice wasn’t betraying her completely. “There’s nothing laid bare between us, just you invading my mind.”

The Master chuckled softly, but the sound held no real humour. “Almost true.” His thumb brushed unexpectedly over her lower lip, slow and deliberate, as if savouring the feel of her trembling beneath his touch.

Rose recoiled, the sensation making her skin crawl, but his grip tightened just enough to keep her still. She could feel the shift in him – something sinister, more predatory, lurking beneath the surface. “I could destroy you, if I wanted,” he said softly, his voice dropping to a low, seductive murmur and her whole body shuddered. Everything was too much. Her eyes screwed shut. “But don’t you worry,” he breathed. “I won’t leave you behind like your Doctor. Maybe I do need you. Just you and me. Till the very end. All alone.”

Her lids snapped open, and she shoved at his chest, her strength returning with the surge of disgust that rippled through her. “Don’t you dare,” she spat, venom in her voice now, fuelled by the horror of what he was insinuating. Also because she knew he could just do it. Continue to torture her. With her having no chance to defend herself.

But the Master merely laughed, catching her wrists easily in his hands, his grip firm but not painful. It didn’t need to be, her body was utterly weakened. He leaned in closer, so close that his breath mingled with hers, his eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her stomach twist. “But that was stressed you out with him, didn’t it? The uncertainty, the inconstancy? I hereby promise you that you can have certainty with me.”

He was taunting her of course, writhing in his obvious twisted reasoning, but she hated everything about it.

Rose’s jaw clenched as she glared up at him, her heart pounding in her chest at his proximity. “No matter what you do,” she spat, her voice trembling but fierce, “You know I would never choose your deranged company willingly.”

The Master’s smile didn’t waver. Instead, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear. “Who ever said you have a choice?”

With that, he finally let her go, giving her a soft shove. She was so finished, she simply let herself fall to the ground. So thankful that his steps walked away already.

Chapter Text

The silence in this TARDIS was heavy, pressing down on Rose like a weight she couldn’t shake. After the Master left her lying on the cold floor, she remained there, curled up, her arms wrapped around her knees as if that small act of self-protection could shield her from the storm raging inside her.

Her skin still crawled from his touch, from the way he had twisted everything so viciously, so personally. Every word he spoke felt like a knife, cutting into places she thought she had long buried. The humiliation of it all churned her stomach, making her feel nauseous, disgusted with herself, with him – with everything.

She pressed her palms against her temples, trying to push his voice out of her head, but it echoed relentlessly in her mind.

Not enough that he dug into her brain, pulling out thoughts and pictures she wanted buried, his mental touch still lingered. Was this how telepathy felt like? The Doctor had never used telepathy with her, so she had no reference at all.

The Doctor.

She squeezed her eyes shut, hot tears stinging behind her eyelids.

She felt so bloody vulnerable right now. She wanted to convolve and wait until the Doctor came saving her. While all her insecurities – bluntly dug out by the Master – screaming at her that he wouldn’t come. Because she just wasn’t that important.

She would die here, wouldn’t she?

Alone and unmourned.

She felt pathetic. She had feelings for the Doctor, but more than anything she wanted to matter to him. In whatever way. And it was so paradoxal, because they understood each other without words, just clicking. But at the same time, there had always been that distance. Always walls, layers of protection he’d built around himself that she could never quite break through. And it was driving an inner portion of her crazy. A part of her that she would never let out. Because it was never meant for other eyes.

Until now. With the Master tearing through her defences and exposing the parts of her she hated most. The fear that she wasn’t enough. That she’d never be enough.

The tears she had been holding back finally slipped down her cheeks, as she stared blankly at the floor. She eventually wiped them away with the back of her hand, angry at herself for crying, angry at the universe for putting her in this nightmare. It felt like a wound ripped open, like her fears were swimming on the surface now, swallowing her whole, so she was drowning in them.

What the fuck did he do?

She felt weak, shredded and eviscerated. With no power to pick up the pieces and put them back together. Like someone ravaged her home and drugged her to leave her laying in the corner and she was expected to clean up the mess.

She didn’t know how long she lay there. Apart from the emotional turmoil, it felt like she had muscle ache – only in her mind. Which was extremely weird.

At some point she dragged herself off the floor and into her bed. She managed to lie down and pull the covers over her shoulders. Then, she let herself sink into sleep like she sank into a tide.

The dreams came in waves, pulling Rose under while she slept, twisted and struggling. At first they were innocent enough – memories of the Doctor, of their adventures in the stars. They felt familiar, like fragments of a life she had lost. She could feel the wind on her face, the warmth of the Doctor’s hand in hers as they ran through some alien landscape, laughing, breathless. But there was always some looming in the background. Something unreal. Something about to happen.

Until the dreams began to shift even more.

She lay in her bed in that dream. She at least thought it was a dream. The Doctor beside her, just staring at each other. But then, his smile, so full of light, began to darken, became distorted. His eyes, once filled with kindness and understanding, turned cold. Rose reached for him in an attempt to understand, but he pulled away.

Not good enough.

Rose shifted in her bed. Was she awake? Asleep? The Doctor wasn’t there anymore. She was all alone.

Only that she wasn’t.

Someone’s taken the Doctor’s place. The hand she had reached out to, was now reaching out to hers, touching it. But it wasn’t the Doctor being there.

“Having trouble sleeping, Rose?” the Master suddenly lay there, opposite to her, both on their sides, and Rose jumped, trying to pull her hand back, heart pounding in her chest, but the dream itself was warped, trapping her, her limbs felt like they were stuck in quicksand. Instantly her throat tightened because of a rising panic inside her. “Stop,” she whispered. Why did he attack again?

But the Master only smiled, a smile that dripped with mockery and something far more twisted. “I thought it was an invitation. You felt so alone. Right?”

“Why can’t I move?”

He winked. “Because I wish it. My rules.” He actually let go of her hand. Only to stretch out his hand to touch her shoulder with his fingers. It was a light touch, but when he drove them slowly down the skin of her arm, it was too light, too intimate.

Goosebumps spread on her arm, tension spiked in her whole body. “I swear, if you …”

“What?” he spat ruthlessly, his eyes had something snotty. “Whatcha gonna do about it?” His hand stroked further, and he watched the movement, almost as if he was hypnotised. She felt his fingers move past her elbow, down her arm to her hand again. The touch, innocent enough, still felt so wrong. “I kind of like it when you don’t struggle.”

Cold spread from her heart into her limbs. Her lips quivered as she still tried to move. “I’d rather move. And don’t fucking touch me.”

Despite his statement, he seemed amused, grin widening. And with the next blink, she was free. And somewhere else. Standing in her old room, actually. On Earth.

“Thinking of more innocent times?” he breathed down her neck and she jumped, twirling around, but he caught her wrists, preventing her from fleeing. “Now, now,” he warned. “I can take your ability to move away again.”

“You are such a psycho.” Her voice was unsteady.

“Oh, you have no idea,” he promised.

“Why bring me here?”

“I’m just along for the ride on this one.” He pulled her closer, slowly, and she tried to hold against it, but she slid towards him anyway. His unnerving smile not budging. “Do you wish none of this had ever happened?” he murmured. “Preserving your innocence?”

The door opened. And Jackie came in.

“Mum,” Rose whispered, but Jackie didn’t seem to hear her. Just rummaging around. “Mum!” she tried louder and tears were filling up her eyes. In a way, he was right. She wished for easier times.

The Master was behind her suddenly, lips on her ear. “She can’t hear you, Rose. Nobody can hear you. Only me.”

Rose felt so helpless as she watched her mother go out of the room again.

“Don’t worry,” he purred, his voice thick with false tenderness. “I’ll take care of you now.”

Rose recoiled, trying to bring some distance between them again, but it didn’t work. He was there, brushing her cheek, his touch light but suffocating, like a cage closing in around her. She tried to struggle, push him away, out of her mind, just away. It was like his hands cradled her cheeks. “Shshsh,” he whispered, pulling her in again. “Where would you even go, pet?”

“Away from you, it doesn’t matter where!” she tried to shout.

“But I promise I won’t leave you,” he mocked her, still holding her close, nose to nose, revelling in her horror. “Not like he did.”

Rose squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block him out, but it was no use. He was in her mind, manipulating everything, twisting every fear, every longing, until she didn’t know what was real anymore. “I don’t want you,” she whispered, but she should be screaming the words. His proximity influenced her in ways she couldn’t comprehend.

The Master chuckled softly, still holding her close. “You will stop fighting at some point,” he whispered, his lips ghosting against her temple. “I’ll make sure of that.”

And then, just as the darkness seemed to close in on her completely, suffocating her under its weight, Rose jolted awake.

Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath was ragged as she shot upright in bed, her body drenched in sweat. For a moment, she was disoriented, the dream lingering at the edges of her mind.

But then she saw him.

The Master sat in the corner of the room, watching her with a smug, predatory smile. His legs were crossed, one hand casually draped over the armrest of his chair, as if he had been sitting there for hours, savouring every moment of her nightmare.

Rose’s breath caught in her throat, her entire body tensing as the realisation hit her like a freight train. She probably knew before, but everything had been accompanied by this nightmarish state. “You,” she gasped, her voice trembling with both rage and fear. “You invaded my dreams.”

The Master’s smile widened, his eyes gleaming with twisted satisfaction. “Such vivid dreams, Rose. It was hard to resist.”

Her stomach twisted as his words settled in, the nauseating sense of violation making her skin crawl. “You psychotic, sick bastard,” she spat, her voice shaking with a mixture of fury and revulsion.

He chuckled again, briefly looking away. “Like I said, you only know half of it.”

“Aren’t you a touch telepath?” How could he invade her telepathically, when he was sitting over there?

He tilted his head curiously, like he hadn’t expected that question. “Normally, yes. But when I’m on my TARDIS – that treacherous bitch,” he added, but it sounded almost fondly, “I’ve got more power.”

More power. Great. Exactly what he was short of, Rose thought bitterly. But her attention was on his comment about the ship. “T-trecherous?” she almost didn’t dare to ask. Afraid.

And his eyes sparkled at her knowingly. “Oh yes, I figured out that she helped you of course.” He raised his index finger. “No more new books for you either.”

She tried to read him, but couldn’t. There was amusement, but it was drenched in malice. She was terrified. Terrified he wouldn’t stop. Him attacking her again was undoubtedly a reaction to him realising out about the ship. Maybe it was silly, but it was like losing the only ally she had.

He stood up, his movements slow and deliberate as he approached the bed. Rose shrank back instinctively, her body recoiling from his proximity. “Leave me alone,” she spat sharply.

And he briefly stopped, frowning amused. “What did you expect, Rose? Seriously. You were trying to kill me. Did you expect for it to go unpunished?”

He continued walking closer and her heart beat up her throat. She remembered when she thought that being alone in this room for ages was torture. What would she give for him ignoring her again. What the fuck did she bring herself into?

He didn’t stop closing in and as she wanted to stand up on the other side of the bed, he was suddenly there, snatching one wrist across the bed. “You already proved how powerful you are, stop.”

“Oh, I don’t think I have,” he disagreed. “I think I have been too lax with you.”

Don’t.

“You tortured me, invaded my mind and my dreams!” she yelled in panic and anger. “Believe me, I get the picture.”

“Then I’ll make sure you really do. Again and again and again.”

“You can’t-” she began, her voice faltering, but the Master cut her off, his smile widening with that sick, knowing satisfaction.

“There’s nothing you can do to stop it.” His voice was a silken whisper, wrapping around her like a noose. “And as long as you doubt that, you don’t get it.”

Her body trembled with the weight of the truth. He was right. She couldn’t do anything about it. And the terrifying part was – everything he’s done in the past hours – he enjoyed it. He enjoyed controlling her, playing with her, bending her. He thrived on it.

He lingered there for a moment, before he slowly moved. Coming closer, his knees getting on the bed as he closed in. And she wanted to run, but didn’t see it helping her in that moment. She was frozen, as he was right in front of her and still towering over her.

“You're trembling,” the Master observed, his voice soft, but dripping with mockery. “So much bravado yesterday. What happened, Rose? Am I finally getting to you?”

Rose forced herself to meet his gaze, swallowing the panic that threatened to consume her. She hated that he was right. She tried to muster the shreds of defiance that were still somewhere within her. “Why don’t you get lost,” she whispered. “Get out of this room.”

He tilted his head, feigning confusion as he leaned even closer. “Out of this room? Rose, I'm already in your head. Where would I go?”

She jerked back, actually getting her hand out of his grip, off the bed, walking backwards. Her pulse racing as she tried to distance herself from him, but there was nowhere to go. She was trapped, in this room, in his clutches.

“You’re sick,” she whispered, her voice filled with disgust.

“I’m making a point.” He casually got off the bed as well, walking relentlessly closer.

“What point?” Desperate, she backed away as he stepped closer, only to hit the wall behind her. With nowhere left to go, she was trapped – hemmed in from behind by cold metal and from the front by his implacable approach.

“That I’m in charge,” he hissed, intruding her personal space again. “I own you. I can take everything from you.” Again, his hand found her head, fingers touching her ear, her hair and her cheek. “Everything I want.”

Rose’s heart pounded, her skin crawling under his touch. She wanted to lash out, to scream, but the weight of his control was stifling. “You can’t take everything,” she whispered. “There are parts you’ll never have, no matter what you do.”

His chuckle was as dark as his eyes, like there was no soul behind them. Like she was an ant he burned with a magnifying glass, enjoying her frantic escape from the fire, knowing she had no chance. “Oh, Rose. I already have ‘em all. I’ve already seen what there is to see.” His fingers moved on her skull and her breath hitched, afraid he’d invade again. But he only showed her that he could. “And I can take any bit … any time.”

She used her flaring anger to push through the fear that clung to her. Her voice, when it came again, was lower, more deliberate. “You might force yourself into my mind. You might twist my body and dreams. Maybe you’ll even f-force yourself on me …” She hated her quiver, but she also hated the flicker of the Master’s eyes – she saw in the way his smile sharpened at the edges, a glimpse of her worst fear reflected back at her. She pressed herself to continue, to not lose her determination, even if rooted in pain. “But you won’t own me. Not completely. You won’t own my choices. You’ll never have my consent.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and tense.

For a moment, the Master’s expression didn’t change. He stood there, the same cruel, smug smile playing on his lips. But something in his eyes shifted. No less calculating or dark. Slowly, he straightened, his head drove back just a little, though his gaze never wavered from hers. The smile remained, but something even more dangerous simmered beneath the surface now. “Consent?” The word slipped from his mouth like a taunt, his voice derisively soft. He tilted his head, watching her with that predatory gleam. “You think I care about your consent?”

She barely noticed a silent tear running down her left cheek, otherwise motionless. She felt disillusioned, but mostly numb. Emaciated. Like her body and mind was shutting down, but still trying to cling to anything resembling strength. “Without it, you’ll never really have me.”

He huffed. “You’re so … naive.” His grin was almost amazed, but his voice dripping with contempt. Her look fell down and she started shaking her head in disbelieve, when he continued, “Clinging to this illusion of control, when I could make you scream, cry and beg for anything.”

Whenever he pushed her so far that she was beyond her emotions, it always felt strangely liberating. When she looked at him again, she didn’t hide her tears, but she felt sober and calm. “You’re truly a lost cause, you know that? You’re alone in every sense of the word. That’s why you need to control people, because you can’t build real connections. Even though you want to,” she realised, no idea where her clarity stemmed from. “But you’re a deficient being. Failing, again and again.”

He frowned still mainly amused, wondering where her sudden attitude originated from, but there was also another question lingering that he held back. “Thanks for that psychological profile, Dr. Tyler. Speaking from experience with a certain different Doctor?”

“Failing to connect to the Doctor?” she almost grinned, darkly, but so sure of herself that her words would cut. “You would know all about that, wouldn’t ya’?”

At that, finally, the Master’s smile faltered for a split second, a flicker of something dangerous behind his eyes. His fingers flexed at his sides, as if he were holding himself back from something more violent. She didn’t care if he’d hurt her right now. The triumph she felt was reward enough. “Cat got your tongue?” she quipped a little too mocking, but she didn’t care.

His hand shooting forwards to grab her throat and press her against the wall was unexpected. It was sudden, the grip firm, but not squeezing. More like to hold her than to strangle her. To examine her. He observed her, like he was searching something in her face, her eyes or her soul. She hoped she would see her defiance again that she had temporarily lost.

His mouth opened and she saw him bite his tongue, like he was in thought, not quite finding what he was searching. “You are a strange creature, I give you that.”

Well, Rose had no idea what to say to that. “Is that why I am connected to your creepy machine? That why ‘m here?”

That brought a smile back to his face, even if it was a lot tamer now. He was still skimming her face, an unsettling softness in his eyes. “Don’t bother yourself with these questions. Just remember,” she felt him tighten his grip lightly, leaning in, “that if you try to kill me again – I’ll shred you in ways you can’t even imagine.”

With that, he let her go completely, even taking a step back. She sagged, her hand unwillingly wandered to her throat. But it was like his weight lifted from her, giving her enough space to finally breathe.

He had his arms behind his back and Rose wanted them to stay there. The small smile was still on his lips. “Come on. Say it,” he prompted almost cheerfully.

She needed a moment trying to understand what exactly he wanted to hear. “I won’t try to kill you again.”

His grin got darker. “Use my name.”

Her skin crawled, her whole body. Because his bloody name made her feel submissive, which was of course exactly what it was supposed to do. But she had to, she seriously needed a break. Her body ached, her head throbbed and her mind felt torn. So she did, but her voice trembled with hatred. “I won’t try to kill you again, Master.”

His grin widened, not swallowing in the darkness within it.

<>

Rose slept. She had no concept of time, but she was swimming in and out of it. She believed her dreams were churned up, not sure if the Master was slipping in sometimes. But she didn’t really remember them, like she was too exhausted for that.

Sometime at an unspecified ‘later’, she woke up and felt … somewhat fitter. Being crawled up in the corner of her bed.

She missed her books.

But everything was gone.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Thanks, anyway,” she murmured to the ship. “Thanks for trying.” Maybe, maybe, the ship would support her in any way in the future. Even if it wasn’t much. To be honest, Rose had no idea why it had done it in the first place.

She had expected to be here again for … hours? Days? But no, she heard the door knob move and finally saw the door open. With him leaning against the frame.

Honestly, she had no clue what to say, so she just stared at him for the longest time, not moving. “What is it?” There was no force behind her voice. Before, there had only been one thing that had made him seek her out. “Do I need to be in the torture chair?”

He tilted his head. And then simply nodded.

She sighed again, frustrated. Her hands finding her upper arms, holding them as she sat there on the bed, knees propped up. “And what if I refuse?” she asked quietly. It was an honest question.

“You know that’s not an option,” he answered calmly.

Her fingers pressed around her arms. “It’s obvious it isn’t just a torture device. What are you doing to me?” She didn’t expect him to answer, so his silence wasn’t surprising per se. She just found his whole composed demeanour unwonted. “Do you ask yourself why your ship wants to help me?”

He chuckled under his breath, still very contained. Looking briefly upwards. “I have some ideas,” he murmured, shifting slightly.

That made her curious. Sadly, he didn’t intend to elaborate. “Is it my charm?” she surprised herself with delicate banter.

His grin had an edge, like always, but it wasn’t malicious.

This whole talk had a vibe from a former, now empty, battlefield. They fought, and now there was nothing more to win for the time being.

With her next, resigned sigh, her hands drove through her hair, she sank her head along the way. Okay, there would be no way around it. And maybe it was more important finding out what the purpose of it all was. She still hated it.

Her hands fell, clapping her upper legs. “Okay, then,” she faked motivation. “Love getting my brain fried. Under one condition.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re in no condition to have conditions, Rose.”

“I think I do, since you obviously – like I knew – need me.”

“Don’t go there,” he almost pleaded, but it was a threat. “You know I can just force you.”

“Just,” she squeezed out, trying to get a hold of her tone, “give me some books again or something, so I don’t go mad.”

“Aw, you bored, Rose?” he taunted with condescending callousness.

“Oh my God, you’re such a jerk,” she groaned, she couldn’t help it, head sinking into her hands again. She hated that she now had real fear, every time she was obstreperous. It could all shift again within seconds to him torturing and attacking.

“Say please.”

She hadn’t expected his quiet words, even if challenging. She froze for a moment, then she searched for his eyes.

He glinted at her. “Beg me.”

Of course. She could do that, right? “Please, give me something to do here.” Her voice was honest and open. She didn’t want to play games. Not right now.

He was surprised by her tone, she could tell. Maybe even annoyed that she wasn’t livid underneath? But to his credit, he didn’t really let it show. “Maybe I will, then,” he answered almost neutral. Then stepping aside. “Now come.”

<>

Walking again into the control room was somehow strange. The yellow power cells were all repaired, no sign of what she had done to it. Come to think of it, she didn’t see any burns on the Master’s skin any more either.

“Are Time Lords healing faster?” she asked before thinking better of it, her natural curiosity just slipping through. She hadn’t even considered the context, which was less than optimal. Also, she felt like she should know from her time with the Doctor.

“Time Lords have better technology,” was his answer.

Made sense, too. They can make things heal faster. She was just glad that he didn’t commented on his burns. She watched the chair coming closer and beside that, the big machine apparently linked to her. Her heartbeat wasn’t relaxed, but it wasn’t running wild either.

When she walked towards the chair, however, she tensed up again. She twirled around, a little irritated he was so close. “No shackles,” she told him.

He blinked. “What?”

“Don’t strap me to that chair. It’s obvious I can’t flee so I won’t.”

He moaned, rolling his head on his neck, before focusing on her again. “You’re getting annoying.”

“Well, ‘cuse me, I didn’t know I asked to be your hostage.”

He winced with a mix of curiosity and taunt. “You’re treading on thin ice, you know that?”

“Yeah, so whatcha gonna do?” she asked calmer, knowing this lay in his power only. “Let me walk or let me break through?”

Again, it seemed like he studied her. Like he had to consider his steps with her. She partly wondered why. Probably because she didn’t even know what he needed her for, was far from having the whole picture. After a moment, he actually nodded. “All right, why not,” he hissed a little, contracting his nose. He turned around and Rose let out a tense breath. Of course, seeing him come back with his little pain device didn’t lighten her up. He tilted his head, eyes sparkling. “You still better sit down.” He rose his hands in a mock gesture of apology. “Not that you crash to the ground. Just looking out for your safety.”

Rose shook her head, dumbfounded and disgusted. “I don’t even know how to comment that.” She simply turned around to sit down. Expecting the shackles to surround her limbs, but they didn’t. She pulled her hair to the side and he already was leaning in close. “C-an you make it hurt less?” she asked before considering her words. Sounding small and vulnerable. Pleading him. And she didn’t expect him to freeze or the flicker in his face, almost … tentative.

His following smile wasn’t as sharp as she came to expect from him. “Would you believe me if I said I already tried?”

Her mind was blank for a second. Did she believe him? Probably not. And yet … maybe?

He drove the device closer. “Hold on tight.”

The pain was familiar and ugly. And everywhere. Her vision went white and she only heard her own scream as the pain finally vanished. She dangled on the chair as she got herself together again. Noticing him walking from the console to the machine mirroring her heartbeat. She never registered the panel there. Not really, because she never saw him working there.

But he seemed dissatisfied. At first his face hardened, his fist twitched, and finally he hit the machine once, groaning in frustration. He ruffled his hair before he twirled around. “Okay, change of plans.” He strode towards her. “Get up.”

She blinked at him. “Not sure if I feel my legs yet.”

“Let’s see,” he quipped, grabbing her arms to pull her up.

“Hey!” she called out surprised and had to steady herself on him.

He let go, at first having his arms in place to catch her, but she didn’t need it. “All good. So c’mon.”

He turned around and she was confused and still a little groggy. “Where to?”

“Oh, you’re going to love it,” he chuckled and turned around. “We’re going on a trip.”

Chapter Text

The moment the door of his TARDIS opened, Rose felt a major surreality hit her. The outside wind blew inside, it flew through her hair and made her eyes squint. “You’re serious,” came out of her mouth.

The Master looked at her. “Dead.”

He didn’t tell her what they were doing or why she should come with him. But stepping outside and breathing fresh air felt so good. The planet resembled a desert, just not quite as harsh. Still very sandy and warm. They landed in the middle of a busy market and for a moment, Rose felt like back then. When she travelled with the Doctor.

She was so absorbed in the sight before her, her thoughts, her feelings. She was at a loss for a moment.

Until a hand waved in front of her eyes. “Still there?” the Master asked. “Or have I broken you?”

She blinked. “Almost. So, we’re not here for fun, are we?”

“Am I not all about fun?” he winked.

She huffed. “Really don’t know what screwed up activities count for entertainment in your book. And, honestly, I don’t want to know.”

“You already got a taste of it,” he drawled while turning around, walking forwards.

Her skin bristled, because he was of course right. She knew now how him snapping looked like. Pushing these thoughts aside, she just followed him. “Where are we going?”

“Through a market,” he commented patronisingly, not looking at her. “Really, Rose, have I damaged your brain after all?”

Fury burned through her veins, but she tamped it down. To be honest, what she had perceived as muscle ache in her mind – it wasn’t gone. She still felt it, somehow pressing and … displaced. Thudding. And sometimes it was like it hampered her thinking, even though it was more like a feeling than an actual impediment. However, she wasn’t sure if she should address it directly. She didn’t want to be vulnerable around him and she still had hope that the feeling would vanish at some point. Still, maybe she could get some information about it. “You tell me,” she said therefore. “You’re the expert on telepathy. You certainly know about the damage it can cause.”

“Negligible.”

“Liar,” flew out of her mind, frustrated.

“Here,” he suddenly said, grabbing her elbow and leading her to a booth. “Can I have a look at that?” he asked for … something. A metal or some device? The trader gave it to him and he pulled out his screwdriver, pointing it at that thing and then at her. Apparently, it was disappointing. “No, thanks,” he gave it back and continued walking.

“So important, am I?” she half teased.

“You’re convenient,” he disagreed, not looking at her.

“And again – you’re really not that good of a liar, are you?” she stated surprised.

He huffed, even a small grin on his lips. “Normally, I am.”

“So why am I so important?” she probed, but apparently she was getting on his nerves.

He turned around, driving closer and raising his index finger. “Hush now. Just be silent and look pretty, now would you?”

Arsehole.

Her hands fisted and she tried to picture how her punching him would feel like. He already was on his way again and she didn’t catch on. In fact, she was like stone for a moment. The memories of being on a trip with the Doctor echoed in the back of her mind and the thought of going back to the Master on his ship was suffocating. She was out now. Was this a way out?

Part of her knew it wouldn’t be. But the other part didn’t care. She wanted to go, to breathe, she wanted to do something. She wanted to be away.

So she started walking. Into another direction than him. At first slow, then faster and faster. Until she ran. And it felt so liberating, being able to run, being able to pretend for a second. Until a naive part of her hoped that maybe she could run. Maybe the invisible chain to him wasn’t active right now.

But as she reached the periphery of the crowd, she felt it. An overwhelming force pulling her back. It was as though mental chains were dragging her down. She stumbled, her breath got heavier as the pull grew stronger. Her vision swayed, and she felt her strength draining rapidly. She still fought to move forwards, but the faces of the waning crowd were blurring as she struggled to maintain her balance.

As she fell, the world around her seemed to twist and darken, telling her unambiguously that she wasn’t allowed to move farther than that. She knew that feeling from when he had snatched her from the Doctor.

She didn’t know how much time had passed, but the Master’s voice slithered through the haze of her semi-conscious state, mockingly tender. “You should know by now, Rose, that fleeing is futile.” She turned her head slowly, her vision clearing just enough to see the Master come closer and crouch down to her. And she felt his hand stroking a strand from her face. “I’ll always get you, no matter how far you try to run.”

She expected her head to clear again now that he was there, but maybe she overstrained this constricting mechanism. She only felt his arms slip under her body, one under her shoulders, the other under her knees. Until he lifted her up. Her head bumped into his shoulder and his scent clouded her senses, before they shut down.

<>

Rose lay somewhere, when her consciousness slowly seeped back. And it wasn’t uncomfortable. Was it a bed?

When she opened her eyes and blurry contours came back into shape, she recognised shelves and tables piled up with various equipment. She saw something like this before. Like the infirmary room that she once fled into and fell unconscious?

Her hand flew beside her head as she rolled to her side, and she felt a mattress and a pillow. She was in the ship’s infirmary, wasn’t she?

And then, her look fell onto him, and she tensed. He sat in a chair, legs crossed, one hand in front of his mouth, like he was thinking. Eyes on her. “I pondered how to punish you,” he said calmly. “Something sustainable. But let me tell you, you’re not an easy person to punish. I once said that I thought you didn’t care anymore and maybe that’s true, isn’t it? Or are you just stupid?”

She blinked at him as she lay there on her side, not moving otherwise. “Probably the latter.”

His chuckle burst out as if he hadn’t expected that answer. His hand dropped. The spark in his eyes still cold. “I have ways to wear you down and I have no inhibitions to use them. You know that. You experienced them. So why continue your little rebellious act?”

Because it’s no act? “I guess s’my nature,” she said quietly. She felt her head throb and she felt exhausted. “And I guess it was worth it. Feeling free for a second, even though I knew it wouldn’t last.”

“You don’t know if it was worth it,” he countered and his eyes were calculating and sparkled with dark promises. “You don’t know what I’m going to do to you.”

“Then tell me.” She was too tired to care, honestly. She was afraid. Deeply. But she couldn’t change it either way, so what was the point?

His head tilted, sombre curiosity in them. He moved his legs on the ground, so the chair he sat on, rolled forwards to her bed. She inhaled sharply, but didn’t move. He leaned forward, his face coming close to hers. “Maybe I just take a look inside your head, finding your deepest fears of what I could do to you. You know,” he shrugged, “as inspiration.”

She felt her breath getting heavier as she tried to contain her elevating tension. And tried to hold his eye contact, facing him despite her obvious fears.

His head moved slightly to the side, his look almost softening, but she knew that to be mocking. “I think your fantasies are even crueller than what I have in mind. Don’t you think?”

She couldn’t have answered, because something happened to the ship so it rattled. She was thrown back and so was he, gripping the edges of the mattress to hold himself. He looked up alarmed, then stood up so sudden, the chair flew back. A quiet Shit left his mouth.

Then he turned back, grabbing her upper arm to pull her up. “Come on,” he commanded and she was dragged out of the room, across the hall and into the control room. The ship shook again on the way, like it was being attacked. He shoved her towards the machine with the lights, the one that was connected to her. “Stay there!” he ordered and ran to the control panels.

“What’s going on?” she called, but didn’t expect an answer.

He was busy and focused, his fingers flying over the panel. As the ship jolted again, he growled, hands driving though his hair, staying there on his head. And there was something else in his eyes, something she never expected to see there.

Fear.

Real fear. Terror, even.

Then, he put himself into motion again, pressing buttons and pulling levers, then twirling around, firing with his screwdriver against the machine beside her, so she jerked. It wasn’t his laser, but the machine groaned and there were flying sparks from it.

And just like that – the alleged attacks – stopped. And it became very quiet.

He sighed, leaning his hands on the console in front of him, clutching its edges. Rose saw his hands being almost white from the pressure, she saw his look forwards. Angry. And, unmistakably, anxious.

She was shocked because of that. What the hell was going on here? “What was that?” asked her small voice in the quiet room.

“Go to your room,” he commanded gravely.

Rose felt like she was thrown in the dark, expecting to find the way, tapping around like a blind person. “But-” she wanted to argue, but he sprung around, grasping her shoulders roughly.

“Get out,” he spat, “or I’m gonna get mean.”

His eyes were murderous and she had no doubt whatsoever that he would follow through on his threat. Like she said, she knew he could snap. And he had been angry with her to begin with. So she slipped out of his grip and vanished out of the room.

<>

Rose went to her room, just falling into the cushions. Happy that he would leave her alone for now, but her head full of unanswered questions. Funnily enough, she saw a book on her night stand, and that made her fall asleep with a smile on her face.

She didn’t know if he was responsible for that book or his ship or if he allowed his ship to give her some conveniences. Another part was that she had access to more rooms. Well, specifically one room. The kitchen. At first, she thought it was a mistake. But when she wandered again at some point, the kitchen was still there.

She didn’t understand it. Because she obviously had disobeyed him again and he had been livid about it. But maybe he had other problems right now and was back on ignoring her?

Rose touched the wall of the ship, as if she could understand it then. “Are you helping again?” she asked and she realised her fears. “Can this have consequences for me again?” She didn’t know if it was her imagination, but the hum of his TARDIS felt soothing to her.

Maybe it was a deal between him and his ship. That assumption came, because he didn’t leave her as alone as she first thought.

She was pretty sure he continued visiting her dreams.

At first, it was like he was looming in the background and she thought it were just nightmares. Sometimes, however, she felt him twist them. So that she cried for help, but no one came. Not her family. And not the Doctor. Sometimes, when she dreamt of the Doctor and it felt good and wholesome when he hugged her – it sometimes felt like he infiltrated that hug. She was always glad when she pulled herself out of these ones. Other times, they were just straight up nightmares.

It started to affect her sleep. She slept less.

She slept barely.

Only when she dozed off against her better judgement, but it seemed like he was always waiting and torturing.

She had to give him that, while not completely new, he always shook up his torture methods enough, so they didn’t get boring. Adding something here and there, meanwhile slipping her some freedoms like with the books or more rooms to wander – it was creative enough. Credit where credit was due.

She laughed at the thought, noticing her hysterical side getting more prominent again.

That coward, not showing up, only slipping into her mind when she was most vulnerable. She hated his fucking guts. At one point, sitting in her bed, fingers in her hair, something in her snapped.

She jumped off the bed and headed determinedly to the kitchen, straight up opening the cutlery drawer. Seeing the knifes there. They were only butter knives, but better than nothing, right?

She didn’t care if she failed like last time, she didn’t care about the consequences, she had no capacities for it. So she took the knife and went to the door.

Only that the moment she stepped through, she lost the knife out of her hand and it clinked to the ground. Rose looked at it for a minute, dumbfounded.

Apparently, she couldn’t take it out of the room. It was like a barrier.

She didn’t even know if she was mad about it. It probably would have just blown up in her face again. She leaned against the door frame, slowly sliding down until she sat on the ground. Her elbows propped on her upright knees, and her forehead leaned against her folded hands.

She sat there for quite a while.

<>

She tried to be grateful for the things she had while never forgetting that all of it was gruesome. But she tried to work with what she got. For example, she really had the feeling that the ship meant her no harm. She even got it to play some games with her on a computer or to still offer her books of a specific theme she was interested in. For example, she tried to get information about TARDISes. These were fascinating ships, really.

Apart from that, she still had serious sleep deprivation. She lived on caffeine at this point. Like right now, she poured herself a cup of black tea, when she heard his – unexpected – voice.

“There she is,” he drawled, as if he didn’t always know where she was. “Enjoying your new liberties?”

She was in no mood. Expressionless, she turned around, the cup in her hand. She briefly thought about the knives in the drawer, but discarded this idea for now. “They came with a price.”

He tilted his head. “Amenities mostly do.”

“I didn’t realise my new flat came with you being rent-free in my head.”

He chuckled lowly, but she didn’t even had the strength to be really mad at him. “Speaking of,” he strode closer. “There’s less time for me to actually be in your head.” He stopped, when he was in front of her, his look like always pervasive, when he watched her, like he took apart her armour with his eyes. “Decided to skip sleeping altogether?”

She almost grinned at his searching look, even pushing her head a bit forwards. “Careful,” she whispered. “One could mistake your question for concern. If you need me, you maybe shouldn’t torture me constantly.” The last words were spat, showing her anger at last.

The grin played around his mouth, but didn’t really come out. “That’s what you get for kicking out against me.”

“If it were so simple,” she hissed. “You enjoy this on a perverse level, you creep. Grovelling into my dreams, watching.”

At first, she saw his little flinch, as if he was trying to find out something about her. Being surprised. It was fleeting, but it was not the first time she caught him doing that. But he covered it up by stepping into her personal space. “Oh, I like the parts where I do more than watching,” he murmured provocatively, being way too close.

And she trembled with disgust. “You’re sick.” Which only seemed to amuse him. And amidst her foggy mind, clouded by too little sleep and the strange mind muscle ache, she noticed his distraction tactics to gloss over what she had caught wind of. But what was it? What surprised him again and again?

“Maybe I am,” he said. “But to watch you, you have to sleep.”

“I’d rather go insane.”

“You will, if you continue this way.”

She pushed herself past him to leave the room. “And again – if you need me, you should rethink your methods.”

“Fine, have it your way,” he called after her, but didn’t follow her.

<>

Rose had tried to read, but she was staring blankly at the page. She was just too damn tired.

He had left her alone these last days or whatever, but when she now looked down at the page, the text had changed into ‘Come to the control room.’

He needed her for that fucking machine, another dose of pain awaiting her. She considered not going. She did that once, and sometimes it was fun to defy him, but she knew it wouldn’t change the outcome. And she had to be afraid to lose her limited privileges again. So she sighed deeply, shut the book close and went to the control room.

When the doors opened, he was already there. “There she comes,” he praised, only to properly look at her again. “You’re looking a bit worse for wear, Rose. Still having trouble sleeping?” he taunted.

She didn’t answer, her eyes fixed on some distant point and she slid closer, hoping he’d lose interest if she didn’t engage. But she could feel his gaze on her, heavy and sharp, dissecting her every movement. But no such luck. “Is it the nightmares?” his voice dropped to a mockingly soft tone. “Or is it me?”

She shivered at his audacity. “Just shock me and get this over with.”

If he wanted to answer, he didn’t have the chance. Because the ship rattled again, just as it did the last time. Rose, barely able to stand upright in the first place, crashed to the ground.

“Fucking hell,” he cursed. “Okay, we need to be fast.”

Fast? So injecting her with that device prevented them from being attacked? If it even was an attack. Rose’s head turned to the machine, everything in a haze. Her heartbeat unexpectedly calm, as she noticed when she looked at the machine.

The machine was the key somehow, wasn’t it? But it was also her?

She didn’t even notice that she moved. It was like the light and the hum of this machine called her, like she belonged there anyway. It was only natural.

It had a panel, she noticed before. But there was also a bright surface. Whispering to her. And she didn’t know if she was actually sensing something or just delirious, but she stretched out her hand, touching the flat area.

She felt it click.

Somehow.

And even more important – the attacks immediately stopped.

She remained a few seconds in utter silence. Only then turning around. Watching the Time Lord watching her. Motionless. Frowning.

Then she collapsed.

Her head throbbed and she clutched it in agony. Oh God, could somebody knock her out already? No consciousness, no dreams, just blissful nothingness, please!

He stepped closer, she felt him coming down to her. “You’re in pain.”

She laughed, she couldn’t help it. “Bonus for you, innit?” As the pain seemed to dull a little, she raised her head. To be honest, it was still too much. The spike of pain from just now, but even before that. Now, being here on the floor, Rose felt the weight of her sleeplessness pulling her under. Her limbs were heavy, her vision blurred at the edges, and a dull ache pulsed behind her eyes. And she tried desperately to hold herself together.

“You’re unravelling,” he stated as briefly as soberly.

“I’m fine,” she snapped. It was obviously a lie, and they both knew it. “Well, not fine, but what choice do I have? Do you even know what I did just now? But even if, you won’t tell me, of course. And you won’t let me sleep either.”

“Not sleeping is your choice.”

“It’s not!” she abruptly screamed. And her hands came up, fists pounding at him, even though there was no force behind it. “It’s not, it’s not, it’s not!”

He caught her hands, a little later than she would have suspected, pulling them down between them, not letting them go. Her ragged breath shuddering. “I can alleviate your pain,” he stated, voice still calm. “I can soothe the dull ache you’re feeling.”

“Then do it,” she murmured, just wanting this feeling to be over.

He grinned … sympathetic. A look she didn’t know him wearing. “Maybe I should warn you, then. It requires me being in your head.”

Her eyes grew and she ripped out of his grip, shifting back, only to recognise she was already leaning against the machine. “Fuck off.”

“You can’t keep this up, you know,” he murmured. “You’re human. You do need sleep.”

“Do you hear yourself, you arsehole?! You getting in my head is why I can’t sleep in the first place! Also, you never asked before!”

“I’m asking now.” His voice and eyes were clear.

“Why?” she whimpered and her head sank into her hands. “Why, why, why, why …” She would be losing her mind. She suspected from the beginning, but she never felt it like this before. When she felt his hands on hers, she pushed them back. “Don’t touch me.”

He let his hands sink again, his unwavering look unnerving. “I can help you.”

“I don’t want your help,” she hissed.

“No,” he agreed softly. “But you need it.”

Her lips began to quiver and she sensed she would either laugh or cry, glad she was able to go with the first one. It wasn’t the kind of laugh that came from something funny, but one born out of exhaustion, frustration, and the sheer absurdity of the situation. Her body trembled slightly as the laughter died in her throat, and she looked up at the Master with a bitter, cynical smile. “You enjoy this, don’t you? Some deranged part of you gets off on this.”

He tilted his head, a familiar spark came back into his eyes, however small. “Does it matter?” She huffed, rolling her eyes. “I’m obviously also offering this for my sake. You’re not … unessential for what I need. So trust that I need you intact.”

Her lids shut close as she continued to snicker. At least, he was honest.

“You need to sleep, Rose. And I’m the only one who can help you with that right now.”

She shook her head, more out of desperation than any other reason. She was sure she should ask for more explanation, right? But her head was a mess, she didn’t know anymore what of it was sleep depravation and what something else. It all blurred together and part of her just wanted it to stop. “I hate you,” she sighed under her breath. “I hope you know that.”

His smile softened again and it creeped her out. “I know.”

Rose exhaled shakily, pressing a hand to her forehead, her body threatening to collapse under the weight of her exhaustion. She tried to make sense of the paradox in her fuzzy brain. That him going in her head should be the solution to a problem that originated from him going in her head in the first place. So if she let him – and she still didn’t understand him asking – how could she prevent it from happening again? “You want to help to keep me functional?” Rose said, her voice tight with a mix of defiance and weariness. “Fine. Then I have conditions.”

He looked at her with a crooked grin, like he couldn’t quite believe she had demands again. “Conditions?”

“Yeah,” Rose muttered, swallowing as she forced herself to hold her head upright. “If you want inside my head again to fix this …” She gestured vaguely toward her pounding skull, her voice hardening. “Then you stop invading my dreams. No more messing with my mind when I’m asleep. No more trying to twist my nightmares or make them worse. You stay out.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, his expression unreadable as he considered her words. There was a tension between them, as if the very air in the room was holding its breath, waiting for his response. “And why,” he asked slowly, his voice low and measured, “would I agree to that?”

Rose’s chest tightened, but she kept her gaze locked on his, refusing to back down. “I know you get off on control,” she said, her voice laced with bitterness. “You enjoy having power over me, over everyone. But if you really want me to last, to keep going … then give me this. Let me have something that’s mine.”

For a long moment, the Master said nothing, his eyes boring into hers with an intensity that made her want to recoil. But she held her ground, her heart pounding in her chest. She hated how vulnerable she felt, hated that she even had to ask for something as simple as peace in her own mind. But she had no choice. She didn’t only need rest now, she needed it also in the future and when he was offering, she needed to use that.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the Master’s smile returned, slow and calculating. “Alright,” he said softly, his voice a low purr. “I’ll stay out of your dreams, if that’s what you want.”

Rose’s breath caught, her heart hammering in her chest as she watched him, unsure whether to believe him or not. Because she already saw it in his eyes.

“But,” he continued as expected and she hated how her heart sank. He leaned in, coming so close, she felt his breath on her mouth. “You have to let me in when you’re awake. No resistance.”

She shook her head vehemently. “I won’t do that, I have to be able to say no.”

He rolled his eyes, but still grinned. “I won’t ask permanently, if that feels better for you.”

“What does that mean?” she prompted, fighting against her brain wanting to shut down. “Be specific.”

“Fine, let’s say … no more than twice a week.”

“No more than once a week,” she insisted, no idea anymore if she was negotiating well.

“Fine.”

Maybe she could have gotten more out of it. Assuming he would keep his word. But it was better than nothing. And part of her already craved the imagination of calmness and sleep. But she hesitated for a moment, her breath shaky as her mind raced. Was this worth it? Could she really give him that kind of control over her mind, knowing what he was capable of?

But she was in too deep now.

With a heavy, shuddering breath, Rose nodded, her voice barely a whisper. “Fine. Just … help me.”

The Master’s smile widened, not as much as she would have expected but still satisfied. “Good girl,” he murmured.

Rose’s body tensed, but she didn’t pull away. She couldn’t. Not now.

He moved closer to her, his presence commanding and intimate. The atmosphere in the room seemed to shift, becoming charged with an almost palpable tension. Rose closed her eyes, wanting to shut all that out, as the Master’s hand hovered near her temple, his touch lastly light but precise.

The instant his fingers made contact, a strange sensation coursed through her. It wasn’t like the mental knives she had felt before when he had first invaded. It was as if an electric current had surged between them, zipping their minds together in a way that made her gasp. The pain in her head shifted and was complemented by a curious, tingling warmth. And it was so unexpected, she clenched. He was already too deep, too close.

“Relax, Rose,” his voice whispered against her lips, “Let me in.”

She felt her body quiver, not understanding what was happening. The rush she suddenly felt was so overwhelmingly good, she was afraid of it. It might not hurt, but she felt helpless all the same.

The shift of his hand to back of her neck, pulling her yet closer, drew her attention to that sensation. Like his fingers were caressing and trapping her at the same time. She inwardly squirmed. She tried to relax, let it happen. Let the boundaries of her own thoughts dissolve as the Master’s presence enveloped her consciousness. She inhaled sharply as another kind of tension whirred through her, suddenly grasping his arms.

This felt different from before. The intrusion was the same, the outcome profoundly different. His touch was invasive but strangely comforting, creating a strange blend of relief and ardency.

Her eyes cast open at that unexpected feeling, in a desperate attempt to search for answers. What is happening here? His lids opened as well. And she wished they weren’t quite so close. Not when her breath came so deep that she had to open her mouth to get air, blowing against his lips, and her need for closeness and connection was so prominent.

She noticed him swallowing. “Close your eyes, Rose,” he murmured. “It’s all good. I promise.”

His voice infiltrated her in a way it shouldn’t. Spreading through her in a manner that was both scary and – for a lack of a better word – sensual. But she did what she was told, all too happy to shut his image out again. It wasn’t right feeling anything other than disgust for him. But she could feel his mind brushing against hers, sorting out, exploring and soothing in ways she hadn’t anticipated. The tension that was building was compelling and she wished it wasn’t. She gave in to it anyway. She was just too damn tired.

Images flickered in her mind – not all of them coherent. Some seemed familiar, like scenes from her past. Some had to be his. But she couldn’t really process them. His thoughts intertwined with hers, guiding her away from the pain and into a realm of shared freedom.

And with that, in the next moment – her tension lifted in a kind of release that was so deep, it splayed through her whole body. Everything in her slackened, her contracted muscles loosened. The pain in her head receded, replaced by an almost cosy sensation. Her dull senses finally clearing. Her tingling body both welcome and concerning. Because – the relief was so profound. Did it only feel good, because the pain was finally gone or … something more? Something she really didn’t want to feel right now.

She pushed all these inappropriate thoughts far, far away.

She was enveloped in a cocoon of shared thoughts and feelings, the Master’s presence under her skin still surprisingly soothing, even though she couldn’t pinpoint his specific thoughts or anything. She felt like she was in a dangerous, alluring trap, one she knew she should resist, but the sensation was too intoxicating to ignore. And she hated feeling it slide away, when he finally withdrew.

Rose’s eyes fluttered open, and she found herself sitting on the bed in her room, the TARDIS obviously having displaced them somehow. Her head still tingling with the after effects of this experience, even after his hands separated from her skin. The pain had significantly diminished, but the lingering sensation of their connection left her feeling oddly vulnerable.

He was still close and she dwelled there, her eyes searching, questioning, but her mind already slipping away. “What was that?” she tried to understand, but her voice was small.

“Help. Now go to sleep.”

“Hm-hm,” she agreed disorientated, but still managed to somehow land in her bed, instantly falling into a peaceful bliss.

Chapter Text

Rose woke up slowly, the warmth of sleep still clinging to her body in a cosy shroud. For a moment, she didn’t move, didn’t open her eyes. She just lay there, her mind suspended in the soft haze of half-consciousness, a peaceful lull that she hadn’t felt in … well, forever.

It was as if her entire body had been wrapped in cotton, every muscle loose and relaxed. The constant tension that had gripped her shoulders, neck, and back was gone. Also the dull pain clouding her mind and senses. The muscle ache. She stretched slightly, feeling the gentle pull of her limbs and enjoying the absence of that familiar, gnawing ache.

And then it hit her.

She’d slept. Not just slept, but actually slept. Deeply. Restfully. The kind of sleep she’d thought was impossible under his relentless presence.

Her eyes fluttered open, the light and hum of the TARDIS surrounding her, and for a moment, she just stared into the room. A wave of disbelief washed over her. No nightmares, not him lingering in there. He apparently had kept his word. For now.

She sat up slowly, running a hand through her hair, still tangled from a full night’s sleep. Her mind was clear, a sharp contrast to the fog of exhaustion she’d been battling for days. And her headache? Gone. Completely.

Which begged the question – what did he actually do to her?

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides as she tried to shake off the feeling of shame that suddenly swelled. Until it overran her completely, almost suppressing the levity from before. Yesterday, she pushed all the weirdness away, but now she couldn’t ignore it anymore. It wasn’t just the physical relief, though that had been undeniable. It was the warmth that had crept into her consciousness, the strange, alien sense of comfort that had filled her. For a fleeting moment, she had felt ... bloody safe.

She let out a bitter breath, disgusted with herself. Maybe she should never have let him do this, screw the consequences. How could she have let herself feel that way? After everything he had done, everything he continued to do – manipulating her, forcing her into this deal so he could still access her mind.

And yet, when he had touched her mind, it had felt different from before. And not the obvious, good feeling, but something else. It had felt real. Whatever that meant.

And the memory of it lingered, like the echo of a melody she couldn’t quite forget.

Everything about this was so wrong.

He could offer her relief – or torment – with just a flicker of his mind. He could make her feel whatever he wanted her to feel, and she would be powerless to stop him. Not that she hadn’t known that – but she felt so vulnerable with this right now.

She decided to leave her room and silently pleaded the ship to show her the way to the control room. She had never asked for that door but she felt the TARDIS would give it to her if she really wanted to. Only she now showed her the door to the kitchen.

Rose sighed, a little disappointed. She obviously wanted to confront herself with him. She had so many questions, but they only seemed to multiply since she came aboard.

When she entered the kitchen, however, the Master was there. Making himself a cup of tea.

She silently thanked the ship, which had obviously listened to her. But she also was a bit dumbstruck. Watching him making something … so mundane was … strange to say the least. It was completely out of place. He was an evil mastermind, he wasn’t allowed to seem normal!

“Slept well, I assume?” he asked without looking back, stirring his tea.

She had absently sunken down on a chair, simply staring at him.

He added some sugar, but she didn’t answer, the question already forgotten in her stream of thoughts. When he turned around, he arched a brow. “What’s the hitch?”

“What did you do to me last night?”

He tilted his head. “Helping you sleep.”

“What exactly does that mean?”

He suppressed a grin, obviously considering how to answer her question, what to reveal. He focused on his tea again, using the spoon to stir it. Almost like he was deflecting. “Any specific questions?”

“Well, let’s start with this: When you invaded my mind before, you left this dull ache you obviously knew about. Yesterday, you also were in my mind, and now it’s gone. Why?”

He still moved his spoon, a little slower, watching it. “Because driving in one’s mind can cause … a disruption in your mental pathways. Which can cause this ache you were feeling.”

“Uh-huh,” Rose let out, knowingly and deliberately judgmental. This had obviously been the case, because he had forced his way in before.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, I sorted it out,” he dismissed her anger.

“Yeah, you’re also the one who caused the damage in the first place,” she countered sharply.

“There’s no damage. It was just shaken up.”

She tried not to explode on him. Because she still wanted to know more. “Is that the only reason I instantly fell asleep?”

Again, he hesitated and she hated that. His hesitation was not out of a bad conscious, it was more calculating. But apparently, he decided to let her in on it. “Not all of your nightmares were my doing. Some of your nightmares and anxieties are all yours. So I influenced some of your sleep centres to facilitate your sleep.”

She honestly had no idea how she should stay so calm, even though he could hear the anger in her voice. “So you messed with my brain again.”

“Don’t be so shirty, it’s no different from what a sleeping pill would do.”

“You have no concept of consent at all, do you?”

He was back on stirring his tea, his voice reserved. “I told you I don’t care about that.”

“Then why ask yesterday?”

He sighed annoyed, his shoulders sagged. “Why not?”

“Is that it? Keep me off balance? Is that why you made it feel good, too?”

His grin turned dark. “Ooh, did it feel good for you?” he mocked.

“Sod off, you know exactly it did. And while I believe it’s just another way to manipulate me, I …” she flinched, trying to remember, “I also felt it being,” she didn’t know how to call it, “natural?”

Again, his eyes narrowed and she came to know his look, when he was trying to hide his confusion.

“That does surprise you, doesn’t it?” she realised, not for the first time. “That I pick up on things?”

He snorted. “You pick up on nothing. This is all wishful thinking to make your time here bearable.”

“Nothing here can make my time bearable,” she shot back. “But I am right about lot of things. That you need me. That you are afraid, and don’t even try to deny it. And, oh yeah, let’s talk about what I did with that machine yesterday. I saved us, didn’t I?”

“Saved us? You’re delirious, little girl.”

“Oh, I’m not,” she felt a confidence in her chest. “And we better talk shop if you want to survive. And nothing less is at stake here, when you are this scared. So tell me again that I’m wrong.”

She didn’t know how to interpret his silence. When he moved, he put his mug slowly on the counter and strode forwards. Rose fought the urge to lean back, a reaction to his proximity. But thankfully, he didn’t came as close as he usually did. He still leaned a little forwards, his look impenetrable, when he hissed, “You’re wrong.”

With that, he left the room.

<>

He didn’t leave her alone as long as she would have hoped. She had maybe a day for herself. The next night, she slept again and she didn’t have the impression that he invaded. She still didn’t trust him, but she was glad he may be true to his word. But only because he wanted something in return, of course. Rose already dreaded that he would claim his ‘right’ to get in her mind again one day. Probably sooner than later. If it would hurt her again, or – maybe worse – he would make it feel good.

Apart from that, she didn’t sleep as good as the night before. It wasn’t a night full of calmness and bliss, it was a bit tense. Which made sense, of course, she was in a messed-up situation. But part of her wished she’d sleep better. But that would require his ‘sleeping pill’, wouldn’t it? And she really didn’t want that if she could help it.

When she woke up, Rose toddled around and tried to convince the ship to maybe show her yet other rooms, but she had no luck. She pretended to hear regret out of the TARDIS’s hum.

Maybe she was going insane.

She heard footsteps. His footsteps.

Annoyed, she turned on her heels, hands in her pockets.

He flinched in humour. “So gloomy, you don’t even know what I want.”

Was he serious? “Never something good, that’s for sure.”

His eyes flashed. “You certain?”

She ignored it. “What do you want?”

He turned around. “Come with me.”

She sighed quietly, but followed him. They were headed into the control room and he walked straight to the panels. “Go sit,” he demanded casually.

She hesitated, but decided to walk to the humming machine instead. She stepped in front of it, lightening lightly increasing.

Rose felt something from this thing. Like it was familiar. Like there was something about it. It was so strange and maddening. And the thing was, it didn’t feel bad. It felt very useful.

“I said, sit,” she heard his tone behind her, sharp and impatient around the edges.

“I’m connected to this,” she stated thoughtfully, ignoring him again. “If this machine needs me … and you need me to be shocked or injected with your device – is the purpose of your device then trying to connect me with that machine?!”

There was a pause, before he answered. “Now you’re stretching.”

Even if. “Is someone after you?”

“Always,” she heard his smirk.

That smelled like deflection. “These were attacks,” she concluded, more for herself. “And I did protect us. You are a liar.” Not that this was any news. “A petty liar.”

“You go to that sodding chair now.” His anger was showing.

She surprised herself with her casual, “No.”

Silence.

Then she heard his slow steps, wandering around her so he could watch her, standing in front of her. He wasn’t amused, his hinted grin wasn’t playful or humorous at all. “Come again?” slipped out of his mouth. “Pet?”

Rose tried to stay steady. “Go on. Shock me,” she challenged him. “Torture me into unconsciousness. See if I can operate your creepy machine there when I’m knocked out. Because I felt it being connected to me. And I believe I have to be awake and willing.”

He drove close, his open-mouthed grin was showing his teeth, but it was pinched, all his rage therein. She suppressed her flinch. “Do you think I won’t do it?” he hissed.

“It doesn’t matter to me,” she whispered back. “I don’t like being tortured, but if you, as a result, don’t get what you want, that’s fine by me.”

“You really think I can’t use your unconscious body however I see fit?”

Goosebumps spread down her spine. She hated his words that were like always used precisely to convulse her, making her thoughts wander to revolting scenarios. It was an intimidation tactic, obviously. Question was if it was empty or not. And she seriously didn’t know. But she didn’t see how she had another choice here. She mustered all her bravado and venom. “Then why don’t you just do it?”

The next seconds stretched like minutes. She didn’t know if she was smart or if she committed the biggest mistake of her life. Didn’t know if he would make her regret it thoroughly, splitting her open in every way there was. Because he was capable, and yeah, also willing to do that. She had no illusion of him not being a monster. But she had to take the chances she got, however slim, otherwise she might as well give up.

After what felt like an eternity, his spiteful grin grew and his hand snapped up towards her head, and she couldn’t help it, she flinched, already seeing her house of cards collapse. But he stopped before he touched her, his fingers hovering above her temple.

She didn’t move at all, holding her breath, her lips lightly apart, staring at him. Out of the corners of her eyes, she saw his hand trembling, ever so slightly. Oh, he was angry. Boring into her with his eyes, then biting his lower lip as his grin started to shift. It was less vengeful. Maybe with some irony?

He started chuckling under his breath, suddenly closing his eyes and throwing his head back for a moment.

Then, he dropped his hand.

She sighed, breathing out some of her tension.

When his eyes snapped to her again, the chuckle had stopped and he observed her for a few seconds. There was a small shake of his head. “One hell of a gambler, you are.”

She had to control her breath to not shudder. She felt like she wanted to sink on the floor, her knees suddenly felt like jelly. “I told you I have nothing to lose.” Her voice was slurring.

“And you hopefully remember that this isn’t quite true,” he murmured, his voice too close, because he was too close. Like an intimate reminder that he still held most of the power. As if she didn’t know that.

“So no more shocks?” she decided to ask instead.

His eyes narrowed, arrogance in his features. “We’ll see how it goes.”

That was good enough for her. “Maybe you should tell me then what it is I do.” She nodded to the machine in question.

“Just stand there,” he sighed, pointing at the machine, something resigned about him as he walked to the control panel.

Rose took another breath as he finally went out of her personal space. Then she did for once what he was asking. Focusing on the humming device, because it was easier than sorting her messy thoughts and emotions. That had been a close call. And while it strengthened her to believe in her strange intuition right now, it also reminded her that she was – like he once said – on thin ice with him.

“Touch it,” she heard his voice. “On that panel. Like last time.”

She stretched out her hand and did it.

There was something. She felt it shift and align in a way she couldn’t comprehend. And something was pulling at her head. “Is this thing telepathic?” she tried to understand her sensations. But of course he didn’t answer. She rolled her eyes after a while.

“Tell me what you feel,” he demanded eventually.

But she wasn’t sure she could put that into words. “It’s pulling in my head. Like …” she faltered, “like when you invaded. Just less harsh.”

“Anything else?” he asked untouched and she felt bitter for a moment, not really understanding why. Of course, he wouldn’t feel bad about it.

“It feels … like everything is falling into place, when I touch it. Or at least … almost.”

“Anything else?”

She blinked and turned around. “Like what?”

He tipped the console, like he was in thought. “I think we make another trip, you an’ me.”

Rose hadn’t expected that and was a bit dumbstruck for a moment. He faced her and stepped closer. “Let go of that,” he waived and she did, still irritated. He drove in front of her, demanding her attention with his presence. “You know you won’t come far if you run. So just … don’t.” He gritted his teeth lightly at the last word. He obviously needed her, Rose found some security in that. Needless to say, he was still very dangerous.

<>

They apparently were traipsing round more markets. This one was a bit fancier than the last one, everything smelled of money, even if Rose didn’t even know if this planet had any.

“What are we after again?” Rose sighed, walking by his side.

“A match.”

She frowned. “Cryptic.”

“Not my fault when you’re slow at figuring stuff out.”

He was baiting her and still, it got her angry. “Can’t solve a puzzle without the pieces, now can I?”

He suddenly grabbed her arm again, changing direction. This time, his screwdriver was scanning a liquid in a bottle before he pointed it at her again. “Seriously, what are you doing?” she shook her head.

“Ignoring your pointless questions, didn’t you notice?” he said without looking up. After a moment, he let the screwdriver sink, sighing deeply.

“No luck, huh?” she commented drily. “I’m so sorry.”

He pushed her further to the next boot, skimming through some stuff there. Rose turned away, annoyed and also exhausted. Was there a way to make him talk? Up until now, he really was either cruel to her or ignoring her, despite their weird last mental encounter that she didn’t want to think too closely about. And she came to appreciate the moments when he would ignore her. She didn’t do that enough in the past.

When Rose let her eyes wander over the market, it wasn’t really with focus. It was trying to catch her breath and zone out for a moment. To distract herself from the weight of her reality. Until something utterly unexpected and unbelievable caught her attention. Her breath hitched, her heart leapt into her throat, and her pulse quickened. The figure she saw was tall, with that unmistakable coat flapping in the breeze.

Could it be?

Could it be, that out of nowhere and far away from any hope whatsoever – she saw the Doctor over there?

He was distant and he wasn’t looking in her direction. At first, she was so shocked, but then wanted to run, to scream, to cry. She thought she must be hallucinating, finally getting mad and seeing things she yearned for even if they were impossible. Panic and hope flooded her system all at once. He was here.

Her feet itched to move, her throat to call out his name. Finally freeing her from this nightmare. But before she could act, a cold whisper cut through her thoughts.

“Oh, go ahead.” The Master’s voice was low, barely more than a breath against her neck, right behind her. Sending a chill down her spine. She heard dark amusement in his tone. “Go to him.”

Rose tensed, her heart hammering like it wanted to explode. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

The Master leaned in closer, his voice silky, dripping with malice. “Go on, Rose. Run to your precious Doctor. He’s right there. You could be free of me in seconds. Provided he has found a way to separate that bond between us.” He came even closer, looming behind her. “Just know that if you run – I’ll kill every last person in this place here.”

Her blood ran cold as his words wrapped around her like a vice. Her stomach twisted and her heart sank into the pit of her chest. She saw all these people, families – innocent and unaware of the threat above their heads depending on her decision that wasn’t one.

Her throat tightened, her fist clenched at her sides as the weight of their silent battle right now sank on her shoulders. Because he would do it. It wasn’t an idle threat. He would absolutely start a massacre. And he probably enjoyed her inner struggle.

When she found the Doctor again, far away in the crowd, it hurt so much, she didn’t remember feeling so much pain and heartbreak in her life. Her eyes closed for a second, a lonely tear she couldn’t hold back ran down her skin. “There are children here,” she whispered, but feeling already beaten.

His chuckle was soft and oh so cruel. “You know me.” She hated his almost affectionate voice, twisting affective states together that didn’t belong. “You know exactly what I’m capable of, Rose. So go ahead. Choose. That’s what you have so much trouble giving up, right? Your ability to choose?”

It wasn’t a real choice, though. Even though a small, dark part of her wished she didn’t care. And he – for whatever reason – picked up on it. “It would be so easy, wouldn’t it? To just run to him, let him sweep you away, maybe in a way you always dreamt of.” A shudder infiltrated her, reminding her he had seen all her fantasies, reminding her he had ways to twist her hopes and dreams in a way no one else could. “What’s a few people you don’t even know, hmm? That’s barely a price.”

Her eyes burned with unshed tears, her jaw clenched. “You’re deranged.”

“Why?” he chuckled. “Because you’re considering it? That makes you the deranged one.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, her fist trembled with the effort to keep herself in check, not screaming or crying. Of course, she couldn’t do it. But that meant that all her hopes so violently flared alive, were crushed so brutally fatal. Maybe the Doctor could still see her without her making a noise? Somehow? But when she opened her eyes again, the Doctor had disappeared into the crowd.

Gone.

Maybe forever.

The Master moved, stepping around to face her, clearly satisfied with his victory. “How did it feel to choose, pet?”

Rose didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Her heart felt like it had been ripped in two, torn between the hope of freedom and the crushing reality of her captivity. She didn’t even notice that she had looked down, until his hand found her chin to softly push it up. She wasn’t quite there, her head clouded. That’s why, when he used his thumb to wipe her tear away, she didn’t push him away even though her skin crawled. She also couldn’t read his face. His grin was gone, in fact he was almost expressionless. “We go back now,” he decided and when he lightly pushed her, she simply obeyed.

<>

She walked into the TARDIS, still in this absent state. She went a few steps in only registered a few breaths later, he had walked in front of her, so she looked up.

“I want inside your head.”

Blood rushed to her ears, panic instantly flooded her chest and her brain. “What? No!” she choked.

“We had a deal,” he was still all businesslike. “Once a week, if I might remind you.”

“Why?” she begged, she wasn’t above it right now. She was panicking and backing away. “I didn’t run or scream. Why would you punish me?”

He closed the gap effortlessly, following every step she took back. “I want to see.”

“What?!” she breathed confused, frowning, barely any voice. And with the next step she felt the wall in her back, a feeling she hated so much.

He closed in, so close, always too close. “I want to see,” he mumbled, repeating the words as if they were self-explanatory.

“What? What do you want to see?” she shook her head vehemently.

“Everything,” he sighed, his hands already in her hair and she felt her breath coming in short gasps. She was starting to hyperventilate, eyes pressed close, fists clenched in front of her chest, as if that could protect her. “Rose, breathe.”

Too sodding close. And too soft. His hands, his voice, it was all wrong. “Why would you hurt me right now?” Her whimpering voice sounded so foreign to her.

“I’m not hurting you.”

She couldn’t help it, her panic was bringing her to tears, eyes still shut, hands still fisted. Hoping he would just stop touching her.

“Look at me, Rose.”

She tried to control her breath, intentionally panting through parted lips to regulate her pulse, to calm her quiver. Feeling one of his hands on her head, the other around one of her wrists.

You can do it. You can do it.

She tried to steady down, trying not to fall apart even more. So she took one last breath, before her lids opened and she looked up to him. He still seemed so damn closed-off, even though there was something in his eyes. Something consuming.

“It won’t hurt,” he repeated. “I promise.”

“Do I have a choice?”

He tilted his head. “We have a deal, Rose. Unless you don’t want me to keep up my end of the bargain …”

Him infiltrating her dreams. Her head sunk. “I knew it was a shitty deal.”

When he now used his hand, priorly on her head, to touch her chin to make her look up again, he seemed almost amused by her sentence. Like there was fondness. It was only briefly, but he made an effort to at least seem honest. “You know this doesn’t need to hurt. You felt it last time.”

Oh dear God.

“That’s not better,” she whispered.

She didn’t expect him to get closer, his forehead brushing against hers, and her breath hitched. “You sure?” she heard him whisper. Her lids fell shut again. Trying to disappear into the wall behind her and failing. She felt his breath, smelled his scent and her whole body shivered.

She was so on overload, suddenly she was afraid she wouldn’t last feeling this way, that it would destroy her. And she just wanted it to be over. Her breath shuddered, before she mumbled, “Just do it.”

He didn’t need more. She felt him slide into her mind, so smoothly it made her moan and she didn’t know in what way. Like her tension was lifting and intensifying at the same time. He spread into her mind, pouring into her depths and winding around her thoughts, feelings and memories. At first, slowly if determined. Adjusting.

Then, suddenly, spreading her open.

Her head fell back and her eyes opened with a gasp. It wasn’t painful. But it was demanding. Uncovering her inner world of experiences from the earlier incident. Bringing it all to the surface. Making her relive it. Her hope of being freed. Her fantasies of running to the Doctor, hugging him. Kissing him. Feeling so connected to him and she felt the Master dissecting it all. Her darker parts not looking back at the consequences that decision would have had. These sensations were disrupted, suddenly. Pictures of them fluttering in. Like she was watching them now from the outside, being pressed on that wall. Seeing herself, from his perspective. All his. Her being in her bed. At night. Asleep. Him always close, hovering.

There weren’t coherent pictures anymore, everything bleeding together, but they left an uneasy feeling, touching her in ways they shouldn’t. And she screwed her eyes shut, everything a bit much. Right on cue, it seemed to calm down. His mental embrace surrounding and laced with the certainty of who was in control. He could cut her open and patch her up again.

But it was also a weakness. Since he needed control. He needed it to feel safe, to connect, to do anything. He needed her to know just now that he was still in control and it didn’t need him much effort to demonstrate it. He needed her to feel trapped in the corner now and then. He also needed to know exactly what she was feeling or thinking. He needed her vulnerable.

Her eyes flew open again, this time more sobered. Watching him with knitted brows. Seeing his eyes opening as well, fixating her. Similarly questioning her like she was questioning him.

Her thoughts weren’t cohesive, him climbing through her mind gave her shivers, friction and sensations of all kinds. But she – once again – had this notion of feeling him. And that, in itself, was wild.

She didn’t know if he felt it as well. Because she felt him withdraw. Her eyes fluttered close against her will as he spiked something in her on the way out. A sensation a little too deep and too close for comfort, but it left her yearning nonetheless.

“What the hell,” flew out of her mouth. It was as fast gone as it had come, and like always, the experience left her disorientated for a moment. She felt her body slacken, and she hated the part of her that welcomed him supporting her. His hand on her jaw prevented her head from sagging down, directing her to look at him. And she saw it again, him searching her, light confusion he tried to hide. “Got a good look?” she slurred.

He hinted a blink, a ghost of a smile on his mouth. “Quite.” He skimmed her face. “Did it hurt?”

What was he trying to prove? Him wangling his way into her head was still hurtful, if not physically. But she was too tired for that right now. “No,” she sighed, feeling her lids getting heavy. “Now let me leave.”

He lingered a second, but then took a step back, his hands leaving her skin and body.

She took a breath, her eyes nowhere near him as she moved herself out of the control room into her bed.

Chapter Text

Rose awoke from her slumber. Feeling odd, somehow. Drained, frustrated. But thoughtful.

She had seen the Doctor.

He had been within her reach.

Only to lose it all over again.

Was this a coincidence? It couldn’t be, right? Maybe it was because of the distress signal – the one she sent after she had attacked the Master and before everything had gone horribly wrong for a while. Maybe it had worked? Maybe he somehow had tracked them?

She left the bed, trying to clear her head. It had been emotionally draining and she didn’t know the side effects of telepathy, so there was that.

She went to her bathroom. At first only a toilet, the room was actually growing. A shower, a sink, a mirror. Could be worse. The TARDIS helping her, no doubt, and the Master tolerating it.

She let cold water splash into her face. Then propping on the sink and watch the drops fall off her face. Feeling the air cool her skin.

There was something else she was feeling beside her being drained.

She felt hope.

<>

She wandered towards the control room, which she had never done before. But the TARDIS showed her the room like she asked. It felt strange and freeing.

The moment she walked through the door, he looked up from the panel, observing her. She simply strolled over to her torture chair without hesitation, slumping on it, letting her arms dangle over the armrests, the right knee bent, so her foot was on the seat.

He arched a brow at her and the picture she provided. “Well, aren’t we comfortable here?”

“The chair’s growin’ on me.”

His eyes narrowed, but his grin grew. Then, he straitened up, slipping his hands in his pockets. “Isn’t that nice. Also, no headache, I assume?”

She tilted her head. “Don’t ask for credit for not being a dick.” His eyes glinted, but he didn’t say anything. Rose wondered what was going on in his head sometimes, but always when she literally did – or thought she did – it was dark and twisted. Even if instructive. “The Doctor didn’t leave me,” she deliberately told him.

He showed amused surprise. “Oh yeah?” He purposely looked around. “Where is he then?”

She rolled her eyes. “He didn’t leave me behind, he’s searching for me.”

His grin stayed, his eyes darkened. “Oh Rose. That your naiveté showing?”

She took a small breath, fixing her sleeve that didn’t need fixing. “You know, you’re not bad. I let that get to me against my better judgement.” Her eyes looked up again. “This whole ‘I’m not good enough’ nonsense.” She made air quotes, trying to dismiss that notion.

That only made him grin more. “Don’t pretend, pet,” he warned patronizingly. “Not with me, when I’ve been so deeply and intimately in your thoughts like no one else has ever been.”

She barely kept her fist from clenching, inside her flared anger. Because he obviously forced his way in there. But also because he was right. She consciously tried to relax her muscles. “I'm not saying it's far from reality. You’re obviously good at exploiting weaknesses.” She hated his pleased gleam. “I often do feel not good enough.” Her grin was subtle, but had traces of triumph. “But I’m good enough for the Doctor.”

His malicious smile deepened. “Just not quite the way you want him to, right?”

Oh God, she didn’t know how she collected her willpower to not overly react to that, so much fury in her blood. He was always twisting things, so couldn’t she? “You’re one to talk.”

That made him burst out laughing. “I’m really not interested in him that way, sorry.”

“Maybe,” she granted, and it wasn’t what she had meant anyway. “But something in there hurts you too.”

He pointed his finger casually at her. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is called projection.”

“Is it?” she countered flippant.

“Oh yes,” he snickered. “It doesn’t matter how much reassurance seeing him gave you. It doesn’t matter if he tries to save you due to his bad conscious. Your fears and your yearning for him would still be there. It wouldn’t change anything except that he could get rid of you then without having a bad conscious, knowing he saved you, but noticing that you want just a bit more than he does – something he could never do. So he could finally dispose of you. Having that clean slate at last.”

“I have fears,” she acknowledged. “But at least my relationship to him is real.”

“You’re a distraction, like any pet of his,” he disregarded it. “He needs distractions to make himself feel good and divert his self-hatred.”

Her eyes were piercing, her grin barely there but still sneering. “Like you need control?”

His head tilted, he seemed to search for what she was getting at. “I don’t need control. But I do enjoy it quite a bit.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” she dared him. “You need control just as the Doctor needs distraction – to make yourself feel better and divert your … maybe not self-hatred, but your fears.”

“And what would you know about any fears of mine?” he obviously decided to play along.

“Innit obvious?” she looked down again, trying to make it casual, because she didn’t know if she was stepping into the lion’s den. Even further she already has, that is. “You being not good enough,” she echoed her own fears, but she was sure something of it was in there. “You being alone.”

“Oh, poor me,” he taunted. “I didn’t know I had it so bad.” She was surprised at his steps coming closer and she tensed up. Him coming close was never a good sign. She looked up, but tried to keep her eased composure on her chair, even though him suddenly hovering in front and above her was unsettling and she just wanted to flee. “Maybe I should impose some control on you now, shouldn’t I?” he murmured darkly, challenging.

Her fingers twitched, itching to grab the armchairs, but she resisted. Did he really not see that he just did exactly that, immediately after she poked him? “You already do,” she whispered. “And it’s so transparent, it undermines your untouchability.”

He stilled, but she didn’t know if he was about to snap. Maybe about to play, which she also knew to be very unpleasant. “Untouch,” it finally slipped from his lips and like on cue, his hand came and she flinched as his fingers met her jaw, ever so slightly. “But you already know I’m more than capable of touching you.”

Fucking sicko.

She had a bitter smile. “And you demonstrating control right now helps you how, hm?”

“It just tickles me,” he snickered.

Rose gathered all her courage – and then slapped his hand away in one move. “’m not playing,” she refused and got up to leave. No idea if she would be caught, shoved back or assaulted in some fashion. She was surprised, honestly, that none of that happened. But she was also too afraid to look back. Glad he let her leave.

<>

The days went by and she was mostly left alone, for which she was mostly grateful. They had made two trips, but she still didn’t know what he was searching. He just wouldn’t tell her. Every time they were outside, she couldn’t help but glancing over the crowd, trying to seek out a certain face. But he didn’t come back.

She insisted that the Doctor had obviously tracked her, but she came to the conclusion that the Master had a way of masking them. If it had been her distress signal that made it through to him, it wouldn’t help much now since they were moving a lot, would it? Every time she was in the control room, she stole a look at the panels. She didn’t know if she would get another chance, and honestly, she didn’t know if she would survive his wrath. On the other hand, he obviously needed her. And she needed to continue testing her boundaries, even if she could get burned.

She was in the control room, sitting in that chair that wasn’t so scary to her anymore. Of course, it had never been the chair, always his device, but sitting on it still didn’t trigger her anymore. He was doing some tests and she was pulled out of her thoughts when he spoke. “Go to the machine.”

She blinked, and then sighed, before getting up to walk to it, just standing here. “You could at least tell me what you are scanning me for. Or why I can feel this machine. Why you connected me to it.”

“What would that change?” he said almost bored.

“You want me to operate it, don’t you? You want me to use it.”

He glanced at her. “It would be good if you could.”

“I already did,” she reminded him.

“You want to do it again?”

She missed a beat. He challenged her and she didn’t know for what reason. “If it doesn’t harm me,” she said quietly.

Then he moved and came up to her. “Maybe it’s time. Maybe you can do it.” She stared up to him. And couldn’t read his face. “You want it this way, yeah?” he asked. “No shocking you?”

She huffed, still not sure how to react. “Of course I don’t want you to bloody electrify me or whatever you’ve done before.”

“Then we’ll see if you’re up to it. I’ll get into your head for this.”

And instantly, she tensed up. “No, show me something else first. When I touched it, I felt …”

“Rose,” he interrupted her assertively, but his voice was so soft and she hated it when he did that. When he used this sodding voice in these situations, when he was clearly cornering her. It made her skin crawl. “It’s been a week.”

Was it already a bloody week ? She wanted to retreat into her shell, wishing she had never asked for answers in the first place. But of course, she wanted answers. And maybe it was a small price if it meant he really didn’t visit her dreams anymore. So she took a deep breath and then nodded. “Great. Fine.”

His smile was subtle, but she hated it. Her eyes fell shut when he slid his fingers to her temples and she felt him drive in. Again, like he pulled her interior apart to have space for his own, but it still wasn’t as painful as it had been at first. It fortunately wasn’t spiking so much other overwhelming feelings like it had before either. Which made her wonder what these different sensations and feelings were all about. Could he influence that?

It was still intense. And as he slid deeper, it was raw and gave her some friction. In a way she couldn’t assess. She swallowed a moan, her hands flew up to his elbows, grabbing his sleeves to steady herself. She didn’t expect his low voice. “Does it hurt?”

“My head’s spinning,” she tried to explain her weird sensations, eyes still closed.

“You’re saying I make your head spin?” she heard his insolent grin.

“Stop,” she whispered, not at all amused. “You tortured me with this, don’t be bloody cheeky now.”

“Fair enough,” he shrugged. “Maybe the dizziness will intensify a bit, but it’s not dangerous and it will not last.” He waited a moment, before he added, “Okay?”

Nothing was okay. “Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

With that, he crawled deeper and she gasped, and even if her eyes were closed, she felt like she was wavering. She growled, trying to steady herself somehow. Only to feel like she was falling, deeper and deeper into the abyss. She suddenly felt his hands, like they were holding her, her face, her body. “I’ve got you,” his words wriggled into her ear, like he was right there, and goosebumps spread on her neck. She didn’t want him there, but she also didn’t want him to let her go when she was relentlessly falling into nothingness. The blackness got blacker and for a moment she feared she would lose consciousness.

Only to see light. Feel warmth. And peace.

And power.

She didn’t expect him to get out, which brought her unexpectedly back into the room, her eyes cast open. The light was gone.

Also the power.

She felt her legs give in and she sagged down like a potato sack. She would have crashed to the ground if it hadn’t been for him catching her. “Whoa,” he called out partly amused, winding his arms around her to keep her upright. “Maybe a little much for your human brain.”

She tried to press her hands against his torso, even though she would just straight up fall to the ground if he’d let go. “You told me it wouldn’t hurt my brain!”

He groaned annoyed. “Relax.” He grabbed her shoulders and let her push him at arm’s length and she was glad that she could manage that. “It’s just a little aftermath, you’re fine.”

“Every time you do that, some new side effects pop up, how should I know?!”

“That’s why I’m telling you,” he shot back.

She shoved his hands off, when she was more or less sure to be able to stand alone. “So now I can operate this thing, or what? What did you do?” She felt like she was asking the same questions over and over again and he obviously used her while avoiding answering that. She had to try though, right? Even if it was tiring.

He observed her for a moment, but then pointed at the machine. “You’re free to try.”

Rose felt a hysterical laugh yet again beneath the surface, but it didn’t come out. This was so mad. She had no idea what she was doing.

She still did it, turning to the machine, stretching out her hand. There was undeniably something. And yeah, maybe she felt it even stronger. The pull, the reaching out. The power. She should question more what he did to her, but she hadn’t the luxury of that.

So she touched it.

Light washed over her. Millions of lights aligned to a pattern and it was so beautiful.

And so dangerous.

Rose draw back, suddenly overwhelmed and unsure. The moment her hand separated, the light vanished. “What the hell is this?” she whispered more to herself.

“Did you operate it?”

“I dunno what the hell I did.”

He twirled her around, pulling her out of her stunned state, and his hands came to her head again, watching her as if he could dissect her. She wanted to protest, but he didn’t really slip in. At least, she didn’t think so. But he was probing. Feeling up the feeble walls of her mind, something ruthless about it, even if it wasn’t painful. “You’re crude,” she said absently, wondering that her thought had left her mouth.

He huffed. “Never said I wasn’t.”

“So did I operate it?”

He stepped back, so his mental presence finally left her. “There’s potential, alright.” He turned around, attending the console again, not looking back. “You can go now.”

She considered arguing. But honestly, if he would ignore her right now, it was fine by her.

<>

Rose tried to stay busy. She read, she walked, she slept. Mostly. She had always been a sound sleeper. That she had trouble now showed her how stressed she really was. And it was no wonder, she was being held captive by a psychopath. But at least a psychopath who had stopped visited her dreams. Even though that was part of her not sleeping well. Always the fear he could come back, always the memories lurking in the background.

Also, something was different in her head. Her mind.

It wasn’t like before, he obviously sorted her ‘mental pathways’. But it was like something was lingering. And she didn’t even know if it was really him or his strange machine.

Rose was walking in the hallways, when suddenly, the ship shook violently, instantly throwing her against the wall. “What the …” she wheezed, trying to get up. Where they attacked again?

Like on cue, the door to the control room appeared.

She ran into the room, another shake let her stumble and she saw him hold on to the console. “The machine!” he ordered, pointing at it.

Of course. She did something last time, didn’t she? She had no idea what or how, but she ran towards it. Feeling its pull suddenly stronger. Calling her. Reaching out to her. And in one moment, it was like everything stopped. Like everything belonged. She heard the quake of the TARDIS like a background noise. What she started to hear from the machine – was a song.

A song so far away, yet so familiar. So intertwined in her and time and space.

She knew that song. She heard it before.

“It’s Bad Wolf,” she breathed in disbelieve. Not understanding a thing.

The next shake pulled her out of this trance, at least a bit, and she heard his shout. “Touch that sodding machine!”

Rose twirled around. “You teased out Bad Wolf. Somehow.” She groaned, driving her hands over her face, her mind was a jumbled mess. “It’s still there? How?”

His voice was shockingly close. “Go now.”

She let her hands fall and he was right in front of her. “Bad Wolf is the key, innit? You did something and now it’s connected to that machine. And you need it.”

The ship shook again, they both tumbled and caught themselves on the chair standing there. “Rose,” he warned, but she wasn’t having it.

“No,” she grumbled. “I won’t do anything. Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

There was a grin dancing underneath his face, but it seemed frantic. Like he knew his next words were absurd. “Better think about that,” he sing-sang. “Because we’ll die if you don’t continue.”

“Then we’ll die,” she snapped. She had a real bargaining chip now and she wanted answers. And if he’d refuse, they’d die. Honestly, that was fine by her.

She saw him squirm, but his eyes didn’t avoid hers in the slightest. “Not just us,” he hissed. “If you don’t help – the universe will collapse.”

That, on the other hand, made her freeze. What the hell was he playing? “You’re lying.”

She hated that he sounded so convincing. “Oh, I’m not.”

Chapter Text

They stood there as she processed his words, the TARDIS rattled, but they stared at each other, him trying to wordlessly convince her and she trying to read him. “So you’re saying I’m the only thing standing between the destruction of the universe?” she almost laughed, showing him how ridiculous that sounded.

“Right now, yes,” he said with no hesitation.

That laugh finally bubbled up. “You’re bluffing!” she spat enraged.

“Seems to me like you have a choice,” he countered. “You do nothing and find out whether I was lying. Or you don’t take that risk just yet.”

She fumed inside and was so torn. She didn’t want to give in, but if he was telling the truth – which she sadly suspected – the universe was in danger. Maybe he lied. Maybe she could find out if she had more time. But he was right – she wasn’t ready to risk it.

She twirled around, walking to that machine, feeling it pull at her, telepathically. She heard echoes of that song. And when she touched the interface with her hand, she felt felt it align. Like tiny little lights would coordinate. To something beautiful.

She didn’t even notice the presumed attacks stop, until all these sensations slipped away and her hand fell from the surface. The light in her head stopped and she needed a moment to reorient herself.

Everything was quiet. She didn’t move, staring ahead at the machine, echoing her calm heartbeat.

After a moment, still in trance or shock or whatever, she slowly turned around. The Master stood there, staring back. Almost with a grin. But rage behind his eyes.

When he sprung forward, he was on her within a second. His hand on her throat, the other one pushing her backwards. She crashed somewhere, probably on her chair, but her head flew backwards, he squeezed her throat. She gasped, at first only seeing the ceiling. But his face came close. She didn’t really grasp what happened to her until she felt a well-known, cool device on her neck.

Her eyes widened in horror, but her tensing up and gripping his wrist only made him squeeze harder.

“Oh, you don’t like that?” he hissed mockingly, she felt his breath on her face. “Maybe you need to be reminded of how this feels.”

“W-hy?” she shivered, pressing her eyes shut.

“To remind you how good you had it. And that it can change just as fast.”

She tried to get his hands off, but he wouldn’t budge. She growled out of frustration. “Bastard!” she yelled in his face.

He tilted his head. “Just one touch of a button away,” he threatened.

“You fucking need me!” she shouted, despite not getting enough oxygen. “You electrifying me is not as efficient as me just doing it directly. Or else you wouldn’t have stopped.” She took all the energy she had left to lift her head against his pressure, driving even closer to his face. Fury in her eyes. “But sure, do it,” she hissed, barely any air left. “Shock me and see if I help the next time. See if you can use my unconscious body,” she echoed his words. “I was ready to die just now. Question is … are you?”

His eyes flashed, his grin was cold. “You wouldn’t let the universe die.”

She huffed and almost started to chuckle. “You’re so keen on breaking me and are shocked that it’s working?” she challenged and felt her head getting dizzy. “If you leave me no choice, the universe will suffer. That’s just how it is.”

He was staring at her what felt like an eternity. Maybe she would die right here and now. Maybe he was too proud to let her have a win, however small.

But then – suddenly – the pressure on her throat and whole body lifted as he took a step back. Her body sagged onto the chair and she took a deep breath, trying to clear her head. One hand absently swept over her face, she partly tried to straighten up to not completely slide down over the edge of the seat and onto the floor.

After a few breaths and rudimentarily processing what just happened, he still stood there, stone still, observing her. Or maybe just thinking.

What a fucking psychopath.

Her fingers found her throat as she watched him disgusted. “You have anger issues.”

There was a small huff, barely audible, but it broke him out of his stare. “And you play with fire.”

“Well, you make me.” She now tried to properly sit up again. She wanted to leave, out of this situation, into her room and be alone. Away from him and his temper. She was so tired of gambling, pushing and standing her ground. But she couldn’t leave now, she had to press further. Even though she didn’t know with what power, she was exhausted from this whole game.

Only it wasn’t a game. And she had a feeling it was only the beginning.

“If we are working together – and I know you resent that sentiment, but bare with me here for a minute,” she sighed, “then you have to fill me in on some things.”

His eyes narrowed challenging. “Like what?”

“What is it your device does?” she asked directly pointing at the little thing in his hand.

“You already said it. It was supposed to connect you with the Chronon-Anchor.” He pointed at the humming machine. “That’s what it’s called.”

Okay, she was not used to him just babbling out information. She had to sort herself out for a second. “Connecting me, because Bad Wolf is inside me?” she wanted to clarify.

After a moment, he nodded. “Pulling it out piecewise too. Quite useful, what you’ve got there,” he quipped. “Only if it wasn’t so hard to handle …”

“Apparently it works better, if I use it on my own, doesn’t it?”

He stared daggers at her, but there was self-irony underneath. “Seems that way.”

Oh, he didn’t like that. That her helping voluntarily was the better option. “This whole market hopping,” she shook her head. “Did you search for components to make this connection better?”

Now there was an actual grin – to her surprise almost appreciatively under his cynicism. “As a matter of fact, I did. And I still think there are resources that can facilitate your abilities.”

Oh boy, she didn’t know if she wanted to touch this subject right now. The question whether she wanted that and what it meant for her in the first place that Bad Wold was sodding active again. In some form. She doubted that this would be healthy for her, but she also trusted him to not let her die anytime soon. Because he needed her. There were still questions on her mind. “How did you know?” she honestly wondered. “That you could connect Bad Wolf to this … Chronon-Anchor-thing? That it would work? I mean, that is the reason you abducted me, innit?”

She didn’t like how he looked at her. Still and calculated. Like he knew exactly how she’d react with a certain information. “Yes,” he eventually confirmed and it wasn’t a surprise anymore. “I … tested it on you.”

He never broke eye contact and neither did she. Partly because she felt frozen. “What do you mean?” she asked quietly, yet determined. The room was so silent right now, she could barely stand it. What did he do?

Now, he took a silent breath. “At some point, I tested it on you if I could connect you to the Chronon-Anchor. And then … I removed your memories.”

Rose’s mind was blank. For quite a while. She didn’t move, she did nothing. She didn’t even feel anything. “You caught me, ran some tests on me and set me free again?”

He didn’t flinch. He just nodded.

Now she felt something shift inside her. Only slowly, only sluggishly. As if her mind tried to suppress any emotions concerning this, because they would be too much. But of course, she caught up. And she identified her growing arousal as disgust.

As violation.

She had no memory of this at all. Simply wiped from her mind.

She didn’t even notice her look falling down, falling nowhere. Her words feeble. “Is there anything else you’ve stolen from me?”

He didn’t immediately answer. “Would you believe me if I said no?”

She felt sick. She felt like she was about to vomit.

She should yell at him, but what was the bloody point? She had to digest this first. That she was so utterly at his mercy both showed her how important it was to fight and made her doubt whether any of her deeds truly mattered. She would never know the truth of what he erased from her mind. She could never trust him enough to believe any of his words.

She swallowed all her feelings as she looked up again. Trying to push all her cold anger away. She had to focus on the things that could make a difference. “So what is attacking us?” She felt her own voice being sharp and all business.

Now he took a breath, sighing deeply. It was the first time he moved, a few steps back so he could lean against the console. Crossing his arms, scanning her as if he was considering how to answer that. “These are creatures called Time Wraiths,” he apparently decided to let her further in on it. “Ancient. Running on instinct. Can’t be reasoned with.”

“My, my, must be like looking into a mirror,” she drawled the words, she couldn’t help it.

He blinked slowly. “I can be reasoned with. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here, pumping me for information.”

Rose felt so strange, she didn’t know how she was so calm and yet so livid. She had every right to get that information and she hated that she had to consider her words to finally get them. “When they react on instinct,” she continued, “what are they reacting to?”

Now his look fell down, hiding a grin, his legs shifted as he observed his feet. “They react to ruptures in time. Trying to stabilised them. They are a sort of police, if you like.”

She frowned. “And why am I supposed to work against the police? They sound like they have good intentions.”

“Yeah, well, like I said, they react on instinct. Not considering the consequences – which are counterproductive, because it would mean the destruction of the universe.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “You know, you’re not making any sense.”

“Cut me some slack, it’s like explaining quantum mechanics to a child.”

Her grin was pinched. “You’re so clever, I’m sure you can do it.”

He smirked slightly, maintaining his own edge. “Ruptures in time mean that the Time Matrix is damaged. I’m connected to that Time Matrix. So they want to eliminate me as a way to fix this. But since I’m connected to said Time Matrix, my death would mean a major rupture, making the universe collapse. One they couldn’t fix.”

She suppressed a sigh and let her head sink into her hand. She didn’t know if she didn’t quite understand it, because it was complicated or if he left out important details. Probably both. She tried to collect herself as she watched him again. “You are causing these ruptures, aren’t you?”

He missed a beat. Apparently not expecting her to draw the right conclusions. With his next blink, he grinned a little. “Not intentionally,” he confirmed her theory indirectly.

“Not anymore?” she probed further.

“Believe it or not, I never intended to rupture time.”

She shook her head in disbelieve. “So, what did you intend to do?”

He cocked his head. “Does it matter?”

Yes, you jackass.

“You plan on me helping to fix this, right?” she pointed out. “I have to know what I’m supposed to fix.”

He sighed annoyed. “Let’s just say I was experimenting. Needless to say, it didn’t quite work the way I wanted it to.”

She tried to put it together. “So your experiment caused damage to the Time Matrix, which causes ruptures in time.”

“Yes,” he said very slowly as if she were dumb.

There was the need to punch his face again. She tried to ignore it. “And you’re also connected to the Time Matrix. Are all Time Lords connected to the Time Matrix?” Whatever the bloody Time Matrix was exactly.

He hesitated, but then shook his head. “Was part of my experiment.”

Okay, she got the basics now. She let out a heavy sigh, leaning back in her chair, letting her neck drop back on the backrest, watching the ceiling again. “I’m here to fix a megalomaniac’s collateral damage,” she moaned more to herself. “How the hell did I end up here?” She didn’t know if she expected him to say anything, but he kept quiet. After a moment – she felt drained with every second a bit more – she sat up again, looking at him again. He just seemed to wait for her. “So this Chronon-Anchor helps?”

He nodded. “It helps, like the name would suggests, to anchor the chronon particles – particles of time. It stabilises the rifts.”

“But only temporarily,” she concluded.

“Up until now – yes.”

So the goal was to stabilise everything with this machine. And Bad Wolf, apparently. “You think Bad Wolf can help to do it more permanently?”

He held his hands in front of him, one finger tipping on his wrist. “That’s the idea.”

She nodded. Letting it still all sink in. And after a moment, clapping her hands on her thighs, before standing up. Walking towards the door.

“Where are you going?” she heard his voice. Demanding, but not as sharp as she came to expect.

“Out,” she didn’t stop, didn’t turn around. “I have to think.”

She had a feeling he would let her. And he did.

<>

Rose lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling.

She had meant her words.

How the fuck did she end up here?

Digesting the new facts alone would be hard. Wrap her head around the fact that Bad Wolf was active and that she was supposed to save the universe with it. Together with a Time Lord psychopath, on top of that. The one who probably put the universe in danger in the first place.

Apart from that, this … mental work, this … telepathy – it tired her too. In a way. Not always the same way, but it was hard. It was disorientating. And it was foreign. It was obviously something humans weren’t supposed to do.

Also, there was the fact that he apparently had abducted her before and erased her memories. And it gnawed at her. Her thoughts circled back at what else he could have done and it probably wasn’t healthy. She felt them coming back to that, although she knew she had no way of finding it out. This messed with her mind in a major way. She tried to reconstruct her past, trying to deduct when he could have snatched her.

He was after them for a while, before he finally succeeded. They were crossing paths, they fought. Mainly him and the Doctor. At first, it was just as if he wanted to make trouble for the sake of it. Them being competitive was nothing new as she had learned. She remembered the Doctor having hope at first. That he wasn’t alone anymore.

Boy, was he wrong in having hope.

After a while it became clear that the Master was after her. As she had assumed for the longest time – to spite the Doctor. Which was only partly true, as it now turned out.

But, for the love of God, she couldn’t remember when he had abducted her before.

She also checked her body for any signs of – well, of what? Injuries? Scars?

Any signs of something unknown.

She didn’t find anything. Which left her alone with her circling thoughts again.

She stood up after a long while. Walking through her room, watching the green and dark walls. The metal, at first so threatening, but now – not as much. Her room almost soothing. For fleeting seconds.

She touched the metal wall, trying to feel anything. “Did he do more things I don’t know about?” she asked the ship, a helpless plea.

There was no answer.

She walked to the night table, opening the book. “Can I trust him that everything he told me so far is the truth?”

She let the pages run through her fingers and stopped at some point. On this page was a drawing, like a sketch. Showing footsteps walking out of a room through a door.

She sighed, closing her eyes, collecting herself.

Then, she shut the book close and lay it back. And went out of her room.

<>

When Rose walked into the hallway, it didn’t take her long to discover a door. One she didn’t recognise. One she was apparently supposed to go through.

So she reached out for the handle, pushing it down and the door opened. When she stepped inside, she froze for a moment.

Wow.

This was like … an actual room. There were shelves, a fireplace, paintings on the wall, a carpet on the ground, a couch. It was cozy. And yeah, she noticed him sitting on the couch, but she was too absorbed with the sight that presented itself to her. This didn’t feel like the cold interior like most of the ship’s space she saw so far. This felt homely. And surreal.

“I see the TARDIS gave you more access,” was his unimpressed voice. He didn’t look up from his book, turning a page. “Gotta have a word with her.”

She felt like a fish out of water the whole time, but this had yet another quality to it. “This looks like a living room,” she stated a bit dumbfounded.

“Sharp as a tack, you are.”

She ignored that. Taking in this scenery. The TARDIS nudged her here, maybe for one so she could see more of what the ship had to offer, but also because he was here, obviously. And he seemed relaxed enough. Granted, that could switch from one moment to the next, but maybe she could talk to him. Get out more of her many questions.

So she moved, her feet carried her slowly closer to him. If she already had the opportunity to enjoy a more comfortable environment, she would use it. So she just did it – she walked to the couch and let herself sink on it, sitting next to him. The couch wasn’t huge, mind you, but it was enough to be an arm’s length away from him.

Now she felt his eyes on her, as she still took in her surroundings. “Why do you let the TARDIS?” she asked honestly curious, still not watching him. “Don’t you have your ship under control?”

There was a small pause. “Oh, believe me, if I really wanted to, I could shut her down completely.”

Rose wondered if that was true. Probably. But on the other hand, the TARDIS helped her in her attempt to … well, at least injure him. So it had to be more complex. “Still,” she murmured. “Isn’t it interesting that she helps me?” Now, she managed to turn her head to look at him. “That I can feel her?” He didn’t answer. He stared back as if he was waiting. For what, she didn’t know. For her to elaborate? “Why is that?” she added after a while.

He tilted his head. “Why do you think?” he calmly challenged her.

Why indeed. She had wondered since the beginning. If she was imagining feeling her. Sometimes thinking to feel her comfort. But now, she had more information, right? “Is it Bad Wolf?” she eventually asked. “This all started when I absorbed the Time Vortex on the Doctor’s TARDIS. After that, I felt her. But yours s’also connected to the Time Vortex, I assume.”

It was slow and small, but she saw his grin. “Well, look at that,” he almost praised her. Even though there was always something patronizing underneath.

But that fact actually strengthened her confidence. “She tries to protect me. So, she’s on my side.”

“She’s not an ally, she’s an advocate,” he empathised sharply. “You’re familiar to her, that’s all.” He shut his book close, but didn’t look away. His tone more threatening. “But I still hold all the cards – don’t you forget that.”

Rose tried not to flinch. “How could I?” she sighed while looking down. She didn’t know if she was bitter or resigned. Probably both. But she was also not in an antagonistic mood. And she didn’t want him to be in one either, right now. She observed her own hands. “How did you get your TARDIS?”

Again, he didn’t answer immediately, causing her to search for his face again. He watched her like she was an experiment unfolding, but one he was interested in. That was fine by her. “I mean, the Doctor stole his,” she added, somehow trying to prompt him.

“I was assigned to one after graduating,” he said with a hidden grin.

She frowned. “Didn’t you go rogue?”

Now his grin grew. “I was assigned to one after graduating,” he repeated pointedly.

She never expected it, but her lips twitched to mirror his grin. In a genuine way. She was irritated by herself but brushed it aside. “So you stole her as well,” she concluded.

“I kept what was already mine,” he corrected.

“Sure,” she couldn’t help the wink. But her look fell down again. Her fingers fiddled with the seam of her hoodie. She came to this room, because she asked the TARDIS the question if she could trust him. Not in the general sense, of course, she knew she couldn’t. But specifically due to what had her all riled up, before she came here.

“You’re thinking loud.”

Her head snapped up, her eyes big. “Whot? Can you hear that?”

He chuckled. “Not like that, no. It’s just obvious.”

“Oh.” Honestly, she wasn’t sure what Time Lords could do. Especially concerning telepathy. That was one of the subjects that the Doctor had never really addressed.

She should ask. It was a good moment, he wasn’t homicidal or agitated. So why did her heart start pounding? She felt it in her chest and up her throat. “Why did you let me go again?” she asked, but her voice quivered against her will. “When you already had me before?”

Again, he didn’t answer immediately. But his face changed, ever so slightly. He became more controlled in subtle ways. His knowing smile was still there, but very restrained. His eyes had changed. Dark and calculating, but also … open? If that made sense. He opened his mouth. “I wasn’t sure yet if connecting Bad Wolf to the Chronon-Anchor would really work albeit it showing potential.” He cocked his head. “I couldn’t keep you for too long, before the Doctor would get suspicious, now could I?”

She felt tension everywhere. Her chest, her stomach, her limbs. But she didn’t look down. “When did you do it?”

His lids sunk a little in a dismissing manner. “Does it matter?”

Yes! It mattered to her.

But the actual question was another. Her lips trembled, when she opened them and she felt herself getting emotional, feeling anxiety and helplessness. “Did you erase anything else?”

She wanted an answer, even though she feared it. And she hated him waiting. Was he even aware of the meaning that held? Even if she ignored the violation aspect of this, it was so crushing to not be able to trust your own memory, not knowing what else was maybe done to you.

His face was a wall, only breaking, and maybe softening, after his next blink. “No,” he finally unveiled, meant to be reassuring, but like she dreaded – she simply didn’t know if she could believe him. He already said he didn’t do more, so was this more reassuring now? Hardly.

She sighed out her tension out of her mouth, trying to blink her tears away. Turning her look to her lap again. “You probably wouldn’t tell me if you did,” she mumbled, simply voicing her thoughts.

She was caught up in her emotional state, when she suddenly felt his fingers. Touching her chin. The touch spread through her whole body. It was unexpected and surprisingly careful. Also determined in his attempt to turn her head his way, but not forceful. Her breath hitched as she reluctantly let him. He was a bit closer and his fingers lingered on her skin even after she looked at him. His face resolute and piercing. “I didn’t,” he empathised lowly, and it sent a shiver down her spine. “This is the only thing I’ve done to you that you don’t remember.”

Her next breath was shuddering and she only now noticed that a tear had rolled down her cheek. His fingers moved lightly, until she felt his thumb on her cheek. Wiping the wetness away with a slow and deliberate move. Her lids pressed closed as she tried to suppress her shudder, not succeeding.

Stop.

He wasn’t allowed to comfort her that way, not when he caused her distress in the first place. And not when she was so deprived of any comfort. What sick game was he even playing?

She pulled her head back, glad he simply let her. Her hands had found the edge of the couch, her eyes still closed, processing this tumbled mess.

She indeed believed him. Kind of.

But she felt even more rattled than before.

“I gotta go,” she murmured, stood up and left the room in a hurry. She needed air to breathe. Which wasn’t possible with him in the same place.

Chapter Text

She didn’t know how she found sleep that night, but exhaustion probably got the better of her at some point. The next morning, she pleaded the ship that he would leave her alone. She didn’t know if that helped or if he wasn’t looking for her anyway, but she got the day for herself. Also the days after that.

Which gave her time to collect herself.

Which she needed to. Because, as it seemed, there were bigger stakes than her sanity.

She knew she had to work with him again. Actually work with him. She was his most important tool right now.

Rose was in the kitchen, pouring herself some tea, as she heard a knock against the open door.

Like she said, she had expected him to show up again. She still felt her heart drop. She turned around, seeing him leaning against the door frame. “Not interrupting anything, am I?”

“Only my mental health,” she quipped.

He chuckled at that, not negating it. “There’s something we should talk about. Concerning Bad Wolf.”

She tried to read him, figuring out where this was going. “Oh?”

“We’ve established that you actively connecting with the Chronon-Anchor is in both our interests. You don’t get electrified-”

Only when you might have a bad day, she added in thought.

“- and it’s more efficient anyway,” he concluded. “So we should work on that. That’s the way to solve this whole mess anyway.”

After a moment, she nodded once, half in thought. “So?”

“We should work on your mental abilities,” he stated. “You have a natural knack for dealing with Bad Wolf, I’ll have to give you that. Especially for being human. But you have to get much better still.”

Her look fell down, observing the mug in her hands. So this would be happening, wouldn’t it? At least now she could comfort herself with having a noble goal. “Is it dangerous for me?” she broke the silence that had settled. “Stirring up Bad Wolf?”

“Of course it’s dangerous,” he countered matter-of-factly. “You could die.”

Her head snapped up, aghast.

“You won’t,” he added casually. “I’ll see to that.”

That’s what she would have suspected. That he would keep her functional. “Yeah, until we may solve this,” she still couldn’t help saying. “Long-term effects aren’t probably high on your priority list, are they?”

The small grin was cold again, like she came to expect from him. “No,” he affirmed. “They aren’t.”

Great.

“So.” He pushed off the wall. “You can take your mug, but we go to the control room now.” With that, he turned around to go ahead.

Rose felt tired. But she didn’t really see how she had a choice.

<>

She sipped her tea when she entered the control room. Seeing him on the console. She took a breath as she put the beverage somewhere on the control panel. “You need a table or somethin’,” she commented.

“The TARDIS just provided one for you,” he said without looking up.

She blinked, and then irritated looked around. And saw indeed a small table at the wall. With some variety of tea bags on it at that. Rose couldn’t help it. A smile stretched her lips and she took the mug to walk over. “I like your ship a lot more than you.”

“I like my ship also more than you.”

She turned on her heels, annoyed. But then walked closer to him. “So, what do I have to do?”

“Training.” He finally straightened up and faced her, hands behind his back. “What do you feel, when you connect to that machine?”

She considered. “Like millions of little lights align. And everything falls into place.”

“How very vague,” he rolled his eyes and she fumed at him. “You connect to the Anchor now and I connect with you, observing what is going on.” She tensed up, but tried not to show it. But of course he noticed. He tilted his head provocatively. “Do we have to have the same conversation again?”

He had left her alone for a while. Probably exactly a week.

He sighed and took a step forwards. She intuitively pulled her head back. He didn’t stop his slow movements until he was in front of her.

“Explain it to me,” she blurted out. “What are we doing?”

His grin flared briefly alive, only for him to swallow it again. “What do you mean?”

“What you’re doing,” she spat annoyed. “You want to observe what happens when I connect and then?”

“Then I’ll be stirring Bad Wolf again. That’s what I did last time. It’s great that you feel it ‘align’,” he quoted patronisingly, “but you have to do it in a broader manner.”

Her mouth twitched, but she tried to push her feelings down. She shrugged. “Then do it.”

“With pleasure,” he countered and his hands found her temples. Rose heard the humming of the Anchor speed up, mirroring her heartbeat. She couldn’t control it. As much as she wished she could hide it, she couldn’t.

The moment he plunged into her mind, she gasped and her body leaped briefly, her hands flew to his elbows, clutching them. Her head was already in a twirl. “Tell me what you’re doing,” she wheezed.

He missed a beat. “And again – what do you mean?”

She tried to focus on him, watching his face, being far too close once again, his voice too clear for its quietness. It felt like he was with one foot inside, but stopped the process. “Tell me, step by step,” she sighed, having trouble breathing evenly.

It was like he was hiding a smile again. “Fine,” he murmured and she felt him moving again within her. Winding around around her interior. Her thoughts, her emotions, her impulses. He was slower than usual, she recognised. It made the sensation all the more clear. Her mouth opened, the feeling was … bizarre. And too close for comfort. “What are you doing?” she asked, but her voice was completely gone.

Something hitched for a second. Was it his mind?!

“Sinking into your mind,” he murmured. “Getting a feel for it. Finding everything there is, touching it.”

Her lids fell close. She wished he would stop touching her. It was gripping, riveting.

And compelling.

She hated it and was curious all the same. Another feeling he could wind his mind around, and judging by the crooked grin on his lips when she opened her eyes again, he did. He noticed this emerged curiosity of hers. He was amused by it.

She tried to ignore it. “You’re winding around it,” she whispered. “Around everything.”

“Yes,” he affirmed and with that, he drew her closer. “I sure do.”

She couldn’t stop the quiet moan as she felt him move. “This is so strange …” she mumbled more to herself, and then louder, “You just see everything, don’t you? Just looking everywhere without asking.”

A little pause. “That’s the point, isn’t it?”

“I thought the point is training Bad Wolf and not pry on my inner thoughts,” she snapped a bit.

She felt his hands move then, cradling her cheeks to bend her head so she looked at him again, her lids opened. “Oh, you know I’m nowhere near as deep as I could be.” There were dark promises in his voice and she knew, of course. He had been already much deeper in. And like he was empathising his words, he moved. She got again this feeling that he pushed her stuff aside to settle in, tearing her open.

She gasped, a meek tone escaping her throat. “What …”

“I’m making room.”

Jesus Christ, obviously.

“Don’t …” came out of her mind, but she didn’t even know what she wanted to say.

“Don’t what?” he asked after a moment.

“It doesn’t feel right,” she tried to voice her incoherent thoughts.

“Because you’re not used to it. One thing is that you’re human. There’s not really supposed to be room in your mind for another mind.”

“Great,” she whispered absently.

“Also, that’s the point I’d tell you to relax.”

She feebly snorted. “Oh yeah, because that’s so easy. Relaxing while you squirm through my mind and you can do whatever you want. I know it tickles you that I’m at you r mercy here, but it stresses me out. So no, I can’t just relax.”

She didn’t expect his hand to move, stroking a strand away and over her cheekbone in an almost gentle manner. She instantly tensed up, but he acted like it had been an unconscious gesture. “You already managed to relax more,” he simply stated. “It’s worth it, believe me.” His eyes sparkled at the last bit and she wanted to shut him out even more. She didn’t want to be anywhere where any of this was worth it.

He tipped his head, still holding her close. “Try it.”

“I don’t know how,” she whispered. And she honestly didn’t.

“I can just go in,” he offered, partly mocking, but also partly serious. Maybe even annoyed. “Would be faster too.”

She swallowed. “Like you did before.”

“Yes. Like I did before.”

That wasn’t what she wanted either. “Can you just go slow?”

His eyes flashed, gleeful taunt therein. “This is supposed to be work, pet,” he faked being scandalised. Suggestive enough that it made her want to barf.

She didn’t know.

She didn’t know what they used telepathy for. Didn’t know what they abused it for. But she also didn’t want to think about it, because she felt him latch onto every new thought, sensation or emotion that came to the surface. “You are disgusting, do you know that?”

That only made him chuckle. “But so much fun!” he let out, before pushing her closer again. “So come on,” he prompted, his demeanour changed into a not-quite-real goodwill. “Feel me,” he added in a low purr while starting to move again. Pushing against her inner parts. “I’m gonna be gentle, I promise,” he still mocked and she despised the shiver down her spine. “Your human brain is so delicate. So easy to disrupt your mental pathways, so sensitive. Gotta take good care of that.”

She wanted to growl against her lips, her eyes had fallen shut again, but it ended up being a moan. She hated that he had obviously disrupted her mental pathways when he had first invaded, making her head ache as a result. But the sensations now were different.

“Gotta push them cautiously aside,” he continued commenting his movements, poking fun at her earlier plea. “Gotta open you up carefully for me.”

I hate you.

There, he should wrap his mind around that thought.

He did obviously, because he chuckled. And then, she felt him. His essence bleeding in her space, pressure in her head. She hissed.

“Don’t clench up,” he murmured, his breath warm against her mouth. “I’m gonna fit.”

Her breath shuddered, she didn’t know if she was crying or just livid. She hated that he wanted to rile her up deliberately, leaning into obvious innuendos. That he was messing with her, literally messing with her mind. She tried to focus on how it actually felt. “It feels weird.”

Again, his fingers found her cheek to gingerly caress it. This time, she didn’t feel revulsion. She accepted that comfort, not understanding why at first. Until she realised that she had felt something shift inside him. Away from the teasing. “It does,” he acknowledged. “But I promise that it won’t hurt.”

She believed him.

Maybe for the first time ever.

Maybe because he simply meant it.

So she concentrated. And tried to let her body and mind slacken. She wasn’t in danger just now.

And she felt it in her head, how everything shifted into a new – and strangely also fitting – place as he moved in. And she didn’t even evaluate it any further, because it wasn’t important right now.

Important was that she felt power in the form of bright light as he stirred Bad Wolf.

Rose gasped at the feeling. She saw stars. So bright, it might blind her. But also so powerful. She could crush everything.

She could crush him.

“Don’t even think about it,” she heard his voice and he was grinning. She knew even though her eyes were closed. “You’d die with me.”

He told her the truth. She wouldn’t know how to handle that kind of power. She didn’t even understand it.

Something draw her in and she didn’t expect his following voice being so close, right on her ear. “Touch the Chronon-Anchor,” he whispered and it sent goosebumps down her neck, her arm and her whole body. She was feeling things unbelievably intense.

She opened her lids to lay eyes on the machine, ignoring how close he was, how he was nestled up to her. She hated him for doing it and at the same time, she didn’t care at all. She just stretched out her hand to touch the display. Feeling it connect. Align. Like it shifted into place. And simultaneously kept moving.

She tried to get it. But she couldn’t make sense of it logically, she could only feel it. And even then not fully capture it. She just felt she was bound to it. Apart from being connected to it right now.

Absently, her head wandered back, the Master fell into her field of view again. He had his eyes closed. Slightly frowning. Concentrating. He probably dissected her.

Two can play this game, right?

He was mostly in control here, she was aware of that. But sometimes she had picked up on things. So she tried.

He was concentrated, alright. Squirming through her mind. She felt that. She felt that he had no boundaries. He felt his need to understand. He felt his awe.

Rose blinked.

Wait, was this right?

Yeah, she did. He was in awe. Probably with that power that slumbered inside of her.

She felt him withdraw in the next second, his mind slipping out of her head rather abruptly, her interior snapping back into place. “Woah,” she breathed and got disorientated again. Quite a bit. She felt her legs give in and her head being dizzy. She felt out of place. “Shit, what have you-”

“Breathe.” His voice was controlled, his hands supported her.

She did what he said, breathing in through her nose and out of her mouth. And she felt the dizziness vanish.

“I got out a bit fast, sorry.”

She blinked her eyes open, watching him. “Did you again …?”

He already rolled his eyes. “Your mental pathways are fine. Just forgot for a second how fragile you are.”

She didn’t know why her next words were so certain. “You don’t think I’m fragile,” she said timidly. “You think I’m powerful.”

He blinked. And then outright laughed in her face at that. “You harbour power, I’ll give you that.”

She wound out of his grip, in the meantime sure that she could stand on her own. She was tired. This was always exhausting. She ended up winding her arms around herself. “So, what have you got?”

He cocked his head, a spark in his eyes. Oh, she so wouldn’t have it if he wanted to shut her out again. She was still glad when he apparently decided to let her in. “Bad Wolf really is good with dimensions. It helps the Chronon-Anchor to mend the rifts. Question is – how can we boost this even more? You know, so we can fix this permanently, so that the Wraiths shut up already.”

She flinched. “And are you closer to an answer to this?”

“Maybe. I searched for substances to amplify Bad Wolf within you, but maybe these were the wrong substances. I’ve got another idea. Oh-ho, this has something poetic,” he chuckled. “We are going to make another trip.”

She sighed. “Another market?”

He turned around. “Yup.”

She gauged asking this question, but she couldn’t not. “What substance? What do I have to do with it?”

He tipped on the console, probably flying them somewhere. “I do something with it.”

“Yeah, but what?” she tried not to snap. “Are you injecting me with it? Do I have to eat it?”

“Eat it?” His head snapped up.

“Yes, eat it!” She was so annoyed at him. “I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking. What happens to me when you use it to amplify Bad Wolf? This is my body, my mind.”

She didn’t like his cold smile, however small. His piercing eyes. “Oh, pet, I think you’ve got the wrong impression,” he mocked her, but she didn’t even know about what. And as he slowly stepped towards her, she wanted to back off. She felt again, like she was being preyed on. He came still closer, but she refused to move. He looked down on her with fake compassion. “We already stressed this, how could you have forgotten?” He was way too close, like he always was. His face in her space so she could feel his breath. He exuded arrogant superiority, sealing them with his next words, “You’re mine. As is your body and mind.”

<>

When they walked outside, he held her elbow, and she felt dragged outside. Wind blew in her face and there was – like so often in her last weeks – a busy market. Rose was annoyed to begin with, but as he walked so fast that she stumbled, something in her snapped.

She yanked her arm out of his grip. “I can walk on my own, you know.”

He spun around and shot out his hand to grab her arm again, even tighter. “I decide if you walk on your own or not,” he hissed.

She wondered why he suddenly felt the need to show dominance again. Probably because some things now indeed depended on her willingness. She still found this ridiculous. If she’d stray too far, she’d collapse anyway. “What do you fear? I’m still bound to …” She stopped mid-sentence, her mouth still open.

Bound to.

“Oh my God,” she suddenly realised, putting two pieces of the puzzle together, echoed by her earlier experience. “I am not bound to you, am I? I’m bound to the Chronon-Anchor.”

His cheeks twitched, containing anger.

“Oh my God!” she repeated, gesturing with her free arm. “It makes so much sense! Of course I am, you tried to connect me to the machine in the first place.”

He missed a beat, but then simply shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter. You still can’t flee.”

Well, he was probably right. And she couldn’t say anything before he moved again, pulling her with him. She tried to swallow her anger. Taking in the atmosphere of this location more. And she had to say – she didn’t like it. It was gloomy, everyone she saw looked shady. What kind of market was this? “So what’s the poetic substance we’re searching?” she asked after a moment.

They were at a salesman, the Master briefly grinned at her, before he asked the man, “Do you have Wolfshade or know how to find it?”

Oh.

Really?

“What is this information worth to you?” the salesman asked.

The Master stared at him with a hawk-like look, even leaning forwards. After a moment, he pulled back. “You don’t know sod all,” he concluded and turned around to continue.

Rose didn’t know what exactly he had done, but she knew first-hand that he had a powerful mind. “So does Wolfshade amplify Bad Wolf?”

“Yes. It enhances latent psychic abilities connected to time manipulation. Apart from that, it thrives on contradiction and feeds on unstable temporal energy. When used in conjunction with a Chronon-Anchor, it stabilises paradox energy while simultaneously boosting temporal psychic abilities.”

“Oh, wow, what a powerhouse.”

He smirked, still leading her forwards. “Problem it, it’s rare and dangerous, it’s not easy to get it via official channels.”

They moved past a line of stalls selling broken tech and strange shimmering vials, the air thick with smoke and metal dust. The Master stopped occasionally to speak to vendors, apparently not finding what he was searching. Rose, in the meantime, was watching. Listening.

Every step they took into the market gave her a clearer idea of the place’s undercurrent. Shady deals, hushed whispers about untraceable wares, and the occasional flash of fear in someone’s eyes as they skirted away from them. This wasn’t just a marketplace – it was a trap in every sense of the word. But maybe – maybe – also an opportunity. For unconventional ways to separate certain bonds.

A sharp turn led them down a narrower alley, the stalls more decrepit, the crowd thinner. That’s when the Master paused, eyes fixed on a grimy vendor hawking illegal time fragments – scraps of shattered timelines sealed in glass beads. His focus sharpened. Then, he turned to her. “You stay here for a moment. You understand?”

She mustered him. “You go inside alone?”

“It’s better for you, trust me. If you go inside,” he absently licked his lips, “you are going to be wanted as a trade offer.”

Ugh.

“All right, then.”

As he stepped away into the shop to haggle, Rose’s breath hitched. She didn’t even think about it, didn’t let her doubts bubble up. She turned in the opposite direction, blending into the shuffling crowd as best she could. Not running , she told herself grimly, just exploring. Looking for that Wolfshade.

She also caught sight of a vendor dealing with time fragments and time cages, whatever that was. She had nothing to lose, right?

“Time cages, interesting,” Rose talked to the woman standing there. “Efficient.” She had no idea if this was true, but the woman seemed delighted.

“It is! And the energy expenditure is not as high as people think!”

“This is amazing,” Rose empathised. “You strike me as the woman who might help me with another problem I have. Do you know how a connection to a Chronon-Anchor could be separated?”

Apparently, her question wasn’t completely stupid, because the women tipped her lips in thought. “Depends on the Chronon-Anchor, I suppose. Can you give me more specifics?”

Oh shit.

“Not … from memory, I fear.”

“Well, can you show it to me?”

Oh, damn. Could she do that? Could she lead this woman into the TARDIS and get some information on it? “I … could bring you to my ship,” she offered before she thought it completely through.

“Great!” the woman smiled. “Can you come in half an hour maybe? Then, we can go.”

Half an hour. Rose felt disillusioned. The Master would probably be done in that shop by then. “Can we go, like … now?”

She chuckled. “Honey, I’ve got a shop to run and right now is rush hour. But I will be available for you in half an hour, okay?”

“Okay,” Rose said meekly. “I’ll see you.”

She probably wouldn’t. This was a bat-shit crazy and risky idea in the first place. As she walked further, she decided to look after this plant. Couldn’t hurt.

She went from booth to booth, but there were no plants. And she continued, until she suddenly got the feeling of being followed. And after a few moments, she was sure of it. Seeing at least three people following her.

Fuck.

She started to run. She wanted to run towards the TARDIS, but these men wouldn’t let her. And suddenly, full-on panic flooded her senses. Rose’s lungs burned as she ran, the barren landscape of the alien market stretching endlessly in all directions. Her heart pounded with each step, the sting of grit in her eyes, the taste of sand on her tongue. She didn’t know where she was going – just that she had to get away.

She reached a part that felt more offside and she didn’t like this.

At all.

She realised that she had been deliberately lured here. She stumbled into the place, a maze of tents and traders bartering in languages she didn’t recognize. She wanted to turn around, but she immediately felt the first rough hand on her arm. Then another, yanking her back, dragging her toward the shadowed edges of the market where the noise was a little quieter but the dangers far more real.

She screamed, but was dashed to the ground into the dirt. She tried to get up again, but was held down on her knees, waspish laughter all around her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Around her was a group of men – large, hulking figures with rough skin and cold, calculating eyes. Rose struggled, kicking and clawing, but they were stronger, pulling her arms back to shackle her, dragging her in front of someone. When she looked up, she saw a tall creature with a face like cracked stone, grinned at her struggles, enjoying the fight she put up.

“A new one for the pits,” he said, voice low and cruel. “You’ll fetch a good price. Pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

Rose’s wrists were bound behind her, the rough metal biting into her skin as she was shoved to her knees again. She looked up, blinking through the sting of tears, her breath panicked. She was trapped again. She couldn’t even feel anger about coming out of the frying pan and into the fire, she was too panicked, blood rushing in her ears.

The leader grabbed her hair, forcing her to look up. “Got something to say?” he sneered, showing yellowed teeth. “Or are you just gonna whimper like the rest?”

“Th-the … the rest?”

He laughed at her, looking at his fellows. “The rest, she asks!” They joined him and she wanted to vomit. When he turned down, his whisper was malicious. “Oh yes, you are going to be a fine slave. All weak and submissive, I’m sure.”

Rose glared up at him, her eyes burned form both unshed tears and hot anger. She didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to give them the satisfaction, but she could feel the tears brimming, her breath hitching as she struggled against the binds. “You have no idea who you’re messing with,” she spat, her voice breaking. “I’m here with someone very powerful and-”

The slaver laughed, a deep, grating sound that echoed around the pit. “Who, little girl? Who’s gonna save you?”

Suddenly, a shrill whistle cut through the air, sharp and commanding. The slaver’s grin turned into a frown and she saw them all turn in one direction. Rose also turned her head, catching a figure striding toward them. Like he didn’t have a care in the world.

The Master.

Rose’s heart skipped a beat, torn between relief and dread. She couldn’t deny the strange comfort in his presence, which was a confusing feeling. But also dread, because he would be angry with her. His movements were both lax and deliberate, radiating a predatory calm she came to know so well. Right now, it had the opposite effect than usual on her. He approached with a deadly confidence, the kind that made the slavers instinctively back away in very subtle ways, but Rose noticed.

The Master’s gaze flicked over Rose, and she thought about the picture she must present. The bruises, the bindings, the way she was held down like some animal. His lips curled into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, his voice soft but laced with venom. “I see you’ve caught something of mine.”

The lead slaver puffed up his chest, trying to reclaim his dominance. “She’s not marked,” he said, holding firm. “And if she was yours, she wouldn’t have run.”

The Master’s smile widened, dangerously amused. “Oh, she does that sometimes,” he said lightly, circling the slaver like he owned the place.

“I didn’t run, I swear!” she instantly assured him, and technically, it was true.

His wink at her was sceptical, knowing. “I think you ran a bit.”

Rose felt her heart sink, she didn’t know anymore what to feel. She ran on adrenaline, she just felt overload.

“But she’s still something of mine and, you see, I’m rather fond of my things.” He paused, his voice dropping, icy and lethal. “And I don’t share.”

Before the slaver could react, the Master’s hand shot out, his screwdriver therein, firing. The sudden, brutal move sent the man flying back, clutching his throat as he choked on his own blood. The other slavers suffered similar fates, fear rippling through the crowd as the Master turned on them, radiating heat and power. Rose watched, stunned, as he dismantled them one by one, each move precise, each strike a lesson in control. Blood was splattering and she was sure it also landed on her. She was just too numb to feel it.

One man had fallen, his leg hurt, and he tried to get up again. He had no chance. The Master killed him like he was an afterthought. Rose was so torn, glad these slave traders weren’t a threat anymore, but also appalled by the causal cruelty the Master displayed.

The pit fell silent, the slavers broken and scattered, and the Master stood amidst the wreckage, eyes still blazing with the remnants of … she didn’t know. Something wild underneath his coldness. He turned to Rose, who was still on her knees, too stunned to move. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the violence still crackling in the air.

Rose didn’t know what to say. She felt her body tremble, her mind was almost blank. She didn’t even process these last fifteen minutes.

She was pulled out of her state, when the Master crouched down, his face close to hers, eyes scanning every detail of her bruised and bloodied face. “You ran,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl.

“I didn’t,” she merely reached a whisper, begging him. She wouldn’t survive his wrath directed at her. She couldn’t right now. “I searched for Wolfshade.”

“Sure,” he said lowly and deliberately.

“I did, please …” she lost her voice.

It was the first time a grin came back on his face, but it was pitch black.

She didn’t care how her begging him tickled him, she just wanted him to believe her. “You didn’t have to save me, if you don’t believe me anyway,” she said calmly, relieved she got some of her voice back.

“Oh, Rose,” he murmured, his tone edged with mockery, but something else too – a hint of something darker, something possessive. “How many times? You’re mine. And no one gets to take what’s mine.”

Rose flinched, part of her wanting to shrink back, to reject the claim he so casually laid on her – again. But if it meant he wouldn’t harm her – seriously, it was fine right now.

His eyes skimmed over her face, and she couldn’t read his expression anymore. “Turn around,” he ordered surprisingly soft.

She didn’t even question it. She did turn around on her knees. The moment she heard his screwdriver, her heart leaped, but then she felt her shackles fall open. A heavy breath flew out of her mouth, and she repeated it a few times. When she turned around, she saw him walk away.

With a deep breath, she forced herself to stand, the pain in her wrists sharp but grounding. She watched the Master’s retreating form, feeling a wild mix of emotions she didn’t dare to name or sort out.

She followed, her legs week and bruised.

<>

Rose stepped into the TARDIS, the Master was already attending the console. The familiar hum of the engines filled the room with a steady thrum, lately comforting for her but now unnervingly quiet. She didn’t know what to do with this awkward silence. Feeling exhausted, dirty and lost.

“Did you find something at the store?” she heard her own voice.

“A hint.” She didn’t know if she had expected him to answer, but was a little relieved that he did.

“I guess that’s good,” she murmured. Even if she wouldn’t be able to flee – preventing the universe to collapse was a goal she could get behind.

When he now looked up to her and stopped what he did before, she still couldn’t assess his mood. He met her gaze, partly searching and partly judging. “I told you not to wander off.”

Oh damn, why did the familiarity of his words spark a bizarre amusement? Her shoulders sagged. “Yeah, as did the Doctor,” she sighed. “Didn’t listen to him either.”

“Well, I hope the experience was worth it,” he countered flippant. And started to move. Slow, deliberate and predatory and she hated that. She hated how she still tensed up. She had to be constantly on guard with him. Constantly strategically balance her own moves.

He came close and his eyes blazed, his threat hanging in the air like a loaded weapon. “But let me make one thing very clear,” he said lowly, dangerously. “You try to run from me again, you try to defy me, and I won’t bother saving you next time. I’ll let whatever comes take you, and I’ll watch.”

His words were there to slice, his matter-of-fact attitude making this so effective. He was using appalling words to constrain her. Rose’s heart pounded in her chest, but instead of backing down, she leaned into the fear, drawing strength from the defiance burning in her gut. His words were cruel, meant to keep her in line, but she latched onto the facts, free from emotion.

She met his eyes, unflinching, and was for once the one stepping closer. Her voice steady even as she felt totally aloof. “No, you won’t,” she said, daring him to deny it. “You won’t just let me die, no matter how much you want me to think you would. You said it yourself – you need me. You’ve got a problem, mister, and I’m part of the solution. So do us both a favour and drop the act.”

Part of her couldn’t believe she just said that. She sometimes didn’t know anymore where she pulled out her last strands of strength.

The Master’s face hardened, his jaw clenched tight as he glared at her. Her challenge hung between them. For a second, she thought he might lash out, that she’d pushed too far. It wouldn’t be the first time.

But he just stood there, his gaze locked on hers, cold and calculating. “You think I wouldn’t do it?” he prompted, a tone like he was playing with her. And she hated feeling herself flinch, ever so slightly. “I could rip out your throat without a second thought. You’re nothing but a tool – a means to an end. And tools are replaceable.”

Honestly, he was mad and you never knew with him. But he also wasn’t stupid. “Then prove it,” she shot back. She had to follow through with it now, didn’t she? “Next time, don’t come. Don’t save me. Let me see just how replaceable I am.”

His eyes narrowed, his flaring anger was showing but soon swallowed by amusement. It was a wild mix. “You’re gambling with your life again,” he finally let out. “So reckless. Not gonna lie, I’m kinda impressed.”

Okay, talking to him was roller coaster ride. He suddenly stepped forward, closing the distance between them completely until they were nearly nose to nose, his presence overwhelming and suffocating. His whole mood had shifted, but his amusement was still malicious. “Say ‘Thank you, Master, for saving me.’”

He was trying to rile her up, but she made the experience that the best way to deal with that kind of provocations was doing the opposite of what he expected. And sometimes, she couldn’t do that. In this case, she very much found she could. “I am grateful you saved me,” she said honestly.

He outright frowned. It was almost funny how he reacted to true emotions. Not disguised with sarcasm or anger. It was always like he didn’t know what to do with those. She already had the impression that he had trouble connecting with people and used control to do it, she even told him as much. But moments like this fit into the picture.

And of course, she knew why he saved her. He did need her, she was a tool to him. It didn’t change the obvious fact that she was glad that he pulled her out of this situation. “So, thank you, Master, for saving me,” she added, no irony, no venom. She wasn’t above telling him that. But she wouldn’t lie if she said that his lack of response wasn’t satisfying in its own way.

She turned around and left the room without him adding something.

Chapter Text

The first thing Rose had done was shower. To wash out this horrible experience. And that was saying something since she was in a chain of horrible experiences.

It was mostly dirt she was washing off, but there were also some bruises. Nothing major. The TARDIS provided her with antiseptics and patches. It was enough, she wasn’t really injured. And despite the notion that, on the surface-level, she was dealing with what happened – she realised through her dreams that it wasn’t quite true.

She didn’t sleep very well, she had the occasional nightmare. It wasn’t as bad as it had been and not as good as it had been shortly before.

She managed.

He left her alone for the most part and was searching for a location that harbours Wolfshade.

At least she thought he was. It’s really laborious to get information out of him sometimes, even though it got better since it became clear she had some value to him. It didn’t belie their major power imbalance, though.

Rose was asleep in her bed, dreaming something mildly disturbing, she was sure. She couldn’t really tell what. Partly aware that she was asleep. She felt something on her arm. Maybe shaking her. Definitely touching her. She heard her own groan.

“Wakey-wakey,” it sing-sang and cold horror shot into her heart.

She sky-rocketed, jerking away, her blanket pulled against her violently heaving chest.

She knew it was him sitting there on her bed. Even though she only now rationally realised that, she knew before. It was like having flashbacks, she almost saw him sitting in the corner on that chair. Invading her dreams. Invading her privacy. Just invading.

“Blimey, so sensitive,” he commented, while sitting on the edge of her bed.

She fought herself out of her shock. “Sensitive?! You just came in the middle of the night in my bed.”

“Not my fault you’re sleeping so damn much.”

Her breath shuddered as she breathed out, her hand absently wandered over her face. She only now calmed down a little. Hating this all. “What do you want?” she snapped.

“Get up and ready. We’re making a stopover.” With a prompting clap on the bed, he stood up and left the room.

Rose took another breath, burying her head in her hands for a second.

<>

When Rose had showered and went to the control room, she was more composed. Having it all sorted out in her head.

“I was gonna go searching for you again,” he told her, not looking up. “Took you forever.”

She ignored it. “So, what’s the target place? Another market?”

“Nope.” He clicked something and she felt the ship land somewhere. Now, he looked up for the first time. “I dug up a place where the Wraiths … well, let’s say they left an impression.” With that, he moved to the door. She took a breath and followed him, after he was outside.

Rose had never seen anything like it. They were in a building, high up, she couldn’t even fathom how many levels. Or what was left of it, since everything was open. Like walking through a ruin. The sky was a faded grayish-yellow, clouds unmoving as if frozen in time. Buildings stretched up from the cracked ground like skeletal remain – tall, angular, and lifeless, their white surfaces streaked with rust and decay. Not a single sound echoed through the building but the whistle of wind.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Rose said, stepping cautiously over a shattered piece of rubble. “Why are we here?”

The Master strode confidently ahead of her and wiped dirt off a computer console. “Because, my dear Rose, this wasteland holds answers. Answers about our ghostly friends.”

“This planet is dead,” she still tried to process what she saw here.

He moved and stopped in front of what seemed to be a broken terminal built into a wall. Its edges were scorched as though someone had tried to destroy it long ago. “Myrris IV,” he began, running his fingers along the faded symbols on the console. “A planet with a crisis. Big one. All doom and gloom. They messed with temporal distortions and ripped a hole into time-space-continuum. And this desolate husk of a planet is the result of the Wraiths’ meddling centuries ago. They – as they do – fixed it.”

“Fixed?” Rose didn’t understand. And gestured around her. “This doesn’t look fixed.”

He glanced at her flippantly. “Collateral damage.”

Her chest tightened at the thought. “You say that like it’s nothing.”

“Not nothing,” he corrected, his smirk softening into something faintly bitter. “Just reality. You don’t rewrite time on this scale without … casualties.” He continued to rummage around and she had to process this as he continued. “It wasn’t easy finding this hidden point in time, but what can I say? I’m bloody brilliant. And somewhere in the databases they left behind, there might be data about how it went down. And something we can use to stay ahead of them.”

Okay, it made sense. But she still wondered. “Why did you bring me along?”

“The reason why I generally tag you along.” He went from control panel to control panel, never standing still. “Bad Wolf.”

Of course. “To see if Bad Wolf’s … I dunno, reacting?”

“Precisely,” the Master said without looking at her, his focus now on the flickering screen. “I thought it wouldn’t hurt. This place reeks of temporal energy, maybe we find some hidden insights.”

She had no idea how, but she tried focusing on the strange, heavy feeling that had settled over her since they’d arrived. He wasn’t wrong – something about this place felt off. As she let her eyes wander over the ruin city. Something that was never supposed to happen – happened here. She tried to differentiate between her adequate feelings of horror when she saw this magnitude of decay and … well, her sensing something beyond that.

As the Master worked on accessing the ancient database, Rose wandered the room, trying to shake the growing unease. The air felt thicker here, and there was a faint hum in her ears she couldn’t quite place. “Do you feel that?” she asked, glancing at the Master.

“Feel what?” he replied distractedly, his fingers dancing over the glowing interface.

“Like … pressure. Like the air’s heavier.”

“Hmm.” He didn’t look up. “Temporal residue. The Wraiths left this place broken in time, remember? It’s bound to feel strange. Like a bruise on the universe.” After a pause, “I’m actually surprised you can feel that, but it gives me hope that you’re not totally useless here.”

Rose frowned, rubbing her wrist absently. Her skin prickled, like static electricity brushing over her. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, the room shuddered, and a sharp clank echoed through the air.

“What the …” She looked down to see glowing bands of energy snap around her wrist – and the Master’s. They were connected. And from there, it went to the console he had been working on.

The Master froze, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the matching cuff now binding their wrists together and onto the console with a shimmering, crackling chain of light. “Now look at that.”

Rose groaned. “What have you done? What is this?”

The Master raised his arm, where the cuff glinted with light. He gave it an experimental tug, yanking Rose slightly off balance.

“Oi!” she exclaimed.

“Delightful,” he drawled. “Just what I needed. A ball and chain.”

“What happened?”

“I think I triggered a security system.” He was already on the panel again.

She inwardly sighed. “Well, can you un-trigger it?”

“What, don’t you like being chained to me?” he absently mocked. “I thought you’d find that intriguing.”

“Don’t even start.” She also slowly pulled at the luminous chain, testing it. His wrist was pulled aside.

“Could you not?” He arched a brow at her. “I thought you wanted to be free.”

“Would love it, to be honest.”

He pulled out his screwdriver. “Okay, let’s see.” He pointed it at the console and used it. Rose flinched as sparks flew and was happy to see the light vanish. Only to realise that the chain to the console was gone, the one between them was very much active. “Hm,” he made drily.

“And?” she prompted.

He flipped through the data, but suddenly moaned. “Aw, crap.” Rose was already annoyed, even before he elaborated. “We have to go to the computer core to deactivate the security system.”

“Or else?”

“Or else this whole thing could explode. Granted, all of this is very old, but it could still function.”

Great. All of this was great. “Well, where is this computer core?”

<>

They walked through the bare halls. He wasn’t signalling her when he would turn a corner, every step was unpredictable as he seemed to enjoy the sudden changes of direction.

“Can you stop dragging me around like a sack of potatoes?” Rose snapped, tripping slightly as the Master yet again changed direction abruptly.

“Well, if you wouldn’t be so slow and let me lead-” he started, but she cut him off.

“Oh no, we’re not doing this. We’re chained together. That means we’re equal right now, and you’re going to have to deal with it.”

He laughed, the sound echoing off the walls. “How adorable.”

She fumed. “What?!”

“You. Pretending to have power.”

She stopped dead, yanking the chain hard enough to make him stumble. “Listen, mate. You led us into this mess. So either you find a way out of here, or I’ll–”

“You’ll what?” His grin widened, and there was a glint in his eyes that sent a shiver down her spine. He was right in front of her, hovering. “Yank on the chain again? Go ahead. I might enjoy it.”

Her cheeks flushed hot, and she tried to step back. “Don’t be disgusting.”

The Master’s grin sharpened as he took a deliberate step closer. “Are you sure you’re disgusted? Maybe you’ve forgotten I’ve had a decent look into all your hidden little fantasies.”

Blood was rushing in her ears, her heart pounded up her throat. “You can’t help yourself, can you?” she whispered appalled. “You simply are disgusting. First, you have no right knowing all this in the first place. And second,” she spat and even took a step forwards to hiss in his face, “being chained to you makes me wanna vomit.”

He chuckled, showing his teeth. She partly looked through him in an attempt to beam herself away. Without such luck. His chuckle faded, his grin stayed. “Sure,” he eventually said and turned around to continue walking.

She tried to keep up. Maybe he actually moved less abruptly. Her thoughts were in a rush in a way that made her comfortably numb for the moment, but that changed as the energy chain on her wrist cut into her flesh. “Ouch!” she called out and stopped. It wasn’t that bad, really, but it had been surprising.

“Oh yeah,” he made. “Maybe I should have mentioned that this could potentially hurt us if we can’t deactivate it.”

Her eyes grew. “What?”

“Well, it is a security system,” he shrugged.

Well, shit. “You sure we can’t just leave?”

“As a matter of fact, we probably could.” With this, he turned around and dragged her with him.

She needed a moment to catch on. “So, you’re saying we could leave and save us, but we’re not?”

“Yup.”

“For crying out loud,” she muttered, glaring at him. “You’re going to get us killed over this.”

“Possibly,” he said with a casual shrug. “But I’d rather die trying than leave empty-handed.”

She stared at him, incredulous. “You’re insane.”

“Finally catching on, are we?”

They came to another panel, where he took a look at. Rose sighed. “So, where is this core?”

“Hm,” he made absently. “I think the normal access is destroyed.”

“Super,” she rolled her eyes.

He turned around and she winced as his screwdriver blew up the wall in front of them. Rumble flew to the sides and dust swelled up. He seemed happy. “Great, that’s our access to the tunnel system. It should lead us to the core.”

He wanted to go, but she stood still, holding him back. “You just blew a hole into a wall.”

“Yeah,” he prompted her. “I’m improvising, Rose. Try to keep up.”

She blinked. “Improvising. How comforting.”

“It should be. I’m very good at it.”

“Yeah, but,” she pointed at the hole, “will it hold? Or will it likely break down on us and you just ignore that because you don’t care?”

“Would you believe if I said it’s safe?”

She huffed. “No.”

“Then it doesn’t matter. Now move,” he demonstratively pulled his chained arm.

She considered fighting this, but in the end, she came with him. Because no matter how reckless he was – he didn’t want to die. His survival had top priority to him. Maybe, in this case, being chained to him wasn’t a disadvantage.

He climbed into the shaft and she followed him. It was inconvenient with them chained together crawling through this tunnel. At least it was his left and her right wrist, so that worked out okay. It was still too narrow to really crawl side by side and the chain was barely long enough to crawl behind one another. But somehow, they moved forwards.

Even here, you saw how old these tunnels were. And some point, they were apparently crawling on an outer wall and the holes there showed the panorama of the dead city.

A dead world.

“It’s awful, isn’t it?” her quiet voice swept into the air.

The Master didn’t respond immediately. “What is?”

“What happened here,” she said, her tone sombre. “An entire civilization, just … gone.”

The Master stopped crawling for a beat, clearly taken aback. He twisted around as much as the cramped space allowed, glancing at her over his shoulder. “You actually care? You didn’t know these people.”

Rose’s brow furrowed. “Of course I care, when I think about it. They didn’t deserve this.”

He studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he turned back and continued crawling forward. “It was centuries ago, Rose. You’re getting worked up over a footnote in history.”

She kept following him, her voice absently thoughtful. “I thought time was relative.”

The Master let out a low chuckle that sounded more amused than bitter. “Touché.”

“Don’t laugh,” she said. “You brought me here. You wanted me to feel it, didn’t you? This place … what happened here … it’s like it’s still echoing.”

“That’s not why I brought you here,” he replied, his voice quieter now, more serious. “I brought you here because this planet’s destruction left scars in the timeline. Scars the Wraiths left behind. And if you’re going to help stop them, you need to learn how to feel that.”

Rose bit her lip, a certain curiosity sparked in her. She knew he didn’t really care, but he was telepathic. “And what about you? Do you feel it?”

The Master turned his head slightly, his voice tinged with irritation – or maybe something else. “Don’t waste your empathy on me, Rose. I’ve seen worse than this. Done worse.”

Rose wasn’t sure if she caught something in his expression. Something that didn’t quite fit his statement. Of course, it was probably true, but she chased after the irritation she picked up. She stared at his back for a moment, piecing together his words, his tone, and the sharp edges he tried so hard to hide. And then it clicked.

Gallifrey.

Her throat tightened, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure if she should say anything. Couldn’t pinpoint how he’d react, didn’t know his thoughts or feelings concerning this at all. But she also didn’t want to ignore it, didn’t know if she was just nosy or felt empathetic. She didn’t know which one was more comfortable to her, but the words came out before she could stop them.

“You’ve lost a planet too,” she said softly.

She felt the faint freeze of his movement, too brief to really call it that. “Well spotted,” he said drily, but he was obviously deflecting.

He continued moving and didn’t say anything else. “I’m sorry,” she eventually said just because it felt like the decent thing to do. No wonder she felt a certain loneliness in him. Or was it just her explanation? He was clearly a psychopath, did he even care? Or was the loss of Gallifrey simply reality, just like this planet? “Is that the reason you feel lonely?” she didn’t even think about her words. “Or is that just you being you?”

He stopped, turning around. Watching her with a bewildered mix of amusement and sharpness. “Excuse me?” he asked with a dangerous gleam.

Rose missed a beat, but was in the mood to push forwards. “Oh, you know you don’t want to be alone. Not really. You’re just dysfunctional about it. You want to be the one in control. If you’re the one pulling the strings, no one can hurt you, right?”

He skimmed her face like he didn’t know whether to laugh at or peel the skin off her face. “You’re keen on trying to latch on to something, aren’t you?” he snidely remarked. “To get some kind of … upper hand.”

Before she could answer, his screwdriver shot against the wall in front of him. The wall crashed down, revealing a room. He slipped through the wreckage, wrenching her with him. She stumbled and faltered, trying to get upright, but he pulled so hard at her, she had to use her free hand on his shoulder to steady herself. “I tell you what, pet,” he snarled, keeping her close as they stood in front of each other, “you don’t have the upper hand. Ever.”

“I didn’t-”

“Shut up.” The words were harsh, mean. Not really surprising, but something about them muted her. She saw it in his eyes, something wild and untamed. She didn’t know if it was him on the edge of snapping again. “It’s true that you’re convenient,” he continued after a pause. “It’s true you’re a tool against the Wraiths. But like I already said, that’s all you are.” He hissed the words, pulling her yet closer and her insides curled. “Nothing but a convenient tool for me to use.”

She wanted to back off, out of his oppressive shadow. She didn’t really know which of her words had provoked this reaction. “Oh, don’t worry that you’re not in control here, I know that you are,” she whispered. “You don’t have to demonstrate it every few seconds.”

“Oh, this is not demonstrating, this is merely reminding. A demonstration would look different. Don’t get on my nerves, Rose.” With that cold threat, he turned around, pulling her unavoidably with him.

She hated that stupid chain, she needed space from him. Being close to him was endurable only to a certain extent. At some point, the stress and exhaustion was simply too much.

She tried to focus on the room. It looked like they were in fact at the computer core. Which was probably good. The room was relatively small and round, the walls were the computers, as it seemed. Looking old, but still partly blinking. The lights were red, tinting the room. She wanted to ask him if he could deactivate the chains, but at the same time didn’t want to talk to him at all.

As she tried to focus on herself, she recognised something.

Something felt different here. She felt this before, but here it was more prominent.

Like something was wrong. In the wrong order. Like ripped open. And patched up again. She leaned into that feeling.

It was like instinct. Fixing stuff. In the same pattern again and again. It wasn’t complicated, not really. But it was powerful. Raw. Unconditional.

“Woah,” she heard the Master’s voice and he shook his head as he watched her. “Look at that.”

Rose was confused. “What?”

He scrutinized her. “Don’t you feel it?”

She felt funny. A little dizzy.

“Your eyes are shining a little,” he informed her.

What?!

“Makes sense, I suppose. Do you know why?” he asked.

He tested her. And she didn’t know why the answer came so naturally to her. “Because here, where we’re standing, is a former rift in time.”

His grin was satisfied. “Do you feel how it’s constituted?”

Did she? “Maybe,” she stated. “I feel … something.” Suddenly, she felt something different. Not mentally. Something very much physically. Her wrist.

She screamed as the pain shot from her arm through her whole body. So hard, she sagged to the ground. “What the …” she panted, lifting her wrist, seeing the light chain burn brighter.

“Wait a second,” the Master reacted by using the console. Her arm was pulled up, as he was standing. The burn only got sharper. But apparently only for her, not him.

“What is this?” she whimpered as the pain shot tears into her eyes.

“Dammit,” he mumbled.

“Master?” The word sounded strange to her own ears in this context. She had never called out for help to him. It felt wrong and still, it had left her mouth.

She didn’t expect him to crouch down in front of her, his eyes intense. “I essentially deactivated it, but the system categorised your Bad Wolf activity as dangerous.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks, it felt like the chain burned her skin and bones. “What do I do?”

“Shut it off.”

What the fuck.

“I don’t know how to do that!” she cried.

His hands enveloping hers was unexpected. He lifted them between them, between her upright knees. “You can,” he empathised. “Focus on all your physical surroundings, away from the mental activities. Focus on the wall your back is leaning on. The ground you’re sitting on. Focus on my voice. My hands.”

She tried. Her back and bum were cold, the surface metallic. His voice was steady, almost soothing, which was so strange. His eyes were brown. Pretty dark. Also not. The light here made them look both dark and light at the same time. Did this make sense? She never took them in like right now. His eyes were intense, always so bloody intense. Like a storm was brewing behind them and with a sharpness that could slice. But right now, there was something supporting therein, something that she barely saw there.

She felt the skin of his hands. They held her, his grip not harsh, not over-powering. It was encouraging. Even something gentle about it and that sensation confused the crap out of her. She never had held his hands like she did now, had she? There to ground her. Tether her in a way that felt real, not like the chain that had bound them together.

His skin was surprisingly soft. How could someone so brutal have such soft skin? His thumbs moved. Not constantly. Sometimes. A subtle move over her fingertips. Pulling her back every time.

She felt it. The moment Bad Wolf shut down, her eyes lost their shine and the burning on her wrist vanished, taking the light there with it. The chain completely vanishing.

His lips formed a little smile. That was far too friendly and tender for his face, despite having an edge. They still hadn’t broken eye contact. Or separated their hands. At that, she recognised that she was the one clutching him and she tried to soften her grip. Trying to wrap her head around the question why she didn’t simply let go.

He was the one letting them sink. Still holding on to one of them, his other hand almost absently, casually finding her knee. Him touching her send sensations through her body she couldn’t and didn’t want to categorize. “All right?” he inquired calmly.

She simply nodded. Then, he got up, finally breaking away from her, going back to the computer console.

She just stayed there. Looking into nothingness. Feeling exhausted.

<>

The Master apparently got the information he wanted. Data to analyse the Wraith’s operating tactics, their instinctive strategies and so on. Rose tried to keep her attention more on herself. Not to get lost in any sensations.

She half-heartedly heard his order to leave. She absently walked towards the hole, watching her wrist. It had felt like a deep burn. All the more surprising there was only a fading red line left on her skin. She softly traced it.

She didn’t expect his hand to appear into her space. Him reaching for her wrist was unexpected, as was his surprisingly careful touch. His fingers met the back of her hand, like he deliberately avoided touching her sore wrist – and that alone irritated her. He pulled it slightly closer, inspecting it. “It should fully fade,” he said, and after a moment, his eyes switched up to hers. Definitely a darker shade of brown. “You okay?”

His sodding soft voice again. It made her flinch and she looked away and also pulled her hand back. “S’fine.” Seriously, him of all people asking that was absurd.

She let him go first, crawling through these tunnels. Finally getting out of there and seeing the whole panorama of this city through destroyed walls caught her attention yet again.

This was collateral damage. A whole world should never be collateral damage.

Maybe she was doing the right thing, no matter in what fucked up way she got here.

He apparently got the TARDIS here, she was appearing aside them. She didn’t make the noise of the Doctor’s TARDIS. It was something similar, just a lot less obvious. Also, her chameleon circuit still worked. Rose had noticed before, but in this quiet moment she realised it anew. The ship always looked different. Right now like a part of the building. “Get in,” she heard his voice, but it flew right past her. She was bound to the view outside. And her feet carried her there.

The wall was missing, so on the edge, it went down several kilometres. It was vertiginous. Rose still went there to sit down on the edge, letting her legs dangle. Leaning her side against a still standing wall. Letting her eyes rest on the city. For so many reasons.

First, what happened here was horrendous. And part of her felt how massive it was. It just felt respectful not to dismiss that.

Second, she was aware that meant it was only the beginning. She had a lot of work ahead of her. And she was already so tired, it felt like it was an impossible task. And she wanted to hold off going back into her cage just yet. She had to accommodate all her diverse feelings, not sure how she’ll manage yet. She had to come to terms with a lot of things she really didn’t want to come to terms with.

Only after she’s seen his feet out of the corner of her eyes, she realised he hadn’t said anything to her disobedience. He was on the other side of the hole, maybe two metres away. And he actually sat down there after a breath.

She didn’t know why, but she was simply glad he left her alone. Well, partly. At first, she felt him watching her. Not for the first time, she suspected a certain curiosity from him, again, like she was an experiment. Like there were moments she was amusing enough.

But he also looked outside at some point. Like he was sharing her sentiment.

Well, he reacted to her asking about Gallifrey. He pretty much knew the horrible feeling of losing a whole planet. Losing his people. Maybe, he needed this moment just as much as her – or even more.

Chapter Text

“Ugh, come on!” the Master barked at the TARDIS.

Rose watched him from her chair. She sat there with her arms around her knees. “Problems?” she asked drily.

He was pulling levers. “The TARDIS is bitchy.”

Rose shrugged. “She’ll have her reasons.”

She collected his annoyed look. “Well, she better behave. Because we’re going on that damn planet, whether she likes it or not.”

Rose knowingly sighed. “Is the planet dangerous?” she asked like the answer was obvious.

He was working the panel, but slightly grinned. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I’m not stupid, contrary to your beliefs,” she barely kept herself from snapping. “I remember you telling me that Wolfshade feeds on unstable temporal energy. Granted, I don’t know what it means exactly, but it paints a picture.”

He looked at her like that again. Cautious, observant, maybe a little annoyed with a touch of irony. Like he had to readjust his response to her due to something unexpected she said or did. It was always fleeting and subtle, but she came to know his subtle reactions. She had to, because she had to be constantly on guard with him. Not knowing when he’d snap.

“Yes,” he finally empathised and continued pressing buttons, making the TARDIS groan a little. “The planet is not stable. Which makes the TARDIS not cooperating even more outrageous.”

The ship shook a little and Rose steadied herself on the chair. But finally, it seemed to have landed. He started to move. “Get up,” he gestured as he walked past and headed for the door to open it. She followed him after an inward sigh. He stepped outside – into a green landscape. Not quite a jungle or rain forest, but lots of plants and it was wet, like it had rained.

The Master groaned as he walked outside. Rose hesitantly followed. “Should’ve brought some wellies.”

“Yup.” He had his hands in his pockets. “Because we’re gonna have to walk a bit.”

She frowned. “Why?”

He glanced at her. “That’s as far as the TARDIS would bring us.”

She warily watched him. “Maybe because she’s warning us?”

His grin way sly, his shrug casual. “Nah,” he made, not hiding the fact that he was lying. “Come on. The TARDIS made your shoes waterproof, I’m sure.”

He started walking and she grudgingly trailed him. “I hope you made my leash long enough for this,” she nagged.

“Just long enough,” he countered. “An incentive for the TARDIS to not go away.”

She rolled her eyes. “Love being your bargaining chip,” she mumbled.

“You’re an astonishingly good one.”

He was right when he said they had to walk a bit. Thankfully, he had also been right when he said her shoes were waterproof. They walked so long and through so many plants, she lost all orientation even though she had tried to keep up. She held back for the longest time, but eventually, she couldn’t help herself. “How long is it?”

He didn’t look around. “Already tired? It’s like a camping trip, isn’t it?”

“Maybe I hate camping.”

He chuckled.

As she looked around, she suddenly saw something she didn’t expect. She blinked. “Are people on this planet?” she pointed at a cabin. Looked like it was made out of wood.

He didn’t stop walking, but looked. “There are some humanoids, yeah.”

“Innit dangerous or anything?”

“They adapted.”

She frowned in thought as she followed him through the rough terrain. “What exactly happens on this planet?”

“The planet exists in an interesting spot,” he simply started to explain. “There are … subtle rifts in both time and space wandering through it.”

“Unstable energy,” she remembered, mumbling the words more to herself.

“Very unstable. But not so much that it would destroy the planet. There are areas that are almost untouched. And there elements, substances that are immune. Like Wolfshade.”

To be honest, wouldn’t she be in this situation, she would simply be fascinated. That was one of the reasons she had travelled with the Doctor in the first place. “Speaking of, how does Wolfshade look like?”

“Just about that.”

She saw him pointing at a plant. Apparently, they finally found it.

It was a fairly unspectacular plant, no tree, but a bush. Mainly green, its leafs long-ish. “Oh yeah, that’s it,” he confirmed it.

She stemmed her hands on her hips. “Pretty inconspicuous.”

“Touch it.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Just do it,” he sighed annoyed.

Well, since he was asking so nicely. She stretched out her hand to grab a leaf between her fingers. Feeling an instant rush running through her body, making her gasp. Similar to what she felt in the dead city.

“Oh, wow, this is beautiful,” she heard his voice and then caught him staring at her. His words and look made her uncomfortable. In many different ways. She pulled her hand back and felt the rush disappear. She took a steadying breath. “Were my eyes shiny again?”

“They sure were.” He pointed his screwdriver down at the plant, cutting it off the ground. “This is gonna be most helpful.” When she straightened up again, his head snapped to the distance, suddenly tense. Rose looked around, but didn’t see anything. “Bollocks,” he murmured.

“What?”

He groaned, looking around, contemplating. “I think a storm is coming.”

Rose frowned. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“Not that kind of storm. A tachyon storm.”

“Huh?”

He looked at his screwdriver. “I hate it when she’s right,” he murmured.

“Who?”

He let his arm sink, taking a breath. “Okay, then. Let’s go to the cabin. I guess it’s here for that specific reason.”

Rose was utterly confused. “What reason?”

“Move, would you?” he prompted her. “We don’t have forever.”

She moaned, but started walking towards the cabin. “So a tachyon storm makes those rifts in time, I suppose?” she tried to sort what was happening.

“Yes.”

“What happens when we’re getting into it?”

“We die.”

“Oh.” Not worth it, then. “How can the cabin help?”

“I told you there is material immune to that. Most of the flora is.”

Good to know they weren’t doomed. “So nobody lives there? Are there cabins all over for protection?”

“My, aren’t we quick.”

“Don’t be so sodding patronising all the time.”

“Keeps me young.”

She rolled her eyes. He was the one opening the door when they arrived, she followed him in there. The floor creaked under her steps, she let her eyes wander and heard him close the door behind her.

It was pretty much what you would expect from a cabin. There was a small kitchen, cupboards, a table with chairs. A little fireplace. She spotted a bed after half a wall. It was small, it was functional. Like a base camp was supposed to be.

She observed him laying the plant into a corner and walking to the kitchen, opening something that looked like a fridge. Or something. “It’s filled,” he stated. “That’s good. It’s not always a guarantee.”

“How long do these storms last?”

“Hard to say.”

“The TARDIS tried to warn you, didn’t she?” She could help the little smile with a hint of bitterness, but also enjoying the simple fact that he had been wrong, however unfortunate for her. “She had been right,” she added.

The Master closed the fridge, turning on his heels. Watching her with an annoyed grin. “She could’ve easily been wrong. These storms are unpredictable.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sure.” Rose took a few steps to let herself sink into one of the chairs. “And now?”

He walked toward the plant to pick in up, also sitting at the table, scanning it with his screwdriver. Analysing something.

This would be fun.

<>

Time could go really slow if nothing happened. There were books here, but in a language Rose didn’t understand. And his TARDIS was apparently too far gone to translate it for her.

When she looked out of the window, it was actually a lot more windy. It looked uncomfortable, but not bad. “Is the storm already there?” she asked at some point.

“We’re right in the middle of it,” he said without looking up.

“It doesn’t look dangerous.”

“Believe me, if you’d go outside, you’d die. Parts of your body might be transported away, other parts might age rapidly.”

“Ugh.”

“Exactly.”

She walked back to the round table, sitting opposite to him with a sigh. “So, what are you doing?”

“Pondering over ideas how to make this more usable for you. In a controlled way.”

“Any ideas yet?”

“A few.”

She watched her fingers in thought. “What exactly does it do?”

He leaned back on his chair, watching her for the first time again. “It boosts your Bad Wolf abilities, obviously. But when the Wraiths attack or when we eventually are seeking them out in the future, these abilities are also triggered. So you need a way and an intuition to tone it down or turn it up. You need to be flexible.”

He actually was with her this instant, also not all too arrogant or uncooperative. “What is the ultimate goal here?” she therefore dared to ask. “Your connection to the Time Matrix is causing the ruptures, which makes the Wraiths follow you around. Bad Wolf can maybe fix those ruptures, but that’s not the cause, is it? It’s you.”

He missed a beat, as if contemplating whether to engage, but he apparently decided that he would. “You’re not wrong,” he acknowledged. “That’s why we’ll be disconnecting me from the Time Matrix while fixing this. When I cause a rupture, we fix the rupture and simultaneously – in that sensible phase – disconnect me from the Time Matrix in that specific spot. Fast enough before the Wraiths come to fix it their way. And we do that until we’re through with all spots, shall I say. Until I’m completely disconnected and the Time Matrix is fully fixed.”

She was actually very glad for this explanation. It was almost like talking normally to him. She couldn’t help her curiosity accompanied by an almost-smile. “So why did you connect yourself to the Time Matrix in the first place?”

Nothing but his mouth moved to a sharp grin.

“Oh, I’m sure it has to do with power and control,” she teased. “But anything in particular?”

His grin widened, but his look fell briefly down. “No, that’s pretty much it. With access to the Time Matrix you have access to everything that happens at any point in time. In theory.”

“Don’t you have that anyway?” she shook her head.

“It’s another quality of access, not necessarily quantity.”

She needed a moment to understand what he was saying here. And she had trouble grasping it. “You risk the universe, any life in it, just because you want a slightly better playground?”

He sighed, still grinning in a way that said ‘You wouldn’t understand’. “No risk, no fun,” he stated drily.

“One way to put it,” she countered. Boy, was he messed up. She leaned back and wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a small shiver. “How about we put the fireplace to use? It’s getting cold.”

<>

It was dark outside in the meantime, and the wind was a bit heavier now. It battered the cabin relentlessly. But the fire was warming up the place nicely. There were moments she tried to pretend that this was cosy. In some fleeting ones, she almost succeeded.

He behaved mostly and they both were interested in keeping up the ceasefire between them.

The food was okay. Not great, but not horrible.

She didn’t really want to know how long they were already there.

“You look bloody tired.”

His voice had startled her. “Do I?” She sat at the table, he was watching her from the kitchen counter.

“Not as bad as I’ve seen you, but still.”

Oh damn, that sparked anger in her. “Yeah, you were in the front row, I suppose,” she couldn’t hold back. Barely keeping herself from snapping.

He noticed, of course. But apparently decided against riling her up. “You’re generally not sleeping so well, are you?”

She was confused. First, she didn’t know what he was getting it, his voice surprisingly neutral. And second, she didn’t want to know how he knew. The thought was too disturbing. “No, I don’t sleep well since you abducted me,” she murmured, almost sounding meek. Hating feeling vulnerable.

“Maybe you should try now. It’s nothing to do anyway.”

She paused. Not knowing how to react to that. Had he just sent her to bed?

She was tired, but falling asleep here felt unsafe.

He tilted his head, his eyes knowing, piercing, yet his voice was soft. “Is it me?” For some reason, a shiver ran down her spine. This whole setting, the night, the fire, his voice … it felt like he was closer than he actually was. “You don’t have to fear that I do anything to you right now,” he continued in the same way, looking right through her.

Her breath was kind of heavy, she was tense. “Don’t I?”

The silence stretched, their eyes were chained at each other. “If that’s the reason that holds you back, don’t let it,” he eventually said. “Go. Try.”

She was tired. Very much. Maybe she should really just try. She didn’t want to fight on fronts that weren’t worth fighting for. So she detached from his look and stood up. Walking around the wall to lie down.

<>

Maybe she dosed off, she wasn’t sure. But it didn’t seem that much time had passed. She was in a state of exhaustion without being able to fully sleep. Was she more tense, because he was around the corner? Maybe. But maybe she was just generally tense.

She stood up with a sigh, walking into the other area, only to see something she would have never expected to see.

He sat on a chair, leaning against the wall. With his arms crossed and his eyes closed.

She instantly stilled.

Was he asleep?

She wasn’t sure. This was unexpected, but did it mean anything? After her brain caught up with what she was seeing, the first thought that came to mind was that he was vulnerable. He was never vulnerable, he always had the upper hand.

But did this make a difference? Could she use this? Did it matter?

Ultimately, it probably didn’t. She was still stuck here, she was still helpless. And she needed him here.

Sobered, she went back to bed.

<>

Again, she didn’t know how much time had passed, when she heard him move on the other side of that wall. Probably not as much. She lay on her side, when she heard his steps come closer. She really didn’t expect it, but he walked around the bed in her field of view, plainly letting himself fall on the free side.

She was at a loss, simply observing him as he lay there on his back, his hands folded on his stomach, sighing deeply. Staring ahead against the wall. Looking kind of thoughtful. She just stared at him, waiting what this would be.

“I’m in a predicament,” he stated with another sigh. “And I have a solution you’re probably not very fond of.”

Oh wow, what was happening here? It was wild to her he even considered her feelings towards whatever he was talking about. “I’m all ears,” she said quietly.

“I need to sleep,” he simply started. “Haven’t slept for a while and didn’t expect to be stuck here. And because I can’t trust you not to try anything,” now he turned his head for the first time, directly watching her. He seemed closer than just a second before. “I want to use my free pass to get you to sleep.”

Oh.

She didn’t move. Trying to understand it without being distracted by his proximity. He had murmured the last words. He was calm. He was collected. There was something – gentle about him in a way she couldn’t explain.

She tried to shake that feeling off. “You already slept,” she pointed out. “And I didn’t do anything.”

He skimmed her face, like he was treading carefully. But curiously. “Why not?”

Fair question. “Where would I even go?” she answered quietly. “Even when the storm would be over, I’d probably never find the TARDIS. I could never leave this place without you.”

That made him grin. But even his grin was tame, laced with something other than malice. “So, you obviously thought about it.”

That was true. “I always think about it,” she mused. And he probably understood the magnitude of what she was thinking about. All the possibilities from fleeing up to, yes, killing him. It wasn’t like she never tried. She didn’t exactly plan on doing it, but she always considered everything since she came aboard. It was just survival instinct.

He acknowledged her sentiment with a gentle blink. “I’d rather be sure,” he still insisted. Saying it calmly, but they both knew there was hardly another way. Both acknowledging why.

She still felt tension slowly climb up her chest, in a way she couldn’t quite pinpoint. Her fingers nervously twitched, feeling the pillow her head was lying on. His look was steady, as if he was waiting for her. “You …” her voice failed her and she swallowed to bring it back. “You put me to sleep once.”

He waited a second. “I did.”

This telepathy deal was so wild and weird to her. She didn’t get it. He had used it to torture her and that memory was still with her. Then, there was work. It was disorientating and weird, but somehow manageable. Then there were the moments he just wanted to demonstrate dominance. All these were invasive, but had splinters of … something else. Something she most prominently had felt the last time he had put her to sleep.

“You can’t sleep anyway otherwise,” he continued, after the silence had stretched. “And you need it.” She hated how his lids hooded, ever so slightly, and she imagined his look briefly falling on her lips. She hated how it made her heart speed up. “It’s a win-win.”

Her insides bristled. “It doesn’t feel like it.” She should be angry. But she sounded small. Vulnerable.

She didn’t know if that was why, but he moved after that. Turning from his back on his side, facing her. Her breath hitched, her muscles tensed. But she didn’t move. He watched her a little while longer, before he continued. “Are you afraid I’ll hurt you?”

Oh, depended on the definition. And why shouldn’t she? “All you’ve done is hurt me.”

He held her gaze for a while, not negating it, but maybe in thought. But she couldn’t really tell. She couldn’t gauge his mood or guess his thoughts behind his brown eyes. So she really didn’t expect his next quiet words, spoken like a revelation. “I’d like to help you sleep now.”

They sounded like they were a mask to hide a deeper meaning and they were spoken softly and deliberately. Rose didn’t know what to think or feel, but they did something to her and emotions swelled up. He already explained, and she thought she had understood, but she still felt lost. Her voice almost broke. “Why?”

He didn’t answer. Of course, he didn’t answer. Holding the tension that somehow had built up and took her breath away. He even fuelled it, the moment he moved his hand. Slowly reaching forwards, leaving her time to protest. But somehow – she didn’t. His fingers lightly found her temple. And she expected the feeling of his mind sinking into hers. But he only let his fingertips wander, over her cheekbone. And the swell of her cheek.

Her breath she had held, broke free and it shuddered. Her lids threatened to flutter close. She didn’t know anymore. If she was glad or mad he didn’t just drove in.

“Can I?” he continued just as soft.

Why was he doing this? Somehow this felt like a new kind of agony. “I thought you didn’t care about consent.”

His hand still touched her, lingering at her jaw. He hadn’t flinched. “Can I?” he repeated. Even softer.

What was the point? She would have to say yes. They had a deal. And she had no choice, not really. Any choice was an illusion.

This just felt – different. In a way that made her tremble and feel like she was losing her mind. Not a completely new feeling, but with a slightly different quality here. What would expect her if she said yes?

Only one way to find out.

“Okay,” she whispered.

The moment the word left her lips, she felt it – his mind brushing against hers, slow and deliberate. She was bound to his eyes, staring. Seeing his iris grow.

She came to recognise the way he moved. With him winding around her parts. So fucking slow, it was like she felt every inch of it. She opened her mouth, maybe to protest, but she didn’t even know why.

He continued moving, slowly but relentlessly. Like winding around her every thought, every feeling and sensation. She wasn’t able to fully process it before the sensation deepened, wrapping around her like warmth curling through her veins. Beyond her head, beyond her mind. She gasped, the connection sparking like static between them.

“I-It’s too close,” she whispered, before thinking. She didn’t even know what she meant. She just knew he was way too close already. In a way he hadn’t quite been before. Hating that her thoughts suddenly jumped to almost opposite statements. Not close enough. Statements he immediately wrapped his mind around.

He had hovered, for a moment. Then, after a beat, he murmured, “Way too close.”

His mind sank into her the very next second, overwhelming her. She shivered, her body betraying her as her eyes fluttered shut, giving in to the strange sensation of his mind bleeding into hers and brushing her in the process. It was intoxicating and horrifying all at once, like drowning in something sweet and suffocating.

She couldn’t breathe. She literally drowned in him. She didn’t see. And she felt panic arise.

Until his touch on her cheek tethered her, pulling her back to reality. His palm was cradling her now, his thumb brushing her skin almost like a caress. He had slipped closer. He was right there, nose to nose. “You know this,” his voice whispered to her. “Relax. Let it happen.”

He was still there, hovering within her consciousness, but she could sense his own restraint. He wasn’t bluntly forcing it. No, this was something else – a quiet, unspoken exchange that felt far too intimate for their twisted dynamic. A pull that drew her closer, even though her rational mind screamed at her to run.

But she tried. To relax. Tried to take a mental breath. Loosening up her interior. The moment she did, he slid deeper, nestling against, inside and around her. Sensations and pictures flooded her instantly.

Him being close. Him almost leaning in. She saw it. She felt it. Inside and outside. This was way too intimate and she wanted to burst out crying. “Don’t,” she pleaded. Suddenly not grasping what was going on anymore.

She felt his hand on her cheek, felt his breath in her face. “I won’t touch you,” he reassured her. “I promise.”

She didn’t know if him leaning in was real. She knew he was capable of warping reality when he was in her head. She didn’t know if them huddling up the way she felt and somehow saw was actually happening. In the physical sense. She suspected not really.

It was still happening, of course. She felt it.

Felt him fondle her cheek, and it sent something twisting through her chest. Him leaning in so close she could feel him. There to both unravel and steady her.

She let that happen, too.

She let herself be guided into the sensation. Bliss and ruin, hate and hope. It was all the same and she knew that twisted reasoning to be his. Felt a touch of his madness that had been astonishingly closed off so far. How everything was mixed up in his brain in a most skewed and perverse way that still made so much sense to him.

She hadn’t time to ponder on that engrossing awareness as her mind was already growing heavy, and she almost hated the way the tension in her limbs started to melt away. Almost.

Sweet dreams, his voice whispered deeply threaded within her mind.

She couldn’t respond. She just noted how fascinated it was to her how easily she sank into the warmth, to let go of the constant exhaustion clawing at her every moment. She let herself fall into the deep ocean of sweet nothingness.

She just knew, it was a deep fall.

<>

Rose slowly surfaced from her slumber. Slow, and soft and warm.

She was aware of where she was and how she got here, but it felt way too cosy to worry about that.

Damn, his mental sleeping pill was darn effective. She knew he was also stimulating certain sleep centre parts in her brain, he told her as much. But there seemed to be more to it. Her perception of this feeling natural came back to her. She didn’t know what it meant, though.

She remembered that there were moments she felt him. Or thought she felt him. But she couldn’t grasp anymore what she had felt.

Only that it had been natural.

She eventually opened her eyes, sighing heavily. She heard him moving in the other room. A little sad that she slipped back into reality. Part of her wanted to turn around and just forget the situation she was in. Ignore it.

But he suddenly appeared around the corner. “Ah, perfect timing,” he stated. “Storm is over. Get up. We’re going back.”

And with that, he was gone again.

Rose sighed again. And wondered how long she could stay put until he got annoyed.

<>

The walk back to the TARDIS felt long. Rose was mostly in her thoughts, mourning her blissful sleep a little. But he didn’t engage either. Right now, she enjoyed the silence.

She finally recognised the ship. It looked like a small cabin, funnily enough. The Master stepped inside and she followed, closing the door behind her.

“Aw, don’t be mad,” he obviously talked to the ship. Rose indeed imagined to hear it groan a bit. “Everything worked out, see?”

Rose rolled her eyes in an almost fondly manner as she witnessed this little quarrel and she was surprised by her subtle smile. But to be honest, she had a soft spot for his TARDIS, and if she’ d had a say in this, Rose would always be on her side.

He took off, heading out of the room. “I’m going to the lab, see if I can make this plant more usable.”

Rose followed him to the floor. “What do I do?”

He stopped and turned around. Surprised and irritated, as if her question was absurd. “I don’t care what you do.”

After that, he continued walking.

Rose didn’t.

She was stunned for a moment. Not knowing what to do with herself.

Not for the first time, she wished herself away. She wished herself free and not trapped. And she wished he wouldn’t be so goddamn exhausting.

Chapter Text

Rose sat in the living room. Or the room she called the living room. It was the homey one with the couch, bookshelves and a fireplace. It seemed like the room was all open for her now, she could go there anytime, and honestly, she often did. It was nice and she could read there or watch TV. And somehow he was easier to ignore in this room.

He was here regularly. He was searching for books, or just hanging out or sometimes – like now – scanning her with a bulky device in his other hand. She heard the whistle of his screwdriver as she browsed through her book.

The whistling stopped. “Maybe this could work.”

“Oh, goody,” she commented absently.

“Oh my, one could think you don’t care about the fate of the universe.”

“I step in again when I’m actually needed.”

“Which is now.” He swiftly shut her book close that had been in her hands.

“Hey!” she complained. “Rude.”

“And you’re what, shocked?” He pointed to the door. “Get up. You need to connect to the Chronon-Anchor to test this.”

She rolled her eyes, but did as he said. In the control room, she walked to the Chronon-Anchor and watched him fiddling with the device he had, pulling something small out of it. She frowned as he walked over and offered her a ring. “Take it, put it on and make yourself ready to connect.”

He thrust it into her hand and was off again. Rose was confused, watching the green ring. The surface was smooth, it felt like glass. And inside, various shades of green were moving like a nebula. “This is beautiful,” she whispered surprised.

“Breathtaking,” he said drily, being on the console. “I said put it on.”

She slipped in on her finger. It fit perfectly. “Is Wolfshade in there?”

“Synthesised and adapted, but yes.” He came up to her, pointing at her hand. “Slide over the ring with your other hand. But careful,” he winked. “Might feel intense.”

Oh great, and she sure as hell wasn’t in any danger with this, now was she?

She still focused on the ring that she had put on her right hand. Her left thumb touched it – and moved over the surface from one side towards the other. Lightening it up where it has been as if she could unscrew this ring with this movement. She barely moved, maybe half a centimetre, but she already felt a known rush. So she instantly – intuitively – drove her thumb back. The light vanished.

“Woah,” flew out of her mouth.

“Seems to work perfectly,” he summarised pleased. “Now connect with the Chronon-Anchor and play with the settings of the ring. See how it feels.”

She blinked. “Connecting with it was already overwhelming without boosting me. You do remember you need me alive, yeah?”

“Oooh,” he faked concern and outrage, “killing you would be the furthest thing from my mind.”

“Git,” she sighed.

He grabbed her shoulders to turn her around and push her towards the Chronon-Anchor. “Just be a good little pet and do as I say.”

She shrugged his hands off her shoulders and was glad he let her. Then, her right hand touched the panel. And she felt its pull. Like all the lights went on. Like millions of particles started to move. “This is awesome,” she whispered absently.

“Use the ring.” His voice was clear. Yet calm.

She looked down and reached for the ring. Activating it slowly. A sound escaped her mouth, like a surprised gasp. It was more intense, like she suspected, but not overwhelming, like she feared. It was more vivid and tangible.

She had a feeling like she actually had influence on the lights. Like she could move them. Like she had control. So she tried. Patterns and movements started to change the way she wanted them to.

Experimentally, she moved her thumb further over the ring, increasing its boosting. And she instantly felt her view sharpen in a way she couldn’t explain. But she also started to feel tension that had an almost paralysing effect on her. One that actually made her tremble.

She moved her thumb completely back and stepped away from the panel, separating her from this experience. “Wow,” she let out, totally bedazzled. She was motionless as she processed what she had just felt.

“Well, well, somebody liked that taste of power,” his amused voice came through to her.

She blinked at him, standing there with his arms crossed. She didn’t know what to say for a moment. “Well, yeah,” she eventually sighed, no reason to lie about it. “It was nice for a change. But …” She raised her hand with the ring, observing it. “But it also just felt incredible. Like my senses were on high definition.”

She realised his slow steps only after he was with her, observing her with a curious look. She flinched under his stare. “What?”

“We are going to test this.”

She frowned, hating that he loved his idea, whatever it might be. “Test what?”

<>

The Master walked towards the door the moment the TARDIS landed.

“Wait!” she rushed after him and grabbed his arm before she could think better of it. “You can’t just throw me in there and expect me to do this!” She ignored his surprised look at her hand on his arm, accompanied by a hidden smirk. “You have to tell me more. On this abandoned space station out there are ruptures in time, yeah?”

“Like I already said, yes.”

“You expect the Wraiths to come, dontcha?”

His eyes sparkled in a way that told her he was having fun. “If they follow theirs instincts.”

He wanted to walk further, but Rose panicked and hastily slipped in front of him to stop him, the TARDIS door on her back. “Please, don’t do this. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing!”

“How else would you learn?” he cruelly beamed.

“I know you don’t want me dead, but I’m seriously questioning if you’re missing the mark right now. I can’t do this, don’t make me.”

He leaned forwards. “Sure you can,” he hissed, trying to reach out his hand to the knob past her.

“The Chronon-Anchor!” she desperately called out.

Now, he started to look annoyed. “What about it?”

“How can I fix whatever rupture without it?”

“It works without it, it’s just necessary in my case, because it’s more complex – being connected to the Time Matrix and all. But out there,” he pointed, “that has nothing to do with me. It’s just a playground for you.”

“Playground,” she spat, not believing what she was hearing. “Do you listen to yourself? I can’t-”

He shut her up by taking a step closer. On his lips a grin, his eyes all predatory. “Either you go out or I carry you out.” He cocked his head, driving it even a little closer in the process. “What’s it gonna be?”

Rose took a deep breath to steady herself. And to swallow her feelings of hate. “Another one of these ‘choices’ that aren’t one. Sure.” She turned around and used the door knob herself. Stomping outside. Into a floor out of metal, just as the walls.

The Master chuckled lightly as he followed and she heard him close to door. “Aah!” he made satisfied. “Nothing like the tingle of time gone wrong. Do you feel something?”

“I feel nothing,” she spat.

“Don’t be sulky,” he rebuked her amused, stepping in front of her. “This is good. This is an opportunity.”

“It’s a death trap.”

“Oh, lighten up, it’s not,” he sighed, rolling his head on his neck. “Come on, let’s walk.” He stepped ahead and she begrudgingly followed. “You can use your ring, you know,” he informed her. “Will make your perception better.”

She carefully touch it in thought, considering. Not expecting a giant crash abruptly convulse the whole hall, making them both fly forwards.

Rose crashed on the hard floor and tried unsuccessfully to catch her breath. Her arms and knees hurt and she was totally shocked and numb for a few seconds. So happy she was able to breathe again.

“Hey!” she heard his voice and he touched her shoulder. “You okay?”

“Never been better.” She tried to get on her knees. The light was even more dim now. “What just happened?” He only pointed behind her and when she turned around, she saw how the hall had collapsed. Must be her lucky day. “Son of a bitch.”

“Not a big deal. We just have to go back another way. It’s exciting, come on.”

“I seriously doubt you’re in the right mind set for this kind of mission,” she nagged, but got up.

“Can you stop complaining?”

“The day you set me free, I’ll stop,” she continued walking, having trouble seeing in the dark. “So – probably never.” She heard his faint snicker as she got caught on something and – again – crushed to the ground. “Fuck! This!” she cursed.

“You’re a real klutz, you know that?”

Apparently, he decided to use a flash lamp function on his screwdriver, but the second it fell on the spot Rose had tripped over, she shrieked in horror, jumping up, but was stopped by the Master, holding her. “It’s a corpse!” she yelped.

“I see that,” he answered drily, obviously scanning the body.

Rose took another deep breath. “This really isn’t my day.” His hand still lingered on her side, almost absently. She searched for his face, the harsh light accentuated his contours. He frowned. “What is it?” she asked.

“Something happened to his brain.”

Did she want to know? “What?”

“It’s only thirty percent of its supposed size.”

Sounded unhealthy. “Zombies?” she quipped.

He peered at her, grinning as if he partly bit it back. “There are creatures that eat your brain, you know.”

She almost had to smile. “I don’t doubt it,” she assured him.

Before either of them could say anything else, there was a noise, something clattered. Rose turned her head, but a few seconds of silence passed. “Is there somebody else?”

“The scans don’t show it.” He moved, finally letting her go in the process.

She decided to stay close to him. “Boy, am I glad you gave me that opportunity to learn,” she mumbled.

“The station is round, we just have to follow the hall and come eventually back to the TARDIS,” he stated. “But before that, we go hunting.”

“I hoped you might’ve forgotten.”

“Not a chance.”

Another creaking noise drove through the walls. It bristled under her skin and pierced marrow and bone. Holy crap , it felt wrong.

She just did what he wanted her to do the whole time. She touched her ring to juice herself up a little. The sensations were a rush, like always. But she felt it all the more – how wrong it was. “The Wraiths are already here,” she realised.

“Good.” He turned around to step closer to her. “You remember how it feels when it aligns?”

She nodded.

“That’s fixing ruptures. Try it.”

She hated him. But she needed to try. So she focused on this feeling, chased after it. Searched after the light to form it. Direct it. Build a net that sewed together the fissures in time. Until the surface was smooth. And balanced.

There was a pause in her mind of absolute silence.

Then, she opened her eyes. Only realising him observing her a second later. The thumb still on her ring moved back. The light went out.

“I think Bad Wolf might be my new favourite toy,” he drawled in a way that made her skin crawl.

She swallowed. “Did it work?”

“For this particular rupture, yes.” He turned to walk on. “Move. We’re not done.”

Rose moved. But she felt off. Bad Wolf, telepathy, all that always made her dizzy. It was like she was walking through cotton wool. Somehow unreal. “Don’t be so fast,” she complained and she heard her own words slur a little.

He instantly turned around and she walked straight into him. His hands were on her head in a blur and he probed her the way he did once before. “Stop that!” she tried to step back at the sudden intrusion, pushing against him, but he wouldn’t let her, grabbing the back of her neck to prevent her to flee.

“Don’t move, I’m not even invading.”

She had her hands still pressed against his chest, wanting distance, but also grudgingly frozen. It wasn’t really invading, that was true. But it was still crossing boundaries. It felt like he was groping her, his mental touch rippling along her surface.

Until his hands fell. “Just checking if you’re damaged, but you seem fine.” With that, he went out of her personal space to move on.

“You could have just asked!” She followed him.

“Oh, please,” he dismissed that. “Your perception of yourself is rudimentary at best.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the point! Oh my God, there are more bodies …” The Master’s flash lamp revealed them. They both had stopped. As she saw him scan it, she asked, “Their brains also shrunk?”

“They’re not shrunk, they are missing parts.”

“So, eaten it is.”

“It’s a more fitting description, honestly.”

“What the hell happened …” she started, but then, suddenly, she felt something. Something huge. Like a rupture swallowing them whole. She heard and saw the wall on the floor ahead of them being ripped open. Revealing deep, black space. She just felt the massive pull that sucked her out. Feeling herself burn up from the inside and freeze from the outside.

Pain. Agony.

Until she was gone.

<>

Rose crashed on the metal floor, pain in her hands and knees. Behind her, something had crushed.

She was so bloody disoriented. She looked around, seeing the space station. The one she just remembered being sucked out from into space. She sat back on her feet and looked around, seeing the corridor behind her being collapsed. Just like it did shortly after they came aboard.

“Hey,” the Master said, touching her chin to turn it back to him, he crouched down in front of her. “You okay?”

“What happened?” she whispered.

His hand fell from her chin. “Not entirely sure myself.”

“Am I just imagining this or have we been here before?”

He nodded. “Yeah, we’re thrown back in time. It might be a time loop.”

Rose wasn’t going to lie, she wasn’t sure she had processed what happened. She blinked at him. “We died.”

He missed a beat. “Yeah.”

Holy crap.

“We died and the only reason we’re not dead is that we were lucky we got caught up in a time loop?!” her voice got firmer, out of anger, but also out of panic and mental overload.

“Not sure it was luck, we have to find out. We’re going there again and are a bit more attentive this time.”

Something in her snapped. “I told you I’m not ready for this!” she shoved her hands against his torso. “I told you that, you arsehole!” In her enraged mind, she tried to shove him again, but he caught her wrists.

“If you’re not ready for this, then you’re not ready for our remaining plans and then you’re useless,” he hissed.

“Maybe I am,” she countered, almost screaming her words, trying to struggle, but he held her firmly. “Maybe I’m just as useless as you always make me out to be!”

“Rose,” he said gravely, his grip tightening. “Calm down.”

A laugh bubbled up in her throat, barely making it out. “Why do I always have to be calm and collected and you’re allowed to throw tantrums?”

His face didn’t twitch, his stare was unmoving, his eyes serious and intense. After a moment of silence, he added, “I don’t think you’re useless, otherwise you wouldn’t be here. That much should be obvious. I need you to listen to me now.”

After a heartbeat, she breathed out her tension, trying to be calm and collected, even though she didn’t want to be. “Like always – I don’t have a choice,” she whispered. “So what do we do?”

<>

Rose just switched off her ring after fixing that first rupture – again.

“Good,” he said almost quietly.

She had asked if they couldn’t just run through the halls, getting through before the walls were ripped open. But he had said that they would never make it to the TARDIS in time. She pointed ahead. “Around the next corner, it happens.”

He stepped carefully closer. “We are going to find out now what happened. I am scanning and sensing and you will activate your ring now, as we step forward.”

Her heart started pounding again. “We are going to die again, aren’t we?”

He blinked once. “Yes.” That word was terrifying. “This round we’re just collecting information.”

Her breath shuddered, and when she reached for her ring, she felt her hands tremble. “Then let’s go,” she murmured, making her ring shine. She saw it in his face that her eyes also lit up, throwing light against his features. He nodded and they stepped forwards.

She felt something. Like she already saw it form afar. The fissure building and getting damn strong. Overthrowing them, swallowing them, unstoppable.

Rose gasped and trembled even more. This was not better. She saw their impending death. She remembered how it felt. How futile and pointless and painful.

She didn’t expect his hands enveloping her cheeks. “Hey,” he tried to catch her attention, summoning this ‘calm and collected’ attitude she blamed him of not having. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Her lips quivered. “I remember it,” she whispered, simply spilling her guts. “I’m afraid.”

He draw even closer, his hold on her tightened. She felt his breath, smelled his scent and everything wrapped around her like a protective shield that made her shiver. “You won’t die,” he promised in a fierce whisper. “Make sure you sense what is happening and we’ll make it out of here.”

She felt a tear running down her cheek, but she tried. Tried to sense the wave erupting time. And the creature that tried to fix it. She didn’t even think about it, moments before the wall ripped open, she just clutched the Master’s sides to hold on to something.

<>

And again , she crushed to her hands and knees. “Bloody hell,” she growled and already heard his steps. She quickly got up. “I’m fine,” she defensively put up her arms.

He stopped. “Do you know what happened?”

As a matter of fact, she believed she did. “The Wraith made the time loop, didn’t it? To contain the rupture?”

He nodded. “Exactly. We are going to fix the rupture before it happens, so the Wraith doesn’t need to ‘fix’ it.”

“Yeah, but when you say ‘we’, you mean ‘me’ and this rupture was gigantic. I don’t know how to fix that. It feels like a wave carrying me away.”

He lastly took that step closer to her. “When I say ‘we’, I mean ‘we’,” he stated. “We connect, we put the ring on full power.”

“You’re absolutely bonkers,” she mumbled helplessly, glancing down.

“Come on, Rose,” he prompted her and went ahead.

She tried to stay calm. Tried to push down her anxiety when they finally got to the point where everything would be happening again. He stood opposite to her. “That feeling of dying burnt into my soul,” she shuddered.

He just shrugged. “You get used to it.”

She huffed. “Right. You know that feeling.” She searched his eyes. “Isn’t that horrible?”

He let his eyes rest on her. “It’s not fun.”

No, she imagined it wasn’t.

“Ready?” he asked and she nodded. And felt his hands on her temple and him slipping inside. He wasn’t rough, but not gentle either, trying to get himself settled quickly and she gasped at the slight pressure in her head. “Use the ring,” she heard his voice outside and inside her head. “Activate it completely.”

She did. The moment she turned it on to the full extent, the rush was tremendous. She never had it on the highest level. She felt everything like she never did before, like she could see the fabric of time itself, not understanding it. And she felt him, he was anchored in her in a way she hadn’t words for. She felt like she was about to explode.

“Hey, hey,” he pulled her back mentally, and also her physical head that had snapped back. He pulled it close, touching her forehead with his. “I’ve got you. Feel me anchoring you.”

That’s what it felt like. Him being steady in a storm. Right now, she’d take it. She held onto him, mentally, but maybe her hands had landed on his cheeks as well, she couldn’t really tell. She just felt like she could fall back on him, one hand figuratively tied to him, while the rest of her could spread into space. Welcoming the wave running towards them. Summoning the blanket of lights in her wake. Catching the wave as it crashed onto them.

Maybe she screamed. It felt like it rushed through her body and almost ripped her open. Like she caught it with borrowed power and shrivelled in the background.

When it all fell away and she came back into the hall, she didn’t know what happened. She felt burned out. And lost all her strength. She collapsed.

He caught her, one arm around her shoulders and one under her knee pits, lifting her up.

“Did it work?” she asked, only slowly coming back, no idea if she had been out. Or how long.

“It worked.”

He walked, carrying her. Probably along the hall that didn’t rip open this time round. Part of her wanted to protest that she could walk on her own, but who was she kidding, she couldn’t even talk properly. “I’m dizzy,” she sighed.

“Should be better in a moment.”

“Can’t wait,” she mumbled.

She never thought that walking into his TARDIS would make her feel so relieved. Almost happy.

He carefully put her down on her feet, still steadying her and she hated that she still needed it. He held her sides, she his upper arms. Taking a breath, feeling better, but not good. She stared into nothingness. “You’re a bastard.”

“You can’t say you haven’t learned anything today.”

Now, she looked at him. “How can it be you really don’t understand that-ah!” One hand flew to her head. A quick pain shot in there, only to come back and bore itself into her skull. She screamed and sank to her knees.

“Rose?!”

“It hurts!” she yelled, but the searing pain made her eyes roll into her skull and everything turned white before she lost her consciousness for good.

Chapter Text

Rose woke up to dull noises. Everything was muffled. Hollow.

She lay on a hard surface, trying to roll around. Groaning in the process.

She felt like she had been run over by a bus shortly after running a marathon.

Rose’s mind swam in and out, slow and sluggish, like she was trying to think through cotton. Her lids fluttered open, but even that felt strange, like the motion didn’t fully belong to her.

The last thing she remembered made her stomach twist. They had escaped the rifts and the time loops from the Wraiths, yes. But they had only been in this situation, because the Master had thrown her straight into the fire. Forcing her hand, forcing her to use Bad Wolf.

He said that she would be fine.

But she just remembered the pain.

And now …

She tried to move, but the action barely registered. Her body felt weighted down, her mind struggling to connect to it. The room around her was blurred at the edges, shapes too sharp and too soft at the same time, as if reality itself couldn’t decide how to hold together.

The TARDIS. She was still in the TARDIS. On the floor of the control room.

She forced her hands to move, pushing herself upright. It was a struggle, like her limbs didn’t want to obey. Everything ached, but not in the normal way – not in a way that felt like flesh and bone. This was deeper. More wrong. Something was so far from right, it couldn’t be seen with spyglasses.

She swallowed hard, rubbing at her temples, trying to push away the cottony haze clogging her thoughts.

Where was the Master?

Not that she wanted to see his bloody face, but something was majorly off here.

She managed to get on her hands and knees and tried to look around. She felt like she was on drugs. The details were almost right, but … not. The walls seemed to shift when she wasn’t looking directly at them. The light didn’t cast proper shadows.

A creeping sense of dread curled in her stomach and she felt her pulse speed up in panic.

That’s when she heard a sound. Muffled, distant, like it was coming from behind a thick pane of glass. A voice.

She knew that voice.

Her breath hitched as she strained to make out the words, but they slipped through her grasp, warping and fading before she could hold onto them. The tone, though – that she recognized. Low, sharp, edged with a form of urgency. The Master. She was both disgusted and relieved when she heard him.

Where was he?

Rose tried to turn her head, but she still felt sluggish, heavy. Her whole body felt strange, like she wasn’t fully inside it, like something was keeping her separate from herself. The distant voice came again, a little clearer this time, but she still couldn’t make out the words.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the fog to clear.

The TARDIS lights flickered – she could feel it more than she could see it, a strange sensation at the edges of her awareness. The hum of the ship was there, but it wasn’t right. It pulsed, unsteady, like a heartbeat out of sync.

The Master’s voice cut through again – closer now, still distorted, but she thought she heard her name.

She pushed herself up, her muscles resisting, her limbs trembling.

“Master?” she tried to say, but the word barely came out, just a whisper lost in the strange, warped space she was stuck in.

“Rose,” the voice crackled again. Definitely her name. And she realised it came from the console. She moved with a heavy groan, stumbling towards the noise.

“Master,” she sighed.

“Thank God you’re finally answering.”

She understood nothing. “Are you not on the ship anymore?”

“Rose. Listen very carefully to me.”

She let herself sink onto the console, she wanted to go to sleep again. “Can you talk louder?” she mumbled.

“Rose, don’t sleep,” he said so loud she actually flinched.

“Blimey, you don’t have to yell.”

“Rose,” he tried again.

“Where are you?” Seriously, having a clear thought was exhausting.

“On the TARDIS,” he answered. “Right next to your body, actually.”

Her eyes widened. She looked around, trying to connect the information she was getting. “What is happening to me?” Her voice was weak, afraid of the answer.

“You’re trapped in your own mind.”

<>

She didn’t know how long she needed to process it and she needed even longer to react. And then – she chuckled.

Her lids fell shut and she felt the laugh in her chest.

“Rose,” he stated with obvious annoyance.

Her forehead leaned on the cold surface of the panel. “Can I just say that hate is not a strong enough word for the feelings I have towards you?”

“Don’t sweet-talk to me, pet,” he quipped.

“Are you in my mind?” she ignored him, her brain just jumping to the next topic.

“Yes.”

Figured.

“So what?” she snapped. “Bad Wolf is a bit too dangerous for me and trapped me in my own mind? Guess I wasn’t ready for it and am useless after all. You know what? Why dontcha let me just here?” She turned around and sank to the floor, her face buried in her hands.

There was an actual pause, before he continued. “This isn’t because of Bad Wolf.”

She frowned. “It isn’t?”

“No.”

“What’s it then?”

She heard his sigh. “A parasite.”

Her eyes grew. “A what?!”

“Yeah,” he drawled. “You remember the people on that ship?”

Her heart sank to her boots. “Is my brain gonna get eaten by a parasite?” she whined in horror. That he didn’t immediately answer, made her laugh again. Or cry, she wasn’t sure.

“Rose you gotta listen to me. Do you remember the last thing that happened before you fell unconscious?”

Again, a hysterical laugh broke out of her mouth. Her brain would be eaten and she would slowly forget everything that was her. What a perfect ending to her pathetic last months.

“Jesus, girl, is your brain already mush?”

“Probably,” she chuckled and wiped her eyes. There were actually tears. Why were there tears if this wasn’t real? “Where did these parasites come from?”

Another sigh. “It’s a not unheard of side effect of the Wraiths. Not common, but not totally rare either. The parasites feed on the memories in your brain.”

She nodded, feeling weirdly detached.

“So tell me what you remember.”

“You carried me.” She wondered about her own sentence. It was funny to her that these were the words that came out of her mouth. She could have said that she had felt weak or how they got into the TARDIS.

“I did,” he affirmed. “Anything after that?”

“We got into the TARDIS … a-and … I think we did, didn’t we?”

“Yes.”

Tears sprang into her eyes. “I’m not sure I remember.”

“That’s okay, that’s good. It barely scratched your memories yet.”

“Yeah, I feel real good,” she sniffed drily.

“You have to open up to me.”

She blinked at his words. They seem so wrong for so many different reasons. “Which means?”

“There’s a blockade. I can get you out of there, I can fix it. But only if you take a step towards me.”

Another pause. Followed by another hysterical laugh. “You’re a giant arsehole, you know that?” she snapped, her laughter suddenly replaced by anger. “You pushed me into this, this is all your fault! You don’t care about me, I mean that’s obvious, but you push and press and shove me over the limits of what I can take and expect me to take a step towards you?”

She could feel him being dumbstruck. “Rose, this was only figuratively sp-”

“You know what?” she cut him short. “Maybe I welcome this. Maybe this is the peace I’m looking for.”

She realised she felt him being stunned again. And she couldn’t help it, she felt triumph. He could feel that she meant it.

“Are you serious?” he finally voiced his perplexed state.

“You can feel that very well,” she countered.

Something happened. Her surroundings flickered, everything blurred and she clutched her head and screwed her eyes shut. It was like something pressed into her. Made her unstable and overwhelmed. But tried to tether her at the same time.

When she suddenly felt hands around her wrists, she jerked away. Not expecting to see him right in front of her. She pulled back. “Don’t touch me!”

“I don’t think you realise what’s at stake here,” he scolded, squatting in front of her, but leaving his hands to himself.

“I understand that very well, thank you,” she snapped. “Maybe I just can’t do this anymore.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Why is it so hard for you to grasp?” she wondered. “Do you realise how I’m hanging by a thread here? I mean, do you understand that? What does it matter which darkness swallows me, if it’s yours or the one of this parasite!”

“You’d risk the universe for this?” he argued, challenging her.

“I have a petty side,” she snapped stubbornly. “You should know, you forced yourself in my mind before.”

She saw his fists tightening, tension in his arms and his face, his lids twitched. And she felt it. Felt him trying to read her, but realising she wasn’t bluffing. “It’s nothing personal,” he told her.

Her look fell down with a huff. “My arse,” she mumbled. Everything was personal. Him plunging into the depth in her mind where he had no business being in. Him having fun torturing not only her, but also the Doctor with this. Yes, there was the problem he had which Bad Wolf could solve, but he made everything personal. And she felt it being personal. On a level she couldn’t quite grasp. But there was always … something. Something that slid deeper than it should. “You know what?” Her head snapped up. “Let’s make it personal. Why do you want me to come back with you?”

He frowned and the room around her shook, he was slipping away for a moment, like flickering out of existence. And something squirmed through her head in a way that made her restless. She jumped up on her feet, groaning.

Again, a hand enclosed her wrist and it was like he pulled himself close again so he wouldn’t slip away. “You know very well why,” he hissed impatiently. “Bad Wolf can fix this and I won’t let you do this rebellious martyr trip or whatever the hell this is supposed to be.”

“Well, looks like this is my choice after all,” she hissed back. “So tell me why.” Was she manipulating him? Trying to force him to see her as more than an object? Or was she chasing after something she felt over the many times they connected? Ultimately, it didn’t matter. “Not why the Time Lord wants its tool, but why do you, the Master, want me, Rose Tyler? Why?”

He flinched, there was something wild behind his eyes, but it was controlled. “I just …” he flinched again, ever so slightly, “do.”

It could have sounded dismissive, but it sounded … different. Like it was just a fact.

The constant flickering of everything, the pressure in her head, it all wore her down. “You have to do better than that.”

He looked funny, as if he didn’t know what to do with her. She could barely think straight. And she felt her legs give in again. She stumbled back and threatened to glide to the ground again. He still held her and already stepped forwards, but she wouldn’t have it and yanked her wrist out of his hands. “I don’t want your help,” she stopped him and slid to the ground on her own.

“Why not?” he murmured. “You’ll die.”

“Because you don’t answer me.” She didn’t care if she sounded like a child. Something about this made her thread of patience snap and she was too far gone to care.

For a moment she thought he’d let her. She felt her senses dull even further before she saw him also on the ground right in front of her. His eyes pierced her. She felt something shift in him, something determined. “You say I dipped into your private thoughts and that’s true. But you find your way into my inner thoughts as well. You broke so effortlessly through my defences without even realising it.” Rose didn’t expect those words at all, also not their impact on her. She asked for this and now didn’t know what do to with it, utterly shocked. He didn’t break eye contact. “And you do it again and again, in a way I didn’t think you could.” He stretched out his hand, offering. “Come back to me, Rose. I think I still need that.”

Honestly, Rose wasn’t sure she could do anything. She was paralysed, not sure whether it was the parasite or his completely unexpected words. Probably both. But she felt she needed to decide now, her time was running out. And for better or worse – she leaned forwards to take his hand.

She felt the TARDIS wash away and a pull from him, dragging her back into reality. Doing something to her in the process. Pulling something out of her brain. She gave herself into his hands, she had no strength for anything else.

He was probing her thoroughly and rigorously, slipping into all levels of her mind, skimming her open like a book. For once, she simply let him. Yeah, she had no power left, but she also knew he did it to get rid of her uninvited guest. Him examining every inch of her – was kind of the point.

It felt like a weight lifted from her piece by piece. And she slowly came around.

When she opened her eyes, they felt like they hadn’t been open for days. He was the one greeting her. Right in front of her, his hands still on her temples. She blinked a few times to get fully back and realised she lay on her back.

He eventually separated his fingers from her skin and leaned back, even standing up. A quick look around told her that she was in her bed. She tried to sit up, but dizziness clouded her head. Fortunately, only for a second.

“Take it easy,” he advised her.

“Is it gone?” she wanted to know.

“All parasite-free.”

She looked at him. Trying to read him, but he was so damn neutral. Part of her wondered if all that had even been real. Another part wanted to ask him about his words. She didn’t even know. If she fell for a manipulation of his. He would have known what words would have an impact on her, wouldn’t he?

“You okay?” he asked after a while. It too had something casual.

Seriously, she didn’t know anymore. “I guess,” she said meekly.

“Good. Get some rest.”

With that, he turned and left her room. Leaving her ponder about herself for the time being.

<>

Rose felt like her mind needed ages to process and assess what happened. And even after she felt things had settled a bit more, she still wasn’t sure. It partly felt like what happened – was important. And in other ways it felt like nothing had changed at all.

Rose felt like she was losing her grip on reality. Not like you would expect what insanity felt like. But more like that she couldn’t evaluate what happened around her anymore. Like she didn’t know if it held any meaning.

She stayed in her room after the Master had left her. She tried to sleep a little. And she did. But she also felt something in her head. A dull ache that felt terrifyingly familiar. She was so glad that when she asked the TARDIS about his whereabouts, she instantly answered with the word ‘laboratory’ appearing on a screen on the wall.

<>

Rose walked out of her room. She noticed the TARDIS being more on the dim side right now. As if she was resting.

It wasn’t long before she saw a door. A new door, one she hadn’t seen before.

She never was in this TARDIS’ lab before and she felt herself getting slightly nervous. Mostly, the Master was only annoyed when the TARDIS gave her access to other rooms, but didn’t really let it out on her. Not lately, at least. And mostly, Rose wasn’t actively searching for him. The meetings with him were always hazardous.

She went ahead before she could talk herself out of it.

The door revealed a laboratory, like expected. It was big, but not huge. There was lots of weird looking stuff standing around and the Master was right in the middle of it. He was switching between looking through something that seemed like a microscope and a computer screen he typed in something. He didn’t acknowledge her, but she was pretty sure he was aware.

Rose moved, walking closer on a path between bizarre objects.

His head switched to the microscope-alike again. “The TARDIS better have a good reason.” The words were indifferent.

She forced her hands not to fiddle. “I know you probably think it doesn’t make a difference, but I wanted to make sure that my brain really isn’t damaged in any way.”

“It’s fine, it’s all gone and it’s really nothing you should worry about.” He switched again to the screen, tipping something.

“I …” she hesitated, “I feel a dull ache in my head.”

She heard him sigh and he actually sat down on the chair behind him, leaning back, watching her.

She didn’t even think, she sat down on a second chair that stood there. She hated being vulnerable with him. “It feels like that muscle ache thing,” she elaborated. “When you disrupted my mental pathways.”

She didn’t know why he mustered her the way he did. “Could be,” he said. “I kept an eye on it while sorting it out, but there could be after-effects. It’s not uncommon.”

She missed a beat, observing him. “So you can fix it?”

“I can.”

She frowned. “And will you?”

“Well … it’s not been a week,” he pointed out. “I’m gonna need your okay for this.”

Oh.

Her look fell down to her lap. “That’s funny. When we look at the whole space station situation, you got in a few times already without asking.”

“I thought if it involves saving your life, it should be fine.”

“Yeah, only you were the one endangering it in the first place, in case you’ve forgotten.” She looked up to see his eye-rolling sigh.

“Fine, whatever, then I just won’t help.”

He wanted to get up, when she heard herself say, “Does it bother you that I can sense you when when you go in my head?”

He froze mid-movement, his hands propped on the armrest, half stood up. “What?”

“I mean, of course it bothers you,” she simply continued, “but what did you mean by you need it?”

After a heartbeat – he started to chuckle, slowly and very low. His eyes lit with a challenge. He leaned back into his chair. “I really don’t need you picking up on things,” he said coldly. “I needed you to come back.” He tilted his head. “I’d say for obvious reasons.”

She felt his catty look under her skin and felt so frustrated. Hating that she felt that way in the first place. “I felt you saying the truth,” she disagreed with his insinuation, but barely got the words out with a steady voice.

“Oh, I was,” he answered, but it was dismissive. “But I believe you misinterpreted my words back there.” His growing grin was derisive.

Rose hated the way this was going. “You’re taken aback when I pick up on things, I felt that again and again.”

“Oh, that much is true,” he granted. “You shouldn’t. I guess Bad Wolf has something to do with that. But it’s nothing more than an inconvenience.” He stood up on his feet at last. “Now get up. To your room or wherever.”

She stayed put, getting a little scared. “What about my head?”

“I see to it in about a week,” he quipped, his tone dry and nasty.

She only registered that he walked away a second later. She jumped up, running after him. “Don’t,” she pleaded, stopping in front of him. “Don’t do this. Let go of your control thing just once and help me out with a problem you caused.”

“As far as I remember, you don’t like me in your head. I’m just respecting your boundaries,” he refused her plea with a smile that was revolting to her.

She couldn’t believe it. She let out a bewildered laugh, but rather wanted to cry, while feeling something inside of her breaking down. “You’re despicable.”

He grabbed her arm to lead her out of the lab. “You say it like it is surprising to you.” When they were outside, the door behind them fell shut and he turned her his way, but part of her already checked out. “I already told you that you don’t have the upper hand so stop trying to get it.”

She just glanced at him with unshed tears of anger. She wanted to scream at him, but everything felt … pointless.

He walked away from her and she stayed on that floor for a long time.

<>

Rose wanted to go to her room at some point, but then changed her mind. The one room she felt somewhat sheltered, even though it wasn’t real, of course, was the living room. So she went there.

She nestled into the corner of the couch, pulling her knees close and winding her arms around them. She leaned her head forwards. Her face half buried into her knees.

The room was dark and she wanted it to be. She wanted to disappear. And wondered why she had come back from that stupid parasite.

She felt her heart so heavy, it hurt. She felt the dull ache of her head that strained her strength. Made her feel sick and beaten. And suddenly – a heavy sob escaped her. Her lids pressed close in a desperate attempt to hold back tears, but it didn’t matter. They came out like a flood, her body trembled like an earth quake. And it only got worse every minute that passed. She didn’t remember when she had last cried like this. Like the world was crashing down, killing everything. This was pure desperation. Pure hopelessness. Right now, it felt like she was done fighting.

At first, she couldn’t identify that her head was lifted. She, very slowly, recognised the Master’s hands on her jaw, his face right in front of her. She should have been startled, but she apparently was too tired and too detached for it to have an impact.

His hands slid up to her temple and she felt it the second he slipped in. She took a sharp breath, but she felt him being attentive, if determined. Stroking over the strings of her mind to smooth out everything that was wrong and out of order.

A silent moan escaped her the moment she felt the tension and ache lift and she felt so relieved. She took a deep, long breath, one he unexpectedly mirrored while drawing her closer. Only now she registered the situation she was in. He kneeled in front of her on the couch, his body between her legs. Holding her close as his last mental strokes over her mental fabric made her feel held and … snug. There was that sensation of feeling safe which was so wrong and yet so real.

He slowly retreaded, so soft, it made her miss his touch.

His mental one at least. His physical was still there, cradling her cheeks, no apparent intention to let go. Like there was a spell between them. She felt his breath, his unwavering eyes stared at her. She smelled his scent that was more familiar than she wanted to admit. His hands moved. His fingers wiped her tears from her skin, one hand wandered and stroke over her hair, ending up on her neck right behind her ear. Rose opened her mouth as the sensation of goosebumps down her neck overwhelmed her. Was she a minute ago almost numb, she now felt everything. His touch. His closeness. His way of reaching out to her.

So many questions of why and why now and how could you were running through her head. But she needed him to hear another thought. “You’ve been such an arsehole,” she murmured, still hurt.

Again, his thumb moved over her cheek in something that couldn’t be described as anything other than a caress. Her lids threatened to flutter close, hating this, but not caring at the same time.

“I know,” he acknowledged her words. “I am sometimes.”

How could his eyes be so piercing when it was this dark in the room? Her lips quivered in an attempt to speak, new tears spilled down her cheeks. She felt herself crumble right in front of him. “I can’t do this anymore,” she whispered. Pleading, begging and worn out.

“I know,” he repeated. His thumbs continued to brush her new tears away, his fingers in her hair and on her neck offered comfort she didn’t want and still needed.

She accepted it right now. Searching his face. “Can you just stop?”

A subtle grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Being an arsehole?” he quipped.

“Yes.”

“Probably not.”

She huffed and looked down, but this quick banter had still loosened some of her tension. She stared down, barely seeing anything because of the darkness. Still feeling his hands, his touches, his tender and continuos movements that felt so foreign. Sending shivers through her she could barely hold back. And every time her body reacted, he did it again, lulling her in something that felt better than it should. She should reach for his hands to put them away. But she wouldn’t know what to do after that. “I must seem very pathetic if you decided to have mercy on me after all,” she mumbled after a while.

After a pause, his left hand wandered to her chin, sliding along her jaw to get there. And carefully leading up her chin so she looked at him – the way he sometimes did. “Yes, very pathetic,” he confirmed with a wink.

A strangled laugh escaped her and she shook her head lightly. “Careful, one could mistake your action for empathy.”

“And we wouldn’t want that, would we?” he still kept this easy atmosphere going.

“No,” she murmured slowly. “We wouldn’t.” In the end, she didn’t know why he did it. She didn’t really think he cared. He cared for keeping her somewhat happy, where the term ‘happy’ was highly exaggerated. But it still was a way in for her. A door he left ajar. And she would use it, she needed to use it. Or she would perish. “You’ve done your job, you know,” she continued after a while. “You can leave now.”

He didn’t budge. “You sure?”

Rose was confused. She wasn’t certain what he meant by that. What he wanted to know. If she was stable? If she wanted him to leave? “I’m sure,” she still said.

He observed her a little while longer before he nodded. And finally let go of her face. Which felt both freeing and like she was already missing it. He moved on the couch, carefully shifting away and eventually standing up. Rose pulled her knees back to her body, like she was shielding herself again. He watched her another moment, before he finally left the room.

Chapter Text

Rose had slept there that night. And also stayed there for a while longer. Keeping herself entertained with books and the TV – very welcomed distractions from her current life. Escaping the many challenges that she was faced with. It helped her calm down. So that she came to a somewhat manageable stress level.

Sometimes, she had to go to the kitchen to eat, and she very reluctantly did so. She didn’t want to destroy her illusion of a lazy vacation.

Her stomach already growled again when she decided to get something. Not expecting the Master to be in the kitchen when she entered.

She instantly stopped. Watching another thing she had tried to escape from.

She hadn’t seen him since that evening, but now he sat on a chair, his legs stretched out on another, eating some chocolate and watching his screwdriver. “I thought you’d never leave that room,” he commented without looking up.

Rose collected herself, then walked to the counter to make herself a sandwich. “I was out before,” she said casually. “Have to eat, don’t I?”

“I guess.”

She pondered if she should sit down to him on the table to eat her meal she was preparing right now. Part of her wanted to go back to the living room, but she had to talk to him at some point, didn’t she? So, after she was done, she took a deep but silent breath, turned around and sat down with her sandwich opposite to him. Her eyes rested on him, her hands lay on the table. He tinkered with his screwdriver, totally focused on that. And she had to admit, she was a bit confused about how to proceed.

Should she ask about what their next step was? If he planned to shove her into the next scenario? If she had to train Bad Wolf more? Or should she ask about that night? But really, what was there to ask? Why he had changed his mind?

Before she decided, he let his screwdriver sink and looked back at her, his eyes clear. And observant. “So, you’re okay?” he eventually asked, scanning her. “No more apparent side effects?”

“Of the parasite or you?” she answered before she thought about it. Not sure if it was clever.

A smile lit up, but it was more subtle than she was used from him and there was something calculating in his eyes. He missed a beat. “Whatever, I suppose.”

Suddenly, she felt a bit uncomfortable under his stare. “I feel fine for now.”

“Good.”

He still stared. And she recognised something expectant about it. She sighed as she understood. “Don’t fret, I know we should continue working.”

At that, he lay his arm on the table, thoughtfully observing his fingers for a short time. “We should.”

Figured. “You haven’t broken me yet,” she assured him and finally took the sandwich in her hands to eat it. “Not for lack of trying, tho’.” She just took a bite, not looking at him. Maybe because she wasn’t sure if she should have said it. She wanted to, but never knew exactly how he’d react. All the more was she confused when she was met with silence. She decided to glance up again. He still seemed in thought. About what exactly – she had no idea.

She pondered about how far she should go with the questions running through her head. She always did, trying to be strategic about it, because he, especially in the beginning, often outright ignored her. Or when she had asked, particularly about telepathy, answered in a way that gave her way more questions than answers. But fact was that she barely knew what was happening with her. Or between them.

She swallowed her bit, her hands sank. “Why did you decide to help me with these mental pathways after all?” she voiced quietly.

He didn’t look up. “I always intended to sort that out.”

And that was one aspect of talking to him that was exhausting. He danced around the subject sometimes. “Yeah, but you wanted to let me stew for a few days first.” She hesitated, but eventually added, “Why didn’t you?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he countered, but it lacked its usual sharpness. “I already said I need you intact. I need this to go forward.”

Made sense. She knew that much and it didn’t surprise her. But why did it feel – for the first time – like there were more aspects to it?

She didn’t know what she expected or hoped. That he was not only a monster? That he was capable of feeling something like sympathy? Maybe it would make her feel better in her captivity, but ultimately, it would still be an illusion, wouldn’t it?

And she knew that to be true, that nothing would change the position she was in. And still, she also knew that there were things piling up that neither of them would talk about. And to be honest, she wanted that box to stay closed, probably just as much as he did.

“Then please keep that in mind from now on,” she still added, dead-serious. Apparently enough to make him finally look up. “Don’t push me to my limits the way you did, because I really might not care anymore about the one thing you lure me with – the safety of the universe.”

He stared for a moment, then there was a grin growing ever so lightly. It was doubting, but also unsure, as if he didn’t believe her and believed her at the same time. “You’d always care about that.”

She used his uncertainty to muster her own certainty. Knowing he had felt it before. “Try me.”

Her words were cold and effective. And he knew it. So he let them sink in for a moment, before sighing, “Alright.” He got on his feet. “So when you are still caring about the universe – come to the control room, when you’re done eating.”

She didn’t look after him when he left the room. Glad she apparently got her point across.

<>

When Rose was on her way to the control room, she briefly debated if she was on the right track, if she needed to say more or if she had missed discussing something. She had to walk a fine line the whole time without a safety net and already had barely caught herself a few times after falling.

But right now – it felt okay. Whatever that meant. She’d just push through it, because she had no other choice.

She walked into the room, seeing him on the console. “So what?” she sighed. “What’s the next step you pictured in your head?”

He stepped away from the computer to come closer, his hands folded behind his back. “What would you think is the next step?”

His sentence was not as mocking as she would have suspected. It was still like he knew the answer, but actually planned to take her feelings into consideration. But, ultimately, it amounted to the same thing. She took a breath, uncomfortable with her next words. “Fixing the ruptures connected to you.”

He cocked his head, his eyes sparkled with something satisfied. He probably couldn’t help himself. “Exactly.”

Her hands rubbed her face in an attempt to sober herself. “Alright,” she sighed, letting her arms fall. “If I understood correctly, the Wraiths would attack far more often if you hadn’t the Chronon-Anchor.”

“That’s right. I can use it to erect a shield. It’s not perfect, but it helps. It sometimes breaks, I’m sure you remember. But it doesn’t just shield us from the Wraiths, it also shields our access to the whole process.”

She let that sink in. “So we put down the shield?”

“Yes.”

Rose took another breath, remembering the space station, feeling the looming weight on her shoulders. She wasn’t sure how to handle this and was pulled out of her thoughts as he stepped closer. “The best way to practise this is to do it,” he empathised calmly.

Part of her wanted to back off, escaping the tension she felt every time he got close. But she didn’t. “It’s like asking me to drive before I got the driving licence.”

He obviously thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. “Going along with this analogy – that’s the driving school.” He delicately blinked. “You’re not alone. I’ve got a hand on the wheel.”

Rose was sceptical and at the same time wondered why his words managed to comfort her. “So, you’ll be in my head?”

“At first,” he confirmed. “Until you get the hang of it. Better sooner than later, it would be good if I could monitor some things with the TARDIS on the way.”

She rolled her eyes. “No pressure.”

He grinned, then gave a nod with his head towards the Chronon-Anchor. “Come.”

He went ahead and she followed nervously. She came to the panel and he closed the distance between them, making her look up to him. “Go on,” he murmured. “Touch the panel, activate the ring, get yourself settled.”

She wasn’t ready, not by a long shot. But she still did as he asked. When her hand touched the surface she felt the golden power of Bad Wolf flare alive, infiltrating her sight. It was like the flood made her see nothing but the light. Until she accustomed slowly, like slipping into a role. Then, she activated her ring, the green light illuminating. She inhaled as her senses switched. Like everything felt more clear. Still lingering at the border of overwhelming her. She tried to hold the balance, her breath heavy and deep. His voice was unexpectedly close. “Are you ready for me?”

She slowly opened her eyes. “Never.”

He grinned amused. His hands came to her head, the soft touch alone shot sensations through her. Everything was more intense. Him stroking her hair behind her ear made her straight-up shiver, not expecting to feel things the way she did right now, her eyes fell shut again. The question of What are you doing?, shot through her mind, not liking what his touch was doing to her. But the thing was – the touch could be casual on his end. He was kind of casual with his touch. And while it probably also fed into his control tendencies, she noticed before that he sometimes didn’t seem to think about it.

Him reaching out to her thoughts and feelings made her suppress a noise wanting to escape her mouth. He pushed her mental bits apart a lot more thoughtful than he did in the past. Making it seem – almost natural. She hummed. “Why not like that in the first place?” she said and realised her words only a seconds later.

She already felt his chuckle, but couldn’t react before she sensed him bleed into her. It disoriented her, but she knew that would settle. She was still hung up on her own words, though. “I just meant you don’t always have to be so coarse.”

“I get it,” he almost didn’t let her finish, his assuring voice outside and inside her head. “Now focus. I’m going to let the shield down.”

Oh, crap. She tried to concentrate. “Alright,” she merely whispered.

She was connected to the Chronon-Anchor, so she felt something shift. Like a gate was opening. And she felt the carefully upheld net vanish. Having the faint sense of the fabric of time being damaged. Feeling a rift slowly form. “Oh, damn,” she whispered. “You leave damage wherever you go.”

“Shush,” he countered in good humour and she was tempted to grin since she felt his irony so very clearly. It was swallowed when she felt an ancient force close in. “It’s a Wraith,” she said. “What do I do?”

“We lay ourself around the rift. Shielding it from the Wraith and fixing the rift at the same time.” He barely could finish, before the ship rattled. Rose’s eyes flew open. “We better start now, before the Wraith comes through to me,” he added.

Rose closed her eyes again. And felt him there. Leading her. But every direction he nudged her towards to, she felt her mental movements almost naturally obey. Like she first helped him span a tent and then, stitching up a wound of time, closing the crack. He helped. But it was like something she did before and had just forgotten.

She felt utter satisfaction as she felt the rift close and the lights all around it felt coherent and whole.

“Touch me.”

Her eyes flew open and she tried to pull her head back, but he wouldn’t let her. She knew he could have an iron grip if he wanted to. “What?” she still exclaimed.

“We have to separate me from this particular spot, remember? I need a little Bad Wolf for that.”

Her eyes skimmed his face hastily, no idea what he wanted from her.

“I lead you, don’t worry,” he added at her obvious panic. “Exactly like we just did. It’s just one of those moments you have to take a step towards me.” He shrugged after a second. “Or I’ll push a bit more, but honestly, it would better on various levels if you’d do it.”

She stared at him, feeling lost. “I don’t know how to take a step towards you,” she said with a small voice. And boy, was this true also on various levels.

His clear eye contact could be unnerving sometimes. He shifted closer, his eyes softened a little. “You’re already deeper in than you think.”

She quivered, maybe because he did something. Maybe because he showed her how deep she was in. “I don’t know,” she whispered. Right now, she didn’t know shit.

“You do,” he murmured, accentuating his request with his hand moving down the back of her neck. “Come on. Try it.”

She closed her eyes again. Trying to focus on whatever he could mean. She tried to relax. Loosening her tension. Not going away, but leaning into him. Taking his metaphorical hand. And for a moment – it was like she was touching him. Only in the most fleeting way. Touching something so big and complex, she would never understand it. She just went on, pushing through the heavy armour.

And suddenly, there was rush. A rush of thoughts and feelings she couldn’t name. Ideas and concepts. A moment later, some of those brushed her briefly and incoherently. Megalomania, she recognised. It was really in there, not surprising. Cruelty. Detachment. But also the fun of walking the universe was in there and she instantly felt herself resonate. Feeling free. And lonely.

A whirlwind suddenly pulled her away, but he caught her and showed her the direction of her actual destination. His connection to something he should not connect with. She assumed, the Time Matrix. He pushed her, but this time, it just felt right. She snapped the connection like a string with a scissor.

She was hurled out of it in an instant, her eyes flew open. He had slipped out in a blink of an eye and her head spun. She felt her legs give in and him catching her like he tended to do. “Dammit, can you go out slower?” she grouched. “I feel like I can handle it better if you do.”

“Sorry,” he said, but she heard his grin.

He would never sincerely apologise for anything. Ever.

She opened her eyes and tried to push herself from him, stemming her arms into his chest. When he let go, she almost fell and she hated that. “Did it work?”

He looked at her as if she should know. “What did it feel like?”

She deactivated her ring and got a hold on her former torture chair. “It felt good.” She already regretted her words as he frowned in a teasing manner. “It felt like it worked!” she corrected annoyed.

“It did. And gloriously so.” His amusement was more subtle now. “You handled Bad Wolf astonishingly well.” His grin grew again, he shook his head. “I love it when I’m right.”

“Okay, genius,” she countered drily, “I’m the one responsible you even can use Bad Wolf, so I need a lil’ acknowledgement.”

“Didn’t I just give that to you?” he said in a blank manner.

She ignored it and took another calming breath. Taking in all her experiences and sensations of these last minutes. “Being you must be exhausting,” she said in thought. “You are always wired, aren’t you?” She only looked for him a moment later. Seeing him with a small smirk that wasn’t friendly. Oh, he didn’t like that. “Sorry. I forgot you try to ignore that I can sense you.”

His following chuckle also had a certain menace. “You’re an obstreperous brat, aren’t you?” He stepped closer again and she felt it, the way he seemed to grow large and dark when he tried to threaten her. “You don’t sense me. You get a superficial whiff.”

She straightened up, trying to stand her ground. “Maybe if you wouldn’t lash out every time I address it, you would be more convincing.” He observed her, taking her in, but not saying anything. “Can we just treat it as a fact rather than a power struggle?” she continued, trying to stay rational, but she heard her own exhaustion. Because honestly, his constant need for power and dominance was so unnecessary. “I just want to get through this and so do you. Can we just treat it as what it is?”

He grinned, showing his teeth, a quiet hum escaped him. “And what is this?”

“An alliance of convenience.”

His grin widened and hardened at the same time. She wanted to step closer and tell him not to be frightened. But that wording would make him angry. She still stepped closer, unsettling him for a fleeting second. A moment she cherished more than she would have expected – that he was the one considering taking a step back. He never did this before. “You don’t lose control because of this,” she was surprised she only got her words out in a whisper. And she saw him frown a little, confused by her words or her demeanour. It softened his face, like he didn’t know how to respond. After what felt like an eternity, she added, “I’m going to my room now. See you soon, I guess.”

She turned around, away from his proximity she for once had partly created – and she could understand he perceived this as power – and simply left the room.

Chapter Text

Rose wouldn’t have expected it, but – they got into some kind of rhythm.

They continued to work on closing rifts and disconnecting him from the Time Matrix. She continued experiencing and therefore training her moves. So that they didn’t even have to connect anymore the whole way through.

“I’m supposed to do it on my own?” she had blinked at him as he suggested it for the first time.

“You start on your own, I can step in.” He tipped something on the console.

“I’ve done this like three times, ‘m not sure-”

He had jumped to her and twirled her around, pushing her towards the Chronon-Anchor. “Don’t overthink everything, just go with the flow.”

She turned to him annoyed, turning out of his grip on her shoulders. “You under-think sometimes, I just,” she sighed, “need assurance sometimes, okay?”

“Go Rose, you can do it,” he mock-cheered drily.

“Oh, you bugger,” she muttered, waiving, but already faced the panel. “If we blow up, don’t blame me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

It had worked. And Rose couldn’t help but feel a little proud. He only slipped in when they separated him from the Time Matrix in the end. This also seemed to work well enough. Touching him like this, mentally, always tended to unsettle her, though. It always felt like walking into a hurricane. And she felt him steady her, leading her. As if he knew that he was a major clusterfuck.

But she had slid back, separating from him and felt … pleased. It had worked exactly the way it should, from start to end. And she did a lot of it on her own. Well, if you excluded Bad Wolf, of course.

She came back with him still holding her face. Holding her close. A smile playing around his lips. Part of her wanted to be held, because it was always tiring. But she couldn’t place his smile. “What?” she prompted.

“You liked that.”

She felt indignant and caught and embarrassed and sheepish all at once, so she tried to push herself away. “I liked that it worked!”

After a first resistance, he let go. “You liked feeling powerful.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes. “I like having some influence on whether I die or not, yes.”

He simply grinned and she wanted to slap him.

It continued to work. She got more secure in what she did, in recognising certain patterns or leaning into her intuition when something didn’t go exactly as planned. And she was torn about that he just let her do her thing. Because she was glad that, for once, he didn't feel the need to control her every move. But she also was afraid he’d just left her on her own without thinking about it. Sometimes it felt like it.

One time, the moment she had closed the rift, she expected him to already be there when he wasn’t. “Oi, where are you, kicking your heels?” she urged him, feeling herself losing her grip on the rift, threatening to snap open again.

He came and slipped in very quickly, making her hiss at first. It wasn’t quite in pain. But she also couldn’t name what she felt exactly.

“Focus,” she heard his voice.

“You can talk,” she complained. But was able to get back on track.

Sometimes she thought his participation depended on his mood. Seriously, a lot of his actions depended on his mood, he was kind of emotionally unstable. Because yeah, he let her swim on her own – but if something got more out of hand than she anticipated, he always seemed to be there, as backup. Slipping in when needed.

All in all – you could call their work productive.

<>

Rose felt herself adapting to their routine without questioning it too much. Which didn’t mean she didn’t struggle. The feeling of having to put up some resistance towards him never really vanished. He still overstepped. But marking her boundaries didn’t seem to have dire consequences anymore. Not directly, at least. When working, he still tended to drop her in it. Pushing her, challenging her. And she sometimes wondered if some hairy situation could have ended up worse than they did.

Also, personal space – still an alien concept to him.

A quake on her bed woke her up, and she growled. “Sleeping again?” he nagged. “Get up. I just evaluated the results of our last rift encounter and I want to try something.”

“Get lost,” she mumbled into her pillow, but she perceived through her closed eyes that the TARDIS turned the light on. It wasn’t the first time he did that.

“How can you be tired again? I don’t get how you can function.”

“I already told you – I function as soon as I get my cuppa.”

He sighed theatrically, fiddling with his screwdriver. “You’re high-maintenance.”

“You can get yourself a newer model.”

“So, go to the kitchen,” he ignored her, prompting her impatiently.

“Just annoy somebody else for half an hour and then we can talk.”

“Oh Rose,” he said with a devious smile, one arm propped on her bed as he lazily sat there. “You know there’s nobody else.”

“Which is pretty disturbing,” she shot back and then pointed at the door. “Go!”

He didn’t wake her every night or morning, but he had no impulse control. If there was something he wanted to do or try, he’d come.

One morning, she smelled something. Something nice. Warm and familiar. “Wakey-wakey,” his voice sang and her eyes snapped open. He crouched in front of her bed with a cup of tea in his hand and a grin like a Cheshire cat. “I think I know why we had trouble with the one yesterday, do you want to know why?”

She really didn’t know if she should be mad or laugh. This was so unreal to her. “You’re unbelievable,” she mumbled dumbstruck.

“I need you to stand up already.”

“Leave the tea and go away. I’ll be there in five.”

He grinned satisfied and complied to her orders.

It was like he had switched tactics. He wasn’t blatantly crossing her boundaries in an obvious way anymore. It was like he had fun taking her rules and dissect and play with them, bending them. It was annoying, but she rather dealt with that than his violence.

She sat on the couch in the living room one time, her legs stretched out, she leaned against the armrest. Reading something about ruptures of time. She had asked the TARDIS about information she could understand and could potentially help her. The moment he came into the room, she shook her head, not looking up. “No.”

“No?” he teased. “I haven’t asked anything.”

“I need a bloody break. You pushed me a little too hard for my taste today.”

“You’re so fragile,” he sighed disappointed, slipping his hands in his pockets and she peered at him.

“I’m dealing with you, so don’t ever call me fragile.”

“We would be faster if you wouldn’t sleep or rest all the time.”

Rose lay her book down, her smile at him cold. “Why dontcha do it on your own, then?”

“Careful,” his grin got a tad more dangerous as well.

She focused on her book again. “Just sayin’,” she all but mumbled. They’d have these moments. When they slithered near the edge of their non-explicit truce they had right now. Where they could tease and annoy each other as long as they went in the same direction for the time being. The one where he didn’t question her importance and she didn’t question his authority. They both recognised pretty early when they got close, so they managed to keep it civil these last weeks.

He took two steps what made her glance at him again. “Taking the whole couch now?”

“First come, first serve?” she asked in an impish, but still sheepish way, trying to signal him she didn’t want conflict.

“Funny, I thought I have been first in this room.”

“Why don’t you ask the TARDIS for a bigger couch then?”

She didn’t expect him to heave her legs to make room for him. When he sat down with a sigh, he simply let her legs fall as well and they landed on his lap. He grabbed a laptop and opened it while putting in down on her legs. Starting to work on something.

This was one of these moments concerning physical touch she thought he didn’t even register as slightly out of the norm, considering their relationship.

The interesting part was – she started to ignore it as well.

<>

They were successful for quite a while, before the Master had revealed to her that there were also rifts with a slightly more complicated pattern.

She missed a beat. “How slightly?” she asked warily.

“I’m gonna show you.”

“Wait, stop.” She stretched out her hand. “You want to throw me in again and not explain anything. I won’t do this.”

“Oh yes, you will,” he winked, but Rose noticed the sharpness in his tone.

Sometimes she wondered how she put up with him. “You always do that, you know that?”

He raised a brow. “Do what?”

“Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t fit your reputation,” she shot back.

“No idea what you are talking about,” he attended to the control panel.

She imagined how throwing the cup in her hand towards him would feel like and found it astonishingly satisfying. “Oh really? Then you’re apparently not withholding information from me to keep ‘the upper hand’, my mistake.” She shrugged.

He got away from the panel to walk to her, a knowing, complacent grin on his face. “Of course not, I’d never do that,” he blatantly lied.

“Oh my, look at that smugness. Is being impudent not tiring at some point?”

His smile got wider as he stood in front of her and he shook his head. “Nope.”

“Let me guess. It keeps you young?”

“You know me so well,” he wrinkled his nose. “So put that cup away and get ready.”

She faintly shook her head in disbelief. “Nice to know you trust in my abilities so much,” she accentuated her pivotal role in this without explicitly saying it, “but don’t just leave me hanging there.”

“When have I ever let you down?”

She blinked. “You want an honest answer to that?”

“I meant with this business,” he rolled his eyes.

She hesitated. Wondering how real she should get here. “There were moments you left me alone.” Moments she had been sure she wouldn’t find the rift or barely kept it together.

She didn’t expect his face subtly shifting to something … sincere. She didn’t expect the smugness to take a back seat. “I obviously never left you with something you can’t handle.”

She wasn’t sure what to say. Because, yeah, obviously not, they were still standing. But she felt more lucky than skilled. “Okay, whatever, can you still not leave me hanging this time?”

His smile was a bit crooked. But, surprisingly, not in a haughty way. And when he stepped forward and closed the gap between them, he seemed honest. Watching her in a way that made her feel seen. It was not a look she noticed on him before. “Promise,” he murmured and she hated that his voice slid under her skin the way it did. “I won’t leave.”

Oh, he wouldn’t. He would never leave or let her leave. She hated that his voice created a sudden and unwanted intimacy, because it was nothing but twisted and tainted. She hated how she, despite that fact, wanted to lean into it. Feeling that it sparked something within her. She wanted someone to lean against. Just not him. But he was the only one there. His hands rose. “Come here,” he mumbled while cradling her cheeks and her lips parted in unexpected tension. She didn’t want the goosebumps to spread, but they did. After a second, he tilted his head. “Something the matter?”

Rose didn’t know what happened. Why she was suddenly so confused. She wanted to answer, but didn’t know how. “You’re strange.”

His faint grin was amused. “Am I?” he challenged.

“Yes.”

“And in what way am I strange?”

Where to even start? She didn’t quite understand this moment between them. To be honest, a lot of the time she felt like she could grasp him. Like she got his emotions even more then he did. Not that she could anticipate his every impulsive behaviour, but he had certain patterns. But in other moments, she didn’t get him at all. She shook her head, but that only made her more aware how he held her. “Just start,” she finally mumbled.

He did as she asked. Simply going to work and honestly, she welcomed it. They had a routine by now and Rose knew the procedures. She knew that lifting the shield would reveal a rift and they needed to fix it, before the Wraith would intervene and make it unknowingly worse. So she channelled her lights, she reached out to fix it. And at first, it was business as usual. Not easy, but not unfamiliar as well. But then, she felt a jolt.

One that felt like it paralysed her for a moment and she was losing her grip. And she felt him being there, but something in there just broke down.

Rose fell. She crashed to the ground, the cold metal floor. She opened her eyes, realising she lay on the TARDIS floor and the ship rattled.

“Well, fuck,” she heard the Master’s voice and suddenly, he pulled her up.

She felt dizzy. “What happened?” she asked while being pushed to the Anchor’s panel.

“Erect the shield, it’s the fastest way,” he ordered and she did it. Laying her hand on the surface and using Bad Wolf to shield them against the attacking Wraith. Like she already did in the very, very beginning, when she didn’t even knew what she was doing.

After silence fell upon them, she took a deep breath. Finally separating her hand from the cold surface. Then, she peered at him.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he immediately shot back.

“And why shouldn’t I?”

“I got some data,” he said annoyed and walked to the control panel. “I’m going to analyse these different kind of rifts.”

“I wanna look at the data as well.”

His head snapped in her direction. “You do?”

“I’ve read up on things and I want in,” she confirmed self-assured.

After a moment, he shrugged. “Sure, knock yourself out.” He sat on a chair in front of the console and she took one as well, joining him there. She didn’t understand it as he did, of course. But she had read up on it and the TARDIS supported her in a way that made her understand it in a manner she could work with.

<>

He did something to the Chronon-Anchor. Between their sessions, he experimented on various things, she wasn’t always sure on what. Sometimes, she felt something was different. Steadier, for example.

Right now, sparks flew and he cursed, while she sat on the control panel, skimming through the data, with her back to him. She didn’t flinch at his deeds. Honestly, it had become a background noise she kind of accustomed to. She heard a woosh, a sudden light and something that sounded suspiciously like a fire extinguisher. It silenced after a few moments. “Glad to see how deeply relaxed you are,” he eventually said.

Her head leaned on her propped up hand. “I’m sure you’ve got it all under control.”

“Obviously.” She heard his steps through the room.

“Our attempts break in,” she simply voiced her thoughts on the current subject.

“Pardon?” He leaned on the console she was sitting on, an arm’s length away.

“It works in the beginning and then breaks down like a tent that’s missing half the bars.”

“That’s true,” he sighed. “But it’s only a matter of time, we’ll find a way around it.”

“How?” she doubted. “The Chronon-Anchor does his part and so do we. With keeping this whole shit somewhat balanced, the TARDIS is helping out. She does half the work there, but it’s like it’s missing another half of …” Her voice dried up the moment a realisation hit her. A fundamental one. At first it hit her in a way she didn’t understand but already felt.

So much meaning. And hope that she didn’t even dare having.

The TARDIS is helping with a part of it.

Another TARDIS could help balancing it out.

She looked up, searching for him. He looked back knowingly. Like he was aware that she realised it just now. His annoyed grin not really there, but still hidden on his face.

Rose felt her heart pound in her chest, but she tried to temper her hopes and dreams. Her hands lay flatly on the table surface, the cold metal on her skin grounded her when she felt like floating. The meaning of this realisation was so surreal yet so profound. The potential consequences momentous. It was an option she didn’t even dare to imagine anymore. She blinked, noticing his obvious restraint. “It would solve this, wouldn’t it?” she asked and her voice sounded as fragile as she expected.

She meant involving another TARDIS.

Involving the Doctor.

Now his grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, bit it wasn’t real. “One of many possible solutions. Believe me when I say, this one is not high on my list.”

There she felt it, her heart expectedly sank. She had expected him to crush her hopes, but it still hurt. She wanted to scream at him that he should call the Doctor right now, but she knew with clarity that he wouldn’t do it. “Why not?” she asked, trying to sound not as desperate as she felt. Dammit, why didn’t he!

“We are not arguing about this,” he said still calmly and even more seriously.

But she couldn’t leave it. This opportunity was too big. “It would be the best solution,” she got more agitated.

But was faced with a low laugh, the sparks in his eyes darkened them. “Oh, I bet you see it that way. Having the Doctor sweep in and save you, right?”

She expected to feel more anger, but she mostly felt frustrated. “Do I want to get away from you? Yes, of course! But it’s also the most elegant solution!”

“Oh, do enlighten me, Rose Tyler,” he sneered. “Since you apparently grasp the elegance of quantum physics methodology.”

“It doesn’t make sense!” she sprung up, feeling that anger at last. She strode up to him. “It’s so risky to waste time by searching for other ways when you want to survive so badly, it just doesn't add up!”

“I want to survive, but I’m not afraid of risks,” he shot back. “I would be living the wrong life for that.”

“Just,” she clenched her fist, not knowing what to do with her tension, “think about this rationally.”

“Rose,” he warned. “I get that you have to make this argument right now, I get that you have to try. But if you don’t stop now, I won’t play nice.”

T he words got stuck in her throat. “ Play nice?” she chocked out, hating that he made that threat. She wanted to scream at him that a was barely nice , but she knew she would be gambling.

“You heard me,” he countered.

She was too angry. Too upset to argue smartly. She needed to clear her head. “Fine,” she still hissed. “Be that way.” She twirled around to storm out of the room.

<>

Rose ran into her room and screamed into a pillow.

She couldn’t believe it, the Doctor was within her reach in a way he hadn’t been for a long time. In a way she hadn’t dared to hope anymore. A lot of time has passed since that incident at the market in the very beginning and she had lost faith. That this would be a realistic outcome of her situation. Her nightmare.

And now, this just popped up out of nowhere and she was supposed to ignore it?

Rose had paced around her room for quite a while. She went for a jog when she was still upset. After a few hours, she finally calmed down. Laying in her bed, she pondered over her options. She would bring it up again at some point. But she needed a clear head for it.

It was dark and she was tired. She fiddled with the blanket, still letting her thoughts wander. When she was taken by surprise with a knock on her door. She frowned and saw how the door opened. He stood in the door frame. The light from the floor made him a silhouette.

She neither expected him knocking nor him lingering there. “You try to be civil?” she scoffed.

“How am I doing?” she heard his grin.

“Poor imitation,” she quipped, but sat up in bed, not sure what he wanted from her now.

“Can I come in?”

“Are you kidding me right now?” she shot back. Oh wow, she really was fed up with him, her filter was very thin. But not a few hours ago he had threatened her. He didn’t have to be explicit, from what he had done in the past, she had a pretty good picture. And now – what? This farce?

“I want to smooth the waters,” he clarified. “If you let me.”

Her hands rubbed over her face so that she could hide a sigh. “If you want to keep me in a good mood, don’t bother,” she said without sharpness. “We work together out of necessity, that means we have to pull ourselves together either way.”

He missed a beat. And then moved.

She wasn’t in the mood, not really. And wary about his motives. She bent her knees in front of her and was glad that he took a chair to sit down and didn’t use her bed. The light from the floor still shone in, the rest was still pretty dark, but she could see his face when he was that close. He leaned forwards, propping his elbows on his knees. “ Alright,” he agreed. “But keeping you in a good mood facilitates pulling yourself together, doesn’t it?”

“Nothing you can say about not calling the Doctor will keep me in a good mood,” she said honestly.

His eyes were clear as he observed her. “Okay,” he said after a while, maybe sobered, but maybe also simply accepting. After a heartbeat, he briefly pointed at her. “Have you tried it outside of fixing ruptures?”

“Tried what?”

“The ring.”

She stared back. A bit dumbstruck. She glanced down, seeing it sitting there on her finger. To be honest, it wasn’t necessarily something that had been on her radar. “I, uh … no.”

She saw his grin it the dim light. “Why not?”

Rose didn’t know what to say. She didn’t really have an answer. It felt … dangerous. She felt her fingers absently fiddle with it. “ I dunno,” she mumbled. “It wasn’t sure if it was safe.”

His head tilted to the side. “What does your gut say?”

Rose was puzzled on so many levels. In a way, yes, she knew it well enough by now to feel that it wasn’t dangerous per se. “It’s also just really intense,” she added timidly.

“True,” he granted, but his grin had something conspiratorial. “But still, feeling that kind of power, seeing your own eyes shine – that must do something to you, doesn’t it?”

She flinched. “S-see?”

He curiously blinked at her. “You never took a peek at yourself?”

“While fixing ruptures?” she countered drily. “That sentiment must have gotten lost somehow.”

“Get up,” he commanded while doing the same.

“Whot?”

“Come on,” he prompted in good humour. “The better you know yourself and Bad Wolf, the better your work will be.”

She sighed. “Maybe I don’t want to work for once.”

“This isn’t work, promise. Now get up.”

Another sigh. But she threw to blanket aside and climbed out of bed. As soon as she was up, his hand landed on her back, leading her. In front of her mirror the TARDIS had provided her with at some point.

He came up behind her, his hand on her back now lightly ghosted along her right arm. The touch was fleeting, yet intentional. Finally sliding down her underarm. Reaching her wrist. And her palm with the faintest brush, but lingering. She tried to keep her hand from trembling. “What are you doing?” she whispered.

“Activate your ring,” he matched her tone.

And she made the mistake to watch him through the mirror. Right behind her. She felt him being close to her ear, but he straight-up stared back with dark eyes and a sly grin. She wanted to flee this moment and was hypnotised by it at the same time.

She got away from his eyes, searching for the ring on her hand. His hand holding hers, silently prompting her to activate it. She didn’t think clearly, but raised her left hand to reach for the green ring. Sliding over it.

She felt the rush. But she also saw it illuminating. The room around her. Not like a harsh light, more like a warm glow. And she looked up into the mirror.

“Oh, wow,” she sighed. She hated to admit it, but he was right. Seeing this – was worth it. She saw her own shiny eyes and it was wild. The visible proof that there was some unknown power inside of her. So mighty that it could protect the universe. Seeing this was unexpectedly satisfying. Maybe even empowering. Justified or not.

Apart from that, she felt her senses heightened like she usually did. She felt the air in the room. The core of the TARDIS. She felt her own tissue. And she felt him. His hand on hers moved, taking her left one still on the ring, to slide it even further.

Rose gasped at the unexpected exhilaration, like always on the border of being too much. She accustomed to it in parts, but her breath was heavy and her focus blurred. The way she felt things here was in a way her body wasn’t supposed to feel. It felt like her brain had trouble catching up.

Like this sensation on her inner wrist that shot up her arm and lit her veins on fire.

The one caused by his fingers.

His touch was tentative, as if he knew he had to be careful. Not to send her on overload.

But then he moved. Agonisingly slow and delicately grazing up her arm with his fingers. At first up her inner arm all the way up to the crook. Rose shuddered, his touch so intense and saturated, touching not only her skin, but her very core. Part of her wanted it to stop. Another part felt this was the most real contact she ever had. And she didn’t understand it.

She felt her breath through her parted lips, she felt his touch inside her body with every inch his fingers drove further, up her arm. She felt air filling her lungs as she heavily breathed. Trying to figure out why it all made her so dizzy.

She tried to focus elsewhere. Her shining eyes. His captivating look. She felt his power. His mental presence. But also hers. Most of it still locked. But him, he was overpowering. He intended to be and he simply was. Empathised by him leaning in close and his fingers finally stopping on her shoulder.

It was like he had left a mark on her, she still felt his previous touch all the way up her arm. It burned. It consumed.

The threshold of being too much just got exceeded as she felt herself quiver from all of this. She reached for her ring, shutting it off.

It was like her senses dulled, but she welcomed it. For his hand on her shoulder was still confusing her. Her light was gone, but she still saw his satisfied look in the mirror. His voice was low and close. “Good?”

She shivered, hating that it was, but denying it made no sense. “Yeah,” she barely got out, speaking felt strange. Like she still had to catch her breath. It felt good, no question. Sensing her power, sensing what potential this had. She didn’t want to be seduced by power, though. Her look got firmer. “I’m still mad at you,” she clarified, showing him that she won’t forget or be bought off.

His grin widened. “Naturally.”

The more she stood there, the more she wanted to lie down. So she stepped away from him to get rid of his touch already. She aimed for the bed. “Get out now.”

She didn’t look back when she slipped under the covers, her back to him. After a moment, she heard him walk away. The door closed, the light vanished.

Chapter Text

Rose hated to admit it, but she carried that feeling of being aware of her power more with her than she had expected. She had always rather felt the pressure of too much responsibility. And that wasn’t gone, far from it. But she felt, for the first time, that she actually could do it. She had the power.

She only wondered why he wanted to show her that.

She strode into the control room straight to the little board where the TARDIS had established a tea corner for her.

“What would you say to a little adventure?” she heard him ask.

“Ugh,” she immediately uttered, already hating whatever he planned.

“You don’t even know what I have in mind,” he chuckled and that already confirmed that she would hate it.

She turned around with her cup and walked closer. “Based on our track record of trips, I’m sure I will be thrilled,” she accentuated sarcastically and let herself fall on the chair.

“Oh, this one will be different,” he promised, but his grin told her she wouldn’t necessarily like it better. “It’s a way to get a stabiliser, so to speak. For stabilising the imbalance we fight right now with the rifts.”

“The one the Doctor’s TARDIS could solve?” she threw in drily.

“Yes.”

“Just making sure,” she nodded with obviously fake casualness. She would make sure that he knew how utterly ridiculous she found this.

“It’s not easy to get a hold of it though,” he ignored her. “This event, which is basically a gambling event, is very exclusive with strict rules and ruthless participants.”

She quietly sighed. That sounded like fun.

“I got us in,” he continued and then tipped something on the console. “You’re posing as my wife by the way.”

She really wasn’t sure if she heard that right. “Come again?”

“One of the rules. You only appear with a plus one.”

He must be kidding her. “Well, take somebody else then. You’re nine hundred years old. Nobody owes you a favour or anything?”

“I want you to get close to it so I can scan you, see if it would really work. If Bad Wolf is compatible.” He glanced at her. “Maybe you can sense it too.”

She stared at him dumbstruck. “I don’t want to pose as your wife.”

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “It’s no real commitment, pet. Just pretend to like me for a bit.”

“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.”

His grin sharpened. “You’re either my wife or my whore, what do you prefer?”

She blinked. “What kind of event is this?”

He turned towards her, leaning against the console behind him. “I told you. The clientele is ruthless, the gambling illegal by many existing laws. They gamble for rare and often dangerous objects. This one happens to be something we need. The rules there don’t logically make sense but are rather etiquette. Just … turned and twisted ones.”

“Oh, so you should fit right in.”

“I’d like to think so,” he smirked. “Any questions?”

“All this trouble because you don’t want to contact the Doctor,” she clarified annoyed.

“Pretty much.”

“God, you’re so frustrating,” she mumbled, her look fell down.

“You should learn the basics of the card game,” he added casually and turned around on the console again.

“What?” she moaned. Seriously, everything about this pissed her off.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to shine. But it is expected you at least know the rules.”

“Another etiquette?”

He turned around, smiling. “Yes.” Rose crumpled into her chair, sulking. “You’re also not allowed to make a face,” he commented.

“Describe this stupid event,” she spat.

“Two days, first one basically a social event with dinner to decide if all candidates are allowed to participate on the second day. We stay overnight.”

Her smile wasn’t humorous. “One room again? I hope you recently slept.”

“I’m gonna be awake, you have the bed all to yourself,” he mirrored her fake grin.

She loudly groaned, staring into the air. Trying to come to terms with it since she had no choice. Her next words were resigned. “Tell me exactly what I have to expect there.”

<>

The grand ballroom glittered under the blazing spotlights, casting flickering reflections off the polished marble floors. The hum of chatter, clinking glasses, and distant laughter filled the air, all wrapped in an atmosphere of luxury. It should have been exciting, even fun, to be here undercover, searching for a rare device they needed to reach their goal.

But for Rose, it was uncomfortable. Tense. She hated it.

Posh didn’t even begin to describe their whereabouts. They had entered the room with their invitations and she was faced with a high society party. There were dances and there would be dinner. They apparently would be on the VIP table. There were actually a lot of people not participating in tomorrow’s event. This was only the prelude.

Rose tugged at the hem of her sleek dress, her nerves buzzing under the fabric. The silver gown was elegant, but the low-backed cut was a bit too low for her taste. It was designed to draw eyes, something she felt too exposed in. Her pinned updo was a little too firm for her liking. Still, it apparently all fitted right in.

The Master came back, he wanted to find out where their table would be, and she hated him for looking way too good in his perfectly tailored black suit. Besides T-shirts, he also wore shirts, though they were generally more casual. This dress code suited his imposing presence and fed it.

“Come on,” he said and he guided her through the crowd, his hand resting lightly on her lower back in doing so. Having him touch her skin there because of her stupid dress was … a little too close for comfort. But she wasn’t supposed to push his hand away, now was she?

“Okay, wait,” he commanded and his hand switched to her naked shoulder. There was only fabric around her neck. He nodded at a certain table. “There are our seats. Don’t piss anyone off and just be your charming self.” His hand wandered slightly down her arm, his thumb moved in an affectionate manner. She hated that she was so aware of all this, of every little touch. She tried to pretend that the charade doesn’t bother her that much, but she noticed her focus had already shifted.

He turned around and stepped in front of her, thankfully drawing her attention to that. “It’s not going to be difficult,” he promised and sounded surprisingly comforting. “It’s just dinner and dancing.”

“I trained eating all my life, I’m gonna manage that at least,” she joked, glossing over her tension.

He grinned and there was something genuine therein. Part of her wondered if it was already part of his role. That and the constant contact between them, his gentle touches as they moved through the party. It unsettled her and she couldn’t seem to ignore it. “Champagne equivalent first?” he asked.

“On an empty stomach so that I get drunk? Count me in.”

He smirked and his hand was on her back again, leading her forwards. Yet each time his hand skimmed her back or his fingers brushed her arm, it sent an unfamiliar jolt through her and she wanted to snap at him that she could walk on her own.

“Also,” the Master murmured near her ear. His hand slid up her spine and she flinched. “Don’t look just as annoyed as you do, okay? Do it for me, darling.”

She glanced up at him, scowling, but he simply smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Don’t call me that,” she hissed sharply and forced a strained smile as they approached a group of important looking people, who turned their attention to them with approving nods. “We’re not a nickname kind of couple.”

“Oh, aren’t we?” he countered surprised and amused.

“No,” she insisted as they arrived at the bar.

“Two, please,” the Master ordered and the waiter took some glasses to fill them up. His hand gently and briefly touched her chin to make her look at him. “Just try to look like you’re happy to be here.”

She sighed in an attempt to disregard all the things she hated about this. Which was pretty much everything. But she tried. To pretend this was just a fancy party. The atmosphere was dazzling, he promised the food will be good, she could indulge in it, right?

She opened her eyes she had closed. And gave him a smile which probably didn’t fool him, but hopefully everyone around. “I think you promised me champagne.”

He had waited, but now a corner of his mouth turned up. He turned around and like on cue the waiter came to hand him the beverages. Rose took one glass from the Master. He winked at her. “Cheers.”

Damn, his smile could be contagious, she never noticed before. She believed this whole setting was messing with her mind. They chinked glasses and Rose tasted the alien drink on her tongue. It was more on the dry side and it tingled as it went down her throat. The aftertaste was quite pleasant. “Not bad.”

His eyes skimmed her as he was leaning against the bar, a smile still rested on his lips. “Not at all.” She didn’t know how to take that, it confused her and she also felt the need to squirm under his gaze, but he already continued. “Ready to take your seat?”

To be honest, she wasn’t sure. “You said these people were dangerous.”

His face actually got more sincere. “They’re not right now, promise. This is a social event.”

“But you said we’re being gauged.”

“Yes, but more because they don’t want to be busted. And we really don’t intend to do that.”

She nodded, taking another breath to collect herself. She wanted to make sure. He sometimes told her only half the truth. “Alright, let’s go.”

Again, he led her across the room. And again, he used his hand on her back to it. Oddly enough, the closer they got to the table, the more grounding it felt. As much as it confused her. But she didn’t know what awaited her and he was – familiar. The devil you knew.

As soon as they arrived at the long table, a man opposite to their seats spoke up. “Aah, one of the missing couples, I suppose.”

The Master’s arm wound around her waist, pulling her just a little closer. She looked at him, trying not to act on her impulse to push him away and saw him already watching her with a satisfied smile. “That’s us.”

“Well then, have a seat,” the stranger pointed at the chairs.

She saw the Master’s faint amusement under the superficial gentleness and Rose tried to give that energy back. She bat her eyelashes at him in an equal manner, before she stepped away and sat down, putting her glass on the table. “You’ve got one of those? They taste amazing,” she directly engaged in conversation.

The guy raised an empty glass. “You’re absolutely right about that.”

He seemed pleasant enough. His suit was extremely posh, he was lean and he moved with a certain grace. Interestingly enough, his curly hair was a bit out of place which created a bit of a mismatch. “So what’s your name?” she asked.

“Ranget. And with whom do I have the pleasure?”

“I’m Rose.” She pointed at the Time Lord and his hand already settled between her shoulder plates in a display of affection. “This is the Master.” She almost stumbled over her words, when he kept touching her like this – soft, deliberate, and with a familiarity she hadn’t expected. It should be clear to her by now that he would continued to do so. Part of her wished he would have told her beforehand that he would do that.

“Imposing name,” Ranget commented.

“I’ve done a lot to deserve it.”

“Yeah?” The stranger took a sip of his current drink. “Like what?”

“Ooh, if I told you, I’d have to kill you,” the Master winked with humour and just the right amount of threat to empathise the verisimilitude of his statement.

Ranget let that sink in, his grin was appreciative, until he laughed with a head shake. Rose was distracted as the Master’s hand moved in a tender caress all the way up to her nape. It spread through her body into her belly, her lips parted, totally swamped with her own body reactions seemingly coming out of nowhere. She found herself glancing at him as he talked to the other man, her mind whirling with confusion.

She felt like her body mixed everything up. Because she knew she didn’t want him to touch her like that.

Right?

So this must be disgust, because he was too close for comfort.

Right?

“Are you a fan of the game?” Ranget’s voice pulled her out.

She blinked. The Master had told her that they referred to the card game simply as the game. “To be honest, I’m not very good at it,” she wrinkled her nose, faking a little shame.

“Nonsense,” the Master threw in. “You’re good for the short time you’re playing.”

Okay, these blatant compliments bamboozled her more than she wanted to admit. She knew it was an act, but she underestimated how effortlessly he was able to pull this off.

She shoved him playfully and got herself out of staring at him for too long. “Terrible liar,” she scolded, then turned to Ranget with a frisk scandalousness. “Look how he turns on his charm.”

“Oh, that’s understandable,” he countered. “I would be too if I had such a lovely – I assume – wife?”

Something happened, because she felt his touch on her neck shift, his fingers pressed a bit more into her skin, like he hinted at grabbing her. All very subtle. “You assume absolutely right,” he still answered. Rose fleetingly looked at him, seeing if something was off. And while he seemed absolutely relaxed, she sensed something from him she couldn’t pinpoint.

She decided to ignore it for now. “So where is your companion?” she asked instead.

“Oh, somewhere around here,” he lazily gestured. “She’s mainly here for the game tomorrow. Because – and in no way I mean this offending – the probability of winning the game tomorrow is higher if both are good at it.”

“Oh, I’m not offended,” Rose smiled and reached for the Master’s other hand still lying on the table. “He’s a brilliant player and good enough for the both of us.”

She had wanted to match his energy, somehow feeling she’d get the short end of the stick if she didn’t, but didn’t expect him to intertwine their hands, claiming her hand just as he had claimed her neck.

He hummed, leaning in closer and her heart skipped a beat. “Thanks, honey.”

She forced her smile to widen, but as one of his fingers drove sensually up her neck until it reached her ear, she trembled.

And she hated it.

She also hated the spark she imagined being in his eyes.

“Nothing but the truth,” she almost bit out, her control slipping.

She was grateful as all the guest were summoned to sit down by a guy with a microphone.

<>

One would think that he would keep his hands more to himself while dining. Which was partly the case. But he still found opportunities to briefly touch her. Her hand, her arm in a brief, but loving caress. Her fucking nape.

She hadn’t known herself how fucking sensitive she was there.

At least the food was really tasty and the people there seemed to be nice, at least. Ranget and his companion seemed to have mainly a work relationship. Rose didn’t know if she was also his whore as the Master had put it in the beginning.

But the woman beside her was very chatty in a pleasant way. “And don’t worry about playing the game, sweetheart,” she promised. “My husband is very bad in it.”

“That’s true,” came his voice as he ate his soup.

Rose had to smile at their authenticity.

“How did the two of you meet?” Ranget asked from the other side and the question hit Rose unprepared. ‘He abducted me against my will’ didn’t seem like the best answer.

“Ooh,” the Master in contrast didn’t seem to have any trouble answering. “I simply swept her off her feet.” His hand on her back squeezed her intentionally. “She didn’t have a chance.”

Rose didn’t know how she prevented herself from huffing, absolutely in disbelief about his audacity. She tried to make her smile less stunned, hiding the fact that she wanted to slap him. “No,” she instead told the truth – just disguised as affection. “I really didn’t.”

She was still tied to his eyes as her seat neighbour gushed over the wonder of love or anything. Rose hinted a pissed-off shake of her head. He knew exactly how she felt, she saw it in his smirk. But she wasn’t allowed to push back or even show any of her feelings. Her look fell down on her empty plate.

She didn’t expect him to lean in close, his mouth near her ear. “Not the worst poker face, but not the best either,” he murmured and made it prickle under her skin as a consequence. He radiated heat, his breath tickled her neck.

She draw back a little to watch him, but he was intimately close. “You don’t have to throw me under the bus, you know,” she whispered.

“He asked, I answered.” His fingers suddenly were on the verge of her ear, trailing down to spread more goosebumps. Him eventually finding her lobe and gingerly squeezing it, made her shudder. And she couldn’t help it, her lids fell shut for a moment. “Don’t,” she whispered and hated how she begged him. He lingered, but finally let go of her. But his knuckles delicately moved down her jaw on the way.

Then, he leaned back, eating the rest of his meal.

He was a sodding bastard.

Why did he have to make this harder than it already was? She should just leave him alone, walking out to the TARDIS. But she was in too deep now, because this party seemed very pleasant, but she suspected that could change very fast.

Maybe he had understood her, because he held more back for the rest of the dinner. And she calmed down as well, able to keep her shit together.

“So, Rose,” Ranget said after they all had finished dessert. “Still interested in another glass of these?” He lifted the empty glass with champagne equivalent. “We could get one.”

“Um,” she thought about it it for a moment, but what the hell, why not. “Sure.” She stood up, briefly checking on the Master. He didn’t intervene, but something around his eyes hardened. Not much, no one would notice this. But, well, Rose had been forced to get to know him more closely. “Am right back,” she stated.

“Sure,” he answered, but she already stepped away.

Ranget had to walk all the way around the long table, but welcomed her with a stretched-out elbow. She openly smiled. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he politely smiled back. “It’s your first time here, isn’t it?”

She huffed. “Is it so obvious?”

“No, I mean, you don’t get out of line or attract negative attention. More the opposite, really,” he charmingly smiled.

She mirrored it. “So, what gives me away?”

He shrugged. “You have … an innocence surrounding you.” She faltered, involuntarily stopping. Fortunately, they arrived at the bar anyway. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean it in a demeaning way,” he immediately promised, having clearly sensed that she was uncomfortable. “It’s refreshing, honestly.”

“Oh.”

He waited until she looked at him again. “Honestly,” he repeated and his smile was genuine enough.

“I get it,” she assured him and pointed at the beverage for the waiter.

“Yeah, and it’s interesting that I get a totally different vibe from your husband.” He took the glasses, handing one to her.

“Oh, I believe that,” she decided just to roll with it. She couldn’t quite place if she had a conversation or was interrogated. “He’s in this world far longer than I’ve been.”

“Yeah, I thought so.” He took a sip. “However, you do well.”

She thought about it for a moment, but then decided to face him more properly, head high. “I know I do well,” she pretended to wonder. “I don’t need your or anyone’s approval for that. You know that, right?”

His smile came delayed, but it came. “Of course not, Rose. That’s not what I meant.”

“Of course,” she repeated with an effortless smile and drank while still watching him.

<>

Ranget introduced her to a few other people they met at the bar. He actually gave her some insider information, even though it was mostly gossip. Who had an affair with whom, who had done something smart or something stupid. It was still fun. This was simply having a good time. But she still felt herself tiring, simply because this whole situation caught up with her.

She was offside, watching the party go on and on. People laughed, they drank, they danced. It looked pretty.

Suddenly, she felt a familiar presence behind her. She expected him to search for her at some point. His voice was low and smooth. “Care for a dance?”

That on the other hand surprised her. She turned around. “Seriously?”

His smile was relatively tame. “Part of the appearance, isn’t it? Also, no one else listens in on us when we talk.”

She flinched, but it made sense. “Alright.”

He stretched out his hand, but didn’t take his eyes off her, his charming smile absolutely unnerving to her. She took his hand reluctantly and he led her on the dance floor between other dance couples slowly swaying to the music. He turned to face her and slid an arm around her waist, pulling her close. She placed her hand on his shoulder and tried to ignore the heat of his hand against her back, the way his fingers brushed against her skin.

“So, how are we doing?” he asked and she was glad he pulled her out of her state where she noticed his every touch.

“Splendid,” she chaffed.

“Rose,” he warned.

“It’s fine,” she rolled her eyes. “It’s a shallow party. So far it’s nothing that doesn’t exist on Earth.” She took a breath. “I can’t read Ranget,” she added in thought. “In between I got the impression I was assessed.”

His eyes flickered to the side, contemplating, but not surprised. “Yeah, I got the same impression.”

“Is it dangerous?”

He watched her again and she was aware how close they were. “No,” he murmured and he used his hand on her back to draw her even closer. “I’ll make sure.”

She parted her lips in an attempt to regulate her breath suddenly getting deeper. She tightened up, automatically holding against his pull.

“You’re tense,” he murmured, voice low.

Rose’s breath hitched, and she forced herself to laugh, though it sounded hollow. “I’m dancing with a sociopath – what do you expect?”

“I thought I was a psychopath,” he teased and even though she didn’t remember, it’s very possible she called him that at some point.

“I don’t know what the fuck you are,” she sighed, trying to avoid his gaze.

“So am I making you tense?”

Oh God, didn’t he just. Rose swallowed hard, her heart pounding as his fingers lingered at her back. His touch sent an involuntary tingle through her, and she hated herself for reacting to it. Why did everything feel so ... charged? Why was her heart racing, why did his touch elicit something within her she couldn’t even classify?

“You always make me tense,” she merely whispered, staring at him again.

He was an enigma. When she tried to figure him out now – something she wasn’t that bad in normally – she was at a loss.

He didn’t break eye contact. “Is this little dance too overwhelming for you?”

“I’m not overwhelmed,” she shot back, a little too quickly. Determined to not to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he was getting under her skin.

“Of course not,” he said, his tone light but with that familiar undercurrent of smugness. But his hand on her back suddenly drove up her spine in feather-light yet very intentional move and she almost failed to suppress her quiver. “Then why are you shaking?”

His voice was barely above a whisper, but it sent a chill down her spine. Rose’s body betrayed her, a small tremor in her hands where they rested against his shoulder. She tried to pull back, but his grip on her tightened just enough to keep her close.

“I’m not–”

“Liar,” he interrupted, his voice soft but relentless. “I can feel it, Rose. The way your heart races. The way you tense up every time I touch you.” His fingers trailed deliberately further up to her nape, sending an unwelcome shiver through her body she absolutely couldn’t hold back this time.

Her frustration flared, and she pushed against his chest, just enough to create space between them. “You’re crossing boundaries,” she muttered through clenched teeth.

“Am I?” he asked like it genuinely surprised him and shrugged dismissively, briefly looking away. “I’m not good with boundaries.” He had let her have this minimal space between them for a moment, but his grip tightened the second he locked eyes with her again. “You know this first hand, don’t you?”

The sentence chased something through her, it was both hot and cold, but either way horrifying. She felt it in her throat and at the pit of her stomach, low in her belly. There was something darker in his gaze now, something that made her pulse race. “Stop,” she whispered, not knowing what else to do.

It was the first time something in his face shifted. Like a crack in a mask. His next words still seemed calculating, and maybe they were, but she felt something raw within them. “Are you sure you want me to stop?”

Her breath hitched, and her body froze, torn between options she couldn’t even name. Her heart pounded in her chest, and for a moment, she couldn’t find the words to respond. The air between them was thick with tension, and Rose felt trapped – trapped between her anger and her confusion.

“I ...” Her voice was barely a whisper, her thoughts spinning. What did he mean? “What are you doing?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

He shrugged after a while. “Nothing,” he gave back, his gaze steady on hers.

Nothing?

“I …” she tried again. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to speak. “I need to use the loo.”

She needed to be gone.

So she wound out of his grip to walk away. The relief she felt when he let her was ineffable.

<>

Without waiting for his response, she made her way through the crowd, her legs shaky, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. She didn’t look back.

Rose found the nearest restroom and quickly pushed the door open, letting it swing shut behind her. The low hum of the party disappeared, leaving only the sound of her own breathing, ragged and unsteady. She leaned over the sink, gripping the edges tightly, her knuckles white.

What the fuck.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whispered and her heart pounded ever faster. Her body panicked, her mind wasn’t even fast enough to catch up. “Fuck!” she shouted into the air and started to pace up and down the bathroom.

She needed something. She needed to clear her head, she needed–

Her head turned towards the sink again. Twisting the faucet, she let the icy water rush out, splashing it onto her face with trembling hands. The sharp chill jolted her, helping to shake off some of the intensity that had wrapped itself around her on the dance floor. Her reflection stared back at her in the mirror, wide-eyed and shaken. Only partly aware that she was lucky her make-up was water-proof.

“What the hell was that?” she whispered to herself. Her skin still tingled where his fingers had touched her, and she could feel the lingering weight of his words pressing down on her chest.

She didn’t understand what happened, she didn’t want to understand.

It was like all her defences had crumbled, even the ones she didn’t know were an issue. Oh God, she was shaking.

Rose clenched her jaw, shaking her head in frustration. This was madness. She couldn’t let herself get tangled in whatever strange game he was playing. How did she end up in a position where she had to remind herself who he was and what he was capable of?

But maybe that wasn’t what shook her to the core.

It was that she did remember – and still let him lull her.

Rose startled as the door went open and another woman came in. She felt vulnerable, but it also helped her to focus. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. “Get it together,” she muttered, forcing herself to stand up straight. She couldn’t let him get under her skin like this. Not now, not ever.

But as she opened her eyes and stared at her reflection, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was … different. She felt different.

She sighed and wiped her face with her hands, breathing deeply, trying to steady herself. Finally, she straightened her dress and tried to calm the tremor in her hands. She had to go back out there. She couldn’t hide in here forever. But as she reached for the door, a wave of uncertainty washed over her.

How the hell was she supposed to face him? Would he keep pushing, keep pressing those buttons that made her head spin? Could she keep pretending none of it affected her?

Shaking her head, Rose pushed open the door, stepping back into the noise and warmth of the party. The music seemed louder now, the room more stifling. But she glanced around, not sure what she was looking for.

After a while, she walked towards her table. And she saw him nearby, talking to some people. She considered turning away and go somewhere else. But she decided to join the couple that had sat beside her and she found likeable. The Master glanced at her as she moved to the room, but made no move to join her. And she was glad.

<>

The evening dragged on longer than Rose had anticipated. When it was finally over – when they had smiled enough, spoken to the right people, and were more or less sure to be allowed to join tomorrow – relief washed over her.

But the heavy tension built up again, when he – for the first time since the dance floor – actively addressed her again. He wandered towards her, making it clear with his eye contact that he intended to talk to her.

Rose straightened up at her place and prepared for this moment. She noticed his tie being loose and the first button opened, as all around the etiquette seemed to loosen up. She felt deeply ashamed for being drawn to his appearance. His hand found the chair back, he bent slightly down. “This is coming to an end. We go. Upstairs.”

Yes, that shot up tension into her limbs again. She just nodded and stood up to follow him.

This whole sharing-a-room-thing had been uncomfortable for her even before this strange tension. But she pushed it away. She pushed it all way.

The Master had the key and was the one opening the room, going in first. Their accommodations weren’t luxurious, but the room they were provided for the night was like a typical hotel room. Nothing more, nothing less.

He had settled into the room with an unnerving calm. He hadn’t said a word on the whole way up. He obviously had arranged that the small table there was set up with a laptop and he turned it on. “You should get some sleep,” he said casually, not looking up.

His voice cut through the quiet, making her flinch inwardly. But he was totally right. She was utterly exhausted and at the same time totally wired. Was she supposed to be sleeping while he just sat there?

She crossed her arms over her chest, more defensive than she wanted to be. “And you?” she asked, knowing the answer but needing to fill the silence. “Gonna stay up all night plotting?”

He chuckled softly, his eyes still on the screen. “Am I not always.”

She bit her lip, nodding once, trying to sort out her next moves.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. A weight hung between them, or was it just her imagination? The room felt too small, too close and more than anything she appreciated the fact that, on the TARDIS, she could simple flee.

Eventually, the Master glanced up, his gaze flickering to her and eventually settled. He didn’t leave her out of sight as he straightened up. His hands slipped in his pockets as he stepped forwards. “Are you afraid?”

Her arms tightened, she flinched. She didn’t know anymore, if he was calculating or curious or concerned. “Why would I be afraid?”

“Because your heart is racing.”

Her eyes widened. “Stop,” she hissed. She was afraid, disgusted and annoyed and immediately got her little suitcase that was obviously stored here to flee into the bathroom afterwards.

Inside, she loosened her hair and sank onto the toilet lid to lay her head into her palms.

Did he have to empathise how his superior senses could sense and feel every bit of her? It wasn’t exactly shocking, she had been mildly aware of it through the Doctor, but the Master had never played this card before.

She groaned, but all of it didn’t matter. She was in this situation. She had to deal with it.

After showering and making herself ready for bed, she stepped out of the bathroom. She moved toward the small bed, pulling back the blanket and slipped under it. The reality of the day was starting to weigh on her, fatigue mixing with the emotional strain. She glanced over at the Master, watching as he focused on his work. He didn’t pay attention to her and she was so glad.

So when she closed her eyes, she was surprised how fast she fell asleep.

Chapter Text

It was very late yesterday, Rose didn’t even know how late. She didn’t even know how many hours a day on this planet had. But when she opened her eyes, the sun must stand high, because she squinted at the light from the window. She needed a second to orientate.

Sadly, yesterday wasn’t a dream.

She noticed the Master wasn’t in the room. So she just lay there for quite some time. Processing without clearly thinking.

The moment she heard the door, she wanted to sink into the mattress. Mainly because she ran out of steam.

“Good, you’re awake,” she heard his voice. She lazily turned around, watching him. He sat down on the bed, raising an envelope. “We’re officially invited now.”

“Great,” she murmured.

“It starts in a few hours. So do whatever it is that relaxes you, we have to get ready sooner than later.”

Honestly, she just wanted to sleep some more. “Will the device be there?”

“Yes.” He stood up, on his way out again.

“Where are you going?” She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to know.

“Networking.”

With that, he was out.

<>

The next evening came quicker than Rose had hoped. Another event, another round of pretending, and another chance for the Master to make her uncomfortable.

Rose stood in front of the mirror, frowning at the gown she wore. It was funny, because generally, she had fun dressing up. In this context, though, she felt like a doll. And she didn’t like it. The dress was deep blue, elegant, and looking expensive, but the sight of it just made her uncomfortable. She tugged at the neckline, trying to get it to sit right.

Behind her, the Master came out of the bathroom and he adjusted his cuffs in the reflection, an air of casual ease surrounding him. “Don’t fidget,” he said without even looking. “You’ll draw attention.”

Rose shot him a glare in the mirror. “It’s too tight.”

His head snapped up. “No, it’s not,” he frowned and she rolled her eyes. As if he were the one to judge this. He stepped closer, his reflection looming behind hers. His eyes flickered to her hands as she tugged again at the dress. “Besides, it suits you.”

Her eyes flinched in a surge of unease. “Don’t compliment me, you creep,” she shot back, obviously overcompensating. But it made him smirk. Of course, it was his kind of funny. “Also, I’d rather not look like a prop, thanks,” she added.

The Master raised an eyebrow, his gaze lingering on her in the mirror. “A prop?”

“Yes,” she hissed and turned around, ignoring his closeness. “Tonight, I’m dressed up to play a game I’m not good at. I’m just there.”

“You’re there so I can make sure you can work with the device. So I can scan you.”

“And if I can’t?” she tilted her head. “Do we leave?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, why not.”

She frowned, surprised it would be so easy. Her look fell down. “Then I hope it doesn’t fit with me or Bad Wolf so we can leave.” And they could call the Doctor.

“I’m sure you do,” he acknowledged what she implied.

“What would you do to me?” she searched his eyes again, suddenly wanting to hear it. Wanting to give herself a piece of her own mind concerning the sodding dance floor incident yesterday. “If I’d just walk out of here,” she clarified.

He didn’t move, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her. There was something impenetrable in his gaze, something that made her pulse quicken. She needed to hear it out loud. That he would hurt her. She needed that for her own reality check.

He reached out again, this time brushing a strand of hair from her face, and she winced slightly at the unexpected move, but otherwise didn’t budge. Not understanding what this was. Was it dominance? Simply contact? His fingers lingered near her cheek. His touch was almost tender, but there was always that edge, always something that kept her on guard. “What do you think I’d do?” he murmured.

“Oh, don’t,” she warned repulsed. “You were never shy on threats. Just let me know.”

She fought against reacting to his thumb grazing her cheek. She fought for standing her ground under his intense stare. He hinted a shake of his head, in his eyes a touch of genuine confusion. “I don’t know,” he finally whispered.

And it left her speechless.

She literally didn’t know how to react. Or how to feel.

Should she be mad? Bewildered? Should she be glad? Was she surprised?

Before she could say anything, he dropped his hand and stepped back, giving her some space. “I’ll be waiting downstairs,” he said, his voice shifting back to its usual composed tone.

Rose exhaled as he walked away, the tension in her body still simmering and the emptiness in her head still clouding. The door clicked shut behind him and she literally just stood there for one minute.

<>

She found him outside and they walked into an antechamber. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of chandeliers casting long shadows across the walls. She saw a lot of familiar faces from last night, dressed in fine clothing, but something about the atmosphere was different. A certain tension. Even a touch of menace. Especially from the people she hadn’t talked to yesterday. She noticed that they were a bunch of people that hadn’t engaged with her in the first place. She remembered that the Master had talked to at least some of them. But she hadn’t.

This was such a different vibe from what she expected. She suddenly thought that these kind of people were people you didn't cross. They were dangerous – Rose could sense it in the way they carried themselves, their eyes scanning her and the Master as they entered, judging, calculating. Reinforced by the competitive atmosphere a gambling night had. Her gut twisted. These people weren’t just wealthy elites with questionable morals. They were something darker, something more dangerous.

It was so strange, because it felt so different from yesterday and so it hit her even harder.

Yesterday was superficial.

Her fingers brushed the edge of the gown, a nervous habit she couldn’t quite shake. She glanced up at the Master, who seemed entirely at ease, his eyes sweeping the room with that controlled confidence he always exuded. There was something reassuring in how collected he looked, like he was untouchable. But more than that, she realised with a start, she was actually glad he was here. For once, having him close made her feel … safer.

The thought rattled her, needles to say. It was so sodding twisted.

There were quiet conversations, but everyone remained more or less to themselves.

They moved to a table with drinks and she slid a bit closer to him, her voice low. “Quite a different vibe, or am I imagining this?”

He lifted a bottle. “Alcohol or no alcohol?”

Rose blinked. “I have no idea.”

“Then maybe better none,” he decided and poured her something.

“Master,” she tried to get his attention, trying to signal him that she needed some reassurance that this was normal or-

His hand landed on her cheek as he leaned in. “You’re not in danger, promise,” he muttered, before she even clarified and his clear eyes were calming her for a change.

“Okay,” she said barely audible.

He nodded and the moment his palm left her face, she took a nervous sip.

After a few minutes, a tall man at the far end gestured them over, so they could go inside the actual room bit by bit. The way the air crackled with tension, you wouldn’t assume it was just a game that was happening down there.

Well, it wasn’t. It was illegal. And the things they were playing for dangerous.

As they approached the group, the Master placed a light hand on her back, guiding her forward. Also in contrast to yesterday – it grounded her. She could feel his gaze flicker to her, a silent reminder that he was right there. Absurd, yes. But she’d take it. Because out of all these people – whatever they were involved in outside of this gathering – the Master was probably still the most dangerous.

When it was their turn to pass the man, the Master gave him their invitation and he scanned it. His face was a wall. Honestly, he should play with them, he had a good poker face. Finally, he nodded and the Master took her hand to lead her past him.

There was a long tunnel they followed and Rose tried to collect herself. When they finally reached the room, it was clear this was where the game would happen. There was a round table where they would obviously sit, but also tables at the sides with snacks and beverages.

“Perfect,” the Master muttered, got his screwdriver out and let her hand go.

She noticed that in the middle of the table was something behind glass. “That’s the device?” she asked.

“Yes.” He switched from pointing at it to pointing at her.

“It’s so small.”

He raised a brow. “And?”

“I dunno,” she sighed. She didn’t know what she had expected.

He let his screwdriver sink. “Go to the table. See if you feel something.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m your track dog.”

“And such a fine one at that,” he smirked.

She sighed, but walked to the table. Without questioning it, she – after making sure no one was in front of her – activated her ring lightly. And she recognised a little sobered that the device reached out to Bad Wolf.

She shut down the ring.

He was right beside her in the meantime, and she glared at his satisfied grin. “Do you now want some alcohol?” he teased at her obvious disappointment that they would stay.

Her grin was fake. “You first have to win this game, you know.”

He waived that. “Cakewalk.”

“Braggard,” she sighed, but it had no real force behind it.

“Rose!” a familiar voice called her and she saw Ranget come closer. He straight-up reached for her hand to kiss it. He then stretched out his hand to greet the Master what he accepted. “Good to see you, too.”

Rose was a little confused by his demeanour. Everyone around here acted closed-off or like a shy doe. And he was just – normal.

“May the best man win, right?” he grinned. It was friendly, but he had something underlying she could never place.

“Oh, absolutely,” the Master countered, but she was sure by now that Ranget could detect the Master’s mocking. Maybe the Master even wanted him to know. Rose caught the Time Lord glancing after the other man as he walked to the next pair. “He’s trouble and I’m annoyed I don’t know yet in which way.”

“Why, because he’s not impressed by you or afraid of you?” she couldn’t help but tease.

He blinked at her pleadingly. “You said it yourself that something is off about him.”

“That’s probably true for all the people in this room,” she countered and after a moment, he shrugged approvingly.

Another man in the room rose to speak. “One drink, and then everyone take their seats.”

The Master’s head turned from this man to her again with a casualness in his movements that didn’t match the situation. “One drink?”

She swallowed. “I’ll take a real one this time.”

<>

They sat down at the table, in the middle of which lay a deck of cards that had already been prepared for the game. Around it, a group of men and women sat, their faces sharp with confidence. Even the woman from yesterday felt different, even thought she still seemed friendly towards her.

And then there was the Master, calmly calculated, ever in control. She could tell from the way his fingers tapped lightly on the table that he was sizing up every single person in the room, contemplating his next move before the game had even begun.

The game started slowly. It had similarities of poker, just a tad more complicated. Rose had started with a good set of cards which was probably a reason she was still in. Also, since they were playing in teams with swapping cards, the Master handed her some life rings.

But it was more than cards on the table – it was the subtle jabs at each other, a battle of wit and observation. Rose found herself focusing more on what was said than on the cards in her hand. There was a game beneath the game, and she tried not to let it slip by unnoticed. One of the men said something against the woman’s husband who wasn’t an expert on this game either. You could feel her anger. Safe to say, this man was soon out of the game. You could build alliances in this game, not all of it was something Rose kept up with. But she had a feeling these alliances were continued also after the game.

Ranget sat – again – opposite to them. Every once in a while, his lips would curve into a smile as he watched her. At first, it was harmless enough. But she soon sensed it had shifted into something different. Something that made her skin crawl. It was like he had a blurry mask. You could see something else was behind it, but couldn’t recognise what.

She noticed the Master had picked up on it, too. His jaw tensed subtly, though his expression remained neutral.

“So,” Ranget said at some point. “Quite the reputation you have. Master.”

It wasn’t the first time they took jabs at each other. Just every time a bit more.

“I thought you haven’t even heard of me,” the Time Lord answered.

“Tsk,” he made, drawing another card. “As if I wouldn’t check on you.”

“I’m flattered,” he gave back drily.

“Never heard of you, though,” he pointed at Rose. “You play alright,” he said, his voice dripping with an uncomfortable familiarity as his eyes roved over her. “But I imagine you’re more useful off the table than on.”

Rose felt a flash of confusion, but she stayed silent, waiting to see where he would take this. Honestly, she didn’t know. He was like a shapeshifter.

The Master didn’t react outwardly, his attention seemingly on the cards in his hand, but Rose could feel the subtle shift in his demeanour. The slight tightening in his posture, the faint narrowing of his eyes.

The man leaned back in his chair, taking a sip from his glass. “Did you know I’m telepathic?”

Rose’s eyes widened and she felt her heart beating faster. She glanced at the Master, he had a subtle smile, but otherwise shrugged. If he was surprised, he didn’t let it show. “So am I.”

Ranget’s eyes switched to Rose again. “A woman like you, in this kind of place … can’t imagine you’re here just for the cards. Tell me,” he flicked his gaze to the Master as he leaned on the table, his eyes cold and ruthless, “how much does she cost you?”

Rose’s breath hitched slightly, resentment flaring. But before she could say anything, the Master spoke, his voice smooth but laced with a cold undertone. “How do you speak to my wife?” he drawled, just as calculating.

“And see, this is where I don’t believe you,” he insisted. “And if you’re not married, she’s a highly paid whore and can be booked. So I won’t tell the committee that you lied and you won’t get into trouble.” He leaned back again, fully self-assured. “Everyone’s got a price. I’m just wondering if you’re willing to bargain.”

Rose’s hands tightened on her cards, feeling a sick twist of anger. She wanted to say something, to lash out, but honestly, wasn’t sure she should. The Master’s casual smile also stopped her. He was watching the man with the kind of dangerous calm that made her feel both reassured and unnerved.

Ranget, emboldened by the lack of immediate backlash, leaned in slightly, dropping his voice as if sharing a secret. “I’ve got a good offer. You trade her to me for the night, and I’ll make sure you get what you came here for. You know I have the cards you need. That’s a fair deal, isn’t it?”

The Master’s smile didn’t falter, but his eyes, usually filled with amusement or calculated intent, darkened, locking onto the man with a gaze that was all sharp edges. “She’s not for trade.” The Master’s voice dropped an octave, quieter, more dangerous now. “For she is not a whore. And I wouldn’t suggest otherwise anymore. Because I assure you – my reputation doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Rose’s heart pounded in her chest. She hated how exposed she felt, how this stranger had reduced her to a bargaining chip. But more than that, she hated how much she was relying on the Master to handle this.

“Not for trade?” Ranget called out scandalised. “Are you sure that’s your answer?”

The Master’s calmness was eery, his usual smug expression replaced by something sharper. He wasn’t biting. He refused to rise to the bait, even as the man across from them pushed harder, testing their supposed ‘marriage’. His gaze flicked between the two of them, like a predator sizing up his prey, waiting to see if they’d crack.

Rose felt the weight of the moment press down on her. Her stomach twisted, and the environment seemed to blur as her thoughts raced. This wasn’t just about getting the device anymore. The man was trying to gain control, to humiliate them both in front of the room, so they’d give in and dance to his bidding. And she didn’t know what consequences this could have if Ranget would tell it anyone of importance.

And she suddenly wasn’t sure how the Master would react. He wouldn’t let someone manipulate him, but on the other hand – what did he have to lose? He might just use her as a bargaining chip.

And she was fed up with everyone’s sick little power game.

Rose’s mind spun, the fear and anger boiling over into something reckless, something desperate to take control of a situation spiralling beyond her grasp. The Master's refusal to give in was like a wall she was momentarily grateful for, but she couldn’t just sit there and wait for it to crumble. Not when she felt cornered like this. Not when her skin was burning under the man’s gaze, his words crawling under her skin like poison.

Before she could stop herself, the words tumbled out of her mouth, sharp and defiant. “You think we lied?” she snapped, her voice stronger than she felt. And she sprung up, hands landing on the table. “Maybe we did, but not in the way you think. You don’t know shit about us!”

Ranget raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by her sudden outburst. “Oh?” he said, leaning forward slightly, eyes glittering with dark amusement. “Enlighten me, then.”

“We married on Vegas IV, the only thing that’s missing is a simple formality from my planet. And yes, that’s the big lie you’re chasing after,” she called out in disbelief. “I gotta get a drink.”

Rose turned toward the Master. His gaze snapped to hers, unreadable but intense, a flicker of surprise passing through his eyes. “You want something to drink?” She was surprised by her own growing grin, just as scheming and calculating as his often was. “Pet?” she added deliberately, the word slipped from her sly lips and she saw him mirror it. Obviously amused, maybe even appreciative towards her dark humour.

“No, thank you,” he hummed smoothly, letting her have this moment of dominance.

“Alright.” Without thinking, without giving herself time to hesitate, she made a decision. She didn’t give him a chance to react, didn’t give herself a chance to doubt what she was doing.

In a single, impulsive movement, she leaned in and kissed him.

The room seemed to fall away as their lips met. The kiss was sudden, rash. She didn’t think, she just acted, desperate to take back some semblance of control, to prove to everyone in the room – especially Ranget – that they couldn’t be toyed with. Her lips moved against his with a heat that surprised her, her pulse racing. Fuelled by the tension between them, by the panic and the inexplicable pull that had been simmering beneath the surface for a while now.

For a brief second, the Master froze, clearly taken aback by her boldness. But then, almost as if by instinct, he kissed her back and the world tilted on its axis. His hand came up, fingers brushing the side of her face, almost tender despite the intensity of the moment. Rose felt a shiver run down her spine, an unwonted heat coursing through her that had nothing to do with the dangerous situation they were in.

Her heart raced, her mind was spinning as the sensation of his mouth on hers overwhelmed her senses. She suddenly felt her heart beat up her throat and became more aware of what she was actually doing.

When she finally pulled back, her breath shaky – it had been longer in her mind than in reality – she was confused at first that he opened his eyes. That meant he had closed them. Somehow that thought made her tremble, she didn’t even know why. Maybe because it made him look dazed for a moment.

Was he?

For a tense split of second, the Master didn’t move, his fingers on her cheek didn’t. His expression was unreadable, his eyes locked onto hers in a way that made her stomach flip – deep and pervasive. Then, slowly, his lips curved into the faintest of smiles – a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, but one that held a certain understanding.

Her heart hammered in her chest, and she simply pulled back and walked away to the drinks, trying to make this casual. Like they hadn’t just kissed for the first time, but rather that it was natural for them.

“So, Ranget, you decide if you want to push this obvious gambit further,” she heard the Master in the background. “We’ve got nothing to lose. And if not – than I suggest you apologise to my wife and we move on.”

Rose’s hands trembled, when she poured herself some water and she heard Ranget’s, “We move on for now.”

Her heart was still pounding, she had trouble to screw the bottle shut, because her fingers felt weak, like she had no control over them. She was proud she went through with in, because it obviously put an end to this discussion, but she felt the aftermath more than she was comfortable with.

She walked back and sat down, putting the glass down and taking her cards back from the table. She felt like she should look at the Master for the charade, but she couldn’t, so she pretended to focus on her cards.

When she glanced up, Ranget had her fixated with a smirk. “I apologise, Rose.”

Save your breath.

She pulled herself together one last time. “We’ll talk later,” she politely let him know she wasn’t ready yet.

The rest of the game passed in a blur for her. She had to force herself to register the cards, the subtle exchanges of words around the table sometimes went over her head. It got better over time, but she craved for this evening to end.

The Master would win this game. As the final hands were played, words of acknowledgement were spoken. The glass dome in the middle of the table was lifted.

Some people were already heading outside and Rose slowly also went this way. She didn’t want to face Ranget, she didn’t want to talk, she just wanted out.

The corridor outside the card room was dimly lit and her steps echoed against the wall. Consequently, she heard confident strides approaching and expected him to catch up. She didn’t expect his hand to catch her elbow in a light yet determined touch, drawing her closer, but not stopping her from walking. “Now that,” he said, his voice low, “was convincing.”

Rose stiffened at his words, unsure whether to feel irritated or embarrassed. She couldn’t tell if he was mocking her, or if he was genuinely impressed by her initiative.

“It worked, didn’t it?”

The Master’s smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, his eyes gleaming with something she couldn’t quite place. “I’m not scolding you.”

“I did what I had to,” Rose muttered, her voice quieter than she intended. She focused on the hallway ahead, not his face as he walked beside her. “I couldn’t just sit there and let that creep talk about me like that and risk …” She swallowed, the pressure of the whole situation suddenly weighted down on her again.

“Risk what?”

She exhaled in an attempt to steady herself. “I wasn’t sure what you’d do. If you decided to suddenly trade me off.”

She felt his steps falter briefly. He didn’t let go of her arm, using it to finally stop her and walk in front of her a second later. She needed a moment to really look at him. “Did I give you that impression?”

She hesitated. “No,” she said faintly when she thought back at the situation. “But in case you haven’t noticed – you’re unpredictable. One second, you act one way, and the next, you act another.”

“You’re aware why he did it, aren’t you?” he wanted to make sure. “Ranget lashed out because he knew he was loosing and he tried to force an alliance. By using leverage. Giving in to this was never an option.”

She huffed, no idea why she felt a sudden bitterness. “You could have said it wasn’t an option, because it’s revolting.”

She wanted to step further, but he held her arm, not letting her leave, leaning in. “I wasn’t lying. You’re not for trade.”

Her pulse quickened. There was something possessive in the way he said it, something she felt uncomfortably creep up her spine. She hated the way her body reacted to his closeness, how it made her feel so unsettled.

She stepped back, needing space. “Well, I decided to take that into my own hands. Because … you don’t get to decide that,” she shot back, her voice trembling mainly with anger. “I’m not yours.”

His smile returned, knowing they had argued about it before, but it was softer now, less mocking. He watched her carefully, his gaze never leaving hers. “However that be,” he said slowly yet clearly, leaving that argument open, “tonight, you were mine to protect.”

Any words she might have had got caught in her throat, as he confused her again, like so often lately. She had no idea how to take his words anymore for she felt they were in a tangled mess, filled with bewilderment and things unsaid.

But however their dynamic would shift, she realised something. She shrugged, shaking her head as if it was crystal clear. “That changes nothing.”

The statement hung between them for it was true. And they both knew it. It didn’t matter what they would do, how they’d behave – their situation would forever be fucked up.

She started to walk again and he let go of her. Even though he followed her shortly after.

Rose felt like she could breathe a bit lighter, when she finally left this ‘inside room’ and came to the grand ballroom from yesterday. Today almost empty. She felt a mix of relief and exhaustion settling over her as she looked at the exit. She was glad to get to his TARDIS again.

She turned around, he strolled right behind her. “We go, yeah?” she made sure and was glad he nodded. They walked towards the door. And Rose suddenly noticed a remote turmoil. The Master did too, obviously, because both of them stopped and looked in the same direction. And out of nowhere – an ear-splitting explosion ripped through the air. The force of it shook the walls, sending debris crashing around them. Rose barely had time to register the sound before the Master collided with her, shoving her to the ground as his body shielded her. The heat from the blast seared the air around them, and the world turned into a haze of smoke and chaos.

For a moment, all Rose could hear was the ringing in her ears, the echo of the explosion still reverberating in her skull. Her heart raced as she gasped for breath, her body pinned beneath his. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision through the swirling dust that made her eyes burn.

What the fuck just happened?

She heard screams, shouts and more explosions. Felt the earth quake.

The Master tried to prop himself up with a groan, his jaw clenched in pain, but his eyes sharp and focused. “You alright?” he rasped, his voice tight and rough.

She vaguely realised he had thrown himself at her on purpose. The explosion had been right there. “Yeah, I think so.” Her voice trembled and as he got up, she pushed herself on her shaky legs, his hand on her elbow helping, but maybe also steadying himself. She saw him wince. “Are you okay?” she automatically asked.

“I’m fine,” he said quickly and led her to the exit. There was a strain in his movements, and as they both stumbled away from the scene, heading outside the door and toward the TARDIS.

“What just happened?” she tried to wrap her head around it.

Another stifled groan escaped him. “Someone in there must have pissed somebody off, that’s all.”

That’s all.

No big deal, then.

The Master rustled in his pocket as they made it to the TARDIS door, and his heavy breath was more and more noticeable to her. Something was wrong.

They stumbled inside, he threw the door shut and headed to the control panel. He literally fell on the console, making the TARDIS fly away, and then crashed on his knees on the ground. Winding and groaning as he peeled out of his suit jacket.

“Master?” she asked, totally overwhelmed and confused. Then, she saw how the dark stain of blood seeped through his white shirt, colouring his whole back. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding in sudden realization. “Your back,” she exclaimed in shock, the picture so gory, the rush in her ears came back to full force.

“Yeah,” he squeezed out through gritted teeth, his breathing laboured, his trembling fingers impatiently unbuttoned his shirt. “Gotta hurry, actually. The substance in the explosion is gonna burn the shirt into my skin.” He obviously tried to strip off the shirt as well, his face pale but set with determination. Disrupted by another groan as he failed. The crimson got darker. “Pull it away,” he commanded without looking at her, no place for doubt.

She still hesitated, her eyes wide, her heart hammered as she tried to understand it. “It’ll hurt,” she whispered, not sure she understood.

His eyes found hers, dark but unwavering. “I said pull it away, Rose.”

She swallowed hard, her throat tight as she reached for the fabric, grasping the edge of his shirt on his neck. At first carefully peeling it away from his wound. He outright winced, roaring against his teeth. “It’s gotta go fast, so pull!”

She just reacted. One hard pull ripped the clothing away from his skin, probably taking most of it with it. His scream filled the room and then his body sagged unconsciously on the ground.

His world turned black.

Chapter Text

The Master felt himself swim out of the darkness. He woke slowly, the TARDIS gently greeted him mentally, reaching out to him. It calmed him in the light of feeling disorientated. He obviously had passed out, but he wasn’t on the floor anymore, feeling something soft underneath him. He lay on his stomach.

The sterile smell of the infirmary filled his senses as he blinked, his vision sharpening as the bright lights of the medical bay came into focus. The very fleeting try to stretch his limbs made him aware of how heavy and sore his body was. Especially his back that must have severe injuries.

With that thought, he registered for the first time a rhythmic hum different from the TARDIS’s. Right above him. He knew that sound belonged to the dermal regenerator. He was right were he was supposed to be.

He turned his head slightly, his eyes searching. And there she was, sitting in a chair not that far away, her arms folded, her legs crossed, her expression closed-off.

He couldn’t help the weak smile due to this unusual situation. This was not quite their common arrangement. “How did I end up here?” he asked curiously, his voice dragged a bit.

“The TARDIS helped me, but let me tell you, getting your arse here wasn’t easy.” Her tone was matter-of-factly.

She could have just let him lie there. He couldn’t even be offended if she would have, honestly. “Why did you do it?” he asked reserved.

Now she flinched, uncertainty flickering through her features. She was getting better at her poker face, but she was an emotional person, and, more importantly, she liked being an emotional person. “You …” she hesitated, “you threw yourself in front of me … without even thinking.” He could see her mind working. Considering if her natural empathy was wasted on him. “I mean, I know it’s because you need me …” she shook her head lightly, her lids sank. “Maybe I’m just stupid.”

Or just naive. But for whatever reason, something compelled him to disagree with her. “You’re not stupid, Rose.”

Her look turned up, her face serious with a little frown. Trying to read him. She was better at it than he wanted to admit. But lately, she seemed to be more in doubt with her assumptions. He saw it shift. Her vulnerability stepped back as she held up her head a little. “I tried to contact the Doctor.”

He didn’t know why. What exactly it was that evoked his reaction. But he felt coldness. His eyes darkened, his fingers on the bed tightened. He felt a familiar rush of fury. Wanting to lash out. Make her understand that this shit wouldn’t fly with him. Show her her sodding place.

“If that reassures you,” she suddenly added.

As if she had seen his darkness. Reminding him that of course she would try to get out, despite any empathy she might show towards him. And it was understandable. Honestly, despite his first instincts, he kind of respected her for it. Her relentlessness.

She had learned how to handle him. Which was a little embarrassing.

He felt his eyes soften. Of course this had been an opportunity she had to use. “I’d be surprised if the message got out,” he still voiced. The TARDIS was annoyingly supporting of Rose, testing and even crossing his limits. But he had made sure by now that he was the only one sending signals.

Maybe she was disillusioned. Maybe she hoped he lied.

She leaned back with a sigh, rubbing her hands on her thighs. “Maybe I got lucky for once.”

He couldn’t help it, he grinned.

“You said something about a substance in the explosion,” she changed the topic, maybe with intention. “What did it do?”

He took a small breath. “Explosions with caustic substances. It acid-treats through everything and makes things melt into your flesh.”

“Blimey,” she huffed with disgust in her face.

“Yes. The TARDIS took the right steps, though.”

She nodded, contemplating something. Her eyes skimmed to all sides in thought. But apparently, she decided not to address whatever she had in mind. “Well, since the TARDIS is taking really good care of you, I’ll leave.” With that she stood up to get out of the room.

He was way too tired to encounter something. He shouldn’t move the next hours anyway.

<>

He moved so fucking slow, it was annoying. But the pain shot through his nerve endings despite any pain killers. The acid didn’t come far, his inner organs were more or less undamaged. His skin, however, was a different story.

He had to test the waters, though. So he tried to sit up on his bed. He didn’t trust Rose and he didn’t trust the TARDIS not to help her.

He already felt her annoyance.

“Shut up, you can’t be trusted with her, you’ve proven that,” he muttered, trying to stand up.

Accusation.

The pain shot though his whole body, when he tried to shift his weight on one foot and he immediately sat back on the bed again. Additionally testy with his ship. He let his head sink, his hands grabbed the edge of the mattress. “I’m not discussing this with you now,” he sighed.

An incorporeal eye-roll.

“Don’t be annoying,” he called out peevishly. And suddenly he discovered a little mirror on his bed. He couldn’t help it, he laughed. “Touché,” he granted.

Familiarity. Warmth.

He swallowed, sending it back to her. He knew. They’ve got a long history.

He didn’t expect Rose to burst into the infirmary. “I give up, I don’t get this stupid thing to work.”

He blinked, no idea what she meant, until she saw a small device in her hand. The one they acquired in the game. His eyes tightened, his mouth crooked in a sceptical yet amused manner. “You’re playing with this?”

“I feel it, I just don’t see how I can actually use it. What’s a mirror doing in your bed?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Keeping yourself company?” she quipped.

“Aren’t we cheeky,” he shot back in good humour. “What’s with the sudden enthusiasm?”

She sighed, her look fell down in an attempt to avoid him. “If that’s what’s between me and my freedom, I want it to work.”

“Who says that it is?”

Her head snapped up, outrage flaring in her features.

His lips curled into a smirk. “Just kidding, of course,” he drawled sarcastically enough to keep her in suspense.

She snapped. “You’re an arsehole!”

She twirled around, but he caught her wrist. “Hey,” he pulled her back, but she struggled.

“Let go,” she breathed and he saw tears forming in her eyes.

“No,” he outright refused her and pushed through the pain in his back to not let her out of his grip. He was in no condition to run after her when she’d flee. He had her left wrist and right shoulder in his hands. She froze, staring stubbornly down to the side. “I said I was kidding.”

To be honest, he didn’t know if he told the truth. She didn’t know either. But she needed to hear it anyway.

She took a breath. And another. Then she faced him again. Her stare had something resentful underneath the hurt.

She wouldn’t ask him, wouldn’t press him. Not now.

He offered her a placating smile. “Show me the device.”

She hesitated. Then lifted her hand and opened it. He dared to let her arms go and took it from her. “I can show you how to use it,” he said softly. “Mentally.”

Again, her lids sunk. “I don’t want you in my head right now,” she mumbled.

He hated feeling a little lost inside at that statement. But they were in each other’s heads a lot lately, with their work. Much more than their initial once-a-week deal. And the last time has been four days ago.

He convinced himself to nod. “Okay.”

With that, she turned around without looking at him. And left the room.

<>

The Master experimented with the device the following time. He didn’t fully understand it himself and honestly wasn’t sure if it would suffice. But it was their best shot for now. He stayed in the infirmary where he could work with the dermal regenerator in his back. Like a giant heat lamp he carried around.

He made some progress in understanding it. Using it. And he itched to take it a step further.

With Rose. Showing her how good this could work. How powerful this could be. They could be.

He sprung up and headed straight to the door.

He already felt the TARDIS pressuring him, but he shoved it away. He wanted to try it out. This could be potentially huge.

She’s asleep.

His head was clouded, not really taking his ship’s warning into account. Threatening to slip into a tunnel vision. It happened.

The repetition of the warning made his head shake. “I’ve woken her up before,” he dismissed it, targeting her door right in front of him.

He didn’t expect a sharp pressure against his mind, like a shrill cry. He flinched, ready to shout back at the TARDIS, but he felt her being so serious like she seldom was.

Don’t lie to yourself.

The Master felt rage. Defiance. How dare you?

The TARDIS reacted disparagingly to his threat. Empathising her point.

He was angry. At his ship, but also at himself. Hating that the picture of her teary eyes was suddenly popping up in his head. This wasn’t the TARDIS, he knew that was all him. It still surprised him, was still a stick in his craw.

In his mind, he could just go in there and erase this memory with another one.

He saw her door. And walked closer. Already feeling his ship’s warning again.

He wanted it. Go inside.

And he always had trouble denying himself his wishes. His impulses. He had trouble understanding why this was bad, as his flat hand touched the door.

But if he wasn’t allowed to wake her up, maybe there was another way of reaching out to her. Making himself forget and stop the picture of her tears haunting him.

Her sweet, innocent dreams.

His forehead landed on the door.

Oh, how long it’s been since he slipped into her dreams, felt her inner, unconscious, most intimate thoughts and feelings, crawled into them like they were a nest. And she didn’t even need to know. He had played with them, yes, but he could also just enjoy it.

In the background, he heard the mental sirens of his ship, being on red alert. He snickered, mainly because he felt it being a sarcastic display of her tapping her forehead a him.

He wouldn’t do it.

He could show Rose his finding later.

<>

Two days later – his pain was at least endurable with pain killers – he walked into the living room to hang out, being somewhere else than the infirmary. And despite Rose really liking this room, he didn’t expect to find her there right now.

She sat on the couch, curled up under a blanket, her elbow on the armrest and her chin propped on her loose fist. Reading a book. She didn’t react to his presence. He observed her for a moment, seeing how she nestled up. She changed her wardrobe a lot since she came aboard, with the TARDIS obviously providing her with everything she needed or wanted. In quiet moments like this, she often wore soft clothes, like the blue hoodie she had right now. When they worked, she mostly still wore everyday clothes like jeans, but even then she sometimes switched to sweat pants. It was her way to make herself more comfortable.

He observed the way her hair fell into her face and her eyes behind it skimmed as she read. She partly didn’t react, because she accustomed to him being around, but he saw some anger in her features as well. Some desperate attempt to detach herself from all this.

In some fleeting moments, he could acknowledge that he didn’t make it easy for her.

In some moments, he could acknowledge that there were other ways.

Options that – once he had started exploring them – shifted back and forth in his mind.

There was still one day left until it would have been a week since their last mental encounter. And he wasn’t even sure if their deal still held up in its original form, because a lot had changed since then, in small and big ways. They implicitly adapted their rules without actually enunciating them.

But either way – he wanted her to say yes. Now.

Was it a challenge? For her or even only for himself? He didn’t know and didn’t care, he just wanted it.

He walked up to her and plopped down next to her on the couch. His head turned her way. She blinked a bit faster, then glanced at him. “What?”

He stretched out his fist, and by opening, revealed the device in question.

He heard her quiet sigh. Or was it a moan?

She stared back at her pages, but he noticed she didn’t read. She tried to collect herself.

He let his arm sink. “You were right.” Predictably, she looked at him again, gauging him. “This is an alliance of convenience. And we both want the job done. That’s it. So can we continue to do that?” Her face opened up a little more, her wall of hardness softening just a bit. He sent her a smile, one he actually felt. “It worked quite well these last weeks. Didn’t it?”

Another sigh, and she let the book sink and her head thudded behind onto the backrest, so her hair fell back, revealing her throat. Seeing it move when she swallowed. “You’re exhausting,” she mumbled, her eyes stared at the ceiling.

He always had to smile a bit when she outright stated her thoughts towards him. He decided to stretch out his hand again, moving it somewhat in front of her in an inviting nature. “Yes?” he prompted playfully. “No?”

“Fine.” She shut the book close and straightened up, turning towards him with her crossed legs. That he got her to agree brought him deep satisfaction. Or something else. It just felt good.

He looked at the pile of blanket between them. “I get that it’s cosy, but get rid of that.”

She rolled her eyes, but grabbed it to put it behind her. He mirrored her crossed legs. “I don’t want to fix any rifts today,” she caught his attention. “Just show me how it works.”

“Since we need the Chronon-Anchor for fixing rifts anyway, that in fact wasn’t my intention. I think you simply need a soft nudge in the right direction to connect to the device. That’s the only goal right now.”

She missed a beat, and then nodded once. Like she was surprised he could be reasonable. He tried not to be offended by that. Instead, a subtle smile rested on his lips as he observed her, waiting for the next step, questioning him. He hinted at her hand. “Use your ring.”

He saw the nervous flicker of her eyes, but she then – carefully – turned on her ring. And a light gold emerged in her eyes, filling her iris, fully visible to him when she looked up again.

He got caught up in watching her for a second, the gold matching her skin and hair. It was kind of fascinating, seeing this much power in such a tiny body. It was still restrained if course. Letting it all out would kill her. But she could handle this level astonishingly well. She shouldn’t, it was against all odds. But she did.

He didn’t push down his impulse to reach for her hand. But it hovered a moment, before he decided to drop his one off a bit higher, right above her wrist. He carefully turned her arm around, so its underside revealed. He definitely caught her light catch of her breath, even though it was soundless, but her mouth opened in an attempt to tame her sensations.

He knew she was sensitive when in this state. He knew these sensations were messing with her mind.

He liked it.

He liked how driving his thumb down her arm to her wrist made her tense, yet hypnotized. How it made her pulse quicken. He had caused this reaction from the beginning of course. It just was fascinating to him when it wasn’t fear for once that made her heart pound. Either way – he liked playing her like that. At first, he didn’t particularly care whether or how he touched her, he didn’t even notice. It still happened. But there were moments when he deliciously noticed.

He lay the device into her open hand and then let go. She watched the device, obviously trying to understand it. He moved slowly, eventually taking her face in his hands. At first only his fingertips and he saw her lids flutter. She tried to calm her breathing and he revelled in it. He gently nudged her head to look at him. And she hesitantly did. Her glowing eyes at first absent, and then searching for him as he cradled her cheeks. Again, her lips parted and she stared at him, gauging and questioning behind being flooded with sensations she didn’t understand. Frowning at him, but also waiting for his move.

He wouldn’t lie, he liked how she waited for him in these moments, how he set the pace and she just responded. Psychically. Mentally. He liked being in control. So why was the moment of her taking control suddenly in his mind for a second? His eyes flickered to her lips only for a fleeting moment.

She had balls to kiss him like that. Twisting the situation so she’d come out on top. Kudos for that. She actually had surprised him, he hadn’t expected it. But even then – admittedly, after he had caught up – she had reacted to him. He had felt her quick pulse there too, on her soft lips. Tasted her adrenaline. Felt her breath hitch when he had cupped her face. And while he enjoyed that he still had influence on her in such a situation, he wondered why these memory snippets popped up in his mind once in a while. Also her calling him pet was just his kind of humour. This moment also lived rent-free in his head.

Like he had said. She had balls. Credit where credit was due.

The next moment, he slipped into her mind.

He took his time, in no hurry at all. Her eyes immediately fell shut as he slowly wound around her thoughts and emotions. Feeling her feeble attempt to hide some of it from him or to refocus. She wasn’t particularly bad at it, actually using some rudiments that were promising. He still found them all, every impulse and mood swing. And he caught them all. Even the less coherent ones.

And then, he carefully parted them. His lids automatically closed as well. Maybe to concentrate. Maybe to just feel. But he felt her squirm for a moment. A little more than ordinarily, more than all these last times. And he considered asking about it. But he didn’t feel like talking right now. So he just sent her assurance. His promise that it was all right. His honesty about it. Because right now, he meant it. And it palpably soothed her. She took a deep, long breath and he felt her mind calm down.

So he sunk himself into her. In a way that was familiar by now, a way that he could let himself go for just a millisecond. And he felt himself reaching out within her as he settled just a bit deeper.

He heard her hiss, but she wasn’t in pain. He still felt that her eyes had opened. And he mirrored it, his lids a bit heavy.

She stared at him. Her golden eyes wide and filled with confusion. Asking questions she herself didn’t even know. He felt her heavy breath and he couldn’t quite stop biting his lower lip, as her big eyes did something to him. She was begging him and didn’t even know for what. To continue? To stop? Incoherent thoughts of What are you doing? And Stop! flew through her mind, but at the same time she didn’t want to break this off.

She was afraid, he was aware. His fault, obviously. But right now, he didn’t want her scared. So he sent her his pledge that she was safe. In this moment, she was safe. He must have sent it with such conviction, she unexpectedly shuddered and he only partly voluntarily mirrored it. Biting back a moan, but hearing hers.

His eyes fell shut again and he leaned in, only barely not touching her forehead with his. His thumbs driving over her cheeks made her shiver. And he shielded his emerged impulse to drive in deeper. It was probably wrong and it would definitely freak her out, which meant shielding this part of him was successful. But he felt it. How the memories of sliding in deeper to her most inner thoughts tickled and teased him. Would be so easy too. She had barely any defences. He could just spread her open and feel her close.

He lastly nudged his head against hers, the vision unimaginably tempting to him. And while she didn’t feel his intentions exactly, he felt her pulse quicken, because she might feel him buzz. He was annoyed. That she somehow always could sense him, despite him shielding himself. She just flew through his safeguards and it was irritating. He hasn’t found a way around this yet.

Okay. Back to business. And not just because he heard the TARDIS warn him again. He wouldn’t sink deeper anyway. Yet.

So he took her mental hand to lead her towards the device. It was already reaching out to her, that was what she had felt. But for it to connect with her, she had to be more active. Taking a step towards it. Similar to when he had prompted her to take a step towards him in the past. She knew this. He just showed it to her in a slightly new context.

She picked up on it fast. She honestly had a talent for handling Bad Wolf. For a human. She reached out to it and it clicked. Her breath hitched and he felt her being in awe. She took it in for a moment. Sensing the device’s potential. Becoming more familiar with it.

He let her for a little while, before slowly ending this. Pulling back, until gradually slipping out. A sigh escaped her mouth and he lingered, his hands still on her temples, his forehead still touching hers. After a breath, he drew back, leading her face, prompting her to look at him. And she did.

She was in her post-connecting daze, mixed with confusion that so often showed in her face lately. He suppressed a grin. “Easy, innit?” he teased.

She missed a beat. “Cakewalk.”

He let that grin out.

She hesitantly pulled back, partly trying to get out of his grip. His first impulse was to tighten his fingers, but he fought against it, haltingly letting go. She drew back, her eyes darting around for a moment. She looked little lost, but not agitated. He simply observed her, until her lips parted and her eyes found his again. “I’d just,” she said quietly, “like to read my book now.”

The words were so timid yet matter-of-factly. And he nodded, not getting out a response. Not wanting to cut through the fragile silence for some reason.

She nodded too and shifted back, pulling the blanket back over her legs and reached for the book.

He ended up taking his laptop to work, considering if he should go for a brief moment, but he didn’t want to. That she happened to like this room too wasn’t his concern. The fact whether her being here or not made a difference in his decision and in which way only fleetingly touched his thoughts. He made a curious note though, that she was comfortable enough to not leave the room.

Absorbed in his own work for a while, he at first didn’t notice how much his presence didn’t seem to bother her. Or it was just exhaustion. But when he glanced over after a few hours to state he needed to go to the lab, she lay there with her eyes closed. Her head on the armrest, the blanket over her shoulders and her fingers still in the pages of the book.

It was a peculiar sight.

Her being so consciously vulnerable around him. He was confused by it, to be honest. But, as he found, also strangely drawn to it. He liked her vulnerable, no question. But did this explain why his glance continued to linger on her?

Chapter Text

When Rose blinked her eyes open, she faced the fireplace. She obviously had fallen asleep. She stretched her limbs, then she glanced down on the other side of the couch.

It was empty.

She was glad, honestly. The memory of last night was like a fever dream. One she didn’t want to think too closely about. She wanted to know how that bloody device worked, because she wanted this to end. She still hoped her message to the Doctor got out even though she didn’t quite believe it did. But if she couldn’t contact the Doctor – she needed this to end in another way.

She still didn’t know if this was her way out. She had assumed he had no reason to keep her captive anymore when they worked this out, but he tarnished this hope right away.

Truth was – she didn’t know. What he would do to her. If he’d set her free again. If she had any chance or any hope.

She hated it.

He had tried to dismiss his statement, but she knew better than to simply believe him. Maybe he would keep her to continue tormenting the Doctor.

If the Doctor hadn’t just forgotten about her.

A deep dread settled low in her stomach.

Her mind was mess. Compared to the beginning, she had more ‘liberties’ than ever, but at the same time she was no step further. Her achievement felt empty.

She threw the blanket aside and stood up to search for him. She trusted the TARDIS to let the right door appear. She wasn’t ready, not really, didn’t know the right words yet. Didn’t know how to bargain skilfully. She still wanted that confrontation.

Rose recognised the laboratory’s door. Last time he wasn’t really okay with her being there, but obviously his ship had other ideas.

The room was brighter than last time. Still chaotic.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” he commented the second he threw something carelessly through the room.

But what caught her attention were his goggles, all black. The only thing missing was electricity mirroring in them. “You look like a mad scientist,” she noted.

His grin widened, showing his teeth as he turned to her. “I am a mad scientist.”

She hated when she had to bite back an actual grin. “True.”

He pulled them off, putting them on a table. “A few seconds earlier and you could have gone blind.”

“I’m sure the TARDIS factored that in.” Rose frowned. “What were you doing?”

“Just following a whim. Didn’t work out.” He shrugged, then took her in. Taking a step closer. “Slept okay then?”

His voice got a tad softer at that last question and it immediately brought tension to her limbs. She tried not to flinch as she tried to understand these switches of his. Why did he pretend to care and why did it influence her that way? “Fine,” she got out. “Under the circumstances.”

“Are you ready for the next step then?”

Of course. He had to humour her so she’d continue. She took a quiet, but deep breath. “And what if that next step doesn’t work?” He frowned and she decided to elaborate. “This thing is no guarantee and you know it.”

His stare changed. Like he understood but didn’t like it. “Nothing is guaranteed,” he almost hissed.

“Yeah, but there are differences in probability,” she reminded him, trying to keep her annoyance out of her tone and failing.

“Rose,” he warned, the corners of his mouth twitched to a testy grin.

“Are you afraid the Doctor won’t help?” she tried to understand. “Or that he’ll try to capture you?”

“Oh, he certainly will try,” he didn’t even doubt it. “If he has the chance.”

“So you’re afraid.”

He chuckled and his eyes were dark. “Oh Rose, you should know better than that.”

Her name had rolled off his tongue in a way that made her skin crawl or was it mainly his menace oozing? “But if you’re not afraid, why avoid it?”

He rolled his eyes and started to head to the door. “I won’t entertain this fantasy of yours.”

“Fantasy?” she gasped and followed him. “It’s logic.”

“Rose!” He twirled around and she almost crashed against him. “It won’t happen, get that into your head.” He turned around, before she could say something.

“You are unbelievable,” Rose huffed, trailing after him as he stalked down the corridor. “Stubborn and close-minded.”

“And you are naive and insufferable,” the Master shot back without missing a beat.

“Good,” she provoked him. “Get the Doctor, fix this and get rid of me. It’s that easy.”

“Go to your room or wherever,” he sighed annoyed while continuing walking.

It didn’t sound like a threat which made her follow him further. “Not until we talk this out.”

The next door that appeared was the infirmary one. “There’s nothing to discuss,” he insisted. “Only you getting on my nerves.”

Rose stepped inside just as he reached for a dermal regenerator. It looked like a handy one, not the big one he had at first. Before she could fire off another retort, he yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it onto the counter.

Rose froze. Absolutely not expecting this scenario and it cut her short.

It was both him standing there calm and unbothered and seeing his scarred back. His skin looked much better than before. For once, there was skin again. And it wasn’t an open wound anymore. It was still evidently damaged. No matter what, she felt like she wasn’t supposed to be here.

For a second, she couldn’t look away.

He glanced at her through a mirror. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

Rose snapped herself out of it, clearing her throat. “I just – warn a girl next time before you start stripping.”

The Master didn’t even glance at her, focused on adjusting the settings of the dermal regenerator. “You followed me, remember? Not the other way around. I told you to go away.”

Rose huffed, but her gaze flickered over his back again, somehow not knowing what else to do. “You’re still scarred,” she said before she could stop herself.

The Master finally met her eyes in the mirror again, arching a brow. “They’ll fade with time.” His voice was dismissive, like it was just a fact, nothing more.

Rose frowned. “Will they? Those were heavy burns.”

There was something withdrawn in his expression before he looked away. “Most things do.”

Rose wasn’t sure if he was talking about his wounds or something else entirely.

He adjusted the dermal regenerator, then found her eyes through the mirror again. “Since you’re already here, you might as well make yourself useful.” He tipped his head toward the device in his hand. “Some spots are hard to reach, but this device is more effective than the area-covering one.”

Rose blinked, feeling dumbstruck for a moment. She should probably just leave. Pretend this whole thing wasn’t happening. But she didn’t move.

She vaguely realised that was probably why he did it. To get rid of her.

With a sigh, she stepped forward instead, taking the regenerator from him. “Fine. But if this explodes in my hand, I’m telling.”

He smirked but said nothing.

She started carefully between his shoulder blades, tracing the device over the raw, reddened patches of skin. The hum of the regenerator filled the quiet between them. Close like this, she could see everything. Some of these scars seemed older than others. Maybe they just healed differently. But maybe those were indeed older ones.

She wasn’t sure why she did it, why she felt mesmerised for a moment, but her fingers absentmindedly grazed his skin. His muscles tensed under her touch. If it was in pain or something else, she didn’t know and he didn’t say.

Rose realised it a second later. How quiet the room suddenly really was. How there was a shift in the air she couldn’t name but feel. Her fingertips lingered, just barely. The noise of the device almost unreal. She swallowed. “There are older ones,” she murmured, almost absently.

He hummed, she felt the faint vibration of his back. His voice was quieter now. “It happens.”

A beat of silence stretched between them. Neither of them moved.

She could feel his breath, steady but measured. She almost had to force herself to let the device wander over his back. Her fingertips still on his skin as if she needed that contact to steady herself.

She should pull away. She should give him the device and tell him to do it himself.

She swallowed again, trying to focus. She had stayed for a reason. “If we got the Doctor involved,” she began, voice soft, careful.

“Don’t,” he interrupted her. His words quiet, but sharp.

“We need him,” Rose insisted, still calm. “He could–”

“Save you?”

She blinked. And swallowed. Of course bloody save me.

The Master turned his head just slightly, just enough that she could see the edge of his profile. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” he challenged. “You don’t care about strategy, or what makes more sense. You just want your Doctor to swoop in and pull you out of this.”

She sighed, not able to deny it and not even wanting to. But still. “I also want what’s best for the universe.”

That made him exhale a quiet chuckle. “How noble of you.”

Her fingers tightened slightly against his skin. “You think I don’t mean it? You blackmailed me with this.”

“I think you don’t only mean it.”

Rose was about to snap something back. That she had every right to. Of course she wanted to be free. What did he expect? But before she could, the Master shifted. Her hands fell to her sides, when he turned around, slowly, deliberately. No step back, just as close as before, but now facing her.

She could see everything, his brown calculating eyes, the way his mouth twitched at the corners like he was daring her to keep going.

“With the Doctor, we could solve this,” she brought herself to say, but her words were only a whisper.

“I don’t want to talk about the Doctor anymore,” he murmured, voice lower now.

She didn’t know why this made her pause. Hearing her own heartbeat in her ears. She barely managed to find her voice. “Why?”

His mouth twitched into a hidden smirk. “Just because,” he murmured.

Before she could push, before she could dissect the meaning behind those words, he moved – intentionally raising his hand. She both expected and didn’t expect it. His fingers brushed against her cheek, barely there, the touch so careful that it sent a shiver down her neck.

Rose froze.

He did it again. Creating affinity with his touch like he did on that party. But there wasn’t an audience this time, was there?

So what the fuck was this? Was this seeking connection? Marking possession? And why did she react like that, like it took her breath away, like he sent electricity through her skin into her veins. Like she couldn’t move. She wondered now if all those moments had opened some kind of door. Some sick, twisted door.

His fingertips moved gently down her jaw, so very slowly. Her lips parted, forcing herself to say something. “That wasn’t an answer.”

His gaze flicked over her face, his expression like he savoured everything about this. “Wasn’t it?” he murmured, teasingly.

She wanted to ask. What he was doing. Why he was doing it. “I mean it,” she merely whispered.

“I know you do,” he assured her, his faint mocking not as malicious as she was used from him.

She couldn’t encounter something. The ship rattled out of nowhere, Rose stumbled almost to the ground, catching herself on a table. She knew what happened by now. “The shield!” she called out.

He grabbed the dermal regenerator out of her grip and took her hand to pull her along. “Yes, come on.”

They ran. Out of the room and towards the control room. He let go of her hand as soon as she caught up. The ground shook when they entered and Rose tried to reach the Chronon-Anchor, but something exploded, pushing her back.

She crashed on the hard floor, groaning, eyes screwed shut. She felt his hands on her, turning her around. “Rose?”

“I’m fine,” she moaned, trying to pick herself up again. He helped and sprung to the console as soon as she was back on her feet. Her hand landed on the display, she activated her ring and she saw lights. Smoothing them over, trying to gain back balance, to shield them from the Wraiths. She slipped a few times, groaning annoyed and nervous, feeling the ship shake.

Focus.

She tried again. This time, she saw the lights align, spanning a shield all around them.

And the ship got quiet again.

Rose opened her eyes and separated her hand from the panel.

She heard the Master pace around behind her and she felt something … off. The ship’s noise was different. She turned around. “Something’s wrong with the TARDIS.”

He strode from one console to another, tense. “Yes.”

“What is it?”

“She’s damaged.” He went back to the round console in the middle, sat down and opened a panel, revealing cables and blinking lights. The whistle of his screwdriver activated. After a moment, the whistle stopped and he groaned. He missed a beat, then stood up to go to a table nearby. There were clothes and he put on a shirt again. Rose wasn’t sure if those had been there before, but the TARDIS probably had placed them there.

She frowned as he turned around with a coat in his hand, throwing it at her. She clumsily caught it. “Here, you’ll soon need it,” he said while sitting down in front of the removed panel again.

“Why?” she frowned.

“Because it’ll get cold,” he answered without looking back. “Real cold.”

She blinked. Holding the thick jacket and didn’t know what to do for a moment. He continued working, not telling her to leave or anything. “Can I help?” she asked.

“Doubt it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sorry I asked.”

“No harm done,” he quipped.

She huffed, almost grinning. “Should I leave?”

“I wouldn’t recommend it.” He opened a plate from the ground, apparently getting tools and instruments out of there. “Parts of the ship probably already begin to freeze. I rerouted the warmth into this room, but it won’t hold for long.”

And just like that, she noticed in fact that it was colder. Her arms started to get goosebumps. With a sigh, she put on the coat and sat down on the floor where there was a step, leading to the central console. Waiting.

<>

He wasn’t kidding about the temperature. At first, she decide to zip up her jacket. Then, she put on the hood. After a while, she took a blanket from the same table her coat had come from. And even then, she started shivering.

He had a coat on as well in the meantime, but it was still unzipped. “Don’t you get cold?” she wondered.

“I can endure a lot more than you do,” he said without looking up.

“The walls actually start to freeze,” she pointed out.

“Well observed.”

She couldn’t help it. “Plan to do anything about it?” she snapped at his patronising tone.

At that, he turned his head. “What do you think I’m doing?”

“As far as I know – nothing.”

“You’re a brash little prisoner,” he continued working.

“I thought you admitted to us being allies.”

He chuckled under his breath, it had something condescending. But he didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

“Oh, I know you don’t see us as equal, I’m not delusional,” she added annoyed.

“How very wise of you,” he countered, letting a tool drop to use another.

“You still couldn’t do it without me,” she dared to insist. She didn’t know why, maybe because he was busy, but she didn’t have the feeling he would lose it right now.

“You know, you can help me,” he reconsidered. “You can keep your pretty little mouth shut.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re hilarious.”

“Oh no, I meant it exactly the way I said it.”

She seriously wondered. He was controlling, sure, but still. “Why is it so hard for you to admit it?”

He groaned into the air, his breath plumed into the cold. “Seriously pet, shut your mouth.” She didn’t expect his glance to her sparkle with something. “Or should I shut it for you?”

Her fingers clawed into her sleeves. She said the bitter words, however false they were. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I would,” he promised darkly. “Maybe I’ll take a note form your book though.”

She flinched. “My book?”

“Oh yes.” He turned to his work again. “You demonstrated at the gambling table how to keep somebody’s mouth shut.”

Rose’s whole body tensed up, her eyes widened. Whether he meant snogging him directly or shutting everybody else there up by proving something – he hinted at the kiss. And she didn’t know why.

Or maybe she did. He loved throwing her off balance, distracting and deflecting from the issue at hand. He wanted to shut her up and she found she indeed didn’t know what to say for a moment. He was effective and trenchant with his words, she had to give him that. Her first impulse was to argue, to tell him the kiss obviously had been a means to an end and that she didn’t want to be reminded of it.

But all that would ignore the actual reason he had brought it up.

“You’re very good at not answering questions,” she granted, ignoring his distracting words. “Always have been. S’a talent of yours.”

She heard him sigh, almost like in defeat. “Go make yourself some tea.”

Now Rose was the one who chuckled against her will. Maybe the cold made her light-headed. But she found him amusing right now. Like a little, pouting child. “Or else?”

“Or else,” he empathised, “I’m going to throw you out of here where there’s probably already ice– ah, bloody hell,” he muttered, yanking his hand back and shaking it out while a few sparks flew.

“Serves you right,” Rose bantered, but stood up to walk to the table with the tea. She chose something with herbs and put on the water boiler. But nothing happened.

She tried again. Unsuccessful. “S’not working.”

He looked back at her. “Oh. Yeah. Could be. The TARDIS has low energy right now.”

Great.

She toddled back to her step to sit down. Noticing the ice on the walls and the floor thicken.

<>

It was cold.

Really cold.

Rose didn’t feel her toes or the tips of her fingers. The temperature fell rapidly, a coat of ice lay on everything. The walls, the floor, the console, but also her jacket, her pants and – as she noticed – also her eyebrows. Her face was partly numb. “A-” she started, but had trouble speaking. “Any p-progress?” Damn, her teeth chattered.

“Yes.”

She wanted to moan, but was too clouded in her mind. “A-any palpa-pable progress?”

“Palpa-what?” he teased.

“Git,” she murmured and tried to wrap herself even more into her coat. “I can’t f-feel my legs.”

“They’re still there.”

“You didn’t even l-look.”

He glanced demonstratively at her, before turning back again, adding drily, “They’re still there.”

Truth was, he was a bit annoyed it didn’t work faster. He’d fix it. But the last attack had burned some serious damage in critical systems. And his bloody fingers were starting to feel the cold in an unpleasant way. They were numbing, making it harder to work.

He was fixated on his task, being in a tunnel for a while. He needed to hurry, but he was sure he could repair it in time. Luckily, he could endure just enough cold, before it would become critical for him, even if it dropped as fast as it did. It should all be fine.

After a while, he blinked and missed a beat.

His head snapped back at the silence behind him. Rose half lay there, not completely since she was wrapped in thick clothing. But her body was limp, her eyes closed, her blue lips parted.

“Crap,” he whispered alarmed, letting his tools fall to run over. Humans were so damn fragile. He straightened her up, his hands on her shoulder, then her face. “Rose?” There was a weak noise in her throat, a hum or a groan. “Stay with me, Rose,” he commanded, his voice sharp, but there was urgency underneath it. Growing as she didn’t respond. “You’re so brittle,” he nagged while slipping his arms under her to lift her and carry her over. “Can’t have you freezing to death now.” He went back to his workplace under the console and sat her up in front of him. She made a sound of protest, not really conscious. “Yes,” he disagreed with mocking fondness, partly amused that she still opposed him when she wasn’t really awake. He placed her between his legs, opening her jacket between them to pull her close so she could profit from his body heat. Wrapping the big blanket all around them. He tucked her head under his chin, her nose bumped into his neck. He cut holes with his screwdriver through the blanket just so his hands could slip through it and he could continue working on the panel, hands moving behind her back.

He could feel her body warm up a little. Felt her stir a little more here and there. Moving her head, the tip of her nose drove down to his collar bone. Her hands shifted between their bodies, pressed tightly together. He nudged her even closer, unconsciously. “That’s right, stay with me,” he murmured while continuing working. “Focus on my voice.”

Rose slowly emerged from a haze, but not completely. She felt like being wrapped in a cocoon and it felt warm and cosy. She partly registered his voice, wondering why it was so soothing, but not questioning it. Her fingers found fabric. She felt the need to move them, so she grazed over the wrinkled texture, her mind being strangely fascinated with it. Also, it warmed up her hands.

She felt a faint pound. Weird, yet familiar. It got clearer when her hands drove up. Right between her own chest. And his, she absently noticed. She felt his hearts. Was fascinated by that too. The strange rhythm so alien. So close. She could feel them beat. Why was this grounding?

Maybe because it proved he had a heart. Two even. Who would have guessed. He normally didn’t show it.

She slowly became more aware of herself. Suddenly realised her face was nuzzled into his neck. She froze, not literally this time. She could smell him. Familiar. Dangerous.

She wanted to budge and at the same time not move at all. Her head lifted just a little, her face still touching him, her nose and lips on the brink of his neck. Feeling him swallow.

She noticed the movement behind her back had stopped. His arms had stopped.

His hands started to move. Slowly. Beneath the blanked and above her jacket. Trailing all the way around the hood. Pushing it automatically back as his fingers found her head. “You still with me?” he mumbled against her hair, his lips touching it. It chased something down her spine.

“Did you fix it?” she asked, trying to ignore the way she was cuddled into him.

“Yes,” he assured her, his fingers slid down to her temples. Her ears. Her cheeks. “The temperature should be soon back to normal.”

She finally pulled her head back, away from his neck. To protest. To get rid of his touch. But when she could see his face, her protest died for some reason. She was so close to him. Their noses almost touching. His eyes searching. But hooded. His face – open. Not disguised by his usual menace or sarcasm or anything. She wasn’t quite sure if she had ever seen it that way. It was like seeing the real him for the first time, whatever that meant. Whoever that was.

She became aware that she didn’t remember how she ended up here. “You replaced me,” she murmured.

There was a small grin, it was almost soft. “I did,” he confirmed, his quiet voice incredibly close. “You were freezing to death over there.”

“Too much work to get rid of the body?” she faintly quipped.

His grin deepened a little further, drawing her even more in. “Far too laborious,” he went with it, his voice a deliberate net that lay upon her. And somehow, his fingers delicately had found her chin.

It made her aware that they didn’t move and she questioned why. “You can let go now,” she voiced unsteady.

His look was still clear. “Okay,” he murmured. But didn’t let go. When his fingers now moved along her jaw, from her chin to her ears, she straight up shivered and it had nothing to do with the cold. And part of her – for whatever reason – didn’t want to stop it. Her lids fell shut. It was like her defences flew out of the window.

It felt good.

And she wanted it to feel good. She deserved feeling good.

He obviously noticed. Because he continued. His fingers trailed from her ears down the sides of her neck, racing another shudder down her spine. Her breath got heavy, her lips parted to protest again automatically, but as her eyes opened, she couldn’t. He straight-up watched her, he was always so intrepid with his stare, reckless and yet steady. Fearless.

But she felt it. She had her hands on his chest still. Feeling the pounding just a tad bit faster. Stronger.

She didn’t understand it. Didn’t understand anything. But his hands moved, finding the back of her neck to trace it, like he couldn’t stop touching her. His deliberate and soft caress down her neck to her spine and up to her hairline again spread goosebumps all over, making her quiver to the core, her lips trembled. She didn’t realise her eyes had closed until she felt his forehead on hers. His nose gently nudging hers.

Oh shit, what the fuck.

Stop!

She didn’t know if her mind screamed at him or her. But she needed to get out. Out of this madness, his literal clutches.

Her body shivered for so many reasons, she felt like bursting into tears. “Let me go,” she demanded, but honestly, it was a plea. Because she could just stand up and go.

A beat.

“You’re shivering,” she felt his breath on her mouth and she almost giggled. Was he serious?

She pulled again her head back, back from his forehead, back from his nose. Trying to read him. To understand him. To understand this. His fingers sliding up her neck and behind her ears so sodding distracting. The slight tilt of his head to the right so confusing. She needed two attempts to form words, her voice feeble. “Is it safe to go outside?”

She felt how his fingers on her tightened ever so slightly, like he very much wanted her to stay put. He still nodded.

She took a deep breath that shuddered more than she wanted it too. Then she used her hands on his chest to push them apart and also stand up. Her eyes darted away, trying to avoid him at all costs. Taking wobbly steps towards the door and out of the bloody room.

Chapter Text

She went straight to her room after the frozen incident, taking a hot shower. The ship’s temperature slowly came back to normal. And she went to bed at some point. It was, once again, like she tried to forget a fever dream she had. But the thing was – she suspected he did the same.

He shook her shoulder the next morning to wake her up like nothing had happened, scolding her sleeping habits and that they needed to work. She threw her pillow at him like nothing had changed as well.

So – it obviously hasn’t changed anything, right?

They continued working and it wasn’t strange. Well, not stranger than usual.

They bickered. They annoyed each other. There were threats. On both sides, actually. But it was all with an underlying understanding.

They had to make this work. And that’s probably why it worked. And why they both pushed everything else simply aside.

<>

Rose walked into the control room with a cup in her hand and a yawn on her mouth.

“You’re late,” he commented and she felt him being testy.

“Am not.” She let herself sink into the chair, sipping her tea.

“You are,” he insisted and he paced in front of the console, fingers twitching at the buttons and levers, frustration radiating off him. But she felt the calm hum of the TARDIS and it showed her that it wouldn’t be a real crisis, or did Rose just imagine this?

“Something the matter?” she asked lazily.

“There’s a bump,” he snapped, jabbing a button harder than necessary.

Rose looked around confused. “A bump?”

“In the net.”

She rolled her eyes. “Be more specific here.”

“The net, the net!” he called out annoyed and she almost had to grin at his ineloquence that was so atypical for him.

Rose understood that he meant the Chronon-Anchor net, they often referred to it by simply ‘net’ or ‘shield’. She sighed as she swung her legs so she could stand up, but was utterly unbothered. “Calm down,” she drawled.

His head whipped around so fast she thought he might get whiplash. “You’re telling me to calm down?” he obviously couldn’t believe it.

“Yes, relax, you’re on the brink of throwing a tantrum and it’s helping nobody,” she simply spoke her mind as she went to the Chronon-Anchor.

She utterly revelled in his silent gasp, apparently taken aback by her. “Oh, forgive me for being mildly irritated that the device meant to keep us from being eaten by Wraiths isn’t cooperating.”

She activated her ring. “Shush,” she tried to shut him up and enjoyed that as well. If he wanted to protest, he didn’t have the time, before her hand landed on the panel. The thing was, she understood the TARDIS’ calm now, for she had hinted at his so-called ‘bump’ before. Rose didn’t understand it before, but it all fell into place now. And the TARDIS was fond of her, so Rose trusted that she could handle it.

She saw the lights align like a net to protect them. And she recognised the bumps. They were merely an inconvenience and with Bad Wolf, she knew how to straighten them up, so to speak. So she did just that. Feeling satisfied doing it.

Her hand eventually separated from the panel and Rose shut off her ring. A smile on her face.

She turned around. The Master stared. “You …” He cut himself off as the readings realigned, showing exactly what they needed. His lips parted slightly, and for once, he was speechless.

Honestly, that was her favourite way to shut him up. She smirked. “So,” she drawled mockingly, stepping forward, her hands behind her back, “are we sorry we made such a fuss?”

He glanced at her, trying to hide a grin that wasn’t all friendly, but also self-ironic. “I didn’t make a fuss,” he countered pointedly.

“Because I fixed it in time.”

He hesitated, like he wanted to ask something, but fought against it. Not sure if or how he should.

Deep satisfaction ran through her. “Come on,” she dared him. “Ask me.”

The knuckles of his hands gripping the console got a bit whiter. Then, a fake grin came at her. “How did you do it?” he was tauntingly polite, but barely getting the words out.

She enjoyed making him ask that, she wouldn’t lie. And she deserved it. But she would answer him to also show him that not everything had to be a power play. “It’s Bad Wolf’s way of maintenance. The net is there all the time, little hiccups in time can cause these bumps and must be taken care of the longer the net exists.”

She was quite proud of herself for understanding and being able to explain it. She didn’t understood the physics of it, but she had her own language where it all made sense. A language he understood as well. And judging by his thoughtful look, he just translated it in his head into all the mathematical implications. “Alright,” he nodded and faced his console again.

She kept grinning at him for a bit longer, enjoying the way he basically hid from her.

<>

Rose sat on the chair, arms around her knees, still humming inside, until he was apparently done with whatever preparations he needed to do. With a sigh, he turned to her and walked a few steps closer. He twitched as he saw her, half rolling his eyes, half suppressing a grin. “You’re feeling rather good about yourself, don’t you?”

Her grin widened. “Can’t complain.”

“Get up and do some real work, would you.”

“Oi,” she scolded. “That was real work. It’s always real work. I work all the time!”

“You sleep all the time.”

“Just give me my sodding win,” she nagged. There was annoyance, but no real venom.

“Get up,” he suddenly pulled her up and she squeaked at the unexpected move. But he already let go of her arms, showing her the device in question in his palm. “Take this,” he said more quietly, and she flinched ever so slightly, still overwhelmed with his closeness sometimes. She questioned whether she would ever get accustomed to him. In some ways, she did. In other ways not really.

She eventually took the device out of his hand, the brushing of his fingers weirdly intense and she shoved that down immediately. She forced herself to face him again. “And now?”

He didn’t break eye-contact, he barely did. He took her hand with an almost careful touch that confused her and she still had that first impulse to pull away. His head tilted ever so slightly, his eyes searching. Just tell me what next, she begged him without words, feeling suspended in limbo. It wasn’t a place where she felt particularly comfortable. “You did good,” he pulled her even more in with a soft voice, acknowledging her earlier plea. The words so unexpected she didn’t know how to feel. It was so uncharacteristic that he conceded something and it felt better than it should.

That’s when he activated the ring on her finger and the familiar rush was intensified by these feelings. Rose gasped, an overwhelmed, “Woah” flew out of her mouth and she looked away, tried to be away, just for a moment, from these overpowering sensations.

She felt his hand on her cheek, but honestly, she was so overload, she only feverishly registered it. “Give me second,” she breathed, closing her eyes, shaking her head. Too much.

She believed he had let go of her, but she wasn’t sure. “Focus on one thing,” she heard his calm voice and it was like an anchor. She followed his advice. Focusing on the device in her hand. Feeling it reaching out to her. And like the Master showed her last time – she took a mental step towards it.

As it smoothly worked, she became happy. Almost giddy.

“Yeah, yeah,” he drawled his words, now taking her head into his hands to push it his way. When she opened her eyes, she saw his sharp grin, a little bit taunting, but not malicious. “You’re a real pro.”

She had no time to roll her eyes, he already slipped inside. And it revived the rush she felt just before. Making her squirm.

“Blimey, you’re sensitive today,” she heard him comment and she didn’t like it.

“Yeah, well,” she snapped, but honestly, she didn’t know what to say. She obviously was. And she felt – even more than usual lately – like being served on a silver platter for him. She knew that he felt everything concerning her. She had no chance against him. But as long as she also felt some power with this work against the Wraiths, it had been easier to ignore. “Why is that?” she finally asked, deciding to be genuine about her own confusion.

He skimmed her face and he felt way too close again. Then, eventually, he shrugged. “That depends on the form on the day. Like with everything – it can vary.” He blinked at her and she felt him being honest. “Nothing to worry about.”

She decided to accept that. It felt like the truth. She did feel variations before. She wasn’t always sure what of it was his doing and she suspected he wouldn’t tell her that detail. But some of it was her stuff. Her concentration. Her emotional state. Her frame of mind.

“Okay, then …” she considered, “just be a little careful.”

She felt his chuckle in her mind. “Am I not always?”

“You’re everything but,” she shot back, voice a bit tight.

He ignored it. “We lift the net now and see if we can fix these more complicated rifts.”

He threw her into the deep end again. Learning by doing, as he called it. She didn’t comment it, he’d feel her thinking it anyway. Apart from that, she partly learned to just go with it. Of necessity.

The shield lifted and it wasn’t long before Rose felt the rift form. She half expected another jolt to knock her over again, so she prepared. She felt the device pulsating. It did something.

The rift was coming. Like a gust before the actual impact. She felt the Master’s mental grip tighten, like he was bracing her.

The jolt hit her like a freight train. Opposite to last time, it apparently didn’t knock her out of her mental state. It still hurt, she still couldn’t breathe for a second and she felt majorly disorientated. She felt the Master leading her. She felt the device stabilising. But her focus was all over the place.

It was sluggish, clunky. Until she recognised the fuzzy rift and the point where she wanted to intervene. She couldn’t say what she was doing even if she wanted to. She had no clear sense of what was happening. Like a storm was blinding her. And while she felt herself doing something, maybe sewing the rift, a sudden shove yanked her back once again.

She hissed, her eyes flew open and the environment was spinning. Her legs simply gave in, she felt sick and a sudden shivering attack.

She didn’t crash on the floor, because the Master slowly sank down with her. “Breathe, Rose,” he demanded and she noticed that she indeed held her breath. And it was hard to start again.

Like she was suddenly aware of that, she panicked, her eyes widened and her heart started racing. His hands on her face pulled her closer. “In and out, come on,” he whispered.

And in the next instant, she finally succeeded, taking one big breath through her mouth, filling her lungs. Making the dizziness in her head slowly ebb away.

She absently noticed his smile and his hand pulling her hair back and driving over her temple. She now became aware that she lay on the ground. Well, not quite, she probably lay on one of his knees when he prevented her from straight-up falling to the ground. The shiver slowly stopped. “What happened?” she rasped, not moving otherwise. She didn’t feel up for it.

“It worked. Well, at least the closing rift part.”

“What about disconnecting you from the Time Matrix?”

He shrugged with a small grin. “You didn’t quite get that far. Yet.”

The more she came around, the more she wanted off his lap and away from his touch. So she moved up. Only to get dizzy and feel sick again. Her hand reached for something to steady herself as she sat there, getting his elbow, closing her eyes. He held her shoulders. “Careful,” he murmured.

She felt slight anger, after her symptoms settled. “This isn’t normal. Is this gonna be like that every time?”

“We’ll find out, won’t we?”

She pushed his arms away from her. “Not until you can promise me that this isn’t harmful.”

His look was so nonchalant. “It’s not.”

She sighed, her shoulders sagged and she stared absently away. “Liar.”

“Why do you never believe me?” he smirked.

“Because you’re always lying, it’s exhausting, actually.”

His grin was more subtle, still teasing. “’m not always lying,” he mumbled and she didn’t know what to make of it.

“You do a lot, tho’,” she countered. “And the rest of the time you’re very loose with the truth.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Truth is in the eye of the beholder.”

Oh man, she hated when she had to suppress a smile. This was not funny, dammit! He was a lying psychopath, and his cheekiness was not charming. “I think you’ve got that saying a lil’ wrong,” she drawled annoyed, but couldn’t quite stop her grin.

“I’m never wrong,” he winked at her, but then already got up, pulling her right with him.

“Hey!” she scolded, still feeling dizzy.

“You want certainty?” he already walked away and she wasn’t sure if she could keep her balance at first. “Fine. Maybe we can arrange something.”

<>

“And where do we go?” Rose asked as he buzzed through the room.

“I told you, Rose, don’t you listen?”

“Sometimes you only tell half of it out loud,” she nagged. She had sat down on the chair in the meantime, not trusting her legs. “Also, if I might remind you, you originally said with this new device we have everything we need, right? Or are you saying it’s not as perfect as you thought?” she dared him in the light of this last attempt.

“I never said it’s perfect.”

“Oh, riiight,” she faked remembering. “My plan with contacting the Doctor was perfect. I confused those two options.”

“You’re so clever,” he turned on his heels, eyes flashing at her. “So funny and slick.”

“I have my moments,” she shrugged.

He slipped his hands into his pocket, taking a step towards her. His eyes more calculating. “It’s just that simple in your head, right? The Doctor comes, we solve this, you get free.” His sly grin wasn’t friendly. “He confesses his undying love and you ride into the sunset.”

Her eyes flickered down, she couldn’t help it. She didn’t really believe that, but she knew better than lying to him and say that was miles away from the truth. “It could be,” she murmured. Then, she looked up. “The first part a least.” The part where they call the Doctor. And he let her go.

He let his eyes rest on her, terribly unreadable. A blank face that was still unsettling.

After a moment, he nodded to the door. “Let’s go.”

<>

“I still don’t know what we’re doing here,” she nagged as they got out of the TARDIS into nature. It was mostly a sad and stony environment with some plants.

“Why, making sure you’re stable of course,” he gave back, continuing his walk, but it didn’t ring quite true to her. “As a sign of trust.”

Her legs were still a bit wobbly. “This s’all so unnecessary,” she grumbled under her breath.

“Stop moping.”

She sighed. “Assuming that I believe you really want to make sure I won’t be damaged – which I don’t – it’s all still so unnecessary, that–” She stopped dead in her tracks. Blinking. Feeling something. Something strange yet clear. “You don’t believe it will work.”

He had taken a few steps further, but stilled the moment she said it. Turning around a breath later. “Come again?”

“You want yet another backup in case the device is not working,” she elaborated.

He tilted his head. “It will work.”

He only partly believed that. He wasn’t sure. “You’re lying.”

He turned fully around, frowning, yet switching to mode that was intended to demonstrate superiority. She could see it in his calculating eyes, but also felt it shift. “Actually, I’m not. It already works, just not yet quite the way we want it to.”

Rose didn’t know what was happening. She felt weird. In a flux. She felt him shifting back and forth, it was confusing. “Are you in my head?” she asked absently, not even aware of it at first, but yeah, it felt like that.

He lost his calculating look, frowning even more. He was alert. He didn’t feel like being in control for a second and he genuinely hated that. Maybe there was even fear.

Of her.

He was frantically analysing this situation, trying to understand it. Trying to shield himself, Rose literally felt how his mental walls came up, but it was like they were see-through.

“Oh my God,” it finally dawned on her and she felt her lips forming a disbelieving smile. She tested it. Drawing on the rudimentary basics she picked up while being connected to him. Trying to peel back his layers just as he so often peeled back hers – and found it surprisingly intuitive. “Oh my God, I can feel you.”

His eyes widened ever so slightly, she felt how he partly understood, but not quite. Another attempt to put up walls followed, but it didn’t change her perception of him. Her grin deepened and a thrill she never felt before ran through her. “Your walls don’t do shit,” she straight-up told him satisfied.

He opened his mouth only to close it again, his following grin wasn’t amused. “Right.”

His mind was so busy behind his calmness, searching and trying. His emotions were all over the place and she could just see it all. He felt cornered. And Rose couldn’t help but lean into that, feeling a perverse pleasure in stepping towards him and him backing away, even if only with his mind. She didn’t know what was happening, but boy did she not care right now. “Something the matter?” it slipped tauntingly through her lips.

“Whatever this is, it isn’t right,” he tried to empathise.

“It’s how you feel me when you’re in my mind, innit?” He hesitated responding, but he didn’t need to. “I already felt you agreeing, so don’t bother answering,” she smirked at him.

“I can see how this would appeal to you, but this is off,” he tried again. And she felt both his sides to be authentic, his collected front and his frantic background trying to fix this. Or maybe just to protect himself. “When one isn’t mentally connected, it isn’t supposed to be this way.”

So he could probably feel her as well. But that wasn’t that big of deal to her, because he was always in a position of power with her. This time, however, she could even the score. “You’re afraid,” she called him out, knowing this would annoy him. She lightly shook her head. “What about me could possibly frighten you?”

And she immediately felt it, his annoyance and him lashing out in an attempt to prove her wrong. “You don’t frighten me, little girl,” he coldly shot back and it was so sharp, Rose shivered. His coldness was real. It wasn’t an act. And feeling it so pervasive made her realise people were right to be afraid of him.

And still – it wasn’t all there was. And she dared to push through the coat of ice to feel all of it.

She didn’t really expect it to work. But whatever was happening here, it just let her fly through him like it was nothing. Like he probably always flew through her. And while it reminded her just how vulnerable she really was around him – it made her realise that, right now, he was vulnerable as well. And that was so damn rare.

She took another step forwards. “Maybe not afraid of me, but of what I might see,” she insisted and immediately knew it to be true.

He lifted his head. “I thought you were morally against snooping in someone’s private thoughts,” he challenged her, sneering his words.

“You didn’t care about my privacy back then, why should I care about yours?” she felt this opportunity clouding her head. And he literally backed off, ever so slightly. It tingled her in all the right places. “You’re squirming, this is so satisfying,” she sighed gloatingly, still stepping closer. “You feel how satisfying this is to me?”

He grinned at her rhetorical question, finding humour in this irony, but his whole demeanour had something … unsure. “Quite,” he acknowledged it pinched.

She tried to reach out to him, so fascinated by this, sensing fear, tension, annoyance and fascination on his side. Also sensing him evading her, even though he obviously couldn’t shield it. “You feel what I’m doing?” she asked in a mixture of taunt and curiosity.

“Yes. You’re clumsy,” she snapped.

She chuckled, she couldn’t help it. “Come on, how about a lil’ challenge?” she had way too much fun. She had nothing to lose here, did she? She was an open book to him all the time.

“I think it might be a side effect of the device,” he tried to direct the attention to the current problem.

“Love it,” she quipped, also because she felt her suspicion affirmed immediately. He was trying to distract her.

“This is not a game, pet,” he shot back. “It’s probably dangerous.”

“You’re worried about me?” she teased him deliberately and instantly felt something spike in him. Maybe tension. Maybe amusement. Maybe something else. He was obviously capable to redirect at least some of her attempts to dive in deeper.

But he threw that tone right back at her, answering with a mock sweetness. “Am I worried about my most promising tool? Why, of course.”

“You avert some of my attempts to have a closer look,” she stated. “It’s not so fun on the receiving end, is it?”

His eyes sparkled darkly. “And are you having fun on your side? Not so morally flawless as you like to pretend, are you?”

“I’d rather have us both not poking around in each other’s minds,” she snapped sharply. “But since you will never stop snooping in mine, this is the only scenario I’m able to catch up. This is how relationships are actually supposed to be by the way,” she gestured between them, genuinely trying to make him understand. “Equal. Open. I know that concept is foreign to you, but you can work with someone equally.”

His grin was still cold, he wanted to lash out, to attack, but something was holding him back. And she didn’t quite understand why, this was a tumbled, complex mess of fascination, calculation and more that was a bit stirring for her, even though she couldn’t quite pinpoint it. “For that to be true, there must be trust,” he said guarded. “And that is non-existent on both sides.”

Interesting.

It was true, no question. She was just surprised he was aware of that. Because … “Are you even capable of trust?”

He flinched, but didn’t seem uncomfortable. Well, not because of that. Generally, he was quite uncomfortable right now which she enjoyed. “Of course I’m capable,” he eventually countered.

She blinked as she read him. “You trust yourself,” she pointed out. “You trust in your abilities. Excessively so. But do you ever trust someone else?” At this point, she sincerely wanted to know. She sincerely wanted to understand.

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “This is pointless. We have to fix whatever this–”

She stepped closer, not expecting it to shut him up. “Do you trust that I want to be genuine with you?”

And it was the truth. She wanted to be honest with him. They had to work together and she wanted it not to be a power play all the time. She didn’t expect her question to elicit a wave of uncertainty in him. He felt lost, even if only for a fleeting second. He must feel her being honest about this, but she didn’t know whether it assured or unsettled him. Maybe he didn’t know either. She noticed before that genuine emotion tended to unsettle him.

He probably already knew this about her, so she just wanted to say it, her words quiet, almost a whisper. “I don’t want to constantly walk on eggshells. I want to be honest about how I feel without it being exploited all the time.”

“Aw, one could think you’re on vacation here,” he sneered in attack mode, winning back his usual composure by stepping closer and towering over her. “You want to talk about feelings and needs? Go to a therapy session.”

“After what you put me through, I’d need it,” she spat angered, not backing down. His menace wasn’t deflection per se, but it still had a function. “And you need one too, by the way. You have no concept or access to your inner needs at all. All you know is control and fear, but guess what, you don’t come very far with that!” Her words were loud, fierce, almost screaming. She still tried not to lose focus.

“I have no complaints,” he hissed in her face, and she felt him indeed revel in his feelings of power. “Also, are you really accusing me of suppressing feelings when you do exactly the same?” he taunted.

She flinched. “I’m not doing that.”

“Right,” he chuckled, and then, his voice got lower. “I know how you feel about the Doctor,” he mumbled and his eyes were cold. “I’ve seen and felt it when, you know, I was deep inside your mind.” Rose’s skin bristled at his deliberate stab in her gut. She felt not only her rush of emotions, but also his, and it was like walking into a hurricane. He was so messed up inside. He said it to intentionally rile her up, knowing that him just plunging into her mind back then upset her. Deeply. But it also stirred him up in a way that was messing with her head. She didn’t understand it. And she seriously didn’t know if she wanted to, afraid of what she’d be dipping into. “But you always suppressed these emotions too, didn’t you?” he continued with a mockingly soft voice.

Rose wasn’t quite sure what was happening, to be honest, but she suspected she found herself in another power play, something she explicitly told him she didn’t want to. “That’s just tact,” she merely whispered. She had held back, because she knew the Doctor would never feel that way about her. “It’s not suppressing.” He grinned with a hum, she sensed his twisted amusement and she felt herself getting angry. “I’m pretty open with my hate towards you, am I not?” she snapped.

He cocked his head and something in him shifted in a way that rippled through her. He was determined and calculating. “You really wanna go there?” he challenged. “What do you feel when I, say,” he lifted his hand, “touch you.” Like on cue, his fingers met her chin, lifting it gently.

She could have felt overwhelmed and cornered, because yeah, him touching her like that elicited unwanted sensations. But she suddenly knew in which game she was. She felt an inner calm. “What about you when you touch me?” she smoothly gave back.

He was frozen for a millisecond, surprised and suddenly aware again that she could feel him. His following grin was far more self-ironic and was joined by an annoyed groan and a swift turnaround, hands stemmed to his sides.

He wanted to play her? Well, she was up for it. “It’s not so easy when the power imbalance is reduced, is it?” she teased him. Irritating her wouldn’t quite work the way it usually did. Not when she was able to irritate him too. And she never had been quite aware of it that she could, but it was evidently true.

He turned to her again, still calculating, but also ready to play, still grinning at her. It was all a game with him, he didn’t know how else to live. “Okay, let’s do this, why not,” he shrugged and stepped purposefully closer with a certain casualness.

She couldn’t help the small grin. “Trying to take control again?”

“If I can,” he mirrored her smile, being in front of her.

And lately, it became exactly this – a game to have control over her by irritating or just confusing her. “Why do you try to keep me small?” she started.

“Because you are small,” he bluntly shot back.

“Lie.”

He grinned. “No, it’s not.”

She hated that he was so self-assured. “Not completely,” she admitted, no reason to lie herself. She could feel him and he knew that. Trying to turn this around and refute her ‘accusations’ of him being vulnerable in any form. “But you think my powers are pretty neat.”

“Very,” he rumbled and what he felt sent a shiver down her spine. He didn’t hide it.

She honestly felt a little disorientated by that. She also thought he would add something, but he didn’t. Until she felt another facet. “You’re fascinated with me.”

“I’m fascinated with your powers,” he immediately opposed, a slight bit of anger.

Again, it was the truth. Just not the whole. “And with me,” she repeated, insisting on it as she felt it.

His face twitched, something in him sparked like electricity. It wasn’t pleasant. And his grin was pinched. “You’re not supposed to have that power,” he answered, trying to be calm, but she felt him buzz. “The part where you handle it is indeed fascinating.”

She grinned. “Are you sayin’ I’m special?” she teased him, knowing that calling a mere human special would rile him up.

He was both amused and annoyed by it. “By circumstance. But I won’t complain. You’re very handy for me,” he added with a wink.

She felt tense because of that. That he had abducted her to use her, it was all fucked up. She didn’t expect to also feel sad about it. “You could’ve asked, you know,” she almost mumbled, realising it herself. “If you would have explained – I might’ve just helped you voluntarily.”

There was a flicker of confusion, breaking his cold front even a little. There were two sides in him and she felt him battle how to react. “You would have been okay with me pulling out Bad Wolf and with painful experiments? I doubt it. No, this was way safer.”

Safer.

She stepped closer without even thinking, her words intense but prudent. “You don’t need to control me to connect to me.”

His tension flared back and it was furious. “Who says I want to connect to you?” he spat, hissing his words.

She looked briefly away with a tired grin, almost rolling her eyes. Everything she picked up with him over the months, every puzzle piece accumulated and it had something absurd to her that she was supposed to explain it when it was so obvious to her. “Shot in the dark,” she said without a voice, knowing he could feel her reasoning, even if he pushed it away.

It was funny to her how many of her early assumptions proved to be true. And she knew it wasn’t about her, him trying to connect to her dysfunctionally was just his pattern, something that was familiar to him. It had nothing to do with her as a person. She was just the one being there.

She felt his inner fight, not expecting him to stay calm. He leaned in even more, she felt his breath. “And what about you, then?” he all but murmured. And she recognised this as an attempt to gain control as well. “If I’d sink into the depth of your mind – what would I find about me that you wouldn’t like me to see?”

Always a threat. Always him empathising he could do whatever he wanted. “I can’t do anything to stop you,” she whispered bitterly. Trying not to hide her feelings about this. That he had hurt her. And that she would hurt if he did it again.

He skimmed her face for a second, like he actually let that sink in. Like he – maybe for the first time – let himself acknowledge her feelings. She didn’t know what that did to him and maybe he didn’t know himself.

“What if I asked?” he unexpectedly said, and she was surprised about his sudden, uncharacteristically cautious voice after the quiet pause.

Rose didn’t know what to say, her lips parted in confusion. What did he want to know exactly? Did he want to know what she thought of him? Was this really an attempt to connect with her differently? And as a person?

She still found herself at a loss. She flinched. Because she sometimes didn’t know what to think about him. “I’d ask you to ask me again another time,” she settled.

He found that answer interesting. Dissatisfying, of course. But interesting. His next words were a curious murmur. “Because the answer would confuse you?” The question was still challenging even though it almost sounded sheepish. It slithered a little deeper that she would have liked.

Her lips moved, but she needed a moment to answer. She couldn’t lie, he would know. “Maybe just as much as it would confuse you,” she tried to carry the sentiment without getting into detail. Because she had no details. She wasn’t even entirely sure what they were talking about.

What surprised her the most – she felt him accept it. Maybe more details felt too dangerous. Maybe they were on the same page there. He nodded slightly. And with a blink, he switched into a business mode. “We should look after this condition. I doubt it’s healthy for you and I have a theory how to stop it.”

With that he walked past her. Probably to the TARDIS again.

She just stood there for a few more seconds.

Chapter Text

Rose slowly followed him back into the TARDIS. Still feeling a bit dumbstruck. She was briefly distracted that she actually also felt the ship a lot better. And that conjured a smile on her face. But she also felt the TARDIS being concerned.

The Master wasn’t lying when he said it was probably dangerous.

“So what happened?” she decided to ask, watching him being on the console. “Why am I sensing everything?”

“The device is reaching out to Bad Wolf, obviously,” he answered without looking up. And she felt him being controlled, like he channelled his focus to not let his thoughts and emotions stray. How could he be both that impulsive and that controlled? “But I think it activated more of Bad Wolf than either of us likes.”

She missed a beat, when she realised how little she really knew about what he had done to her. “So, it’s a consequence of you ripping Bad Wolf out of me,” she scolded calmly, feeling her anger. Knowing she couldn’t do anything about it. “Well, I knew you don’t care about those consequences,” she added bitterly.

She heard his quiet sigh and felt a mix of annoyance and … something else. Was there a form of unease? And if so, what did it mean? He glanced at her. His look almost flat. “I can correct it. I should correct it or it can get dangerous to you. So let’s get this over with and connect.”

With these words, he had straightened up and walked over to her, all very casual. But something came to her and she didn’t even know if she was surprised. Probably not. She still just said it without thinking. “You like connecting to me.”

He didn’t flinch in the slightest. “I suggest we keep our little insights to ourselves or I’m going to start naming what you like about that.”

She couldn’t keep her discomfort as closed-off as him. If he even felt discomfort. Right now, she wasn’t sure, too busy with her own emotions. She eventually shrugged. “Fine, do whatever. You do what you want anyway.”

He watched her pleadingly. “You sound like a child.”

“Don’t be patronising,” she warned, her tone sharp. She wasn’t kidding or amused and he could feel that. She didn’t want to be looked down on, she was so fed up. Not when it was, once again, a problem that he had caused in the first place.

He returned her stare, awfully neutral. But she felt him accept it. Which was both confusing and calming. After a beat, he slowly raised his hands. With clear intention, but maybe so she could protest.

She wouldn’t. She felt the TARDIS being ‘concerned’ if you could call it that. This state wasn’t healthy for her.

His fingers touched her temples and she immediately felt her pulse speed up, empathised by the humming Chronon-Anchor in the background.

His eyes were searching something. “Why are you tense?” he murmured and it slid under her skin. She felt him reaching out to her and it shook her, she didn’t even understand why.

Her lips opened, but she needed a moment to speak, staring at him. “The better question is, in your presence, why am I sometimes not?” she whispered. Maybe she was deflecting, she didn’t know.

He watched her curiously and it made her want to back away. Sometimes it was like he was capturing her with a look like it was a noose. He tilted his head lightly. “So, why aren’t you?”

She wondered herself, swallowing, voice sounding timid. “I guess because I accustomed to you.”

His subtle grin got more obvious. It was amused, but still soft, which was so unsettling to her. She also felt it to be real. Which confused her even more. “Are you saying I’m not scary anymore?” he teased.

She almost huffed, her head shaking somewhat in disbelieve.

What was she supposed to say to that? He was scary. He still threatened her, he still had all the power. When she was in his hands, like right now, he could still pull her apart completely and she’d have no way to stop him.

His fingers tightened just a little and she felt a rush coming from him as he nudged her just a tad closer. “You can hear my thoughts,” she realised.

He nodded. “Partly.”

He wasn’t inside her head yet. “I can’t hear your thoughts,” she complained.

“I shouldn’t either.” His eyes dropped briefly, maybe to her mouth, and it prickled under her skin. “When I’m not in your mind just now.”

She ignored the strange pull, the tension that felt far too intimate. She ignored that her thoughts of him being able to pull her apart ignited something in him she really didn’t want to dive into. She ignored this whole tangled mess. “Just fix it then,” she whispered.

She inhaled sharply when he sank into her mind, her eyes fell shut. She knew the feeling of him pushing her interior to the side to make room, but there was something raw about it this time.

Not forceful. In fact, she felt him pay attention. Like he was so very aware of every mental movement, his and hers.

She only realised a second later that the whimper she had heard was her own. It was interesting how she felt her own embarrassment, but at the same time didn’t give a damn. She felt his mind slide in hers, using the space he made. Intentionally sinking even deeper. Assuring her that he would do his job, nothing more. Apparently, he was convincing, because she didn’t mind him sinking just a little deeper, just a little closer. She was strangely fascinated and observant. Noticing how he moved and what he did.

He moved slow. Careful. Fascinated himself by how she felt. How she reacted. There was something delicate about his movements in a way she didn’t know he could be.

It was maddening. It felt right and was so wrong.

After a moment, she felt him working. Stitching something up. Or closing something. It felt weird. It felt like shutting a door.

Her access to him diminished. A moment ago, it was like she was inside, within his essence. Now, it was like she was being pulled out of it, falling down, and another sound escaped her mouth. She still felt him, of course, he was still in her mind. Catching her as she fell from disorientation. Like he expected it and was ready keep a steadying hold on her. Until she’d come around.

Her mind calmed and she felt things shift back into place. And after a moment, she blinked her eyes open. She just felt him slipping back out. And a shameful part of her wanted him back.

Maybe he still had picked up on it, maybe that was why he lingered in place, hands still on her head, still staying so close she could feel his breath. But maybe he just did that sometimes, as he in fact tended to do. Drawing her close. Keep on touching her. For whatever reason.

His hand drove a bit lower in the process almost naturally, effectively cradling her face. He was searching, his eyes so sodding clear the whole damn time. “Feel anything?” he mumbled the words.

And she couldn’t help huffing a strangled laugh. He meant if she still felt him like before or if it had gone back to normal, but the question rang differently in her ears. Because she felt a lot. And he knew that. Curiosity sparked in his eyes and she heavily swallowed. She wanted to say something, to voice her feelings. But she didn’t even know if she wanted to tell him off or … not.

Her lips moved to form words, almost a quiver, but feeling him like that stopped her.

Yes, she felt something. She wanted to gloss over it so bad, but it ended up being impossible, when watching his eyes felt so real. Like they mirrored her sentiment. It was probably just imagination. Projecting something she yearned for. Like Solace. Closeness.

Her heart pounded, she almost choked and she felt emotions swell in her eyes that she could mostly blink away. But not quite.

She felt vulnerable.

Stop touching me, she begged again while also wanting to lean in. This was so messed-up. Was he doing this on purpose? Exploiting her vulnerability? Or was it all her?

“I think it stopped,” she finally got out. Trying to turn her head away and out of his grip.

He let one hand drop, but used his other one to turn her head back to watch her. “You sure?” he probed. He was on the factual level again, meaning her ability to sense him.

She pushed his hand away, not forceful but determined. Suddenly feeling disgust. Hating how she was switching inside. “It’s gone,” she almost growled. “You’re safe. I can’t sense you and you won’t lose your tool. S’all good.”

He cocked his head, she didn’t know whether he was annoyed or amused. “What crawled up your back this time?”

She was so dumbstruck, she didn’t know what to say for a moment. “Oh, you’ve got a few hours?” she snapped, taking another step back. “Maybe I haven’t been clear lately that I hate it here. I hate everything about this, and I most certainly hate you.” Her tone was raw, she almost screamed the words, fed by her inner turmoil.

The silence after was short-lived, his small grin sharp and challenging. “Sure,” he hissed, nodding once. “That’s what I gathered.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you being sarcastic?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” he drawled.

She decided to ignore that he was or what he implied. “Good,” she simply said and headed out of the room to the floor. She wasn’t in the mood for working with him now and was glad he let her just go.

<>

Apparently, he had been checking out a backup plan apart from the device they were currently using, even if he would never admit it. He was calling it precaution.

She was wondering about it, because they tried again in the meantime, and yeah, it had worked. So she didn’t know exactly what he was searching for. Maybe it was because it was demanding for her and she was basically knocked out after one rift. Maybe it was too slow for him.

He made several trips, she came sometimes. Not always.

She seriously didn’t know what she should hope for. She wanted this whole thing to end. Of course, she was ignoring what he had planned for her if they did manage to fix it all. He still hadn’t explicitly told her that he would let her go. She hated that uncertainty. Maybe he only didn’t assure her to make her feel vulnerable, but the thing was, it was working. And she pondered how she could deal with that. How there still might be a way to get out somehow.

So yeah, fixing this was one way and right now, they managed – slowly – to do that. But she didn’t know if it was damaging her and she didn’t trust him to tell her the truth. So maybe it was good that he was searching for another method. On the other hand, who said this other method would be better for her?

No matter what, she still had no guarantee to make it out of here.

Right now, they entered an alien bar on a gaunt moon. There was a mining operation and apparently also a gathering point for certain trading businesses. He wanted a specific substance, or device, she didn’t even know. And she, once again, should feel if she sensed something with it.

The bar was dense and noisy, people clustered all around and they had to wedge in between them. Rose was a little annoyed, but mostly indifferent. She didn’t sense any danger here but even if – she had this strange certainty that the Master would intervene. Maybe it was insanity, but it was also the truth.

They came to a small, round bar table that miraculously wasn’t occupied. “Stay here,” he said. “I’m going to talk to the barman. I’ll be right back.”

“Can’t wait,” she sighed drily, laying her arms on the table.

He sent her a grin he couldn’t hide. And then left. Rose looked around and at the same time didn’t look anywhere. Maybe she should hope that this would be a dead end again and that their current device would stop working. Then, they’d have to call the Doctor. Right?

“Can I buy you something?”

Surprised, her head snapped to the new voice. It was a young man, good-looking with an easy, charming smile, hair black and just a bit wild and wearing a three-day beard. Dark eyes that sparkled with a hint of mischief. His clothes were worn but neat, and he had that look of someone who knew his way around a spaceport or two.

She couldn’t help the smile. It felt nice but also wistful. “I won’t be here long, so … I don’t want you to waste your money.”

“Oh, okay.” He leaned on the table just like her. “I guess it was just nice seeing another human around.”

“You’re human?” she asked pleasantly surprised. He looked human, but in general that didn't mean much.

“Mostly, yes,” he smiled. “I’m working for a Time Agency.”

Talking about feeling wistful. Her heart was a bit heavy from the fond memories. “I knew a Time Agent once,” she remembered Jack. “You actually remind me of him a bit.”

“Boyfriend?” he asked.

“Smooth,” she joked. “But no. Just a very dear friend.”

He grinned back at her. “So, what are you doing here when you’re only briefly here? You here alone?”

“Um … no,” she said carefully. “Not exactly.”

“O-kay, I sense some secretiveness here,” he smirked, obviously good at reading people. “You don’t have to tell me, but,” he took a napkin and wrote something down with a pen he pulled out of his jacket, “if you are even mildly interested …” He drove the napkin to her and she saw a number written down there, right under the name ‘Ben’. He smiled. “Feel free to give me a call.”

A smile stretched over her face, she couldn’t stop it. She was entangled in such a mess and so wasn’t in the right headspace for this.

But it was still nice.

She considered if he could be of any help. If he could send a message, maybe to the Doctor. But she and the Master would fly off again and more importantly – she didn’t know if she wanted to involve Ben. He probably didn’t deserve to be lined up in the Master’s sights.

She folded the napkin, slipping it in her sleeve. “You know, I probably will. As soon as I clear my mind.” She actually meant that. Problem was, she didn’t expect that to be soon, if ever.

He seemed to like it. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Rose,” the Master’s annoyed voice suddenly slipped in, he stood behind them, seemingly out of nowhere.

Rose jumped visibly. “Blimey,” her hand landed on her heart. “Make a noise next time.”

He blinked. “Are you serious right now?” He nodded towards Ben without looking at him.

“What?” she hissed defensively. “He’s nice.”

“So what?” he gave back. “You want to fuck him?”

The words were blunt, coarse enough that it took her a second to process them. Rose’s face flushed in anger and embarrassment. “You’re gross!”

Ben’s eyes widened, and he gave a low, confused chuckle, holding up his hands. “Alright, obviously you two have a thing going on.” He made a motion as if to leave. “Not a stranger to ‘complicated’, but not sure if you need me in the middle of that.”

Rose shot him a mortified look, her cheeks grew even hotter. “What, no thing! No!”

The Master’s head snapped to Ben, his look unimpressed. “Leave,” he still said gravely.

And Rose saw it, the slight hesitation on Ben’s face, his shift to the question if this nice young woman he met here was in actual danger.

Well, she was. But he didn’t need to die with her, when he evidently could not help. So Rose nodded reassuringly that it was okay. That he should leave. To his credit, he seemed unconvinced. But he reluctantly backed off.

The Master turned to her and which one of them looked more testy in their staring contest, she couldn’t tell. “You’re a real people person,” she started.

“You’re not here to socialise,” he scolded. “Or to find your next date.”

“You know, come to think of it, this was my first real conversation since you abducted me,” she said almost casually and with a sarcastic sweetness. “Forgot what that felt like.”

His lips twitched to a cold grin. “Better not get used to it then.”

Her fake smile fell at his repeated insinuation that he wouldn’t let her go. “You’re an arsehole.”

“We’re done here.” He turned around to leave this bar.

“You’ve got your piece?” she asked grudgingly.

“No.”

Well. So they’d just continue. This was her life now. And maybe it was the fact it was a tiny glimpse of normality she just got, but something in her snapped. She stopped her walk. “Maybe I’m gonna talk to Ben now.”

He turned around frowning. “Who?”

“The person you were rude to just now.”

His face shifted again to disbelieve with an annoyed grin. “Do you think this is a game?”

“Everything with you is,” she gave back.

He stepped a deliberate step forward and she hated that his predatory move still worked on her the way it did. Sure, she lifted her chin in defiance and she wasn’t afraid he’d hurt her right now, but it was still imposing. His following words were surprisingly soft yet unmistakably taunting. “What would the Doctor think if you’d go on a date with him?” It was like he understood her comment as a challenge. “Destroy your feeble chances with him?”

She had to fight not to roll her eyes. “The Doctor is neither here nor interested.”

“Ben is only human,” he almost grinned. “I thought you had a type.”

She huffed. “In contrast to you, I don’t care about the species. Or else I’d be interested in you.”

She didn’t like his head’s tilt from one side to the other nor the provocative gleam in his eyes while he did it. She didn’t let him comment and she didn’t let herself acknowledge why she wanted to brush it off so fast. “I told you the truth before, you know,” she said honestly instead. “I’d help because it’s the right thing to do, not because you force me.”

His smile was still cold. “Aren’t you a doll.” He wouldn’t engage what she tried to do – convince him to let her go.

“You’re a sodding control freak,” she sighed.

He leaned forwards just a bit. “If you don’t come back now, I’m going to carry you.”

She wanted to hiss at him that he wouldn’t dare, but fact was – he would. And somehow she wanted to keep that part of her dignity. So she let her hands slide over her face, hiding a moan. She looked around in an attempt to calm herself. It wasn’t like she really expected him to let her go. “Fine,” she snapped, but to be honest, there was no force. She didn’t really know why. She just walked past him. To the TARDIS.

<>

It was only a few hours later – she had been in the living room for a while – when he ordered her to the control room. Working another rift.

She had kept the napkin with Ben’s number, watching it for a while. Thinking about how it had made her feel. A lot of these last months had just been survival. And while she didn’t know how, she knew she wanted her life back. She wanted to know whether she would be free when this was over and the Master didn’t seem to want to give her that answer.

She didn’t know how she felt, honestly, when she entered the control room. She was angry. But also detached. She was in too deep for such a long time now, it all felt surreal sometimes.

“We should proceed with another rift,” he immediately said, walking from the control panel to the Chronon-Anchor. “It’s probably a bit bigger, but I figured we just try it. It should work.” When he turned around again to go somewhere, he must have caught her appearance. She didn’t know how she looked, honestly, but something in there must have made him still. His eyes hooded slightly. “Rose,” he asked and warned at the same time. “Is there a problem?”

A fucking giant one.

“Why don’t you let me go?” The question was simple. And she honestly wanted to know. She just wanted to know if there was a chance.

She could tell he was annoyed. Maybe exhausted. Which was so funny to her, because he was the one being exhausting. He moved, stepping closer. “You’re my prisoner, Rose,” he empathised. His voice calm and serious. “You can be happy I give you the leeway that you have.”

Oh damn, that made her furious.

Leeway?

She had barely any space to breathe.

She stepped closer as well, closing the gap completely, facing him head-on. “You know it’s not that simple,” she got agitated.

His eyes flashed. “What’s not simple?”

“Everything,” she hissed. “Our whole fucking existence.”

“How philosophical,” he countered drily.

“Our relationship,” she said instead. And she saw a flicker of confusion in his face, big enough to make him falter. “It’s not simple, is it?” she added, voice a bit softer. She didn’t even know what she wanted to hear, but she wanted him to acknowledge it. That not everything was as cut and dry.

He seemed to focus again. “We’re going to work now,” he almost murmured, but it was still determined, had still something dangerously calm.

“Are we?” she snarked.

“Rose,” he warned and she saw him twitch, ready to lash out. “Don’t make me.”

“What?” she spat. “Force me? Torture me?”

“Yes,” he shot back, maybe as a defence, maybe as a demonstration of power, but for some reason, it cut deep. She hated it. She felt so much rage, she didn’t know where to put it. It felt like she was about to explode, to shout and to cry all at once. It didn’t matter how he seemed to have a storm inside him as well. “Take the device,” he demanded both soberly and on edge.

Alright. If he insisted.

Something in her snapped as she stamped to the Chronon-Anchor where the device would be. “You want me to take the device?” Her head felt like being in a rush even before she connected with it. But she had a clear goal and while she wasn’t aware of the technical details, she leaned into her intuition. Trusting her own power. Feeling how her emotions overran her, and yet, it helped her to keep her focus in a way she didn’t manage before.

“As you wish,” she hissed and when she turned around to face him, he probably saw it in her golden yes, but she lifted the device before he could intervene. Her emotions, her energy, her everything led into the device, making it implode in her hand, little sparks flew away with a shrill, dying hiss.

Rose lost her own awareness for a second, what she did was demanding. But she enjoyed his angry shout through the room, his desperate protest.

Next thing, she opened her hand and felt the debris from the device crumble out of it.

She basically had just forced his hand. Without this device, they wouldn’t be able to fix these more advanced rifts. Only the Doctor’s TARDIS could help them now.

When she looked at him, he didn’t move. Probably in shock. But his eyes were burning.

Chapter Text

Rose only had the presence of mind to shut off her ring a few seconds later. Trying very hard to reorientate fast.

She couldn’t predict his reaction in the slightest, he looked like he was about to take her down and she knew that he could. His hidden grin was wild as if he couldn’t believe what she’d just done. Which he probably couldn’t.

The Master was like frozen, micro-switching between roaring and laughing, doing neither in the end. He broke out of it with a bewildered huff, staring into the air for a moment, like he needed to compose himself, then shaking his head in disbelieve.

Oh, he was fighting so hard to not straight up kill her, at least that was what she gathered.

She had no regrets.

What she did – it made so much sense to her.

When his head snapped to her again, his stunned grin was open-mouthed, his eyes sharp and livid. And yet conflicted. After a beat, he bit his tongue in thought, studying her. “I want to say that this was very stupid, but it was actually very clever,” he eventually stated and while she felt his storm underneath, his voice was surprisingly steady.

Huh.

“Thank you,” she answered quietly.

“I wasn’t aware you’re capable of that.”

To be honest … “Me neither.” He could still snap, she was aware of that. In fact, she was a bit afraid that he hadn’t yet. Cards on the table. “You want to kill me now?” she added and it was so absurd, because it was an honest question dressed up in a normal sounding conversation.

He chuckled lowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’m playing with the thought,” he answered honestly and fed this strange atmosphere.

“You’d still have to call the Doctor,” she pointed out.

His disbelieving smirk grew involuntarily. When he stemmed his hands to his sides, he gave a heavy sigh. Watching her like he didn’t know what to do with her now. “The Doctor alone can’t fix this, I still need you,” he said annoyed and it probably was the first time he acknowledged it so directly, even though she of course knew.

“Lucky me,” she murmured. She knew, but you could never be sure with him. Could never be certain that he didn’t decide that he’ll search for another way in a rush of impulsivity. Or that – despite him needing her – he wouldn’t punish her in some fashion.

He seemed to consider something, before he moved one step closer. She instinctually stepped back and sharply inhaled. He briefly stopped as he noticed, but then continued. She forced herself to stay put, but everything in her tensed up as he closed in and she was sure she couldn’t really hide it. “Relax,” he mumbled unexpectedly as he was right in front of her.

“You just said you are contemplating to kill me,” she almost whispered.

He gently blinked. “I won’t.” He watched her like he was dissecting her and she felt exposed under his gaze. With another very slight shake of his head he added a low, “Fucking well played.”

<>

Rose observed him as he stood on the panel, clicking stuff. To be honest she felt both light-headed and very heavy. She didn’t know what her body did, but she was nervous and happy and tense all at once.

He was about to message the Doctor.

The Doctor.

She couldn’t believe it, not really. Not that it would really be happening.

He turned around and folded his arms when he leaned against the panel behind him. She blinked. “Did you call him?”

“Not yet.”

Oh. She had a hard time getting a read on him. He was pissed off, for sure. But also composed. “So what?” she prompted him.

“I just want to make sure that you remember you’re still bound to the Chronon-Anchor. That has never changed. I’m not a hundred percent sure what’s going on in your head-” Vice versa, she thought. “-but I just thought I should mention that again.”

She mirrored his cynic grin. “As if I could forget.”

He raised a brow, but then turned around to press something. “It’s sent.”

Oh holy crap, did that give her a tense shudder. They had landed on a planet, and the Doctor would get the coordinates. And as soon as it was an actual possibility, her heart started racing. She’d been anticipating this moment for what felt like forever, clinging to it when things had seemed utterly hopeless. She had tried to tell herself it would happen. That she would see him again. But the voice inside her head had become so quiet over the months. And now that the moment was here, it didn’t feel real.

She only noticed the Master observing her when the panel beeped. “Look at that,” he commented, a little annoyed maybe. “He’s right on time.”

Rose didn’t know why, but that the Doctor came immediately almost made her tear up. Of course she was aware he had a time machine, but there had been a silent fear that he may not show up at all.

A second later, the door opened.

And there he was.

The Doctor stepped through, his long coat trailing behind him, his face taut with caution. His sharp eyes scanned the room instantly, flicking over her, the Master, and every corner as if assessing for traps. For a moment, Rose wasn’t even sure he’d noticed her properly – until his gaze found hers.

Her breath caught in her throat.

It was surreal, utterly surreal, to see him standing there, flesh and blood and so achingly familiar after everything she’d endured. For a split second, his eyes softened, the sheer relief breaking through the surface tension. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by a guarded look.

The Master lounged against the panel, arms still crossed, watching him with a laziness that didn’t match the situation. “Ah, look who finally showed up,” he drawled, the corner of his mouth curling. “Took you long enough. Didn’t manage it without my help, did you?”

The Doctor ignored him, his gaze fixed on her as he took a cautious step forward. “Rose,” he said softly, and just the way he said her name made her chest tighten.

“Doctor,” she breathed. She took a half-step forward, then stopped, uncertain, the weight of the moment pressing down on her.

He hesitated too, his hands twitching at his sides as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them. The relief in his eyes was undeniable now, but it was layered with something else – something cautious, as though he were bracing himself for this to be ripped away at any moment. “You’re okay,” he said finally, almost like he couldn’t believe it.

Rose nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” Her voice wavered slightly, betraying the storm of emotion swirling inside her.

“Well, this is touching,” the Master disrupted their exchange. “Really, it is. I might even shed a tear later.”

The Doctor’s gaze snapped to him, his expression hardening instantly. “You,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

The Master finally pushed off the console. “Yes, me. Evil. Grrr,” he playfully wiggled his fingers.

“Why don’t we skip the theatrics for now, shall we?” the Doctor immediately cut him off, his voice sharper, but also more businesslike. “You sent information. About the Wraith. How severe is it? How urgent?”

His counterpart shrugged. “Severe. Urgent. Tricky. So, naturally, I thought of you,” he added sarcastically.

“Oh, I’m moved,” the Doctor deadpanned. “So what is this? You want me to clean up your mess?”

The Master’s smile was cold and taunting. “Mi mess es su mess.”

“That seems to be the way,” the Doctor mused, shaking his head. “Do you have anything else besides knowing they’re there. Something useful?”

“You think I’m a mere amateur, don’t you?” he shot back. “But what are you then, Doctor? A clumsy child?”

The Doctor’s sigh was there to compose him, to not lash out. “What you sent about them is the only reason I’m not tearing this ship apart yet,” he growled darkly.

And the atmosphere shifted, the Master’s eyes also grew darker. “The only reason you’re here in the first place is because I let you.”

Part of Rose wanted to intervene, because, as much as she wanted the Doctor to just take her away from here – they had an actual problem on their hands.

“Then go on and tell me,” the Doctor countered, before she could say something.

The Master took a quiet breath. “They attack temporal weak points, but it rips open the fabric of time itself. If we don’t fix this little problem – with both TARDISes – it’ll destabilise everything and the universe will collapse.”

The Doctor’s jaw tightened, his mind already racing. “And you know this because …?”

“Why, because I’m clever, obviously,” the Master winked. “And I’ve been tracking them.”

“And why is that?” the Doctor asked warily.

“Self-preservation, of course. I’m in the universe if you haven’t noticed. Really, Doctor, you wound me. I thought you knew me better than this.”

“I do, that’s why I know you don’t give me the whole picture.”

Rose cut in, before this little cat and mouse game could continue. “Yeah, the missing piece is that the ‘universe collapsing’ thing? That’s kind of on him. An experiment of his went sideways.”

The Doctor froze, his eyes narrowing as his gaze snapped back to the Master. “An experiment?” he echoed, his voice low and sharp. “What kind of experiment?”

The Master sighed theatricality, but actually hid a grin. “Oh Rose, you little chatterbox.”

Rose met his glance without flinching, even though her words were directed at the Doctor. “He wanted more power and connected himself to the Time Matrix. Since then, he’s constantly ripping holes in reality that the Wraiths want to fix. Among other things by eliminating him. But since he is connected to the Time Matrix, his death would cause the whole thing to collapse.” She cocked her head. “Am I missing anything?”

His grin was sharp. “A-one.”

The Doctor’s eyes fell shut, he nodded. “You caused this,” he said like he shouldn’t be surprised. But still couldn’t believe it. “I’m not even going to ask why you did it in the first place.”

“Oh, please,” he nagged. “Spare me the moralising, Doctor. It was all terribly theoretical at the time.”

“Well, it’s not theoretical anymore, is it?” he snapped pointedly. “You unleashed an existential threat to the universe, and you’re acting like it’s a minor inconvenience.”

“As if you never did,” the Master dismissively turned around for a moment and for a split of a second, Rose felt the dynamics of two school boys. She knew the basics of their history of course, but seeing it, if only fleetingly, made it real.

And absurd. They were talking about destroying the universe, not a simple prank.

“I didn’t,” the Doctor insisted. “Not like you.”

Rose stepped forwards, lifting her hands. “Look, it doesn’t matter how it started. What matters is that we stop it. And like it or not, we need to work together on this.”

The Doctor looked at her, his expression softening slightly, but he also examined her. She tried to assure him that this was the way. His voice was quieter. “You trust him?”

Rose flinched. She knew what he meant, but this question caught her off guard anyway. “No … obviously,” she answered. “But I trust that he wants to survive.”

The Master shrugged. “Girl’s not wrong.”

But the Doctor wasn’t done. His eyes stayed fixed on Rose, searching. “What about you?” he asked, his voice calmer but no less intense. “Are you supposed to have some kind of role in all of this? Is that why you’re here?”

Rose hesitated, her hands fidgeting slightly at her sides. “I,” she took a deep breath, knowing this would cause friction. “Bad Wolf is … it’s active again. He has been utilising it.”

The Doctor’s face changed instantly, his shock morphing into something darker. “Bad Wolf?” he repeated, his voice almost a whisper. “Rose, that’s not something that just ‘activates’.” He turned sharply to the Master, his expression now a mix of rage and disbelief. “What did you do?”

The Master encountered the Doctor’s accusations with a cold, unyielding front. “I did what had to be done.”

The Doctor huffed, clearly flabbergasted and outraged. And disgusted. “You forced Bad Wolf. You ripped that out of her. Do you have any idea what you’ve done? What kind of risk you’ve taken with her?”

The Master didn’t flinch. “Yes,” he said flatly, his tone devoid of its usual theatricality. It was cold. And it sent a shiver down her spine. “I know exactly what I’ve done.”

Oh, he knew. He was calculated from the start, her whole abduction was.

“The universe doesn’t give a crap about your righteousness,” he added convinced. “It’s about doing what’s effective and if using Bad Wolf is what it takes, then so be it.”

“You’re talking about her like she is a weapon,” the Doctor hissed.

“She is a weapon,” the Master countered matter-of-factly. “Evidence suggests that.”

Rose realised something in this moment. He never stated it like he did now and she honestly hadn’t been aware that he saw her as a weapon. But – was that why he might want to keep her, even after they’d fix this? It would made sense, wouldn’t it?

“She is a person,” she heard the Doctor empathise, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

However that might be and whatever it would entail – one thing was true. Rose took another step, her voice calm but firm. “I didn’t choose this.” Her look at him didn’t waver. “But if Bad Wolf is the thing standing between us and the destruction of the universe, then I’ll use it. Even if I hate how it happened.”

The Doctor turned to her, his anger softening into something closer to desperation. “Rose, you don’t understand. That power – it could destroy you. It almost did last time. You don’t have to do this.”

She felt her heart swell with a wistful feeling. “If I can help, I have to.” She send him a warm smile that she felt deep inside. “You taught me that.”

The Doctor stared at her, the weight of her words sinking in. He couldn’t argue against it and Rose knew he wouldn’t. Because she was right. She saw proud in his face even if he hated all this. His eyes closed with a shake of his head. Then, he shot the Master a withering look. “If anything happens to her,” he threatened lowly. “If you’ve pushed her too far …”

“You’ll punish me, I get it,” the Master retorted with a dismissive wave of the hand. “Not that you could, but consider your threats spoken. Should we get to work then?”

“Not so fast,” he answered, making the Master frown. “Before we discuss anything else, I need to speak with Rose. Alone.”

The words were followed by silence. Rose’s was hopeful, choking on her emotions, the Master’s was mostly annoyed. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he sighed.

“It’s not up for debate,” the Doctor snapped. “She’ll come with me so I can talk to her.”

The moment the words left his mouth, the Master let out a chuckle that was laced with humourless darkness. “Oh, you should’ve called yourself the Jokester,” he drawled. “You think I’m letting her out of my sight, let alone into your TARDIS? You want to run this by me again?”

“Master,” she spoke up quietly but honestly. Open. His look switched to her and it shifted. Still sharp. But with less taunt. “I already told you I’d still help. You know I won’t run.”

“I don’t,” he immediately disagreed. “And I won’t … do it,” he answered pointedly.

She felt herself feebly nod as, to be honest, she wasn’t surprised. It had been worth a try though.

The Master sighed with a roll of his eyes. “As a goodwill gesture, you’ll get five minutes on my ship if that’ll make you happy and it means we can move on already.” The Doctor considered it, finally nodding. Getting the chances he got. “Fine,” the Master faked his grin, then his glance fell on her. “Take him. You know your way around here, don’t you,” he sneered suggestively enough.

Rose held his gaze, not quite trusting that this was real and this was happening. But she turned around, gesturing the Doctor to follow her. And she heard his steps as she walked through the door further into the ship.

The thing was, it always felt like a liberty when he allowed her to walk the ship freely, but she had learned early on that this was a false presumption. Like right now, a door showed up and it would probably be the only door appearing even if they walked further.

Rose just took the hint. Walking into a room that was unknown to her. Spare and probably only there to simulate privacy.

When she turned around, she saw the Doctor close the door. And when he faced her, it was like time stood still. The hum of the TARDIS surrounded them, grounding Rose in the moment, though her emotions were swirling, pulling her in a thousand directions at once. The Doctor stood before her, his eyes wide and full of regret, like he couldn’t believe she was really there. Like it was just as surreal to him as it was to her.

“Rose,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t find you sooner.”

The words hit her hard, like a punch to the chest, and suddenly everything she’d been holding back came crashing to the surface. She couldn’t stop the tears that welled up, her throat tightening painfully. But even as she felt the weight of those long, awful days when she’d thought she’d never see him again, a breathless laugh escaped her lips.

The Doctor’s face softened with relief, and before she knew it, she was in his arms, his embrace warm and steady, anchoring her as she started crying and laughing all at once.

“I can’t believe it …” she gasped between shaky breaths. “You’re really here.”

“I’m here,” he murmured, holding her tight like he was afraid to let go. “And I’m not going anywhere, Rose. Not again.”

Her laughter faded, but the tears kept coming, soaking into his jacket. She clung to him, feeling the overwhelming relief of being safe again, of being with him again, after so long spent in fear and uncertainty.

“I thought – I thought I’d never see you again,” she whispered, her voice breaking, her fingers gripping the fabric of his coat as if she could never let go.

The Doctor pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her, his hand coming up to brush away the tears on her cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” he said again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I tried. I never stopped looking for you.”

Rose gave him a watery smile, shaking her head. “I know. I know you did.” Right now, she did. And she wondered how she could have ever doubted it.

They hugged again, this time even tighter, the Doctor resting his chin on the top of her head as she buried her face in his chest. She felt a strange mix of emotions, relief, joy, sorrow, all wrapped up in the warmth of his embrace.

“I missed you so much,” she whimpered, her voice still thick with tears, but there was a small, broken laugh underneath. “God, I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Rose,” he said softly, the weight of those words hanging between them, full of everything they’d lost and everything they’d somehow regained.

For a long time, they just stood there, holding each other as if nothing else mattered. Rose felt the tears slowing, the tension in her body gradually easing as the reality of being back with the Doctor, back where she belonged, settled in. She wasn’t alone anymore.

Finally, she pulled back to look up at him, her eyes red and puffy but her smile genuine. “We’ve got some catching up to do, don’t we?”

The Doctor chuckled, a sound full of warmth, and he nodded. “Yeah. Just a bit.”

Rose laughed softly through the last of her tears and she wanted that feeling to last. She wanted to go with him. But it all wasn’t over yet. And she felt that heaviness settle in her chest. She swallowed. “So, what next?” she sniffed.

His thumbs were still on her cheeks, his little movements so soothing. “We do what we have to do,” he acknowledged. “And then I’ll take you home with me.”

Those were the most beautiful words she had heard in a long time.

<>

When the three of them had agreed on their next steps, which involved the Doctor getting the whole data to analyse it on his TARDIS, Rose sill didn’t trust herself not to dream this whole thing up. Seeing the Doctor leave made her ache, but at the same time – she’d deal. She dealt with so much already.

In the evening, Rose found herself alone on the couch in the living room with sweat pants and a loose bun. Half-lost in the pages of a book on telepathy she’d found on one of the high shelves. She wasn’t really reading, though. Her mind kept drifting back to the Doctor, the memory of his face, his words, his promise to never leave again. She could still feel the warmth of his arms around her, the ease of smile. At the same time, her thoughts shifted to the Wraiths and to the work that lay ahead of them. With the TARDISes keeping the balance so she could continue to work on the rifts and on separating the Master from the Time Matrix.

She heard the faint footsteps before she saw him. She didn’t even need to look up. His presence had a weight to it, something in the air that shifted whenever he entered the room. He stopped a few paces away, clearly watching her. “Comfortable?” he drawled, his voice smooth, tainted with that hint of amusement he never quite dropped.

She tried to detect if there were still hints of anger. If he would hold contempt towards her in the face of what she had done. Rose glanced up, her expression guarded. “Just reading,” she replied, lifting the book in demonstration before placing it back down.

The Master’s lips twitched, almost forming a smile as he moved closer. “You weren’t reading. You were thinking.”

She huffed. “Well, a lot has happened today.”

His eyes hooded. “Hasn’t it just?” She honestly didn’t know what to say to that. He tilted his head, a provocative gleam in his eyes. “Has your reunion been everything that you had hoped it would be?”

She sighed, dropping her gaze. “Does it matter?” she murmured, her voice softer than she intended. He had already way to many information about how she felt about the Doctor, he didn’t need any more. Also, she didn’t want to play this particular game.

She saw him move out of the corner of her eyes and was wary as she felt the couch dip beside her. She hesitated, but still glanced at him, seeing him stare. Pointedly. Pervasive. Like he was asking something and simultaneously daring her.

She swallowed a heavy lump in her throat. “I’m not sorry,” she stated, but almost whispered the words.

“Of course not,” he hissed. “You’ve got everything you wanted.”

Was he serious? “Yeah, if you ignore I’m still stuck here for your amusement.”

He cocked his head, his voice curious. “Is that why you think I don’t let you go? For fun?”

Of course there were practical reasons, Rose was aware. But if he really planned on keeping her because of Bad Wolf – as she vaguely suspected – it would be out of fun for him. But he was always keen on keeping all his reasoning under seal. Her own gaze softened as a strange, uneasy awareness stirred inside her. “I don’t know what you do, half the time. And I’m not sure you do either.” Something flickered in his face and she always found these moments interesting. When his control slipped. “I don’t know if you really don’t believe me when I say I’d still help – or if you just need to control it like you control everything.”

She saw it, his faint rudiments of an eye-roll. “I believe that you think you’re telling the truth. But this will change as soon as I loosen my grip. This is safer.”

Safer.

It wasn’t the first time he said something like that.

“You think control will keep you safe,” she murmured, more to herself than him. “But … it just keeps people away.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, she thought he might retreat behind his usual coldness. But something different happened. Something in his eyes changed, searching her. Carefully wandering along her features. Something in the atmosphere shifted and she felt her heart speed up just a bit, not really understanding why. Why the intensity of his stare draw her in the way it did. “Maybe,” he finally mumbled and it was the first time ever he didn’t brush her off when they were talking about this. His eyes still intense on hers, dropping, yearning. It was the first time, concerning this, that felt like she was talking to him.

Half of her expected it when his hand reached out and found her cheek. His touch careful, gentle. And she couldn’t help it, she resonated with this real, vulnerable part of him he was showing, however small.

She almost naturally did what she had never done before – she leaned into his hand ever so slightly, feeling his palm and closing her eyes for a moment. Just one moment letting herself feel. A taste of this weird connection. And she found it surprisingly alluring. Tempting. Her unflinching gaze found him. His eyes were dark, she barely saw the brown. Yet unsure. Or maybe just asking. But she had nothing to hide. “Is it okay if I sleep here?” she murmured and her voice sounded unexpectedly low, sluggish. She observed him closely when she added, “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

It was all terribly subtle, but she saw his eyes widen, brief and feeble. She felt the hitch in his breath. The way he had a whirlwind of emotions he hid behind his practised mask. How he needed an attempt to finally get out his soft, “Sure.”

Rose shifted, lightly at first, enjoying his lingering hand on her skin, before she leaned back, wrapping the blanket around herself and sinking into the cushions. Her eyes growing heavy as the blanket’s warmth surrounded her and she pulled the fabric up to her chin, her breathing slowing.

Everything was heavy, the weight of exhaustion but also the feeling their little exchange had elicited. And it was far from feeling bad.

Chapter Text

When Rose woke up again, she wondered if she had dreamed it all. If her seeing the Doctor, her seeing a light at the end of the tunnel, was all imagined.

The more she realised it wasn’t – the more her smile stretched across her face.

She got up with more energy than in a long time, effectively hopping to make herself tea to then get to the control room.

The Master wasn’t in the living room anymore. She didn’t expect him to be. First, he barely slept, second, it would bore him to stay too long in one place and third – well, third. He had never stayed before when they … had shared a moment. Which was basically the first time she even acknowledged that they had moments, even if only admitting it in her head.

They had weird moments before. Weirdly sensitive. Weirdly genuine. But they’d just move on and she had no intention to change that rhythm.

When she entered the control room he sat on a chair, legs stretched-out and crossed against the console, a cup in his hands himself. “The Doctor can’t wait to see you,” he said casually watching his screen and taking a sip. “There were already one and a half threats.”

She couldn’t help but grin at his messed-up humour. “Well, where’s the problem? Let him come over.”

His head turned her way, a provocative smile on his face. “I told him you’re sound asleep.”

She leaned against the console near him. “Well, I’m not anymore. Let’s go to work.”

<>

When the Doctor had got the message from the Master, he thought it wasn’t real. And if it was – surely a trap. He had searched for them so desperately, meanwhile analysing the limited data he had from this bond with which he had chained Rose to him. Everything about this had been frustrating. Because he knew he got close a few times.

But never close enough.

He had never stopped trying. Guilt had been eating away at him, hollowing him. That he hadn’t prevented it. That he had basically condemned her to a horrible life, leaving her all alone. He would’ve never been able to forgive himself.

He still didn’t. But now he had a chance. To make everything right again. Seeing that, at least physically, Rose was okay.

Seeing her, holding her, smelling her was one of the greatest gifts he could have imagined. Feeling her arms wrapped around him and her being so happy to see him and not mad or disappointed. He had wanted to take her with him right away. But the situation was more complicated than that.

She was still bound to his ship. His Chronon-Anchor, as he now knew after he had studied all that data.

He scanned this bond, of course, trying to figure out if he could separate it to at least get her aboard his ship. But the truth was that the Master was bloody brilliant. And the Doctor had to watch his own moves. He could never risk to lose her again.

She seemed okay, considering. But he still saw the exhaustion behind her eyes. The strain. She was thinner. He had recognised the hurt behind her eyes, the anguish. Part of him dreaded to find out what she had gone through. But he wanted to know anyway.

Finally, he was allowed to get on his ship. As he walked over the grass from his own TARDIS to the Master’s – it looked like a native tree – he on one hand hardened inside, on the other hand could barely wait.

He still wasn’t convinced that Rose was completely undamaged. He wasn’t convinced that Bad Wolf wasn’t a danger. And he certainly wasn’t convinced that the Master cared enough.

All about this had been a farce. Her abduction, to allegedly hurt him. Not that the Master wouldn’t enjoy this bonus. But it had been about Bad Wolf from the start. Either way, no matter how you’d spin it, Rose was collateral damage. And if he knew one thing about the Master – is that he didn’t care about collateral damage.

As soon the Doctor opened the door, Rose turned his way with a cup in her hand, her smile widening. Tired, but still radiant. It warmed him deep within his hearts. “So good to see you, Doctor,” she said and her eyes told him that she meant that more than words could convey.

His smile grew despite the circumstances. And it dropped as he saw the Master stretching his hands behind his head on his chair behind Rose. “See,” he hummed. “I told you I’ll tell you as soon as she wakes up.”

The Doctor switched to Rose. Asking. If it was really true. She nodded at him. Then, he found his counterpart again. “You’re so generous.”

The Master swung on his feet. Taking a few steps closer. “That’s me,” he winked at him. “I’d never disrupt her beauty sleep.”

Rose openly rolled her eyes at him, something deflated therein. “Oh, really?” she said drily. And the Doctor watched it closely, trying to get as much information even if they wouldn’t openly talk about everything for now. He noticed how she sent the Master her best ‘Seriously?’-look.

His smile sharpened. “Of course not, that would be rude.”

She wrinkled her nose at him, her smile fake and barbed. “Of course not.”

The Master turned to the Doctor, apparently brushing this unspoken argument aside. “Did you adjust your TARDIS’ settings?”

The Doctor nodded. “I did. So how exactly is Rose supposed to fix all this?”

“He connected me to the Chronon-Anchor,” she answered, her fiddling hands showing a certain nervousness. Then she raised her hand, showing a green ring. “And he gave me this.”

The Doctor frowned. He knew about the Chronon-Anchor, he did not know about this. “What is it?”

She hesitated, ever so slightly. Then she touched the ring, apparently activating it. It began to glow.

And so did she.

At first, she had looked down, but when she raised her head, he saw her golden eyes staring at him.

He was in awe.

And he was horrified.

His sigh came from deep within, his head sank and he closed his eyes. His stomach churned and he tried very hard not to lash out. Of course, he had known about Bad Wolf, but seeing this made it more real. The Master really outdid himself there.

He saw how she turned it off, walking to him. “It’s fine, I feel fine with this,” she tried to reassure him. Obviously his reaction had induced her to try to calm him.

That was not his desired effect.

As she took steps towards him, he naturally closed the gap, finding her shoulders. “While that’s good and none if this is your fault,” he glared briefly at the Master, “this isn’t …” He missed a beat, searching for words. “This isn’t okay.”

She understood the gravity of his words, he saw it in her eyes. There was regret, hurt, sadness. She knew it wasn’t okay, but it was like he reminded her of it when she had successfully pushed it aside.

It wasn’t okay what the Master had done, from start to finish.

“Don’t be dramatic,” the Master waived. “She’s holding up fine.”

He couldn’t help it, his grip on her shoulders tightened. “Tell me you can reverse it.”

The Master grinned diabolically, tauntingly. “What if not?”

He wanted to rile him up deliberately, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t true. “Let’s hope for your sake that there’s a way.”

“Oooh, chilly,” the Master mock-shuddered, his eyes dark. Then, he turned on his heels. “Come on, Rose, let’s check if the tent of both TARDISes is stable and working.”

“What do I do?” she asked confused, but walked out of his hands and to the Master.

“Like so often,” he answered and stepped right into her space, straight-up taking her face in his hands, “feel.”

The Doctor frowned, tension drove in his limbs, his eyes darkened. “What are you doing?”

The Master’s eyes slowly switched to look at him, sinister relish therein, like his questions sparked ominous amusement. “What does it look like?”

The Doctor strode forwards, the Master stepped harshly back, but pulled Rose with him, grabbing her elbow. “Ah-ah-ah,” he said with dark playfulness, one finger raised.

“Whot?” Rose asked confused.

“Stop it,” the Doctor hissed.

“Why so sensitive, Doctor?” the Master mocked.

“Guys, what’s goin’ on?” she prompted.

“Rose, has he done this before?” the Doctor asked, his anger still calm.

Something seemed to click in her, because she froze. Then she pulled her arm out of the Master’s grip annoyed to drive her hands over face, covering a moan. “Yes,” she finally admitted. “It’s so we can work. But I’m doing a lot on my own by now.”

“See?” the Master said gleefully. “It’s all perfectly innocent … just like her innocent mind.”

“Seriously, shut up,” Rose snapped at him and the Doctor saw disgust in her face.

“Language, pet,” he countered, and it was threatening underneath the joke.

The Doctor’s hearts clenched with hurt and the need to protect her. He still didn’t know what happened and he still didn’t understand why their looks were linked to each other after their little exchange, but Rose was the one eventually breaking away, focusing on the Doctor again.

She took a breath. “It’s fine, I promise,” she assured him, but her eyes told him there was a whole other story behind it.

Right now, however, she didn’t want to discuss it. So he simply asked, “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

She was determined enough to convince him. For now.

<>

The Master pulled her to him again, the spark in his eyes so disgustingly dark. “You’re obnoxious,” she whispered.

He hummed, grinning intimately, and drove his hands to her temples. He slipped in effortlessly and she felt him buzz. Goddammit, he thrived on this. Poking around in wounds, driving people insane. She felt it so clearly and intense, she was disorientated for a moment.

Dial it down a notch, she asked him, knowing he could hear that.

He lifted his head, his mouth close to her forehead. “Now why would I do that?” he mumbled against her skin and she rolled her eyes.

“Is it working or not?” she snapped louder.

He slipped out, slowly, lifting her head to make her look at him. She glared at him, hating how gentle he was on his way out. He made everything with intention, but it was rarely genuine. “See for yourself,” he grinned, separating his hands from her skin to point at the Chronon-Anchor.

She sighed, but walked to the machine. Without looking at the Doctor. To be honest, she couldn’t right now. He was asking so many questions without words and it wasn’t the time for it. So she went to the machine and put her hand on the panel, activating her ring before. The familiar rush run through her, she felt the lights align and … she felt the Doctor’s TARDIS. She indeed felt their feeble bond.

A smile broke free on her face and tears shot up her eyes. “Oh my God,” she whispered. It had been so long since she last felt her. Suddenly even more aware of how she felt. Rose separated her hand and shut off her ring, lastly searching for the Doctor after all. Her smile warm and watery. “I missed your TARDIS.”

She saw the sentiment mirrored in his face, like he wanted to smile, but everything was a bit much. Also longing. Regret.

“So the TARDISes are connected,” the Master threw in impatiently, walking to the console. “Let’s see if we can fix these particular rifts.”

<>

They did. And it mostly worked.

The Doctor observed how Rose did it, both in data and in reality. And he had to admit – he was in awe of her.

He was also worried sick.

First, when she started. Seeing her getting into a state that was unnatural for her, like she was being swept away.

Then, when the Master walked to her to get into her mind. So she could disconnect him from the Time Matrix on this particular point. He had mixed feelings about this, because obviously, Rose knew exactly what to do, which was reassuring. But he got a vibe from her that this mental connecting had a more complex background she didn’t want to address right now. Also – or maybe because of this – he was surprised at the underlying understanding between them. The Master’s calming whisper of ‘It’s fine, you know this.’ confused him. His, well, let’s say not-malicious grin after she mumbled ‘You’re always so disorientating.’ confused him too.

And lastly, he was worried after they were done and she collapsed in the Master’s arms. The Doctor came rushing closer, his hearts thundering against his chest. The Master had slowly knelt down, holding her head and the Doctor was about to scream at him. But Rose came around.

“Ugh,” she made annoyed.

“You alright?” the Master mumbled.

“Yeah, just give me a sec.” She drove her hand over her face.

“Rose?” the Doctor asked.

That made her eyes blink open and, after a moment, sit up herself, getting out of the Master’s hold. He didn’t know what he expected, but she smiled and straight-up shifted forwards to hug him, all of them kneeling. It made the Doctor forget why he was tense and he just wound his arms tightly around her like that could protect her. His head sunk and he smelled her scent, seeking comfort therein. “I’m fine,” he heard her whisper. And he tightened his grip just a bit more.

<>

There were still problems they were going through. Still unknown variables. Still hiccups that made the Doctor insist that they’d sort it out, before it could get too dangerous for Rose. He saw how Rose’s eyes glistened at that. Only briefly, she was fast on blinking it away. But she smiled at him with so much gratitude, it both warmed and ached him.

Still, he continued to notice – something in her and the Master’s interaction. And the more he focused on it, the more he noticed.

The Master suppressed a sigh, letting his head drop briefly. “You can manage that, you know,” he said to Rose.

“You only say this, because you’re too lazy to make sure,” she nagged, walking to him to the console. “Move a bit, would you?”

He grinned, only moving a nudge as she shifted to the display. “Why bother with those details?” he purred.

She huffed. “You don’t have to be a constant pain in the arse, ever thought of that?” It should have sounded purely exasperated. But there was a gleam in her eyes that defused it quite a bit.

And he mirrored it. “Didn’t even occur to me,” he hissed and the Doctor saw it – the bit back grin on her lips. Not coming out. Still there.

He questioned what he was witnessing, and while it was subtle and didn’t change the undercurrent graveness of the situation – it still came up again and again.

They built a rudimentary simulator for different rifts, one where Rose had mental influence – to a certain point. “You could’ve built that by the way,” she said to the Master at some point, anger underneath. “Instead of throwing me in all these scenarios that could have killed me.”

The Master was on the console, not looking up. “It’s a poor substitute,” he said. “I’m only entertaining this, so the Doctor is realising that the data we win through this is insufficient.”

“We’ll see about that,” he gave back.

“It’s a waste of time. Also,” he said to Rose who was concentrating on the current simulation, her ring active, “watch your balance.”

“I am watching,” she shot back.

“Watch better.”

“Arsehole,” she mumbled.

“You’re testy,” the Master commented as if he was surprised.

“You make me testy,” she snapped and the Doctor watched the Master walk to the little table on the side of the room. He came back and put down a cup in front of her table. Then pulled her hand with the ring to him to deactivated it. “Wha’ …” Rose made confused when her light died out.

The Master put a gush of sugar in the cup. “Drink that. You'll be in a better mood afterwards.” He walked past her. But as the Doctor watched her, she suppressed an eye-roll, but also a grin – again.

It was like a twisted kind of camaraderie. A strange partnership born out of necessity, yes, but one that seemed to have developed a dynamic all its own. And the Doctor didn’t quite know how to react to it. He fought for her safety and it was obvious that the Master had taken broad liberties with it before. But apart from that – he was really kind of dumbstruck.

“Doctor?” Rose’s voice broke through his thoughts, pulling his attention back. She was looking at him now, her brows furrowed.

Right. She had asked him something. About the accuracy of the simulation. “I can improve it, just wait a second.”

He did. He tried to focus on the task at hand for now.

<>

The Doctor sat cross-legged on the grassy ground at some point, leaning back against the cool exterior of his TARDIS, staring out at the twilight horizon of the quiet planet where they were parked. The stars above blinked into view one by one, but his thoughts were far away, tangled up in the recent past and the uneasy present. His mind buzzed with too many questions, most of which centring on Rose. And the Master.

He reminded himself again and again – that she seemed okay. Under the circumstances. He needed to reassure himself of it. Maybe partly out of guilt. But also because he cared so deeply for her.

But he couldn’t ignore the other signs he saw. The steeliness in her features. In fleeting moments where she was almost detached. There were little moments she was shutting down, retreading in order to not combust. Those were the ones that worried him. She somehow seemed to have found a way to endure it all. But he wondered at what cost.

He failed to find her. He had barely slept, to be honest. He had felt like crap. Hating himself. Hating the universe. And hating the Master. Knowing how cruel and cold he could be.

He failed. And he could not fail again.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there when he heard the soft crunch of footsteps approaching. He recognised her. Light and slow steps. He looked up, still every time so happy that she was really there.

Rose simply came closer and settled down next to him, close enough for their shoulders to brush, but she didn’t say anything right away. They just sat there in the quiet, letting the natural sounds of the planet – gentle rustling leaves, the distant chirp of something small and harmless – fill the silence between them.

A few hours ago, she had stormed outside, claiming to need air. With the Master reminding her that she can’t go far and she sharply responding that she fucking well knew.

He feebly smiled at her. “He let you go?”

“I didn’t ask,” she answered, still looking onward.

There was only one word that came to mind when he watched her. “Brave.”

She shrugged. “What’s he gonna do?” she asked like it was nothing, when her exhausted features told a different story.

What would he going to do, indeed. What did he already do?

For a while, neither of them spoke. Watching the quiet as if they wanted to forget why they were actually here. The Doctor stole a glance at her out of the corner of his eye at some point. He couldn’t help but observing her. She looked calm, but there was something underneath, some weight she was carrying. He could see it in the way she held herself, in the occasional flicker of emotion she couldn’t quite hide, when her composure flickered. He hated that he hadn’t been there for her when she had needed him most.

Eventually, Rose broke the silence.

“Bit strange, isn’t it?” she murmured, her eyes on the horizon. “Being here. Like old times but … not.”

The Doctor nodded, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “Yeah. It’s … different.”

Rose didn’t respond immediately, but he could feel the way she was processing everything. Like she wanted to say something, fiddling with her fingers, chewing her teeth. And finally, she murmured the words. “I saw you.” He blinked, tilting his head. And when she now looked at him, a smile formed on her lips but it showed so much pain. “A few months back. It was a market. Posh one.” She bit her lip for a moment. “I was there. And I saw you.”

The words were like a kick in his stomach. Only slowly acknowledging what that meant. He sighed, his eyes closed and his head thudded back against the TARDIS wall. “Dammit, I should’ve … searched better, stayed longer, I should have …”

“Hey,” she reached for his hand. “Remember what I told you back then? None of this is your fault.”

His chest hurt at the way she tried to comfort him. It was so wrong. “Where were you?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. It wouldn’t have changed anything. He …” she interrupted herself, swallowing. “He threatened to kill everyone if I would’ve run to you.”

His whole body tensed up in deep, hot anger. He had to take a deep breath to not jump up and shout at him. Or do worse.

She must have looked right through him, because she tightened her grip on him. Her smile showing up again. “It was still good seeing you there. No matter how much it hurt. Because it gave me hope.” Her lips quivered and he saw faint water in her eyes. “That you were even searching.”

His other hand landed on hers, enveloping it. “I did. I promise you, I did. All the bloody time.” He shook his head. “There wasn’t a day I wasn’t thinking about you.”

There were more tears she refused to let fall. “Me neither,” she whispered.

He wanted to make it up to her so badly, knowing he could never do that. But right now, he wanted to know more. “Rose …” he began, his voice low, uncertain. “Has he …?” He trailed off, not sure how to phrase it, how to ask the question that had been gnawing at him since earlier. “Has the Master ever … hurt you? With telepathy, I mean.”

He didn’t need to explain further. He knew she’d understand what he was asking. He hated the thought of it, hated the idea that the Master might have done something to her, used his abilities to harm her. And the Master was capable of it. He always had been.

Rose tensed beside him, the question hanging heavily in the air between them. For a moment, she didn’t say anything, and the Doctor’s hearts clenched painfully in his chest, fearing her answer.

Finally, Rose let out a slow breath, her voice quiet but steady. “Yeah. He has.”

The Doctor closed his eyes briefly, feeling the familiar surge of anger rise up inside him. He wanted to punch something, to tear down whatever defences the Master had built around himself and make him pay for hurting her. But instead, he kept his voice calm, as much for her sake as for his own. “How bad?” he asked softly, though part of him didn’t want to know the answer.

Rose hesitated, her gaze faltering, with a smile that wasn’t one, but only showed how utterly lost she felt. “I dunno,” her voice shuddered. “I don’t know anything about telepathy.”

The Doctor didn’t know if she wanted to protect herself – or him. Either way, it was wrong. “But you know how it felt,” he quietly pointed out, nudging her without pushing.

Her sigh was deep and heavy, her eyes wandered to the horizon again. He was glad she didn’t let go of his hand. “It was bad,” she admitted. “He … he wanted control, you know? Wanted to put me in my place. And he’s good at it. He knows how to get inside your head and tear you apart.”

The Doctor’s jaw clenched and he couldn’t stay focused on her, his eyes skimming, the fury simmering dangerously close beneath the surface. But Rose wasn’t done.

“But it didn’t … last. It’s not like that now.”

The Doctor turned to look at her again, his eyes searching her face. “I’ve witnessed that you’re not hurting. Not physically at least. So how did it change?”

Rose’s lips twitched, something between a bitter smile and a sigh. “It’s hard to explain,” she lost her voice, before regaining it again. “I mean, at first he used it to hurt me, to make me feel helpless. But … over time, it changed. I dunno, probably because I’m more useful that way.”

She paused, and the Doctor could see the conflicting emotions flickering across her face – the confusion, the frustration, and something else. Something deeper. He considered his words, but honestly, he did not have them.

“It’s … strange,” she added after a moment and now she was searching him. Asking. As if he had the answers to all her questions she hadn’t even spoken. “Sometimes, I can tell he’s kinda curious. And other times, I think he’s trying to connect. As much as he can, anyway.”

The Doctor swallowed hard, his chest aching at the thought of Rose having to endure that. Trying to navigate someone else in your mind when you’re not even telepathic. And also someone as ruthless as the Master. “You shouldn’t have to go through any of that,” he said softly, his voice thick with regret.

“I know,” Rose said, her expression softening. “But it’s not like I had a choice, did I?”

There was a long pause, both of them lost in their own thoughts. The Doctor’s mind was a storm of conflicting emotions – anger at the Master, guilt for not being there, sorrow for what Rose had been through. But beneath it all, there was a quiet awe at how strong she was. She had survived all of it, and somehow, she had come out of it still Rose. Still kind, still compassionate, still so very her, trying to do the right thing even after everything.

He sighed, his voice low. “I’m sorry, Rose. For everything. I should’ve been there.”

She swallowed and opened her mouth, but obviously wasn’t sure what to say. Overwhelmed. “You’re here now,” she finally said without a voice. “That’s what matters.”

He nodded. Like a promise. That he won’t leave her. They sat in silence again, the weight of everything hanging in the air. But there was something comforting, too, in their mutual presence. It was more important than a thousand words right now.

Eventually, Rose leaned her head on his shoulder, and the Doctor wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. He could feel the warmth of her against him, the steady rise and fall of her breathing. For a moment, he allowed himself to just be there with her, to let the past and the future slip away and focus on the simple, comforting reality of being together again.

<>

Once Rose had said her goodnights and disappeared into the corridor toward the sleeping quarters, the Doctor and the Master remained behind in the TARDIS control room. Trying to sharpen the simulation. The Doctor wasn’t sure how long the Master would play along with this before insisting to just try it out.

“Believe me when I say the most efficient method is to just do it,” he said at some point.

The Doctor had had a bit of time to push all his anger away, but his words brought it all up again. “Believe me when I say I don’t care.”

He saw it out of the corner of his eyes, how the Master crossed his arms and smirked at him. But was obviously considering his words. “If it makes you terribly happy, I might be able to do a mental simulation. Not sure about the specifics, but it shouldn’t be impossible.”

The Doctor stilled. Not looking up.

He knew that the Master’s mental abilities were sophisticated. He knew he was really good at it. But in the light of what he knew, he just couldn’t be impressed. He took a tense breath. “When were you going to tell me?” he said flippant, adjusting something on his console.

He felt him frown. “What, that this would be an option?”

The Doctor looked up, his tone hardening. “About what you did to Rose,” he said icily. “About forcing your way into her mind.”

After a heartbeat, the Master’s smirk deepened slightly, but really, his eyes darkened. “Didn’t know I have to account for how I save the universe.”

A cold laugh snorted out of the Doctor’s mouth, he shook his head. “Must be nice. So much audacity. Must be easier to live one’s life that way.”

“You should try it,” he hissed, wrinkling his nose for a moment, before also leaning on his console.

“You tortured her,” the Doctor threw in the room, feeling so damn cold inside. He flirted with the idea to attack his counterpart right here and now.

“Torture’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?” he quipped, and then peered up, a challenging grin on his lips. “You know she tried to kill me?”

The Doctor flinched, but didn’t need long to react. “With good reason, I’m sure.”

He straightened up. “However that might be – it just shows it was necessary at the time.”

The Doctor’s jaw clenched. “Do you really believe that?”

“It’s a fact,” he shot back.

“It doesn’t justify it,” he whispered in disbelieve. “Nothing can justify that.”

“Justify?” The Master echoed, his voice dripping with disdain. “Oh, Doctor, you should know I don’t care about justifications. I do what I need to do to come out on top.”

The Doctor took a step forward, his voice incisive. “She is not something you can use and discard when it suits you.”

“Then how come I did use her,” he shot back coldly and the Doctor felt it bristle under his skin, his whole body. “What are you going to do about it, Doctor?” the Master taunted, his voice sharp. “You can’t undo the past. She’s still linked to my ship, and you know as well as I do that she’ll stay that way as long as I need her.”

The Doctor’s eyes darkened further, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. “If you ever hurt her again,” the Doctor said, his voice so calm it sent a chill through the room, “I will make you regret it.”

The Doctor felt fire behind his eyes and maybe the Master saw that. Maybe he saw how there was something else lurking beneath the surface, something more dangerous than the Master had anticipated. The version of the Doctor that would stop at nothing to protect the people he cared about. The Master forced a laugh, but it rang uncharacteristically hollow. “You wouldn’t. You’re too noble for that.”

The Doctor’s eyes never left his, unwavering, deadly. “Try me.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them crackled with tension. A tension originated from the fact that they both would go to great lengths to get what they wanted. Both knowing, if they went a step too far, it could all collapse.

And that might be something they both wouldn’t risk yet.

Chapter Text

Rose was sleeping better. Since the Doctor was in the picture again. Probably because she felt safer. She felt like there was hope again. She felt like she wasn’t alone.

So when she lay in her bed, somewhere in her dreams, she noticed the shaking of her arm, but was slow in actually realising it. “Seven hours are enough, come on,” the Master prompted.

Rose groaned and put her pillow over her head in protest. He pulled it away against her feeble attempts to keep it. “Now, now,” he said, partly amused. “You want this to move forward, don’t you?”

“Tell me the truth,” she mumbled against the mattress, gazing up to him as he sat there on her bed. “You like irritating me this way.”

His grin grew. “I like irritating you in any way.”

She heavily sighed. “So, anything in particular?” His grin changed. Maybe a bit more cold. Or more calculating. But it instantly made her more awake and she sat up, her demeanour shifted. She nudged herself back just a bit so she could lean against the wall there. “What?” she asked warily.

“I want you to tell the Doctor you’re going to take on these other rifts.”

She missed a beat. And then huffed. “Of course,” she mumbled. “You don’t want him to be a nuisance to you anymore.”

He tilted his head. “Pretty much.”

Her eyes glinted. “And you want me to convince him I’d take that risk, because otherwise he would never do that. Because he cares.”

“You’re so clever,” he partly mocked. “So you’ll do it?”

She shrugged defiantly. “Why should I?”

“Why shouldn’t you?”

“Because it’s dangerous?” she taunted.

“Rose,” he empathised and she was irritated by his shift of tone. No mocking, just truth. “It’s what you’ve done before.” She hated how he skimmed her face softly, she felt oddly vulnerable for a second. “You’ve got this.”

She felt the tension in her fingers that had suddenly grabbed the blanket. She tried to loosen it. “Arsehole,” she whispered and he seemed genuinely surprised, even if amused.

“Why?” he chuckled.

“Because you’re only saying this to get what you want.”

“Even if,” he snickered, briefly looking away into the room. Before his head turned back, his eyes settled on her again. His voice soft. “I also mean it.”

She swallowed, hating all this. “Yeah, and what’s the worst that could happen?” she murmured sarcastically. “Me dying isn’t that big of a deal, is it?”

“You’re not dying,” he countered like it was ridiculous. “Rose,” he said as she looked away in anger. “Hey.” His hand found her chin, turning her head right back. She partly pulled back, but not enough for him to lose his touch. “Be honest with yourself here. This could all be over soon. So what is it that you want?”

Oh, dammit. He was good at this.

<>

“I’m telling him he can come over,” the Master said after they got into the control room. Rose fell into the chair, arms and legs crossed, frowning. “How are you feeling?” he asked after a beat, slowly stepping closer.

“Manipulated.”

He chuckled. “Is it manipulation if you’re aware of it?” he drawled, lastly standing right in front of her, hands slid into his pockets. “And if you want it too?”

She glared up at him. “Not sure want is the right word.”

“Isn’t everything about want?” he mumbled.

“You are all about want,” she snapped.

He hummed approving, when the Doctor came in. Not moving or looking away from her when he greeted him. “How nice of you to join us.”

Rose was suddenly uncomfortable with how he stood there, right in front of her, towering over her. Uncomfortable of how it might look. Especially when his eyes moved, like pointing to Doctor, prompting her.

So she stood up, walking past him, closing in on the Doctor. He seemed already tense. “Doctor,” she started, but didn’t quite knew how to continue. Best trying to be open. “The Master wants me to convince you that I should just continue with the rifts since it’s essentially what I have done the whole time.”

A knowing, yet bitter grin emerged on his face, his head fell back with a faint roll of his eyes. “Did he,” he said drily.

“Way to be subtle, Rose,” the Master snickered.

“I don’t want to be subtle,” she looked back at him. “I want to be honest.”

“Then be honest,” he countered with a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

“We’re not doing this,” the Doctor almost sighed, but it was determined.

“Doctor,” she said carefully, hesitantly. “He kind of has a point.”

His mouth widened in a kind-of-grin, but it was in disbelieve. “No,” he empathised. “He has not.”

“He has, tho’.”

“Look, I don’t know what happened in the last hours, but whatever he said to convince you-”

“What, you think I’m a puppet?” she shot back, probably sharper than she wanted. Maybe because she expected it. Maybe because she feared the same thing on some level. But maybe also because ultimately, she knew the Master was right. But the Master’s chuckle in the background didn’t make this better. “Oh, shut up,” she snapped at him.

“I don’t think that,” the Doctor answered after he had recovered from her little outburst. “Then tell me. What changed your mind?”

His tone was quiet and honest. Open and genuine. That relieved her. “I know there are many variables I can’t predict. But I have experience handling the unexpected. And I might say – I’m kinda good at it.” She smiled with a soft wink, taking out tension. Glad he faintly mirrored it. “And if there’s one thing in this universe that’s on the top of the list of things I want – it’s getting this done. I believe in me.” She was aware her question was a little unfair, but it was also the way she felt. So she asked. “Do you?”

<>

They did it.

They continued closing the rifts, and mostly it worked. There were little problems. Discussions. Threats. But mostly, it worked.

Sometimes, she caught the Doctor’s worried look on the data. Maybe a little bit of sorrow. Like he wasn’t convinced that her well-being was guaranteed, also long-term consequences. But he pushed that away to not stand in her way.

Her heart swelled when she caught those moments. Also when he noticed her and then pushed it away to smile at her.

She felt a deep, raw affinity for him. In whatever way. There was no doubt about it.

She considered asking a few times. But honestly, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. She wanted to continue.

<>

The Master groaned, letting his head fell back on his chair. They all sat around the console. “Slight problem about my original connection point to the Time Matrix.”

Rose wouldn’t lie, her heart dropped a bit. They worked these last connection points really well, so she really didn’t want to hear this. “What is it?”

“The density point of its chronon particles is on another level, nothing like you’ve seen so far. We can’t just compare the energy extrapolation you need for this to the other connection points. The particle feedback might be different.”

“English, please,” she scrubbed her head.

“It means it’s unpredictable,” the Doctor filled in. “And there’s no data to make it more predictable.”

“So if I try to do my thing – anything could happen?”

The Master took his cup. “Pretty much.”

Oh.

She frowned, thinking. “Is there a way to collect data?”

“Yes,” the Master said, but she saw the Doctor rolling his eyes, leaning back on his chair. But he didn’t interrupt.

“What then?” she therefore asked.

“We go looking,” the Master shrugged. “Just the way we did before.”

“But you said it’s unpredictable.”

“It is. But that’s the way.”

Great.

Rose tried to think rationally. “This is the last connection point, yeah? We do this, it’s done?”

The Master paused. But finally nodded.

She folded her hands to lean her mouth on them, considering. Trying to tamper down fear. Staring into nothingness.

“It’s your decision, Rose,” she heard the Doctor say. Calmly.

She glanced at him. Considering asking his opinion. But it was true – it was her decision only.

So she sighed. And felt herself nod. “Let’s see what there is.” The Master sprung already up and the next moment, he had her wrist in her hand, pulling her up. “Oi!” she protested annoyed, but ultimately kept up until they were near the Chronon-Anchor. “Was that necessary?” she mumbled like that answer was clearly no.

“Don’t you ever get tired of asking me stuff like that?” he grinned with his fingers under her chin and she wanted to shove them away.

“Not as long as you don’t get tired of doing stuff like that,” she crunched.

“Come on now,” he ignored that. “Use your ring.”

She bit back a comment. She just wanted this to get over with. So she activated her ring, accustoming. And then reached for the Chronon-Anchor. He immediately slid his hands on her temple and inside her mind.

He was a lot in her mind lately. When he went in like that, it was still strange on some level, but on another it felt more and more like everything was slapping into place. They got used to each other and adapted to another. At least in this specific goal.

When they lifted the shield, she saw a rift forming. And right from the start she felt this one being – different. Maybe it was only a matter of perception so her brain could process it, but while the other rifts had a light yellow glow, she perceived this one as blue. “S’different,” she whispered absently.

He missed a beat. “Yeah.”

He was restrained. Maybe just analysing. But maybe also wary. She felt him holding her back, when she wanted to do her routine, getting closer. “Wait,” he murmured. “You feel the tent?”

He meant the energy field from both TARDISes to balance all this energy out. She tried to focus on that. “It’s … shifting.” She wasn’t sure if it’s the right word, it probably never was. But it was the best she could come up with right now.

“Yes,” he confirmed and she didn’t expect him to slid out again so soon, leaving her a little disorientated.

He had already turned away and walked to the Doctor. “It’s unstable, you’ll have to make constant adjustments on your TARDIS.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen it,” he answered in thought, apparently skimming the data he just collected from their brief research right now. After a moment, he sighed, leaning back, searching for her. “Just so you have all information – it’s still unpredictable what will happen there.”

She smiled at him, even if it was pinched. “I get it. But the chance of ending this now – is worth it.”

He mirrored her smile, understanding but worried. Eventually he got on his feet and walked to the door. “I’ll be ready in a second.”

As soon as the TARDIS door closed, the Master turned around, stepping closer again. She didn’t really focus on him, her head was in a bit of a rush. Could this be it? Could this be the end?

The pressure felt unreal and she suddenly heard her heartbeat speed up on the Chronon-Anchor behind her.

“Hey,” his steady voice pulled her back to him, his hands on her cheeks did too and she didn’t know if she found them calming or unnerving. “What’s going on in your head?”

“You could just look,” it slipped out before thinking. It was bitter and sassy, barely dressed up as a joke.

He huffed with a grin that was sharp. Too close for comfort. “True,” he granted. “Sorry for trying to be considerate.”

Considerate, she thought acrimoniously. He wouldn’t even know what that meant. “You’re never considerate,” she said, but it was timid.

He tilted his head, his eyes wandered over her face in a way his fingers wandered over her jaw – like to tempt her with something. Or be tempted. “I can be considerate,” he disagreed, his words almost a murmur. When he finally found her eyes again. “Tell me.”

“You know what,” she sighed. “I don’t know how this will end.”

Only after the slight amusement in his eyes, she realised her words had been really general.

Well, maybe she had meant it that way.

He seemed to consider his words. “Would it be reassuring to you if I promised – to not leave you alone in this,” he referred to this last rift. Swallowing lightly before adding, “To stay with you.”

It was like a promise. A pledge that made her feel many, also conflicting things. But right now – she wanted it. She needed it. She needed to be sure he wouldn’t just sacrifice her. Or dismiss her. And she didn’t entirely know why, but she believed him right now. Accepting this weird sensation of gratitude she felt towards him. “It would,” she managed to say.

The corners of his mouth formed a small smile. “I’ll stay with you,” he repeated and she fought against a shiver. Then, she nodded.

He slipped inside and she let herself carry away to this new challenge. She didn’t know whether she had activated her ring or he, but it let her sharpen her focus. She paid attention to the ‘tent’ between the TARDISes this time. Feeling it stabilise again and again – the Doctor’s doing.

When they lifted the shield, she saw the rift form. Shimmering blue. She already felt its impact, like wind from an approaching storm racing towards her.

Man, he was megalomaniac. What he’s done, that was such a pervasive intrusion of the natural order of things. He was completely bonkers.

“Yes, I am. Moving on,” he prompted her. She felt him being both amused and annoyed.

But he was right. She needed to lean in. Stretch out to this rift to sew it up like she did with all the others.

She already felt it being different. If you’d compare it to actual sewing, it was like her needles didn’t hit the way they were supposed to. Or more like she couldn’t be sure. It felt strange, but the rift seemed to close anyway. She felt the Master there, reassuring her to continue. She sent him her wariness. It was like she wasn’t really seeing what she was doing. But after the rift closed, she turned to him, trying to disconnect him from the Time Matrix. Reaching through his essence.

It was harder than usual. Even more disorientating. And hot.

Jesus.

“Rose?” she heard him say.

Sweat broke out, she started to shiver. “Something’s wrong.”

She saw the rift break again, like the seam was popping open, bit by bit. She felt him pulling her back, shielding her, but it still hit her, mentally and physically. They crashed on the TARDIS floor, explosions over their heads.

“Stay low,” he growled but sprung up himself, running to the Anchor.

Her first instinct was to jump up as well, but she physically couldn’t. Only after a few breaths she felt herself coming back into her body. She sensed it. The shield coming up again. But there would be one last strike, one last explosion. It was like she saw it happen before it happened.

She leaped up, running. “Look out!” she screamed, running into him, whanging him.

The strike came out of the Chronon-Anchor. An explosion hit them. Something hit her as she crashed to the ground. Her body hurt, her head hurt.

Then, the noise vanished. It became quiet.

His hands were on her face and her shoulder. “You awake? Can you hear me?” he prompted, voice tight.

“Yeah,” she growled.

Something beeped and the Master stood up to stride to the console. Answering the call. “Slight problem,” he obviously told the Doctor. “We have to take a break.”

“What happened?” came through the speaker.

“It fired back on us. I’ll send you the data.”

“Is Rose okay?”

He looked at her, his face unreadable to her. “She’ll be okay.”

A short pause. “Can I come over?”

“No.” With that he cut him short, ending the call and walking back to her, crouching down.

She absently touched her head, seeing her fingers come back red. “Oh, nice,” she quipped drily, still reeling from this whole experience. “What happened?”

“We’ll go through it later, we bring you to the infirmary first.”

Well, she wouldn’t argue.

<>

The infirmary was quiet, a stark contrast to the uproar that had raged moments earlier. Rose sat on the edge of a metal examination table, her legs swinging nervously as she tried to steady her breathing. Blood trickled down from the gash on her forehead, warm and sticky, and her head throbbed with every beat of her pulse. She pressed a hand against the cut, maybe to examine its size, wincing at the sharp sting, her vision blurring slightly from the pain.

The Master had rummaged around, but came back to glance at her wound again, his eyes narrowing in assessment, and for a brief moment, she saw something like concern flicker in his gaze – quick and fleeting, like a shadow that never fully formed.

Without a word, he walked over to the small cabinet on the wall and began gathering supplies. Antiseptic, gauze, a suture kit. The sounds of clinking metal and tearing bandages filled the silence, each noise magnified in the stillness of the room. Rose watched him, feeling a little strange in that unusual silence that had stretched between them. It was heavy. Like if she moved too fast – something would shift.

“You’re lucky,” he eventually said, his voice almost sounding loud even if it was low and calm. “A little deeper, and you’d have needed more than a few stitches to keep your pretty little head intact.”

Rose settled for a crooked, half-hearted smile. “Yeah, I’m real lucky,” she muttered, her tone flat.

The Master didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he pulled up a chair in front of her. Close. So close that his knees were on either side of her legs. He set the supplies down on the table next to her. His movements were precise, almost delicate, and Rose found herself hyper-aware of every little shift – the way his sleeves rolled back just enough to reveal the tendons in his wrists, the subtle concentration in his expression as he prepared the antiseptic.

It wasn’t the first time she had become super aware of him. Of how he moved around her. It wasn’t the first time it had affected her.

But she hadn’t expected it now.

She tried to steady her nerves, nervous seemingly out of nowhere, but the silence harboured – a strange tension. One she couldn’t pinpoint. The proximity made her feel exposed in a way she apparently wasn’t prepared for. Maybe because he was uncharacteristically restrained and she didn’t know what it meant.

“This is going to sting,” he warned, just a quiet acknowledgment of what was to come. He dipped a piece of gauze into the antiseptic, and then, with a tenderness that felt entirely out of place, he reached up and gently tilted her chin so he could see the wound better. Rose flinched at the touch, but she didn’t pull away. She kept her eyes fixed on a spot just over his shoulder, unable to meet his gaze. The cool burn of the antiseptic against her skin was sharp, but it wasn’t the worst pain she’d felt in these last months. Not by a long shot.

The Master worked in silence, dabbing at the cut with careful precision. Each touch was light, deliberate. “I’m going to add some local anaesthesia,” he added quietly, taking a small device from the table.

He raised his arm, the device went to her head. “Okay,” she simply replied, her voice timid. His fingers brushed against her skin, reminding her again of how close they were, making her aware of his scent and something radiating off him that was unmistakably him. Maybe it was just his emanation. His presence. He had a demanding, sometimes captivating presence, she couldn’t deny that. It was just maddening how her mind seemed to circle around a way to explain it when she simultaneously didn’t want to think about it at all.

“You’re quieter than usual,” the Master observed, his voice breaking the silence but not the spell.

She still didn’t look at him. “You too.”

He hummed, not denying it. Then picking up the suture needle, threading it with deft hands, careful but practised. “Tell me if it still hurts.”

She didn’t know why these words elicited something in her she couldn’t name or classify. It was still absurd to her that he of all people would have regards for her pain. And at the same time, his soft words slithered beneath her skin and made her chest clench in a not entirely bad way. Like he was two people to her.

Still, she nodded, swallowing hard as he moved closer. His face hovering near hers, and she couldn’t help finally looking at him. She could faintly feel his breath. Steady and calm. His eyes still focused.

The first prick of the needle made her flinch, but not really in pain. It was just weird, because despite being numb, she felt what he was doing. He still hesitated, his fingers stilled. “Alright?” he murmured after a beat.

Her eyes fell close. He shouldn’t ask her that. Should he?

“S’fine, just feels weird. But it’s fine,” she almost whispered. So he continued. It couldn’t have been that long, but they stayed like that for what felt like hours, locked in a strange, quiet rhythm. She tried to shift her focus away, on anything else – the TARDIS, the room, the equipment. But it always came back to him, the impossible closeness between them, his gentle movements, his throat, his goddamn impenetrable look. She couldn’t read him.

“You’ve done this before,” she said, breaking the silence. It wasn’t really a question, but she needed to fill the empty space with something, anything that would distract her from the gnawing discomfort of the moment.

He didn’t look at her, but a faint, almost wistful smile tugged at his lips. “You’re not wrong,” he replied. “There might have been occasions I’ve had to patch myself up. Or others.”

“Others?” Rose repeated, the word slipping out before she could stop it. She wanted to keep talking, and when she found out more about him, all the better.

His eyes now flicked to hers, and she instantly got caught in it. “Yeah, others,” he affirmed. “I lived for over nine hundred years, of course, there were others.”

“Other prisoners, I’m sure.” She didn’t even know if she was teasing.

He grinned anyway. But it was tame. Everything about him was tame right now, she didn’t know what to do with that. “Don’t worry, Rose, you’re my favourite,” he chaffed and she felt her skin bristle.

“That’s not a compliment,” she told him despite knowing he wasn’t serious.

His eyes jumped to her forehead again. “Maybe not,” he admitted, the words a murmur. When he finished the final stitch, he put the tool away and got another gauze pad. One of his hands unexpectedly found her neck, thumb on her cheek, to adjust her head and she suppressed a little shudder in her breath. She wished it wouldn’t feel so intimate.

And she wished she would hate it more.

She wished it wouldn’t remind her of all the things she mostly managed to push away. Like damn card tables. Or like being enveloped in his hands underneath thick jackets and blankets. Gentle, alluring touches on her skin, soft breath on her lips. On the brink of giving in to him – the last place she should seek comfort.

His other hand with the gauze gently wiped away the last traces of blood. When he was done, his hand on her neck lingered, his eyes dropped to hers. Like making sure she was okay. Or making sure … something else. Searching. Resting on her like he wanted something from her. Like his hand was there to pull her closer. And her heart skipped a beat. But finally, his hands pulled away, and he leaned back on his chair, just slightly. Putting distance between them that felt both too much and not enough. “There,” he said, his voice reverting to its usual detached tone, though it lacked its usual bite. “Good as new.”

Rose exhaled in slight confusion before she touched the stitches, her fingertips grazing the neat row he’d made. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for something she couldn’t name. “Thank you,” she said, the words small but sincere.

“We add some dermal regeneration,” he elaborated. “There won’t be a scar.”

Her lids fluttered slightly. “None you can see,” she countered, creating a new, heavy silence. He didn’t avoid her look. He never did. He really had no illusion of who he was or what he did, hadn’t he? He never backed off when she confronted him with it.

Still, after a moment, his gaze dropped to her wrist, noticing a faint cut she had there. Without asking, he reached for her arm, his fingers brushing her skin with a lightness that made her part her lips in order to hide her small, feeble gasp.

“I missed one,” he murmured, observing it like he contemplated something. Rose didn’t know what. He gently turned her wrist, inspecting the shallow wound as if it were of grave importance. Rose watched him, biting her lip as she tried to ignore the sudden, jarring ardency of the moment, like the walls between them were perilously thin. Like if one of them decided to step further, it would break in.

“It’s nothing,” she said, her voice fragile. “Barely a scratch.”

The Master didn’t let go. His thumb traced the edges of the cut, almost absently, but the touch was oddly tender. She wanted to do something. Maybe stop him. But she felt hamstrung.

He finally looked up at her, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “You really are reckless, you know that?” he said and paused like he was considering his words. “You could have died back there, do you realise that?”

She frowned, ever so slightly. Was that the reason he appeared so in thought this whole time? But what was it? Him marvelling at her recklessness? Worry that he’d lose his weapon?

“If you would have died, the universe would collapse and I would have died anyway,” she reasoned.

He suppressed his grin, not quite succeeding. Or maybe he didn’t quite wanted it to. “Right. That’s what you thought in that split of a second?”

Her frown deepened. “What are you getting at?”

He shook his head once. “Nothing, really. Your empathy is just astonishing to me.”

It could have sounded like a compliment. And while she imagined to see an actual form of awe, it wasn’t quite it. “Me being empathetic is amusing to you,” she realised.

He chuckled under his breath. “In parts.”

She got annoyed. “Well, if I wasn’t, your arse would be dead, don’t know what’s so funny about that.”

“Nothing, I’m not making fun of you,” he empathised, his grin wasn’t venomous.

“Aren’t you, tho’?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” he winked. “Like you said, I could be dead otherwise.”

“Then what are you poking fun at?”

He missed a beat. His smile still there, but fainting. “Actually, I believe myself.”

Rose blinked. She didn’t know what to make of it. But he caught her again with his eyes staring at her like he couldn’t fathom what he saw and like he couldn’t quite understand. But like he wouldn’t let it go until he did. And just like that, she noticed his hand holding her wrist again. A fitting allegory. And she decided that she didn’t want whatever walls between them still existed to break down. She needed two attempts, but finally spoke. “Can I have my hand back?”

His teasing smirk came back. “It’s yours to begin with.”

She tried to read him. Figuring out what this was. “Is it?” she breathed. “I thought everything of me is yours.”

His grin widened, his eyes darkened. And her pulse sped up under his stare. “You always fought that,” he pointed out.

She took a breath, finally pulling her hand back and out of his grip. “I still do,” she insisted, but her voice wavered.

It was like it brought the distance that felt – safer. The distance there should be. He leaned further back as well, letting her words hang there for a moment. Then he blinked. “I know you do.” He stood up before she could say anything else. But honestly, there was nothing else to say.

Talking to him had always been draining. It was just odd to her how the manner had shifted.

Chapter Text

When the Doctor was allowed to join them the next day and he came aboard the Master’s TARDIS, he immediately came up to inspect her obvious wound. Gentle fingers landed on her temple, near her forehead, and she smiled reassuringly at him. “I’m fine,” she whispered, but she could tell, while glad she wasn’t more torn, he was still getting sick of hearing these words from her mouth. He didn’t show it, not really. But she felt him wanting to scream that nothing of this was fine.

He still smiled back, nodding.

After that, they got into what happened the day before. And why it didn’t work. She tried to wrap her head around the technical details, but essentially – it was just out of her league. “So, you tell me basically I can’t do it?” she clarified after a moment.

Silence followed. The Doctor’s look fell down, unhappy for undoubtedly many reasons.

This was truly really bad news, wasn’t it? They had to find a way.

The Master’s voice broke the heavy silence. “There might be a way.”

The Doctor raised a sceptical brow at him, Rose frowned. “Yeah?” she prompted him.

His hands were stemmed to his sides, his eyes were honestly more on the Doctor than on her. Telling her that he assumed that the Doctor wouldn’t like it. They still settled on her lastly. “You don’t exploit your full potential, for once.”

She blinked, but already heard the Doctor’s deep sigh, saw the shake of his head out of the corners of her eyes, but he didn’t say anything. “What do you mean?” she therefore asked.

The Master shrugged, a small smile playing around his lips. “It means Bad Wolf is much more powerful than what you were using of it thus far.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” the Doctor mumbled under his breath, turning around so he stood with his back to them.

Rose faltered. “So how would I tap into that power?”

His eyes lingered on her, but she couldn’t pinpoint in what way. “There are ways,” he finally answered.

She huffed, partly disillusioned. “Ways you’ve used before,” she stated, dreading whatever he had in mind.

“Yes,” he said flatly. Then shrugged. “And others.”

She didn’t know how to feel. She was afraid and angry. “So you say you want to pull out even more Bad Wolf.”

“I’m open for other suggestion,” he countered with a crooked grin.

“You know,” the Doctor said, still facing away, “if you wouldn’t have dabbled in stuff that powerful, you wouldn’t have to use an entity that is even more powerful and unpredictable than you are.”

“Yeah, but since I did,” the Master shot back, “this argument is senseless.”

Another silence.

And Rose got it, she didn’t know what to say herself. It would come back to her, wouldn’t it? She harboured Bad Wolf. She had to do it. If the Master wouldn’t just force her.

“I have some other ideas,” she didn’t expect the Doctor’s voice. Another beat. “Not ready by any means, but I’m going to look into them.”

When he finally turned around, he found her eyes and she half-heartedly nodded. But she still wanted to know more. “So you think it could work, though?” she didn’t even know who she was asking. “Me handling Bad Wolf?”

“You could,” the Master said casually without even hesitating.

“You always tended to snap decisions,” the Doctor commented.

“Doctor?” she wanted his answer.

He sighed. “Theoretically? Yes. At grave risk.”

She heard the Master’s steps approach and looked at him. “It wouldn’t need much,” he told her. “Not much more than you already do.”

She swallowed. “You know as much as I do that I can’t really trust your words. You’d say that either way.”

“It’s still the truth,” he pointed out.

“Do you really believe I can come out of this undamaged?” she got out unnerved and frustrated, like she could make him being honest, knowing fully well she couldn’t.

“Yes,” she didn’t expect his immediate answer with eyes so clear, it made her flinch.

Words got stuck in her throat.

Was it what she wanted to hear? Suddenly, she wasn’t sure. It wasn’t what she expected. She didn’t expect honesty. She didn’t expect encouragement. To the point where she had trouble reminding herself that he was selfish through and through and had everything but her well-being in mind.

And yet, strangely, she was bound to his eyes, begging him to not play with her like a pawn. But rather mean it. Being meaningful and real.

Maybe he understood. Because his stare broke with the faintest of smiles, only the corners of his lips twitched lightly up. Not without a hidden wink, but still real.

She almost had to smile herself. Like it was a joke and she couldn’t even be mad, because it was so obvious. “Liar,” she huffed.

He rolled his eyes, but his smile grew.

Rose heard the Doctor move. He turned around as he slowly dragged himself to the door. “I need a moment,” he murmured and Rose didn’t understand.

“Doctor?” she worried, but he opened the door and went through it. She moved her feet. “Doctor!”

“Rose,” she heard the Master’s warning, but she cut him off.

“I know I can’t walk far,” she spat and then ran after the Doctor. He was a few steps ahead, walking onto the grass. “Doctor, please wait.”

He slowed down, turning around with a hand over is mouth in an attempt to collect himself. He shook his head, seeming distraught underneath. “It’s nothing, Rose.”

She reached him. “No, it’s something.”

“Yeah,” he helplessly grinned, letting his hands clap on the sides of his legs. “It’s everything. It’s that you’re stuck, it’s that you’re forced to use Bad Wolf and it’s that he forces you to use it and you’re kind of okay with it?”

There was a question in it, laced with incomprehension and disbelieve. And it struck her like an actual slap. “What?” she breathed.

He pulled his head back, shaking it by looking away. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it.”

She felt paralysed. Not understanding what was happening. “Yes, you should,” she eventually got out, traces of anger amidst her confusion and hurt. “There’s obviously something bothering you.”

He took a breath, considering his words. “It’s not bothering me, I’m worried.”

“About what?”

“You, of course. You …” another sigh, “sometimes act like he’s a sarcastic child.”

Rose blinked, then got out a huff as she found this description surprisingly accurate. “Well, to be honest, he is.”

“Yeah, he’s not,” he disagreed gravely and she flinched. “And it’s dangerous to forget that.”

She felt a chilliness spread in her chest, not believing what she was hearing. “You think I forgot who he is?” she asked, her voice cold. “You think I’ve forgotten what he’s done to me?”

The Doctor swallowed. “That’s not what I–”

“Yes, it is.”

He took a step closer. “It’s not,” he empathised. “I don’t think you’ve forgotten. It would be outrageous for me to think that. But I think you latch onto other sides he might have.”

To be honest, Rose didn’t know what to say to this. It wasn’t wrong, was it? But was it even bad? “Yeah,” she acknowledged. “His survival instinct, for once. Because we need that. Because he’s helping because of that.”

He didn’t break eye contact, but he also didn’t counter something. Like he was contemplating his words. Part of her hated it. It was like he was holding back – something not foreign to him. Were there other sides she latched onto? Maybe. Would the Doctor notice this? Probably. Did it matter in the end? Honestly, not really. She was just trying to survive. But she wanted the Doctor by her side for that and his judgement hurt.

His next words weren’t what she had expected. “If I had a way to sever the link,” he suddenly said, guarded and sceptical, “… would you want it?”

She opened her mouth, almost choking. “Yes!” she finally got, finding that question absurd. “Doctor, oh my God, yes,” she tried to empathise, suddenly afraid he suspected otherwise. Feeling frustrated that he might. He stilled, watching her seriously, but she couldn’t see through him.

Could it be?

“Tell me you’ve got something,” she whispered, not sure if he was speaking hypothetically. But that he may not – suddenly made her heart pound.

He slowly started to nod, more like accepting her words than an actual answer. “Would you be willing to risk something like that even if there was no guarantee?”

She didn’t know why, but the possibility made tears spring to her eyes. “Oh my God, yes,” she whispered.

The Doctor took a breath, leaning his head back, watching the sky for a brief moment. “You should go back inside.”

She was so confused. “Doctor?”

“He can see things in your head,” he mumbled, not quite looking her in the eyes. And she sadly had to agree. Realising the less she knew the better. Before she could say something, he added, “I’ll let you know. If. Ever. You’ll know.” She nodded, searching for his eyes that only settled on hers a breath later. “I’ll go in my TARDIS. Just … tell him you have to mull over Bad Wolf.”

She nodded again, suddenly intensely wishing he would hug her. When he reached for her hand to gently squeeze it, it felt so good, she craved it. But she craved so much more. And he wouldn’t give it to her. “See you soon.”

“Yeah,” her breath trembled, hating how he let go of her to walk away.

<>

When Rose went back inside the TARDIS, her cage, she really didn’t want to talk about work. She had so many confusing emotions and wanted to sort them out, so she headed straight to the door.

“What are you doing?” she heard his voice. It had sharpness. She didn’t want to hear it.

“Not in the mood, Master,” she said while walking through the door and into the floor. But she already heard his steps.

“You better get your mood swings under control when a little row with the Doctor gets you so worked up,” his voice was following her.

“Can you just sod off?” she almost pleaded. And immediately felt his hand around her arm, stopping her, and before she knew what was happening, her back thudded against the wall with him in front of her. Her breath hitched.

“What happened?” he demanded, his calmness a bit dangerous with him hovering over her, his hand still enclosed her arm.

“Let go of me,” she whispered.

She felt his grip tighten. “There’s more at stake than your comfort, you know that, right?”

She wanted to huff. “What have I been doing these last months?” she matched his low tone. “I’m just asking for some space.”

“Tell me what he said,” he almost hissed and leaned in.

He was a sodding control freak. But fine. While she didn’t want to talk about the Doctor’s potential plans, there were still other aspects. “He warned me about you.”

She saw his face slightly flinch in surprise, amusement flickered over his features. She suddenly hated how close he was again. How she could see everything, feel his breath and the heat radiating off him. His eyes wandered over her face. “I’d say that ship has already sailed, hasn’t it?” he mused. Then, his head tilted, his eyes softened in that faintly delirious way that made her heart speed up. She couldn’t place his intentions when he did that. “You’ve been thoroughly warned before.”

Oh yes, his deeds had left no doubt about him being dangerous. And while not having forgotten, it still had shifted. And yet. “Yeah,” she drawled. “As if I would trust any of your words.”

“Good,” his breath ghosted against her mouth. “You shouldn’t.”

She lifted her head, not breaking eye contact. Feeling tense, but determined and defiant. “Like how big the chance of Bad Wolf not damaging me actually is,” she almost whispered. “You’d never tell me the truth about that. Or what telepathy is capable of,” she added, purring her words in an attempted mocking manner and he hummed, his grin grew right in front of her eyes, his eyes sparkled. She tilted her head with intention. “Or if you’ll really let me go when we’ve fixed this.”

She didn’t know if she expected him to pause. Not really freeze, but calculating. Cautious what to give away. Which, honestly, was answer enough. “Why wouldn’t I?” he said after a beat.

She couldn’t help but shake her head while watching him. “Because you avoid answering that question. You joked, not-joked about it. Because you just told me not to trust you.” She hesitated, but added, “Because you’re interested in exploiting Bad Wolf.”

The grin forming on his mouth was sly yet searching. His words low and drawling. “Don't give me ideas, pet.”

“Don’t call me that,” she fiercely whispered.

His free hand came up. Touching her chin almost naturally, taking a hold on it and leading it even more his way. “Why not?” he murmured.

A tingle ran through her belly. “Because it’s demeaning.” She wanted to spat the words, feeling anger. But also feeling caught. Not in the way that she couldn’t flee, strangely enough. But caught by him nonetheless.

His amused eyes resting on her were stirring. “Is it?” he challenged, but his presence enveloped her like fog an early morning.

“You’re evasive again,” she pointed out. “Why won’t you tell me if you let me go?” It came a bit more pleading out than she would have liked. “There’s really only one reason I can imagine.”

His head cocked slightly, his eyes still teasing. “Really? Only one?”

Her skin bristled. She had meant Bad Wolf and she didn’t want to know what else there was. Her anger inflamed again, deep within her. Heated emotions twirling in her eyes, she felt them burn. Her hand wandered on her own accord, never breaking eye contact with him. Finding his stomach and driving up to his chest, feeling it underneath the fabric of his shirt. He was visibly surprised, his eyes flickering down for a second even. Scrutinising her afterwards. His eyes dark.

She would have enjoyed that – making him falter – if she wouldn’t be so mad.

She gave him a slow but deliberate shove, pushing him away. His hand slipped from her chin, his other from her arm.

He obviously let her, he could have resisted. Maybe he let it happen, because he had been genuinely confused for a second. Or maybe because he saw her fury and her disillusionment. She broke away from his stare the moment she turned around to get into her room.

She wouldn’t let him enforce Bad Wolf. Not when the Doctor could cut this fucking link.

<>

Rose wouldn’t lie, she felt somewhat lost when she went to the control room the next day.

Or maybe just tired.

To her surprise, the Doctor was already there. The Time Lord’s discussion came towards her the moment she entered the room.

“Your safety nets are the reason you never get anything done,” the Master growled.

“My safety nets are the reason there are a lot less people dying around me,” he gave back.

But the Master chuckled darkly. “Maybe we should ask some Gallifreyans about that, shouldn’t we?”

Rose blinked, not expecting this kind of punch when she was still surprised at seeing them here in the first place. The silence was tense and heavy and drenched with malice from both sides. She wanted it to stop. “What safety net?” she asked on impulse.

It disrupted their tension. The Doctor was the one answering. “An alternative to pulling out more Bad Wolf.”

“It won’t work,” the Master threw in casually with an impatience underneath. Finding her eyes. “We should just stick to Bad Wolf. It’s the fastest way to get this over with.”

She didn’t flinch. “I never said I’ll do it.”

His sigh was silent but visible. Impatience and lack of understanding growing. “You seemed okay with it yesterday,” he reminded her. He meant before the Doctor had left. “Why not now?”

It was true she had seriously considered it for a lack of options. And maybe, therefore, decided to trust him for a moment when he said it would be fine. “Because now, the Doctor obviously has an idea.”

“It’s rubbish,” he spat. “It only draws things out. And I thought you wanted to get rid of me,” he added challengingly.

“I’ll take the Doctor’s way,” she countered undaunted.

He threw his hands in the air, turning around. “Fine. Let’s waste time, why don’t we.”

When Rose looked at the Doctor, he leaned on the table, one hand on his mouth like he was heavily considering something. Asking her with a weighty look. Questioning.

Rose wasn’t sure at first, but the more she was tied to his gaze, the more she was in this pull, the more clear it became. She started to nod. Feebly from the outside. But so damn sure.

He got it.

Rose didn’t know what to expect. She watched the Doctor do something on the console. She saw him using his screwdriver.

It all happened to fast, she could barely process it. A crack behind her made her wince, she saw the Chronon-Anchor emit sparks. The Master’s head had snapped in the direction, eyes wild. Rose felt a tug in her head, like something pulled out a thread intertwined in her brain. She hissed, hands flew to her skull.

“What the hell,” she heard the Master growl. She heard hasty footsteps.

The unpleasant feeling vanished, and part of her just knew it had worked. The Doctor had severed the link. She couldn’t believe it.

She wanted to get up, run to the Doctor. She took one step, before an unthinkable pain shot through her whole body. She crashed on all fours, a groan escaped her.

“NO!” she heard the Doctor shout, with the Master firing back immediately, “Stop right there, Doctor.”

Rose felt energy rush into her limbs and eyes. She knew that feeling. She felt her eyes glow. But it wasn’t powerful or propelling. It was agonising. Like a weight was pressing down on her body while she was pulled to shreds at the same time, cracking her skull open like an egg.

She tried to look up with glassy eyes, tried to understand. The Master had his screwdriver pointed on her, but he looked at the Doctor. He was pulling out Bad Wolf, didn’t he?

Her whimpering body puddled on the floor, everything a haze.

“You’re about to blow her apart!” the Doctor screamed.

“Oh, I know,” she heard his inconceivably cold voice. “Undo what you did.”

“She’ll die,” the Doctor tried again.

“Yes,” he hissed without hesitation. “And I’ll let her.”

She tried to look at him, but honestly, she was only half aware of everything. It made her detached. Curiously noticing that he indeed would let her die.

The Doctor did something. She barely noticed underneath the crippling pain. But she probably was connected to the Chronon-Anchor again.

“Now stop it,” the Doctor spat.

“Not until you’re off my ship,” he threatened. His voice ice. “Get out.”

Like completely distant, Rose heard footsteps walk away. And lastly a door close.

Through the fog of golden light and fractured thought, Rose half-heartedly saw the Master’s boots approaching. Slow, measured steps that echoed too loudly in her head. Her eyes, glazy and flickering with residual glow, tracked his silhouette as he crouched down in front of her.

He studied her face for a long, unnerving moment. She returned the look, but couldn’t do anything else. Seeing him faintly shake his head, she couldn’t process his expression. “What were you thinking?” his words slithered under her skin. She couldn’t have answered if she had wanted to. He reached out, stroking a damp strand out of her sweaty face with a gentleness that masked something hideously dark.

She felt the moment he stopped his pull of Bad Wolf. Her body sagged completely, making her world go black.

Chapter Text

Her senses came slowly back to her, but it was tardy and dragging. A dull echo of an earlier pounding still lingering in her head. A groan escaped her mouth as she tried to turn around. She smelled the infirmary, she knew where she was.

The memories of what happened were like a bad dream and she wished it was. She tried to get up, propping up on both underarms, stopping abruptly as she got sick. It felt like one more movement and she would puke all over.

Her stomach settled after a moment of stillness, staring at the pillow beneath her. But still, her limbs hurt, she felt weak and like she just had the flu for a week.

“It will get better after a day or two.”

She wasn’t surprised to hear his voice. She didn’t know if she expected it to be flat. Measured.

“Lucky me,” she mumbled.

“Nothing to do with luck,” she now heard an edge in his tone. “I stabilised you.”

She huffed under her breath, eyes closing for a second. She pulled herself together to finally sit up, legs sliding over the edge. He sat there just like she expected him to, in a chair, crossed legs, pointed and sharp eyes. “And what, am I supposed to be thankful for that?”

His mouth twitched, his eyes got dark, his hands clutched the armrests. “Damn straight you should be, missy,” he growled, failing to contain his anger. “I should have let you croak on that floor.”

“Well, why didn’t ya?” she snapped.

He sprung up, the chair fell back. “Because that wasn’t the plan!” his shout echoed through the room. “You weren’t supposed to betray me!”

“Betray?” she repeated in disbelieve, yelling back. “How can I betray you when it’s so crystal clear I was never loyal to you?”

“That’s exactly why I need you to stay!”

“Yeah, on a leash.”

“You bet,” he growled with a step forward, whirling his arms. “Because if I didn’t keep you tied, you would run.”

“Aargh, how many times?!” she yelled, her hands on her head for a second. “I’d stay because of the cause! I just don’t want to be forced into things. You twist everything, you megalomaniac bastard! Like I owe you just because you keep me breathing.”

“Oh, you don’t owe me,” he snarled. “I own you.”

“No one owns me,” she shot back and his hand shooting out, snatching a diagnostic tool from the side tray was so sudden as him hurling it across the room with a shout. It broke with a sharp clang on the wall, clattering on the floor.

She had flinched, only now registering he turned his back to her, pacing. Maybe she should be glad he didn’t let it out on her, but she wasn’t done. “You can’t be trusted with anything, you’re not open about your motives, so how should I react?” He turned around while pacing, eyes fixated on her while moving. “I don’t know if you plan on ever letting me go. If you actually wouldn’t or if you just don’t tell me to feel more in control or anything!”

“I’ll let you go.”

“Yeah, in probably sixty years if I even live that long, and all you care about …!”

“Rose, you’re not listening,” he insisted and slid closer, suddenly right in front of her, his hands found the edge of the mattress on either one of her sides. It muted her. She stared at him with parted lips. His voice and face switched to a soft intensity, when he repeated, “I’ll let you go.”

Rose felt lost and enthralled. She was sure she was imagining this for its realness was ironically surreal. But his eyes, his demeanour – it shot something down her spine and into her belly. Had her own voice been firm and loud a second ago, she now felt it tremble. “What about Bad Wolf?”

He missed a beat, but his eyes were clear, his voice steady. “It would kill you. In the long run.”

Her brain had trouble catching up. She felt herself quiver, like her body didn’t understand her own emotional roller coaster ride. She just knew emotions were unfolding and overrunning her. Were his words an actual explanation? “And you care?” The question was honest. With honest confusion.

His blink was soft, intentional, yet not giving anything away. With amusement even if it was feeble.

He wouldn’t answer. Maybe he shouldn’t.

She felt so vulnerable, her voice so timid. Tears suddenly pressing against her eyes. “You promise?” She pleaded him, she wanted nothing more than him saying the truth. Him being real.

He straightened up slightly, his hands raising from the mattress, hesitating when they hovered over her cheeks, his face mere inches away. Until he cradled her, cool palms against flushed skin, his thumbs resting just beneath her eyes.

Rose couldn’t help it, her mouth opened, her eyes fell shut. She shuddered at the touch, sending sensations through her body that was already overload. She felt like a tumbled mess. And part of it was that his touch felt so good. The thing was, he had started touching her cheek like that when he attempted to emotionally connect with her. A sign. It was unspoken, but never so clear to her like it was right now.

When her eyes slid open, heavy and bedazzled, he didn’t shun her. He wanted this to be a sign. His smile was so small, she barely saw it. “I promise,” he whispered like sealing an oath.

<>

Rose was sitting on the infirmary’s ground at some point, knees up, stretched-out arms leaning on them, hands folded. Her head hung down between her shoulders, almost dangling there. Eyes closed. Knowing a bucket was right beside her. “I feel like throwing up again,” she mumbled. It was a few hours later and yes, she had thrown up a few times by now.

His steps went over the floor. “Don’t stop on my account.”

She huffed, daring to look up. “And you tell me it wouldn’t be like that when we go the Bad-Wolf-route in fixing this last rift?”

He came over to her, crouching down in front of her, hands almost casually finding her shins. “I told you it wouldn’t and I mean it. This last experience was,” he searched for words, pushing down a grin and failing, “let’s call it too much of a good thing.”

“Uh-huh,” she made annoyed. “You fucking poisoned me.”

“You fucking wanted to outplay me,” he winked, still a seriousness under their banter. “Better think twice about it next time.”

Her head thudded back against the wall as a new wave of sickness washed over her. She felt his hands squeezing her legs softly, thumbs moving a little, and it was so strange in its normality. “So, are we doing this?” he asked after a moment.

“I still want the Doctor’s opinion, you give him all your data.” When she searched his face again, it was peevish, but so be it. “But apart from that – yeah, I’ll do it.”

The grin forming on his face was crooked. “I will need you to convince the Doctor too, you know?”

She sighed. “I’m aware of that.”

“And I want your word.”

She blinked, taken aback by his sudden intensity. “For what?”

“No funny business. And by that, I mean you and by extension the Doctor. If he tries anything – bet’s off the table.”

She got it. The balance of these feeble truces was delicate. They all needed each other in one way or the other, compromises were necessary. But it didn’t mean it would all go smoothly.

<>

Rose had insisted to call the Doctor, even if he wouldn’t come aboard for two days since she had to recover first. Her and the Master argued at first, him saying a call would be too generous for what they tried and with her pointing out that they sat in the same boat and they had to be on passable terms with each other. That he wanted her to convince the Doctor and this would be the first step.

He reluctantly gave her a phone. When she heard his voice, it was tense and fearful. “What have you done to her?” he immediately asked.

“Doctor, it’s me,” she murmured.

A pause on the line. “Rose? Are you okay?”

“I will be. I wanted you to know that.”

His sigh shuddered a bit, she heard it even through the phone. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” she said, seeing the Master’s brow arch out of the corners of her eyes. “Listen, Doctor, the Master and I … talked. He’s still willing to work with us when it means we can fix this. He’ll send you data. We can meet up soon.”

He was clearly processing and probably wary. “When?”

“Tomorrow, maybe. Right now, I can’t work anyway.”

Another pause. “What would you be working?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“I’m considering Bad Wolf, yes,” she sighed. “That’s why I need you to have all the information about it.”

He hesitated, his sigh constraint. “Are you sure?” he asked softly, but she couldn’t answer, because the Master snatched the phone out of her hand.

“Yes, she’s sure,” he answered for her. “I’ll send you what you need to know. Do your homework and wait for my call.” He hung up before the Doctor could say something. “You were taking forever,” he said annoyed.

“Do you ever wonder why people don’t like you?” she asked, but there was no force behind it.

“Nope.” He turned on his heels, about to leave the room. “Now rest.”

<>

The Doctor came aboard two days later. Rose was fortunately feeling better even if she’d still need time. But seeing him was a sight for sore eyes.

He was careful when he entered, slowly and measured.

“How nice to have you back,” the Master said sharply. “Needless to say, if you try one more stunt I won’t play nice again. Oh, and of course I also blocked the frequency you used last time.”

“Yeah, I figured it was a one shot,” the Doctor sighed, but then walked towards her. Scanning her. Making sure. He didn’t stop walking and she simply stepped forward as well until they found each other in a comforting hug. Her head leaned on his chest when one arm enveloped her back and his other hand found the back of her head. Unprepared, emotions swelled up in her chest and she had to close her eyes to prevent herself from getting teary. It just felt so protective and safe. And she wanted to curl up there.

But she couldn’t. Not yet.

So when they untangled, she took a deep breath to collect herself. Succeeding.

“How sweet,” the Master commented bored. “Did you have a look at what I sent?”

The Doctor nodded.

“And?” Rose asked.

“I still think it’s risky.”

“But?” the Master prompted impatiently.

“But,” he sighed, scratching his forehead, “it could actually work.” The Master’s smirk showed triumph and arrogance, not expecting the Doctor to add, “After we ran a few simulations.”

His groan was deep, he rolled his eyes.

The Doctor threw a data carrier seemingly out of nowhere his way and the Master caught it just. “I worked on that. Feel free to have a look. It should more efficient. More precise. Faster.”

The Master watched him, still annoyed, mostly because he would have to consider it, since they all wanted things from each other. “Fine,” he hissed after a while, putting the data carrier into the TARDIS console.

<>

They worked it out. They enhanced the simulator and while Rose wasn’t quite ready yet to actually take on a rift, they could run the simulations to make projections of Bad Wolf.

She was thankful for the Doctor insisting on it. Turned out, there was a lot of fine tuning to be done to make it safer. The chance of failing dropped from forty percent to twenty which sounded a whole lot better to her.

“And you didn’t want to do it,” she scolded the Master at some point.

“That was before the Doctor enhanced it,” he justified and added mumbling, “Did something useful for once.”

She rolled her eyes, but continued.

After a few days, she was in the infirmary again. Nervous. Because it was clear that she had recovered from this last Bad Wolf overdose and now – it would continue.

The Master rustled something on the counter. She observed him, unsure and questioning. He had told her he had worked on it. To make it hurt less. He also had explained it more to her. That, yes, that ‘torture device’ had been to enforce this connection to the Chronon-Anchor, but it was also intertwined with wiggling out Bad Wolf. And wiggling out just a bit more – would mean to use it again.

When he turned around now, their eyes met. And he paused, taking a silent breath. Then, slow steps forwards. She sat on the infirmary bed, feeling tension rise in her limbs. He came to her, dropping off the device in question next to her on the bed, while standing in front of her.

Her eyes had followed the device, resting on it for a moment.

Full circle.

She huffed, closing her eyes and shaking her head. She didn’t know why she had to smile, this was all absurd. When she looked at him, he greeted her with a crooked grin. She sighed. “Been a while.” He hinted a shrug, nodding. “Are you sure there is no other way?”

“It won’t hurt like before,” he said calmly.

“But it won’t be pleasant.”

He shook his head softly. “No.”

“Two times at most, yeah?”

He nodded again.

She took a deep breath, her shoulder sagged. “Alright. Do it.”

His hand raised and he gently pulled her hair back. Her eyes briefly fell shut, she didn’t know why it felt like a bit much.

She remembered. And it was so strange how his gestures felt exactly the same and yet completely different. Everything about this felt the same yet different. It was a weird state to be in, like it wasn’t real.

He raised the device, never leaving her out of sight. Like he was asking something or reassuring. She didn’t expect his other hand finding her cheek, tentative and careful. Enforcing this strange spell that regularly spread between them lately, when their eyes were attached to each other like it meant something. His words were soft, almost a whisper. “It will work, I promise.”

She swallowed, but nodded, closing her eyes as she felt the cool surface of the device on her neck.

She heard her own shout, that wasn’t new. The pain was paralysing her, but mainly her left arm, on the side of the device. It was vigorous but quick. She still lost her body tension, for once happy he was there to catch her from falling plainly back. His arms were around her back, pulling her too him, a hand supporting her head. She still sat, thanks to him, he stood in front of her.

It was really faster. The pain not echoing like it was still there, everything felt like it was falling back into place. She actually had noticed the rush of gold lighting up her eyes for a moment. A small part of her even proud she noticed.

He held her close, waiting until she was fully back.

“I’m okay,” she whispered.

He searched her face, then nodded. “Then let’s check if it worked.”

<>

It worked. It needed a few days to show the full effect. It also turned out she had to do it a second time. Which was okay.

Rose was sitting on the ground in her room, back against the end of the bed, fiddling with her ring.

She felt fine. Her ring still worked and the simulations ran more or less okay. Her vitals were also okay. They’d probably do it tomorrow, when her data was still stable. Which both Time Lords assumed.

These last days were gone by astonishingly smooth. Everybody behaved. When she went through it in her head, her thoughts circled back to the Master’s behaviour in particular. Since using this Bad Wolf device again, she tried to wrap her head around these whole last months. Which, she was aware, would continue for a while, even after this would be over. It wasn’t something that would fail to leave a mark on her. She was just trying to figure out in what way.

Her relationship to him was so weird. And while not really trusting him, it wasn’t like she didn’t feel anything when they were together. And it had taken her a damn long time to admit it to herself. She still didn’t know what she felt. And she questioned whether it mattered. Only that she deserved it to feel anything different than fear or hate or anger. No matter its meaning.

Especially when she was afraid of tomorrow and the chance of her dying wasn’t zero. Maybe thinking about him was a distraction. Because it working tomorrow – it depended on her. It wasn’t the kind of pressure she was comfortable with.

She heard a knock and the door opened shortly after. She looked at him standing there tilting his head. “Just wanted to check in.”

“I’m fine,” she said. “No sickness, no feeling of faintness.”

“Good. And apart from that?”

She missed a beat. Didn’t she try to find out herself? “I dunno,” she huffed a bit helplessly.

After a moment, he moved. Coming closer and actually sat down next to her on the ground, also leaning against the bed. Interestingly enough, staring ahead, musing over his words. “If it holds any meaning,” he then started. “I believe you’ve got this.”

She let that sink in, observing him. He eventually turned his head, arching a brow. She faintly smiled. “Actually, it does. You don’t coddle and you don’t give compliments.” She shrugged. “So it means something.”

He smirked at her. “Damn right,” he murmured. “Also, I’m there. And I’m bloody brilliant.”

She openly chuckled, she couldn’t stop it. Still rolling her eyes. “Let’s say in some departments you are.”

“Only because you haven’t seen all,” he winked.

A hand drove over her face. “Your emotional intelligence leaves much to be desired.”

His lips twitched, still a grin. “Oh, you know that isn’t true.”

She shook her head, still smiling. “Whatever.”

His look lingered for a moment, but then he broke it and clapped his legs. “Get some rest. We see each other tomorrow.”

And with that he got up, his lazy steps carried him over to the door. And she didn’t know what brought her to speak up again, but the thought of that she deserved the best, she deserved to feel something good for once accompanied her. “Not sure if I’m able to sleep.” She didn’t look up at first, but heard how his steps had stopped. After a beat, she turned her head, straight-up facing him. “You think you could help me sleep?”

She could practically see the wheels in his head, no matter how guarded he looked. Something flickered over his face eventually. Something unspoken yet clear. His eyes softened, his voice was maybe teasing, but honestly, probably more curious. “You want me to help you sleep, Rose?” The question sounded faintly challenging but also rhetorical.

She didn’t back down. “If you want to.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched, fragile and charged, like holding your breath. Like he understood perfectly – that it wasn’t just sleep. Like he contemplated if this would be a line he crossed.

For once, she wanted him to cross it.

Then he stepped back towards her, slow and deliberate. Like it was answer enough. Despite maybe still questioning it. Question whether she was really asking.

She slowly got up to sit on the bed, one leg bent on the bed, the other one dangling down on the edge. Suddenly feeling her heart beat louder and faster as he stopped right in front of her, still standing. Still deciding?

She was unabashed when she looked up into his eyes. With an inner certainty. One she could tell he was surprised to see. And maybe still not sure how to react. Not fully. But curious all the same.

He moved, sitting down on the bed with her. The mattress dipped under his weight, he crossed his legs right in front of her. All the while observing her. Maybe letting her time to protest. Because he didn’t explicitly ask if she was sure. Yet every of his careful gestures did.

Something tingled in her belly when she watched him watching her. His eyes searching and piercing, always dissecting her. Why did this suddenly feel so delicious? So dangerously intriguing? Him being close always meant something. Maybe for the first time something she anticipated.

Then, his hands raised slowly and when they grazed on her temples, it felt so tentative. As, finally, did his mind when it grazed hers.

Her breath hitched slightly despite her planning to not let that happen just yet. But this soft mental gestures came unexpected. She quickly relaxed into it. Absolutely sure that, right now, she was safe. Funnily enough, she saw him work his jaw for a second. Not sure what it meant. But the next moment, she felt him continue. Wrapping around her interior, her thoughts and feelings. She let it all out for him to find, not caring about what he saw. She just wanted the full experience, the way she suspected this was supposed to work. The way it had clearly promised in all those moments she tried to ignore before.

He went through her sensations deliberately and she came to recognise how he savoured that. And part of her was thrilled. That he felt something as well. It was freeing to just enjoy it without worrying all of the time, without second-guessing it.

It felt good.

Nothing more, nothing less. It was just right.

She anticipated it, but when he finally pushed her parts aside and slowly get himself in – a moan escaped her. A quick bite on her lower lip followed and goosebumps deliciously spread down her spine. A smile curled up her lips as she watched him, another thrill chasing her. This felt forbidden and she loved it. And it felt good to not hold back for once.

He on the other hand, seemed surprised by her obvious enjoyment. He swallowed before his soft voice broke the quiet. “Close your eyes.”

It wasn’t the first time he had said it in this context. And she had always been happy to shut him out.

Until now.

“What if I wanna watch you?” she said innocently seductive without even intending. It just came out that way.

He did not expect that, she could tell how his controlled face twitched, how he harrumphed instead of answering clearly.

She blinked amused. “You’re flustered,” she realised.

“No,” he empathised a little lost, fake glossing over it with intention to mock himself.

Her grin grew, so satisfied to see him that way. “What about me makes you flustered?” she challenged sweetly.

He tilted his head briefly, half annoyed, but in a fond way. “Just not quite expecting … that.”

Her smile way lazy, her voice low. “And what’s ‘that’?”

He took a deeper breath, briefly opening his mouth like breathing was just a bit harder. It wasn’t obvious, but his was there. “I’m not sure you know yourself. And I’m not sure you want to know.”

He was right. Difference was – right now, she didn’t care. “I want you to continue,” she said quietly.

There was something in his face that she barely saw there. At least in that way.

Hesitation.

“Please,” she added.

His exhale hid a held back shudder, his eyes briefly looked away as if to collect himself or consider something. This was a rarity too. Him holding eye contact was a characteristic trait of him. Even through awkward or tense situations. And while his eyes found hers again, it was still telling. “If I start,” he said lowly and controlled, “I might not stop.”

She didn’t think about the heat his words provoked, she just enjoyed it flushing her. “I don’t want you to stop right now.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he slowly shook his head.

“Show me,” she prompted. And he stilled, she felt so many thoughts in his head even though she couldn’t hear them. But she got the gist that he didn’t want to overstep. Something he obviously had trouble with. Maybe she had to make it more clear what she wanted out of this.

It wasn’t real.

It was like the simulation they were running. Close enough. But not real.

“Don’t make it a thing,” she murmured. “Just … make it. Help me sleep once more. It isn’t like you’ve never done it before.”

She saw it, the hidden smile on his lips. Like it had actually helped him to understand.

Like she thought before – it wasn’t just helping her sleep. They both knew it. But yet it would be. Officially.

She felt the moment he started to move again in her head, making her gasp. His eyes got dark and she hummed. Feeling him bleed into her head with intention and confidence. Taking space. So she could feel him closely. And he could feel her as well. Intimately. He spiked something in her. Sensations that fluttered through her gut, her heart and her brain. Touching her deep within. She remembered a thought of having the most real contact she’s ever had and it came back to her.

This felt profound. Raw. Unwonted.

And he leaned into that, settling into unused space to touch it, stroke it, own it. She moaned again as she felt his quiver for even just a second. When he was allowed to explore that. Explore her. Exciting for both of them. With him making every touch just a bit deeper than the one before.

Her words were absent, lost in the rush of sensations that were far too sensual. “When you’re so good at this, why would you ever use it for pain?”

The Master went utterly still, like this instant between them froze. His mind didn’t recoil, didn’t snap away, but something inside him twisted.

She felt it.

The realisation slamming into him like an arrow into his chest.

Rose had no idea what she’d just done, her focus already blurred.

She didn’t know. She couldn’t know how deep the realisation hit him. He felt like watching this from afar while observing her close face between his hands, her hazel eyes slowly opening, questioning. He felt so sobered this moment and the clarity felt cathartic and yet gutting. In a way he hadn’t expected.

He had ruined this.

Whatever this could have been, whatever twisted, electric potential had existed between them over the course of this whole freak show, he had crushed it under his own boot. He’d made sure from the beginning she feared him, hated him, fought him, not even considering that this might be something of worth to him.

And now it could never be anything else than – this.

No matter that she was here now, willingly wrapped in his presence, letting him do this to her – to them. Letting herself feel something different for once, but still carrying the memory of what he had been, what he had done.

He had been so obsessed with controlling her, bending her, had spent so long forcing, twisting, breaking. And here she was, taking what she could from him, no illusions about what he was, no delusions that this meant anything more than what it was. She wasn’t asking for more. She wasn’t asking for anything. Just this – this stolen moment, this temporary truce wrapped in something that should have never felt as good as it did. Maybe that was the worst part. Maybe that was why this felt so intoxicating.

But maybe that was okay. Maybe he could just give this without twisting it even more than it was. And maybe – driving in too deep was something they both could painfully enjoy just this once.

Rose shifted slightly as she recognised a certain weight from his look on her. Something settled in him, and it lay itself like a blanket over all the things he didn’t want her to see. The change in him was subtle, but she could feel it – through their connection, through the tension in his body, in the way his gaze had gone distant.

She swallowed, her voice quiet, uncertain. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t withdraw either. His eyes flickered over her, something unreadable behind them, before he let out a deep, slow breath.

Instead of answering, she felt his focus shift back into place. On her. And he moved, letting himself back into this connecting. Rose felt it immediately, the way he settled back into her mind, no longer distant, no longer retreating. On the contrary. Whatever he had pondered about – he seemed to be over it.

He pushed forward, deliberate and determined, sinking into the very fabric of her being.

“Oh,” flew faintly out of her mouth, her eyes fell shut again and she felt like she was carried away into other spheres. He reached into her very core, he hadn’t been that deep for a very long time. Bad memories fluttered on the edge of her consciousness, but he seemed to have anticipated that, keeping them distant by showing her what else he could do there. What else she could feel with him being there.

Her body and mind were humming with the experience, her breath came heavy and she believed she heard herself whimper.

She also believed she could feel his skin on hers. His hands on her cheeks, her hair, her neck. His physical touch matching his sensual mental one. His face nestled on hers. His nose nudging her, his breath on her mouth. Part of her wanted to lean in. Feel his lips on hers. She knew them to be soft. She knew he would let her. Maybe that was why he shifted and she felt his lips on her cheek, just lingering.

She suddenly could fathom how much he enjoyed this too. How close he felt, how he still didn’t feel deep enough, hungry for more. And still so aware of what he was capable of and what of it she needed right now. Giving instead of taking. She was never so grateful for him being controlled the way he was. Because she was mildly cognisant he had fantasies reaching even further than this. Even though she couldn’t imagine how he could sink even deeper mentally, how this would feel.

Instead, he let them both revel in this warmth, this quiet understanding. Touching her with the ominous promise of more while giving them exactly what was right.

He was consuming. And she could get lost in it. If he pushed this further – she would give in. And part of her was glad he didn’t.

It still felt sultry. She felt them both quiver, again and again, not sure if it was mentally or physically. But she also felt his skin on her hands. She didn’t know which part of his body and didn’t care. She trusted him to keep the balance which was wild in itself. But she just wanted to let herself fall. Not think. Just feel.

She felt his control fraying at the edges a few times. She didn’t judge how it made it flutter low in her belly, she just let herself feel it. Knowing he wouldn’t snap.

Why she knew? No idea.

Also something she didn’t question. Maybe because right now, she wouldn’t care if he did.

She sighed softly, her body growing heavier, her breathing slowing, her grip on awareness – not really present in the first place – slipping. She felt getting drowsy, but easier, smoother than before, like she was being guided into sleep rather than dragged under by it.

She felt him letting her go, and honestly, that was exactly what she wanted. Not caring if it was impolite. If she used him to feel good.

Well, she was using him. More importantly, she felt fine with using him.

Like she said – she deserved it.

So when he finally let go, she turned around without looking back – not sure if she even could have – to find her pillows and just enjoy the bliss.

He could find his way out.

Chapter Text

Rose took her time waking up, stretching her limbs lazily and enjoying the quiet moment.

She had no regrets. And it felt so liberating.

Seriously, everything that helped her to carry on was allowed. That was her mind set. And it put her at ease.

After a while she made herself ready and strolled to the control room. Finding him there as expected. She couldn’t help but notice a faint tingle when she saw him after last night, but she didn’t attach importance to it. What for?

The Master stood at the console, one hand braced against it, the other idly tapping against a switch. Observing the screen almost in thought.

Rose leaned against the doorway, hands in her pockets. “Something the matter?”

His fingers stilled, and after a beat, he glanced at her. His gaze flickered over her, taking her in – the way she stood, the loose ease of her posture. “No,” he eventually said.

She frowned slightly at his held back composure. “You look tired.”

Now a feeble smirk broke free on his lips. “You, on the other hand, seem remarkably well-rested.”

She smirked, stepping further into the room. “Guess I had some help.”

His jaw twitched, just slightly. “Guess so.”

They wouldn’t talk about it. They never really did. And this was fine by her, she didn’t even want to, and honestly, neither did he.

“Scan me?” she asked. “So we can contact the Doctor?”

<>

She was ready.

In theory.

She had stared into nothingness, only noticing as the Doctor stepped in front of her. “You okay?” he murmured.

She blinked. “Yeah. Just … you know. Another day in the office.”

Her smirked fondly at her and she mirrored it. And she found him pulling her into a hug surprisingly strengthening. Her lids closed, enjoying his warmth. “It’s very similar to the simulations. And you got those.”

She nodded, squeezing him a bit tighter. “I know.”

They lingered, until the Doctor pulled back, searching her face, making sure she was okay under the circumstances. Then, after a moment, he turned around to the Master. “A word with you?” he asked, nodding to the door and already walking. The Master frowned, partly annoyed. But apparently decided to follow him.

To be honest, Rose didn’t even want to know, she needed to regulate herself down. Everything that was of importance to her – she got it from both of them, one way or the other.

<>

The Doctor stepped out and into the grass, hands in the pockets of his coat, taking a breath before he turned around, facing his counterpart.

“What?” the Master asked annoyed.

“Tell me.”

“What?” he shrugged.

“That if this works – it’s over.”

The Master chuckled and rolled his eyes while looking away.

“This is not a joke.”

“I already told you it will be over,” the Master countered, unexpectedly undramatic. Calm. Then a small provocative smirk emerged. “You’ll have her all to yourself again.”

The Doctor summoned his calmness as well. “Good.”

One thing was that the Doctor wouldn’t just let him take her away this time. The Master was sure he had taken some precautions and it was possible he couldn’t foresee them all. The second factor was of course Rose herself. They had a deal. And honestly, right now, he didn’t see himself breaking it. Not that it was entirely impossible. “That all?” he snapped after a pause.

The Doctor nodded. “Yeah.” He turned around without another word, walking to his TARDIS. Doing his thing. He had probably primarily asked to seize his reaction. To analyse his honesty in that matter. Apparently okay with it for the moment.

The Master got back inside his ship as well. After he closed the door, he found her sitting on the step on the floor leading to the console. In thought. Mouth leaning on folded hands, eyes absent.

She was tense.

His feet carried him over and she took a deep breath as he crouched in front of her, blinking and finally looking at him. “Yeah?” she asked awkwardly and he had to suppress a grin.

“You ready?”

“Don’t even know what that means.”

Now he let his smile show. And he felt his impulse to reach out to her, maybe support her.

He wanted to touch her.

And he hesitated, but slowly raised his hand to do it. His fingertips reached out to her cheek, finding her soft skin. Again and again not sure how she’d react, maybe that was part of the allure. And while not completely unexpected, her calm, unapologetic stare back at him with the slight tilt of her head into his hand, did something to him.

He found himself drawn to her reactions, not really understanding the reasons. To the way she enjoyed his touch, leaned into it. To the fact that she shouldn’t but didn’t give a crap. Because she simply wanted it.

He didn’t let his thoughts wander further. It probably wasn’t a good idea. He let his thumb wander over her cheekbone, savouring how her lids fluttered. Then, lowly, he prompted, “Let’s do this.”

<>

When he stood up and his hand left her skin, it left her strangely encouraged. She took a deep breath and stood up. Straight-up walking to the Chronon-Anchor. Determinedly activating her ring, feeling it flush her – differently.

She felt the consequences of what they did with Bad Wolf. It was powerful. Overwhelming. It felt like having more power than you should have, not sure if you’re doing things right, but since it worked up until now, you just continue, enjoying the rush. What could happen?

In that state of mind – she felt a bit almighty. With a calmness that shouldn’t be there.

She spread her fingers, putting her palm on the panel of the Chronon-Anchor. She lifted the shield. And saw the rift like once before in reality and also the simulations. Shimmering blue again.

Only this time, when she sew it together, it wasn’t like the first time.

She felt in control. She felt it working.

She felt powerful.

Holding the reins.

She felt herself grin and the feeling of it spread through her body, her whole being. Seeing the rift close bit by bit, exactly how she wanted it to. It made her light-headed.

Goddammit, it felt good.

She didn’t expect it, but the Master had apparently came up to her to already slide into her mind, making her gasp in surprise, but her eyes were still closed.

“I know it feels good,” he immediately said, his voice again not only in front of her but also mumbling in her headspace, “but don’t get careless.”

“I’m not,” she disagreed, but she already felt his scepticism and to be honest, she didn’t believe herself. “I’m trying not to,” she therefore corrected.

She felt his fingers on her temples move, touching her cheeks, drawing her closer. Her lids flew open. It was always hard to focus on the outer world when she was in that deep, but she couldn’t help but being partly pulled out. Maybe he wanted that.

“I know how tempting it is,” he empathised, his words tumbling out like a confession and it sent a shiver through her body. Because she felt him. “How bloody tempting,” he whispered and it made her head spin. She didn’t know exactly what he found tempting. Power in general? Bad Wolf? Her power? Her? She couldn’t sort it out before he added, “But you can’t give in. You have to stay focused.”

She didn’t know what would happen if she gave in. Hadn’t even been aware she was on the brink of giving in. But it probably was a slippery slope and, honestly, he had more experience with giving in to power and the consequences.

So she trusted him.

She closed her eyes to focus on the half-closed rift again, picking up where she left off.

It still felt good. But she tried not to focus on that feeling. Not on the potential. Not on what she could do or reach with this power. Not what purpose it could serve. Not how safe she would feel with it or what she could change with it. For the better.

Oh, wow, not following these trains of thought was really hard.

She had to shift back to the rift a few times, balancing to not get lost in the feeling of closing it and to not get distracted by the rush it offered. When she succeeded, she admired her work, recognising its meaning in a new way.

She felt him leading her towards him. Like taking her hand and gently pulling her closer.

Right. She needed to separate him from the Time Matrix. Already feeling a Wraith in the background, closing in.

She reached through his walls, faltering for a moment.

He felt different.

Or, well, she felt him differently, obviously. With Bad Wolf boosted.

She still recognised him, it was still him. But it was like understanding his complexity a bit better. Like many gears and nets intertwined in a sophisticated machine. Many edges. Which was fitting, he was edgy. But part of her wanted to touch it in a new way to understand it even better. Like a puzzle worth solving.

“You let yourself distract again,” his voice slithered into her essence. “I like being admired, but you have another job.”

She felt embarrassment flush her for a second, before toning it down. Don’t tease me, crossed her mind before she could prevent it, ignoring his damped amusement. She finally stepped through his first wall that she had always perceived as a hurricane.

She understood it better now. It had probably been too much input for her before, making her overload. Because this was part of his mind, working. Feelings and thoughts, calculating but also controlling. For example, his wild and intense emotions.

She got the sense that he was always active. Both because he wanted to and because he had to. Because he would go mad otherwise.

“Would you stop staring at me and just do your job?” he almost snapped. “A Wraith is already closing in.”

“You’re fascinating,” she said without thinking. Part of her wanted to take it back, the other part didn’t care.

Again, him tilting her head in his hands made her open her lids again. He was close. His eyes intense. Like always. But different. They bore into her, like he wanted to consume her. His breath on her face. “Come closer, then,” he challenged her, voice low.

She felt a shiver run from her head all the way down to her feet. Part of him meant it just as seductively as her first impression. But part of him meant it differently. “I have to get closer for this original connection within you, don’t I?”

“Yes.” Then, he shrugged. “A little bit.”

After a beat, she closed her eyes again. Stepping closer into his mind. Through the wall. Into his interior for once.

She had already been here of course, several times. She just felt it differently.

Like a feeble whiff of how she imagined it felt for him when he wound around her thoughts, feelings and impulses. And while she couldn’t recognise them all, she felt that they were there. The impulse to push her, nudge her maybe. To be faster. She reached out to it and felt him respond. Humming. Yet mixed emotions. Not all of them clear. She tried to touch them as well and she felt him respond to that too. It had meaning, and she was sure she could decipher him if she just tried a little longer. But his lips brushing against her ear when he talked distracted her again. “Rose,” he rumbled with a warning, so low it made it flutter in her belly.

She stepped further into his mind, a little disappointed she couldn’t wound herself around his thoughts, even though she felt them passing by.

She needed to focus. Seeing his connection to the Time Matrix. Deep within him. But so wrong.

She felt confident. “I hope you learned your lesson,” she teased drily and felt his huff the moment something hit them.

Rose reacted on instinct. The Wraith had jumped to them, sudden and fast. And Rose had spread a shield around them without even thinking. Without understanding.

She felt it all, how the tent between the TARDISes still stretched. How the Doctor must have reacted in time for this. But also her role in it.

She felt the gold buzz around her and the Master, spreading and shielding. She felt his awe. Him being taken aback.

Another grin spread on her lips. She liked being admired, too.

She knew she still had to hurry. So she did. Attending this last rift, her salvation. Unknotting him from the Time Matrix he had no business messing with anyway. Each movement precise and skilful.

I want to keep this, flew through her mind.

And she didn’t know why she heard him, maybe because he let her, maybe she could only in this state – but his answer was clear. Not without regret.

You can’t.

And like the universe wanted to show her why, immediately after she had separated him, it all broke down. Her golden shield and the Wraith hitting her like revenge, even though she knew it wasn’t like that.

She screamed, the pain she felt radiated through her nerve system. It was like burning up. Exactly like it did the first time Bad Wolf had taken over in the very beginning. Unlocking these memories in the same move.

She clutched her head, growling against clenched teeth. She squinted her eyes open, realising she was on the TARDIS floor and the Master laying on the ground as well.

She was partly relieved when he moved. “Bloody hell,” he groaned, his movements sluggish. “Way to end this, girl.”

She still hurt. Maybe it slowly ebbed away, but it still hurt. He had managed to sit up, but also holding his head, face distorted. Then, accompanied by another groan, he moved, crawling over to her. “Rose,” he panted.

Tears had wet her face, her hands still on her head as she lay there on her side. “It hurts,” she whimpered.

“I know,” he whispered and it was the first time she saw regret on his face. Or at least empathy. His hands reached for her face. “Lemme see.”

“No,” she whimpered more because she just didn’t want to move.

“Rose,” he sighed, prompting, shifting closer.

“I can’t,” she whispered.

“Rose,” he came closer, laying beside her on the ground. “Trust me.” His breath ghosted over her face, his forehead suddenly on hers, his whispery voice almost begging. “Please trust me. I have to take a look.”

Her breath was heavy, she still felt awful, there was still pain and just a major whirlwind of things unknown. Also him infiltrating her senses. She smelled him, funnily enough. His scent was so familiar by now. Which made her realise how much time she had spent in his proximity.

What’s a little more?

“Okay,” she finally whispered.

Him slipping inside was almost … soothing. She inhaled deeply, feeling him sink in so carefully, it made her ache. She didn’t know for what. But her pain slowly slipped away, and relief took its place. A sigh escaped her mouth and she searched for his face. He backed off a little, so he could watch her. His eyes skimmed her face, like checking every part of it. “It’s okay,” he whispered, sounding reassuring.

“Is this one of the unlikely side effects of Bad Wolf?” she quipped, voice still breathless.

He grinned. “You seem fine to me.”

She huffed, but didn’t say anything. Just watching him. Feeling his closeness and his hands on her face. Gently moving. Stroking. And she got caught up in his stare again, like the spell was spreading anew as they lay there. But she also saw a tiredness behind his eyes. Whatever happened at the end – it also had affected him, hadn’t it?

“Are you fine?” she suddenly asked.

His smirk wasn’t as big, but still teasing. “Are you worried about me?”

Words got stuck in her throat, she wanted to roll her eyes. But she seriously didn’t know how to answer. She shouldn’t worry. He was fucking nuts and dangerous. But she had asked anyway, hadn’t she? Without second-guessing it.

She didn’t have time to answer. The TARDIS door was rattled, followed by some heavy knocking. The Master groaned and rolled away from her when she heard the Doctor. “Open the sodding door.”

He stood up, but it was apparently still tedious for him. “She’s fine, for God’s sake,” he mumbled, half-staggering to the door to open it, one hand still on the frame like blocking the way.

“Let me in,” the Doctor commanded with a calm sharpness and annoyance underneath.

“I still need to reverse what I’ve done with Bad Wolf, she can’t come with you just yet.”

“I swear to God, if you don’t get out of the way right now …”

“Watch the threats,” the Master hissed back.

Rose didn’t really see the Doctor, but imagined him glaring at the other Time Lord. She honestly just tried to sit up without getting sick again. She wouldn’t lie, she felt like being chewed up and spit out. Only now feeling how much. She lay her head into her palms.

She hadn’t twigged if they had said anything else. But she heard his steps and saw his Chucks out of the corners of her eyes. He crouched down in front of her, his hands finding her knees. She lifted her head, smiling at him, however tired. He tried to mirror it, failing. “You look like hell.”

She chuckled. “Something every woman wants to hear.”

A grin now tugged at his lips. It vanished as the Master’s steps came closer behind him. “Tell me the truth,” he ordered, not turning around.

“I know how to pack in Bad Wolf again,” the Master answered. “You saw her. Now get off my ship so I can do my work.”

Rose felt the Doctor’s grip on her legs tighten as the space around his eyes. “Need I mention that I've taken precautions to ensure you don't simply disappear?”

A beat. “No, I assumed you would.”

She saw the Doctor’s faint nod, his eyes had never left hers. Now searching. Asking. Assuring.

She nodded at him. Thankful. Hopeful.

They did it.

This was so surreal. Probably because her senses were hazy.

He squeezed her gently before standing up. His steps were hesitant, but slowly moving towards and then through the door.

When the Master got closer, she shook her head. “Not sure I can stand up,” she said weakly. “Tell me that’s to be expected.”

He didn’t even pause when he bent down and slipped his arms under her knees and around her shoulders to lift her up. And interestingly enough, she just let herself sag into his arms and on his chest. Letting him carry her.

Her nose nudged into his shirt, her eyes fell close. “Can you even … ‘shut off’ Bad Wolf again?” she mumbled.

“I told you I can,” she could feel his voice vibrate in his chest.

“You didn’t, actually.”

“Of course I did, you just weren’t listening,” he taunted in the way he did lately – almost fondly. Teasingly.

She snorted feebly, but couldn’t help the faint grin. “Of course.” She opened her eyes again, when he eventually lay her down on the infirmary bed. Careful. Slowly. Her look found his as it lingered on her, still hovering over her. His hand found a strand on her face, stroking it back and it made her lids flutter. There was a silent exchange of something she wasn’t even sure of. Maybe promise. Maybe understanding.

Maybe something more.

His voice was gentle enough not to break the moment. “It’s possible you’re are going to fall unconscious when I lay Bad Wolf dormant again.”

Honestly, she’d welcome it. She was so damn tired. “And then?” she still wanted to know how this would end.

His grin was small. “When you wake up, you know how to find me.”

<>

Rose had no memory of slipping away. But she must have, since she opened her eyes to a dimly lit infirmary that lightened up a bit with her gaining consciousness.

She took a deep breath, trying to check how she was feeling.

She felt better, actually. Still exhausted but not so utterly powerless. She slowly sat up, using her hands to prop herself up, testing how that felt.

Was she surprised that she felt okay?

With a sigh, she rubbed her hand over her face. Suddenly noticing something was different. She only realised a second later that her ring was missing.

He must have taken it from her. Which made sense when she couldn’t access Bad Wolf anymore. If he actually was keeping his word.

It was so strange, part of her was sure he would and at the same time she doubted everything.

After a few more minutes of collecting herself, she finally hopped off the bed. Asking the TARDIS to lead her to him.

<>

When Rose saw the control room door, her heart was strangely heavy. With everything that had happened. She knew she would need ages to process it all.

She opened the door and saw him on the console. He was working, focusing on that. Whatever it was. “There she is,” he simply commented. “Your vitals are fine by the way.”

The same question popped into her head she asked so many times, but never really got an answer. “What about long-term effects?”

He paused. Then sighed as he finally glanced her, both arms leaning on the panel. Maybe he would be honest for once. “It’s entirely possible there aren’t any.”

She almost huffed. “But?”

He shrugged. “It’s potent stuff that’s running through your veins. Unpredictable.”

She lightly shook her head. “You’re welcome, by the way,” she bit out with a cynic edge.

That made him grin, his sharpness prominent without being as dark. “Pleasure, pet.”

His tone and voice made it crawl under her skin, not sure in what way. Not sure it was all uncomfortable. She had weird feelings all over the place right now. Before she could ask if he needed more tests or anything, she suddenly noticed something different. And that was the Chornon-Anchor.

Dark.

No movement of her heartbeat.

Her eyes widened as she realised what it meant.

It was strange to see it so lifeless, this machine that had been the centre of everything, the thing that had kept her tied to his side and made all of it possible in the first place.

“It’s done,” his voice cut through the quiet. “We’re finished here.”

Like always, he didn’t avoid her gaze. But she couldn’t read him. His face void of any real emotions.

Rose nodded, though it didn’t feel like the victory she’d imagined. Probably because she couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t trust that this was real. “So that’s it, then?”

His gaze skimmed her, shifting in a way that she didn’t know how it made her feel. “That’s it.” He turned back to the device, his movements deliberate as he reached inside and pulled out a cluster of wires, severing them with a sharp tug. The display flickered once, the last gasp of power, then went dark again, and Rose felt an odd sense of finality settle over her.

She was free.

Really free.

For a moment, the silence stretched between them, thick and … uneasy? She glanced at him, searching his face, but his expression was carefully blank. And she wondered how much that bothered her. And why. She wanted to say something, anything, to break the tension, but every word felt wrong. So instead, she forced a grin, though it was more a mask than anything else, a shield against the vulnerability she felt.

“Are you sorry?”

Rose had asked with her voice light, almost teasing, but it cut through the room like a knife. She had intended to make it sound like a casual question, but there was a tremor in her tone she couldn’t hide. The grin she wore was brittle, not hiding the hurt, the hopes and the sheer mess of her emotions underneath.

Man, she wished she could be as jaded as him.

Only she saw something flicker in his face after all. His expression tightened, a frown tugging at his lips as he studied her, trying to gauge what she was really asking. Or what she actually wanted to know. What she hoped his answer would be to that. “Sorry?” he repeated, his voice laced with a mix of mockery and something … different. A rawness that he couldn’t quite suppress. His usual disguise not quite as fit. “For what, Rose?” he challenged, eyes sparkling a little darker now. “For saving the universe? For doing what had to be done? For dragging you into this mess? For hurting you?”

Quite a selection he had there.

Her grin slipped away. She suddenly didn’t feel like hiding anymore. Not burying her feelings, whatever they were exactly. “Yeah,” she therefore said, softer now. “All of that.”

And like always – real emotions made him falter. He could be predictable. But she was glad she saw his mask also fall, at least a bit. He wasn’t emotional, but it wasn’t that wall of bricks. He softly blinked with a hinted shake of his head. “I don’t do sorry,” he answered matter-of-factly. His voice lacked its usual conviction, and his next words faintly tinged with something like regret. “I don’t get to be sorry.”

She tilted her head. This spiked a certain challenge in her. “Don’t you?” she dared. “You’ sure you aren’t just dysfunctional ‘bout it?”

He chuckled under his breath while peering at her, not really with humour. But he wasn’t commenting it.

She kind of wished he would. Even though she didn’t know why. Or what she was hoping for.

This whole thing had been intense. It wouldn’t just be gone and over for her. Not like that. And for better or worse – her relationship to him had been intense. And she knew, she was a hundred percent sure she wanted this whole thing to be over, there was nothing she wanted more. That had never changed, not for one second.

It still felt weird that now it really would be.

Was this wrong?

The silence felt heavy with things unspoken. Things she wasn’t even sure she wanted to unpack. Probably not.

So she nodded once, a pinched not-quite-smile on her lips. “Goodbye, Master,” she finally said almost flatly. There was no anger, no accusation. It was just how it was.

He still wasn’t readable to her. His face reserved with something underneath that was just prominent enough to tell her it held meaning without revealing what. So she broke away from that, away from games and confusion. She turned to leave, walking towards the door.

“I might be.” His words were so soft they almost disappeared into the quiet of the TARDIS. But they still hit her, because her body stopped on its own accord. She froze for a moment, waiting a beat. Turning her head, frowning, questioning.

He was still reluctant. But on the brink of something real. He slowly blinked, his voice sounding less emotional than it was. “I might be sorry.”

It wasn’t an apology, not really, especially not for what he’s done. But it was the closest he’d ever come. Rose nodded, her eyes glistening, accepting it for what it was. It was like she felt all her scars from this time just a bit deeper, just a bit more real and felt just a bit more crushed that they could never erase what happened in the first place.

Rose turned away at last, finally reaching the door to open it. Not looking back, as she closed it.

She exhaled, emotions suddenly flooding her, pressing tears into her eyes.

She couldn’t believe it. Everything.

She walked towards the beautiful, blue box and suddenly felt herself running. She saw how the Doctor stepped out, swift steps rushing closer until they crashed into each other. She squeezed her eyes shut, first giggling, laughing, but suddenly she found herself crying with a weight that made her tremble.

He didn’t let go. He was there to pick up her pieces.