Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Dying is shit.”

You hardly ever cursed. It wasn’t exactly in you. Granted, you hadn’t said a bad word in your native language and you wondered if that made any difference. Still, dying seemed like such a glorious act on your home planet and yet here you were, complaining.

Gallifrey. Of course your thoughts went to Gallifrey.

You huffed out a laugh, the action causing your muscles to spasm. You were a nobody on that planet – just barely a Time Lord, trying your best to stay in the shadows as your peers practically leapt at the chance to show off. You, on the other hand, just wanted to live your life without politics.

Granted, you were good at politics. The irony of your life was that you could remember political rules of other planets in mere moments because it interested you, seeing other cultures. It’s what made you actually finish your studies at the Academy. You wanted the knowledge to travel the universe peacefully.

Then, just as you thought you were going to earn your freedom from the self-righteous planet… the Time War.

Not even finished with your studies and you were shipped off to a fight in a war that could have been prevented if your society wasn’t so adamant about interfering. If the High Council interfered sooner with the Dalek invasion, maybe you wouldn’t have lost your old life.

Still, with horrors upon horrors in your young life – the feel of a Delek’s mind manipulations and physical agonies enough to keep you up at odd hours years later – you felt as if this death wasn’t justified in the slightest.

Your first regeneration. You really, really wished someone had taught you how to start the process.

“Maybe I just die,” you muttered to yourself, “go to sleep, wake up a slightly changed person. Sounds easy. Sounds fine. Probably not painless, but I had worse.”

Your wound was covering your time ship’s floor – thick blood destroying your favorite rug. Of course it was a gut wound, those hurt the worst.

You were so stupid, rushing in to try and stop that idiot. You didn’t have rigid morals – not when you’ve seen everything good and bad the universe had to offer – but hitting a child was a hard no. It was so simple to grab the idiot’s arm and throw him to the ground.

Less simple to dodge a bullet or two when you’re distracted.

The child may have been saved, but it was you that was forced to stumble back to your ship, knees weak, collapsing just as you got through the doors.

Your ship heard your cries and had at least dematerialized by themself, floating into the Time Vortex lazily as you quite literally bled out. Four hundred years old and you were going to die… Seemed like a fair bargain, considering your cards so far.

Your vision blurred and a sudden anxiety hit you again. Tears gathered in your eyes, properly scared, and you wondered when regeneration energy would finally appear.

“Do you think,” you asked your ship, your only constant in this universe, “do you think I could do it wrong? I mean, I haven’t… I haven’t died before. What if I ended up with no legs? That would stink, wouldn’t it? Probably get shoved in some matrix to be laughed at, wouldn’t I?”

Your limbs were cold. Was this it?

“Hey,” you said softly, a hand going to the floor, emotions all over the place… “we’ve looked before, I know… But is there anyone out there? Another Time Lord that could… Could talk me through this?”

You knew that on Gallifrey, there were entire rooms and devices to make the process easier. You heard no screams when you walked past the room as a child – only watched as Time Lords stumbled their way out the door, a brand new person.

And – and you knew that usually family was there. Or friends. Or anyone to talk to. Someone to distract you through the agony that sunk into your skin and scratched against nerves.

You whimpered when you forced yourself to no longer press a hand against your stomach, letting your blood spill out. There was no reason to prolong this.

“I’m gonna die,” you whispered, crying, “I don’t want to die. I like being me. What if I’m not at all the same? What – what if…”

You could not be doing this right. Your eyes went back to your blood covered hands, waiting for the tell-tail sign of regeneration, but there was nothing. You were going to die in the only home you had in years.

In the only being that actually listened to you.

“Hey,” you whispered to your ship, “I think… I think I’m dying. For real. I don’t think I know what to do. Fancy that, a Time Lord that fails at doing the one thing we’re known for. What a way for me to go.”

They groaned, low and deep, and you felt their sadness through your telepathic bond – their worry echoed around your mind, urging you to try, but you weren’t even sure you knew what trying was.

“You’ll go somewhere nice, yeah?” You asked – no, demanded them, “you’ll soak up all that good Vortex Energy and then you’ll settle somewhere peaceful, right? Not a beach though… We hate sand.”

Their grief was loud in your mind. You didn’t know what else to offer them.

Your eyes were closing – or trying to close – but you weren’t ready to die. You thought you had been during the war, but not now. Not when you had your ship and you had every person in the universe to talk to. You just started to like this little life you made.

Then… They moved.

You body was thrown into a leg of your couch and you screamed in agony as the action vibrated right to your injury. More tears escaped your eyes, dripping into your hair, and you didn’t even have the energy to wipe them away.

“Why… Why’d you do that?” You slurred, “hurt. Really hurt. Rather rude.”

Knock.

A knock at your door – a rapid beat of four, something so simple, and you wondered what your ship was trying to do. You waited, speechless, and listened again as those four knocks repeated themselves.

The doors swung open not of your own violation. You gasped, trying to – trying to what? You could hardly move. There was no use in defending yourself or your ship, you simply couldn’t. You were at this person’s mercy and yet you still couldn’t move.

This person – a purple suit, of all things, and dark black hair with piercing eyes – stood just outside your doors, looking around with curious eyes until they landed on you.

“How,” The person questioned, his voice dark and foreboding, “does a human have a TARDIS?”

“Hu-human?” You asked him, wondering if this was real or not, “Not-not human, I’ll have you… Know. It’s a… I’m a…” Words were too exhausting, “Give me a break here… Trying to die.”

The person walked over to you, his footsteps loud, almost echoing and you were forced to look him in the eyes as he glanced at your injury. His expression didn’t change as he took in the damage, and you realized that he was used to death.

“You’re…” What had your ship done? “Time Lord?”

He hummed, “yes. Heard of me, then?”

“I’m…” It was getting hard to breathe, “I’m…”

He crouched down to you, but it wasn’t out of sympathy, “spit it out.”

“I’m a Time Lord,” You said, “Don’t… Don’t know how… How to… How to regenerate.”

His eyes snapped to yours, fury in his gaze, “don’t lie to me.”

“Please,” you said, and you held out your hand to him, never liking the traditional way of greeting but knowing that he would understand, “I don’t know… I don’t know how…”

He gripped your forearm, whispering the word “contact” with hardly any warning, and you let him into the very edge of your mind, finding your head clearer there just marginally.

“Who are you?” You asked him, taking the time to actually study him. You knew that there was no Time Lords left after the war – not ones you could find – and you felt something rise in your chest dangerously at the thought of no longer being alone.

Hope at this age was foolish.

“I am the Master,” he said, regarding the surroundings you had created, “impressive mental block. Still, the cracks are rather glaring.”

“Excuse me for not being perfect while dying,” you said without thinking then, upon thinking about it, “did you just say the Master?”

He smirked at you, proud and arrogant, and the thought that flew across your brain was “I’m going to kill my ship if I survive.”

“Ah,” you said, nodding through your panic, “Huh. You’re… Famous. Infamous? You’re the inspiration for half of the Academy’s pranks. You and the Deca. I mean, you’re brilliant-”

Your mind splintered. You groaned as the pain became overwhelming, your arm falling from his grasp as you head lulled, your vision swirling.

“Focus,” the Master said, looking down at you, “why aren’t you regenerating?”

“Don’t…” Oh, talking was hard again, “don’t know… How. First… First one.”

“First one?” He questioned, unbelieving, “How can it be your…”

Your eyes closed, a shuttering breath leaving your lips as you glanced down at yourself, the blood overwhelming. You were going to die.

He gripped your hand unexpectedly, causing your eyes to fly open. There was something defenseless in his stare, something desperate, and you watched as he kindly opened his mind to you, letting you see… See how…

He’s regenerated so many times that it seemed cruel. You watched multiple deaths, some of the gruesome while others hurt in the name of betrayal. He hovered near you as you studied the way golden energy seemed to encompass him on command as he breathed out.

“You have to let go,” he said, looking towards a past self of his as she glanced at her own hands in fury, “feel that energy inside of you.”

You thought about what death felt like – terrifying – and then tired to look past that, seeing something much more horrifying. The energy of a thousand suns, burning you, and you cried out for an entirely different reason.

“Good,” he whispered to you, his hand still in yours  - both of you now covered in your own blood - as that energy blazed across your skin, “let it flow through you.”

“Hurts,” you told him, vulnerable and scared, and you never imagined you would meet a Time Lord like him and cry pathetically.

He seemed to hear your thoughts – of course he did, “dying hurts. Don’t let the High Council fool you into thinking it’s some kind of honor. It’s a biological defense. Let… Let it take every single thing. Don’t try to stop it now.”

But the energy hurt, what didn’t he understand about that? You gripped his hand harder, just to have someone close inside the storm. Every part of this was painful – burning off your skin – and your screamed one last time as it consumed you wholly, taking you deeper and deeper into the flames until you knew nothing about anything.

Not even your name.

You breathed out heavily as you came back to, your hand still in his. Your hand… Your hand…

Skin that wasn’t yours stared back at you – a different shade and everything, underneath the red. You glanced at him, frightened, but he only shook his head, looking oddly relieved.

“Good,” he said, “motor functions are working. Looks like you didn’t butcher the process too bad.”

“Butcher?” You uttered, and your voice got chocked up in your throat, surprised to hear it come from yourself, “Hello? Heellooo?”

Right. Right, totally different body. Still you. It had to be you, because you were still gripping a very famous and high rolling Time Lord’s hand as if you needed it like you needed your hearts. You stared at your joined fingers, wondering why he would be so kind to a random stranger, and then decided that the kindness was good enough to not question. Funny, you were terrified of him a moment ago.

“That would be a brand new larynx,” the Master said drily as you continued testing your own voice, “changing faces comes with loads of surprises.”

“Right,” you answered, and you let him pull you up into a sitting position. You were not surprised to see some of your clothing burnt off you. You were, however, very aware of the fact that the only thing left covering yourself was your undergarments.

“Still a woman,” you muttered, “Didn’t want to be a man. Seems… Reductant. Oh, reductant. I like that word now. Cool. Oh, another one.”

The Master rolled his eyes, “Yes, you have a slightly different perception of words. However, the process isn’t quite over. You know this?”

You nodded, “Yeah, internal organs now, still healing. Not a total idiot just…”

You were scared. And you had no one to guide you. And you didn’t know what the heck you had been doing. You think… No, you knew that if he didn’t come along, you would be properly dead, Time Lord or not.

“Now,” he said, finally releasing your hand, “your name?”

“Oh,” you said, blushing – you blushed now? “the Professor. Well, I would be, never went through graduation, technically. Shipped off to Skaro before my class could go through the ceremony.”

The Master’s face did… Something. His eyes looked down at you, a sudden sadness, and you realized you weren’t the only one burned by the war. Of course you weren’t – he was apparently one of the ones that tried to stop it.

Or was that the Doctor? You always got the two confused considering they seemed to be a pair.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, and you had a funny feeling he hadn’t said those words in a while, “if you survived anything the Time War dished out, you certainly earned your title.”

You did not preen at the words.

You weren’t a young child anymore, trying to please your professors. After all, that’s why you chose the name, because you always wanted to be better than them. They had run you ragged, degrading you for never getting it right on the first try, and you never wanted to look weak again.

“I looked,” you said suddenly, “I looked for a very long time for another Time Lord.”

“Come on,” he said, giving you yet another hand to hold, “you should rest. You’ll feel like death warmed over for a couple of hours, maybe a day or two.”

You stumbled when you got to your feet, your modesty just barely intact as you were forced to kick off the bottom half of your trousers, turning them into shorts. Your shirt was hanging on by threads and covered in blood. Still, the very first thing you did was stumble over to the small mirror your ship had and study your face.

It was different.

That was putting it mildly. A stranger stared back at you – different lips, different smile, different nose, different hair – it was all different. It was overwhelming.

“Most helpful advice I heard,” the Master called out, a bit further away as he was looking around at the mess of your ship, “look at the eyes.”

So you did.

And you got it, nearly instantly. You got lucky, you suppose, because the same color orbs stared back at you. And you realized, leaning in, that it was still you in there – all hopeful travels with some age-old wisdom – and you felt just the slightest bit better.

Your ship hummed against your hand, their relief so clear that your smiled at them, your promise of killing them forgotten.

The Master. In your ship. You're totally going to get yourself killed.

“What is this?”

You turned to what he was looking at, wincing when he poked at the very delicate wiring job you had to stabilize the shields, “uh, that you’re allowed to call butchered. There’s only so much of the manual you can read before you throw away the rules.”

He glanced at you, “were you not taught basic engineering at the Academy?”

“Yes,” you said, feeling judged, “said I didn’t graduate, though. My whole class missed our last lesson – Time Travel 101. Should have seen me figuring out how to pilot by myself. Nearly took out a solar system or two.”

The look on his face returned, “you did good,” he said, “for not knowing what you were doing. However, there’s a couple of dangerous cable configurations here. Leave it like this too long and you’re likely to break something else.”

You nodded, blushing once again, “sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, turning towards you fiercely, “you survived. That’s more than most in the universe.”

You looked away, his… Ferocity scaring you. It seemed you weren’t the only one who was alone too long. You wanted to ask him a thousand questions, wanted to excuse your ship and your tears from before, wanted to thank him for saving your life.

As you went to start, you felt something flare up in your stomach.

“Ow,” you muttered, a hand going to your side, wincing, “that hurt.”

“Where’s your medbay?” He asked, “you’ll have a couple of those. I warned you, nothing about this is fun.”

“Getting that now, yeah,” you gestured for him to follow you, leading the way to a real bed, “feeling really peachy. Dying is great. A wonderful experience.”

He huffed out a laugh, “wait until your seventh.”

You glanced at him, looking at him not as a Time Lord but as a person, and you wondered what he had been through to say every word with such contempt. Something was hurting in his soul, you could tell, and all you wanted was to ask him about it.

The only other Time Lord you’d seen in hundreds of years.

But there was another bout of pain, enough to have you leaning against the hallway of your ship, just outside the door of your very disorganized medbay, and you could only say a couple of words…

“I’m gonna pass out.”

And you did, right into his arms.

You woke up to a very white ceiling.

“Oh great,” you said, “the medbay. My favorite.”

“Do you always wake up cursing things?”

You yelped, forcing yourself up into a sitting position with a groaned that didn’t warrant that amount of movement. You had forgotten all about the Master in your what must have been a healing coma. You breathed in, checking the time, and you realized it had only been an hour.

“Hi,” you breathed, “you’re still here.”

“Contrary to popular belief,” he told you drily, “I won’t leave a young Time Lord alone after their first regeneration.”

“I’m not young,” was the first thing out of your mouth, sounding young, “I’m four hundred years old!”

He raised an eyebrow, “let me know how you feel after you reached your thousands.”

Your mouth fell open. The idea of immortality had always been terrifying to you. You knew that it was never looked at like that on Gallifrey – but it was hard to define it as anything but when the very few friends you made in your travelers were already gone.

Thousands of years. It seemed unreal.

He walked away just slightly, grabbing at something on a tray, and you huffed as he scanned you without permission, rolling your eyes.

“Are you always this invasive with new people?”

“Only with the annoying ones.”

You made a fake gasping noise, “Why I have never-” You said with an ungodly accent, trying to pull a smile out the stranger that saved your life.

He didn’t, but there was certainly something in his eyes at your actions – maybe just a small smile ghosting across his lips. He was going to be a tough case to crack then. Good, you liked a challenge.

“Congratulations,” he told you, handing you the scanner, “you’ve managed a perfect regeneration.”

Yeah, you could see that. Blood pressure looked good, organs appeared to be in the right spot, and brain waves perfectly normal. All things considered, dying sucked, but at least it was over now. Still, you didn’t want to do that again any time soon.

Then, you remembered your manners.

“Thank you,” you said sincerely, “I really don’t know where I would be without you.”

“Dead, likely,” he replied, uncaring, “I think your TARDIS would have killed you twice over, though. Does it enjoy shocking you too or is it just my presence alone?”

“They’re shocking you,” you said, glaring at the ceiling before you knew what you were doing, “I’m shoveling sand into your console. Who taught you manners?”

The ship’s lights flickered obnoxiously and you rolled your eyes, sighing, “Time machine older than civilizations,” you told him, “and they’re still a child. I’m so sorry.”

The Master nodded, accepting your apology with a shrug of his shoulders, “You and I have bigger problems than a childish TARDIS.”

His tone. You hadn’t heard something like it in a very long time – verging on commanding with a touch of disappointment. It seemed the skilled was passed down from Time Lord to Time Lord – or from age – and you hated the way your body tensed, ready for a fight.

This wasn’t Gallifrey. This was your home and he no right to abuse that.

“Problems?” You questioned, your tone just respectful enough of to be addressing another Time Lord, “such as?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, taking in your tense shoulders by squaring his own, “my apologies, Professor, it seems I’ve disrespected you.”

Your gusto faded under his stare, “It’s been a long time since I’ve received an order from a superior,” you told him darkly, “there’s not many people I trust, let alone a Time Lord of a higher standing.”

“Of higher standing?” He questioned tersely, “Now there’s something I haven’t heard in a very long time.”

You blushed – for you, Gallifrey was a blink of an eye. Who knew how long it was since the Master saw the Citadel. Did he ever find a way around the Time Bubble? Did he ever get to go back home? Where had he been this entire time?

You got up from the bed, not surprised to find yourself a little unsteady on your feet. After all, they weren’t your feet a couple of hours ago. You suddenly vowed to never be killed again – the entire process was too painful and confusing.

The Master, meanwhile, was leaning against one of the walls, observing you. You weren’t sure if it was creepy or not – he was obviously very observant by nature, but he watched you with something else in his eyes, something that had the hair on the back of your neck standing up.

“You don’t have to be here,” you told him, making sure to keep your voice level, “thank you for helping me – I don’t think I could thank you enough, honestly – but I’ve regenerated. Limbs and everything. And even clothes which are-”

You glanced down at your body, noticing the robe for the first time, and blushed spectacularly. You were convinced you could feel the heat in the very palms of your hands with how embarrassing it was to think about The Master dressing you.

The Master’s eyes revealed nothing. Instead, he stepped aside as you made your way out of the room and went on a brand new quest of finding clothes that fit this new body. It was perhaps the strangest thought you ever had, but you were actually excited.

Weird, a couple of hours ago, you dreaded the idea of a new body.

“I’m going to find clothes… That fit,” you said to him, “Could you wait in the console room?”

The Master smirked, “a moment ago you wanted me to leave.”

You rolled your eyes, “a moment ago I was a whole different person. Give me a couple more moments and maybe I’ll kick you out instead.”  

He laughed.

He actually laughed – a fully belly thing that had him leaning slightly over, his hand on the wall supporting him. He wagged a finger at you, pointing, and you watched, slack-jawed, and his giggles dialed down just enough to say,

“I like you very much.”

You made sure not to take long.

It felt like a rush against time itself to find an outfit as the mysterious Master roamed your halls. Despite the small spat, you know that your ship would alert you if he tried anything and you allowed yourself a deep breath when you closed the door behind you.

You died.

You died, a Time Lord almost as famous as Rassilon himself showed up, you lived, and now you were in your own closet with different sized limbs with said famous Time Lord walking around your home and proclaiming that he liked you.

You weren’t even sure if you liked you!

You shook your head, your eyes going to the various outfits your ship had, apparently, laid out for you. Your ship loved to dress you up – never wearing the same outfit once except to sleep – and you could already see that they were excited as you were about the idea of finding entirely different clothes.

“So,” you said, eyes looking over a very nice-looking velvet suit, “there’s another Time Lord in my home and he’s seen me naked. What could I possibly wear that could get me my dignity back?”

The floor under your feet vibrated and you watched as the closet moved by itself, rows and rows spinning passed you as your oldest friend, apparently, picked out what could make you feel like yourself again.

The rows stopped and, feeling giddy, you smiled wide at their selection.

“Twentieth century earth, huh?” You asked your ship, running your hands over the black leather jacket and admiring the rips in the jeans, “Yeah, I think it’ll suit me. Oh, with combat boots, right? Let’s do it.”

Needless to say, it suited you.

The Master’s eyes followed you as you walked into your own ship’s console. To your credit, you didn’t immediately bombard him with the questions you had but it was close.

After all, you felt like yourself again… Mostly. And, since the war, all you’ve wanted to do was find another one of your people. You had lost hope once or twice or a billion times, but now there was someone right in front of you...

Yet… It was someone who had a reputation that, loathed you admit it, scared you.

“Your vortex regulator is ripe to implode.”

You blinked.

“No,” you responded, walking next to him, looking at the levels, “it’s fine. I need that power to bypass the Time Interference sensors.”

“Why would you need to-”

“Because otherwise the shields try to melt,” you responded dryly, “and because the shield regulator’s manifold is cannibalized from Rexs 24, which had a part I use to pressurize-”

“The vortex regulator,” the Master hummed, sounding impressed, “a band aid on a larger problem, however.”

“Yeah,” you replied, not used to someone who actually understood, “my shield, which leads to that contraption on the floor which – yes – is very likely to disintegrate sooner rather than later, which means I need to go to junkyard soon.”

“There is some semblance of engineering skills in there.”

Again, you found yourself unsure of how to act.

“Thanks?” You said, “had to be good at engineering, after a while.”

The Master went silent, staring yet again at you, something in his eyes that you did not recognize – something old and ancient and likely hasn’t seen the daylight in a long time. It… It almost hurt to look at him. He was a reflection of yourself when you had first been captured and you looked away, a hand going to one of the screens, pretending to check where you were.

He took a step – half a step, really – and leveled out the ship for you without a word. Then, all at once:

“I understand what it’s like to crawl your way back to freedom.”

You leaned against the console, eyeing him, wondering how he could say such a profound things at such a strange moment. Or, maybe to him, there was no better time. After all, if you reached your thousands, you’d probably never stop talking.

“Yeah,” you said softly, remembering his words – remembering laser rifles and Dalek probs and the horrors in your short life, “My ship and I are familiar with that feeling.”

You blinked – long and hard – and you let feelings that were better off dead get pushed as deep down as they could go. A smile went on your face, perfecting the mask, and you moved away from him just slightly, fermenting the change in your attitude.

“I have a lot of questions,” you said to him, meaning it, “and I’m hoping you can help me with that.”

“Not me,” he responded, “Well, not me alone. Though I loath to admit it, there’s someone else who would like to meet you… Someone that would be better suited for this conversation.”

“There’s more of us?”

There it was again, that hope, and you felt your hearts skip not one but two beats at the idea of other survivors. You had thought for so long that the Deleks had managed to wipe out all of your people on their quest for world domination and, with the torture you went through, you believe it.

“Just one more,” the Master said, “An old friend. Enemy, really. We don’t really work off of silly human definitions – the Doctor.”

Your mouth fell open. You were almost tired of being that surprised.

“The Doctor,” you uttered, “The one who ended the war. The one who saved the universe. Your partner… Is alive?”

“I’m more offended that the fact that she’s my partner made it to that list. Now-”

It was like watching lightning.

You watched as he took a step towards you, practically leaping, and your back went into the console painfully. You gripped what you had – a pen, of all things – and made your stance wide as you took in the very clear threat.

“If that little fact was to leak out,” he whispered to you, madness in his eyes, “there will be consequences. Do you understand?”

You were scared, no denying that, but the facts weren’t lining up. You couldn’t help it. After all, you were good at politics – you had known every single official marriage within Gallifreyan circles for a reason. Knowing them meant you could gain an advantage.

Knowing who was available was your chance to get on a time ship and leave the dreadful planet.

“Why?” You breathed out, “What does it matter?”

“It matters to me,” he told you, “and Time Lord or not, I will not have my reputation attached to the Doctor.”

You were so hopelessly confused.

He took your silence as defiance, and his hand was almost at your throat.

“I’ve yet to hear you agree, Professor.”

“Is this what happens in a thousand years, then?” You asked him, not backing down, not listening to your instincts at all.

The Master didn’t move.

“You just forget about everyone and everything you ever cared about? You – what? – you move from one planet to the next all alone, without anyone from your past, and you just… Continue on?”

“You poor, young, dear,” he said to you, voice like a viper, “how naïve you must be.”

“I am not naïve,” you laughed, “you have no idea the things I’ve seen. You don’t know me.”

The Master’s head went back, just slightly, and the small action had both of you re-evaluating what exactly you were doing. You wiggled the pen in your hand, feeling its very small weight, and wondered what the shift was between the Master that had saved you and the Master that had decided you were a threat.

“The Time Lords lied to you,” The Master told you, “About everything, but especially about the war. Everything with the Time War was a lie.”

You snorted, “obviously. They sent my class, literal children, into a warzone and didn’t even teach us how to fly our own ships. We were never meant to make it back.”

“And engineer and a strategist,” The Master complimented, “Perhaps we will get along.”

“We weren’t just then?” You asked him, all teeth, “I was enjoying it, I think. Has anyone told you you’re terrifying?”

“Only the ones I’ve kept alive.”

Rassilon, he was a piece of work.

You wondered what the Doctor was like – the hero of the universe – and found yourself not very excited to learn that there was another Time Lord out there. Funny how life works sometimes, where the universe hands you everything you could ever want only to make the entire journey painful.

“This is my ship,” you told him, “and while your threats are, well, threatening, and I’m very thankful for everything… I only ever wanted someone…” You breathed out, scared to tell him the truth, “All I ever wanted was someone that understood.”

The Master’s eyes softened – just marginally, just enough to find the person behind whatever he was doing, and you let the pen fall out of your hand.

“The Doctor,” the Master said, somehow still standing tall, “is more suited for your questions.”

“Why?” You asked him, “Why can’t I ask you?”

He leaned over your console, looking over things, and before you could even begin to think about stopping him, he was opening your dust-filled communication channels, powering them up.

“You won’t like my answers,” he said, “get this running, will you? The Doctor won’t answer my calls, but she’ll latch onto a rogue TARDIS.”

“Why won’t I like your answers?” You asked him, re-routing power at a dizzying speed, “You have to know what happened. Are there more of us? Is Gallifrey back? How did you survive? You’re from the Deca, how are you so much older than-”

“Professor,” The Master practically growled, “my patience is a wild thing this go-around. Do not push me on this.”

The communication channel was open. The Master entered coordinates you have never seen before, hooking onto a planet’s communication system for more power, and put out an SOS signal with an ease that made you very jealous.

The warning bells went off.

“What did you do?” You asked him, panicked, running to the screens, “My ship-”

“Is doing what it is designed to do in an emergency situation with a recently regenerated Time Lord – all power to shields and off to the closest TARDIS it can find.”

“Now?” You shouted, ducking as a small explosion came from the console – a rather regular thing, honestly, “I didn’t agree to this!”

“Didn’t you?” The Master argued over the noise, “you wanted answers – here they come.”

Your ship continued to beep obnoxiously and you watched as another ship, this so-called TARDIS came up on the radar, only a few timestreams away. Within a couple of seconds, you would be meeting yet another Time Lord after two hundred years of thinking all of your people were dead.

Everything stopped.

You felt as if you couldn’t breathe, even with a new set of lungs.

The Master didn’t seem to notice your panic. Instead, he was already walking out towards the doors of your ship, apparently ready to throw open those trusty doors to let The Doctor into your duct-taped, time and space traveling ship.

You took a step forward to stop him – to tell him you’ll take his abridged version of what happened to their home planet, that answers were overrated, that you deathly scared of these entire circumstances – but the universe had other ideas.

Your ship door’s slammed open and you wondered, oddly, that if it wasn’t reenforced wood if the poor thing would have splinter.

Whatever progress was made in trying to stop the Master was completely erased when she walked into your console room. Again, your back found the edge of your console with two large steps and you watched, enraptured, as the Master and the Doctor glared at each other.

Your mind was trying to keep up with all the stimuli and yet, even as a Time Lord, you felt sorely lacking.

You counted three humans and… And a something (human but yet so wrong. Far too old)… Behind the Doctor, who was just staring at her surroundings and yet saying words so fast and low to him that they didn’t register. Behind the humans and whatever that mess of timeline was next to them was the Doctor’s own console room, strangely glowing orange, and you found yourself wondering how she had managed to get rid of the white walls that your home seemed to love.

Then, as the noise grew, and the Master and the Doctor continued their very loud, incomprehensible fighting, you felt yourself just lose it.

“Hey!” You shouted to the two of them, unhinged.

The two turned towards you, completely surprised, and you bared your teeth at them.

“Now,” you huffed, pulling at your new jacket by the lapels, “I have just died, regenerated, had my ship apparently send out an old Gallifreyan code I’ve never even seen before, and now there’s six people in my ship, two of whom are Time Lords that have been missing all of my lives and they’re yelling.”

“I-”

“Yelling,” you said again to the Doctor, getting in front of her, “on my ship!”

The Master laughed.

You pointed at him, a finger nearly on his chest, “you hijacked my ship!”

He was still smirking, “your ship was rather willing to go, weren’t they? Besides, you re-routed the power yourself.”

“On your orders!” You screeched at him, “what did you expect me to do? Not listen to you? You’re The Master.”

You felt lightheaded and you found herself turning away from them, you hands going up in the air in something that was both a shrug and pure exasperation.

“Wait, wait,” The odd human asked, looking at you strangely, “you’re a Time Lord?”

“Yup!” You said, “I don’t even want to know why a human knows what I am. That’s, like, problem number twenty-seven on my list now.”

“Seriously,” The Doctor asked, walking closer to you and then stopping in the middle of her stride, obviously undecided by how she should act around you, “You’re a Time Lord?”

You swallowed, “yeah, I would hope so. Otherwise that regeneration I just did would be really awkward.”

The Doctor turned her eyes away from you and you watched as the Master nodded ever so slightly, confirming. Something passed over the Doctor’s face – something dark and confusing – and you saw it disappeared within a blink of an eye, a very small smile on her face to replace whatever she had first thought.

“What’s your name?”

Huh, it was the other human – young, kind eyes, you realized, and taking an ever so small whiff, you got a taste of twentieth century London on her… On all of them, apparently. Then, looking just a bit closer, you realized that they were drowning in Anton energy, meaning they’d been time traveling for a while.

How? Were they from the Time Agency? Had the Doctor done something to them?  

You head was pounding. Wait, was the room spinning? Did the Master do something?

“Professor,” the Master said, distracting you, “what’s wrong?”

You shook your head, your eyes going to your very new hands. They felt… Everything was tingling, like you’ve been sleeping on your entire body wrong. You tried to take a breath, but it got stuck in your throat.

“I…” It was too much effort to explain.

No point, anyway. It seemed you were destined to have a meeting with the ground.

Or, at least, destined to again have the Master’s arms catch you as fainted.

Chapter Text

There were voices.

Loud voices.

You couldn’t open your eyes yet, still too exhausted, but you listened as the Master’s voice shouted over the Doctor’s, with the Doctor saying something about regeneration and the Master saying something about it being the first time…

It was all rather mundane, honestly. With the way the Master had behaved on your ship, you would have thought they’d be at blows by now.

“Oh, hey!”

One single eye opened, and you found yourself staring at the girl that had asked for your name before your untimely collapse.

“Hi,” You said back, “fainted, huh? How dramatic.”

The girl shrugged, “Don't worry, the Doctor really needed her rest, too-"

"Didn't last very long, though,” The boy interrupted, “bounced back up quite quickly and the next thing I knew, she was deleting everything off my phone."

Right then, british, phone-carrying humans. Twenty-first century. early two thousands, possibly. You weren’t caught up completely on human culture and only knew their time periods because of their similar physical characteristics. Humans were shockingly resilient and you had become attached to their culture after the war. 

“Well,” you swallowed, slowly getting up from the ground, “won’t be deleting things.”

“How are you feeling?” The older human asked, “took a nasty fall, I’m afraid. Nearly hit your head. Lucky he caught you.”

You went to stand, wanting to know that answer for yourself, and stared as the very strange human held out his hand, apparently wanting to help you up. It’s been a long time since anyone had shown you any sort of common courtesy and it took you a moment to accept the help.

He took your hand gently and waited on your mark to actually get up from the ground. Well, at least you knew your mental shields were in place – no bleed through of his mind came to you. That was a win.

“Jack,” the man who helped you said, “Jack Harkness, but you can call me Captain Jack.”

The younger boy made a noise of disgust, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to disagree. You didn’t have time for romance in your last body and this body seemed entirely uninterested. You raised an eyebrow at him as he released your hand.

Still, there was a smirk on your face. He had some level of confidence, you’d give him that.

“The Professor,” you said, then looked at the rest of them, “And you are…?”

“I’m Yaz,” the girl – Yaz said, “this is Ryan, and this is Graham.”

“And you’re humans?” You asked them, “Sorry, don’t mean to be rude, but all of you are covered in Anton energy, which equals time travel… Which means I’m either making a very dashing escape from the Time Agency or there’s something entirely different going on here that is likely to confuse me more.”

“Very likely to confuse you more,” Jack confirmed, “these three travel with the Doctor.”

You blinked.

“Like, in her TARDIS?” You asked them, “Just… You three? Together?”

Other people didn’t just live in a time ship – especially in one as famous as the Doctor’s. Only family was meant to be on a person's ship for long periods of time. There were special circumstances, of course, it wasn’t forbidden to have others on a time ship.

But with the way those three humans were covered in Anton energy, it was clear to see that they had lived on a TARDIS.

The Doctor trusted these humans. That was very, very interesting.

“Up already?”

Your eyes went to the Doctor and you found yourself standing tall(er), not knowing how to act around her. The Master, of course, was still unknown, but the Doctor was… She was hated by the High Council, which naturally made her a hero of the people.

“Yeah,” you answered, still confused about what your own body was doing, “don’t think I like kidneys very much.”

There was a small smile pulling at the Doctor’s lips, “always the worst, the kidneys. Take forever to settle.”

You made a face at that, clueless of that fact, and then turned your eyes towards the person that had apparently caught you once again.

He opened his mouth, but you beat him to it.

“I’m not thanking you,” you said dryly, “you stressed me out so much you threw me into a coma.”

“Why your TARDIS thought to lock onto my time stream I will never know,” he told you, stepping closer, “I’ve brought you to the person that has all the answers. You’re welcome.”

He made to turn away, to walk out of your ship's doors to probably never return again, but you grabbed at his upper arm.

He tensed beneath your hold, head snapping towards you with a snarl on his face.

“Thank you, Master” you said, needing to say it, “I will always remember this.”

“We’ll be seeing each other again, no doubt,” he said back, still tense. Then, eyes glancing at the humans behind them… “Time always has a way of bringing all of us together.”

You haven’t heard Gallifreyan in nearly two hundred years. The words shocked you so much that you released his arm, your hand hovering awkwardly as you took in the meaning of the words, head tilting. He smirked at you, something that was more The Master than you expected, and looked over your shoulder.

“To our next meeting, dear.”

The Doctor smiled wide, all teeth, “looking forward to it.”

With that, he glanced one more time at you, head shaking… “Another Time Lord,” he muttered, “how… Ironic.”

Then, with the use of a Vortex Manipulator just outside the doors, he was gone.

With him gone, you felt entirely off-kilter. He was the one that saved you – that showed you how to regenerate, that quite literally caught you when you fainted, that brought you to someone that apparently knew about your people…

He was the first Time Lord you’d seen in one hundred years… You had been standing in two time ships, which you had less hope for finding than you did an actual Time Lord. 

In the midst of your thoughts, your eyes went to the strangers around you, contemplating, and decided that the best place to start was the one who the Master decided was the best to tell you “everything.” 

However, upon meeting her eyes…

The Doctor - the infamous Doctor of Gallifrey - stared at you, completely frozen.

The humans stood in the background of your home, unsure, and upon the Doctor seeing that, she stood just a bit taller and gave the quickest of glances at the human that had called himself both a captain and Jack Harkness.

“Well,” Captain Jack said, getting the hint, his voice ringing in the room as you continued to process everything that had occurred and then some, “Doctor, it’s been great, as always, but that’s my cue.”

“You’re leaving?” Ryan asked, “But-”

“I’ll take them back to the TARDIS - the Doctor’s TARDIS, sorry lovely,” Jack continued, glancing at you, “looks like you two need a moment. Besides, we were parked outside Yaz’s place.”

Parked? What did parked mean? Did he mean that the TARDIS was hovering in a specific set of coordinates? 

“Are you sure you’re alright, doc,” Graham asked, and the Professor’s mouth nearly fell open at such a question from a human. 

You knew your translation circuits were working - it was your most prized possession inside the ship right next to the ship itself - and yet you felt unbalanced by such… Such care these humans had.

Your eyes went to the Doctor, studying her reaction, and was surprised to see her so amenable to such a personal thing. 

“Just need a ‘mo,” she told them, then, eyes on looking around your ship, “Maybe a bit longer than that, sorry.”

She apologized?

You felt as if you’ve been dumped into a different dimension - twice. While the Master had saved you, he was what you had expected… For the most part. The murderous side was a bit harder to wrap your head around but, looking at the Doctor and cataloging the telepathic conversation that they had no doubt had, it seemed a bit more logical. 

“Well pop home then, yeah?” Yaz said, stopping your thoughts, “Pick us up later?”

“Excellent!” The Doctor said, smiling wide and nodding, then, smile dimming, “missed you all. Long time. It’s been a while.”

Yaz looked down, something unreadable on her face ( it took you that moment to realize how similar humans were to you. You had always liked earth but had never really lingered. Maybe… Maybe the Doctor found something in this species.)

“We’ll see you soon,” Ryan added for all of their benefit, breaking the tension, “come on, Yaz.”

“Nice meeting you,” The Captain shouted, halfway through the Doctor’s TARDIS, “Maybe we’ll meet again somewhere a little more quiet.”

Was he flirting with you?

“Jack!” The Doctor yelled back in exasperation.

“Only being myself, Doctor!” 

And then, with a quick wave from the rest of them, there were only two Time Lords on a ship put together with duct tape and glue. Although, peaking into her own ship and spotting the panels along the wall, maybe the Doctor was used to such a thing.

“So,” you said, leaning against your console, hoping it’ll bring you some strength, “Sorry about fainting… Before. All of this is - uh - really new. Really, really new.” 

"Sorry? No need to be sorry!" she said, sounding heartbroken. "It's okay now," she continued, her voice so soothing you strangely found yourself believing her. "It's a lot for anyone." 

"Every cell in your body, reordering, regenerating..." She was looking right at you, her serene presence unwavering, but she seemed to be remembering something, too. "There's this moment where you're sure you're about to die and then you're born. It's terrifying."

You thought about your own death - the certainty that it would be your end, the way your voice shook as you begged your ship to live out its day somewhere peaceful. Then, you thought about the flames that consumed your body, the Master’s hand the only lifeline to a sea of endless fire. 

The Doctor was staring at you with such worry that it was a wonder the Master was the way he was with you.You wondered how many times she had died - wondered if she had handled it better than yourself. 

Your thoughts felt off - sort of as if they weren’t your own, so new - and you forced yourself back into the present, making sure to give the Doctor a reassuring nod of your head.

She smiled warmly at you, and some of your anxiety instantly melted away. "It's over now," she said, looking at you with a mixture of emotions in her eyes that you were too tired to try to decipher.

"Big change! Being overwhelmed is expected." she continued, her voice so soothing that you strangely found yourself believing her. It was such a change from the Master - so commanding, so intense - and yet still so familiar to your home.

But, staring at her, there was something under the surface of her statement, a fear in her tone and in her eyes that you couldn't quite place. Your seconds of comfort immediately dissipated like they'd never existed. The Doctor had clearly sensed the shift in your energy, because her eyes immediately became an apology.

You wanted to say something, to let her know that you understood, even without words, but you felt yet another bout of pain, a striking red hot poker to the temple. Unwilling and unable to show weakness yet again, you clenched your fists around your console, gripping as tight as you can. 

"Are you alright?" she asked. Staring into her seemingly endlessly remorseful eyes, you immediately saw a soul that, despite only having just met you, seemed to somehow grasp the magnitude of your pain.

"It can be hard to remember anything for a little while after. Surprised you remember your own name, honestly. First thing that goes, for me. But, sincerely, Don't push yourself. You need to rest."

Her words were genuine, but you couldn't help but feel like she wanted some sort of answers from you. But she wasn't asking any questions. She was exuding compassion, but there was definitely an intense curiosity still lingering beneath the surface. You would have been more than happy to at least try to answer her questions. Why couldn't she just ask them?

Her calming voice interrupted your fuzzy thoughts. "The timing's never really quite right for me." A pause, then she continued. I always seem to find myself in some sort of immediate trouble. But you… You can rest. We'll watch over ya - the TARDIS and I - And the fam. We’re not going anywhere. We'll chat when you get up, all right?"

"We'll." The implied kindness of that word overwhelmed you in a way that you hadn't been prepared for. It had been a long time since you had people to talk to with familiarity and, despite your lingering anxiety, it seemed the Doctor was just as reluctant to let you go.

The exhaustion was starting to set in even further, yet another spike of pain at your temple, but you managed to get one last glimpse of the Doctor’s kind eyes before your body betrayed you and you felt yourself falling, once again, right into the Doctor’s arms. 

You really were meant to faint into the arms of every Time Lord you ever met.

----------

Your mind registered the Doctor's mental presence in the room before you even had thought to open your eyes. It had been a lingering existence with the Master - too focused on survival than the actual consequences of being so close to another Time Lord - and yet the Doctor’s mind blazed like a star, right there in its entirety. 

With relief, you realized that you must have started to heal enough to be able to sense where she was standing a few feet away. Close enough for you to feel her mind, but far enough away that she wouldn't scare you, you assumed. 

The infamous Doctor, so thoughtfully looking after you. Worry–no, fear–threaded through your very thin mental barriers. You did not know what your own mental shields were like - not after so long of being alone - and wondered if she too was sensitive to such a thing.

Becoming equally concerned for her and the worry you felt pounding all around you, you began to sit up, a groan leaving your lips as you did so. 

She instantly rushed to your side at the noise. "Don't sit up too quickly. I've made that mistake before. Nice and slow, all right?"

Your name. You knew it yesterday. Was there anything good about dying?

"Professor," the Doctor said, her arm extended out towards you in case you needed help. The tone in her voice hinted at the fact that she could tell that you'd forgotten your name. She'd wanted to reassure you that it was normal, you realized, without drawing more attention to it. "How are you feeling?"

“Good,” you answered, knowing it wasn’t the right answer but not wanting her to know, “How long…?” 

Time. You couldn’t feel time anymore.

It was such a simple thing - like breathing, or walking, or touch telepathy. Time was something that was drilled into your skull as a child - the very nature of Time Lords - and yet it felt lost between one breath and the next.

“Hey,” the Doctor said, no doubt picking up on your panic, “all Time Lords have different reactions to things, yeah? And from what the Master told me, you had a particularly violent regeneration.”

You could hardly hear her over the beat of your hearts in your ears. You thought the worst was over, that with the actual act of regeneration done, you’d be fine, but all you could feel was this wrongness in your bones, as if nothing belonged where it should. 

Had you messed up the process? 

“Regeneration sickness,” you asked, “it has to be. I didn’t think I held it off for so long, but I guess…”

“What are you feeling?”

You really wanted to stand and feel the sturdy ground beneath your feet, but you had a funny feeling that the Doctor would just convince you to stay in what was once again your medbay. Still, her question lingered in the air and, for a terrible moment, you wondered if she would judge you.

“I…” You swallowed, hating that yet another Time Lord was so much better than you, “I can’t feel time.”

The Doctor made a noise of discontent, “One of the worst ones. I told my fam that I was going to faint at the wrong time! I had just met them too - what an impression that must have made!” 

It was normal! A breath of air blew past your lips - either a sigh of relief or pure exhaustion, you weren’t sure - but at least it confirmed you didn’t entirely lose yourself in your death. 

“Dying hurts,” The Doctor muttered, repeating the Master’s earlier words, “I put off my first one for ages, pushing myself past a very important limit. Took ages to recover.” 

“I thought we weren’t supposed to talk about it? What regeneration feels like, I mean.”

The Doctor’s head tilted, eyes dimming, “never one for rules, me. Only way to learn about something is by asking questions.”

That… Was an excellent point. It was something you disliked about the Academy’s teachings. Your - their culture was surrounded by taboos and everything to do with being a Time Lord was Gallifrey’s best kept secret. 

You had preferred being as far away from the Academy walls as you could be, running through tall grass and beautiful silver trees. Your friends had always made fun of you for it, never really journeying out very far, but you preferred nature over sleek architecture. 

Your thoughts were scattered-brained and loud, almost overwhelming, and you didn’t even know where to start.

“Feel good enough to stand, then? Maybe get something to eat?” 

You were glad the situation shifted away from your own question. You weren’t entirely ready to fire off every single question you had, especially with the way your head still pounded.

You swung your legs around with more power than you needed, nearly bumping your knee into the small dresser next to you. Feeling a blush across your face, you quickly stood, proving to both the Doctor and yourself that you could stand without needing some sort of aid. 

“Nice TARDIS, by the way,” The Doctor said suddenly, “Very loyal. Can’t figure out what type it is, though.”

“You wouldn’t,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders in what you hoped was nonchalant, “I built her from scratch.”

The Doctor’s eyebrows nearly shot up to her forehead, but you weren’t ready for a conversation like that. You headed for the door instantly, knowing that she would follow you.

“No, no, hold on a minute,” she called, rushing to get in front of you, causing you to take a step back and bump into the doorframe.

“You built this TARDIS?”

You nodded, your hearts pounding, “on Skaro.” 

“On Skaro,” the Doctor said back with the same bland tone, “you built a TARDIS on Skaro. You were on Skaro. Sorry, when were you on Skaro?”

You tensed, the memories almost overwhelming. It wasn’t as if you didn’t linger on those awful times of pure survival, but it was the first time you had found someone who could possibly understand your journey. The Master was right, you had crawled your way out of the wreckage… And sometimes that was enough to send you into thoughts that wanted to consume you. 

There was something lingering in the air - no, in your mind. You could feel the Doctor holding herself back, her own apprehension about this new development on the forefront. You could feel her questions but couldn’t understand them. Instead, all that was left was this ridiculous level of care. 

Why would she care? Why would the Doctor, General of the Time War, right hand of Lord Rassilon, care about your lonely little story? 

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor whispered, causing more confusion at her seemingly never ending compassion, “The Master… He told me that you’re almost right from the Time War…”

“Twenty years since I escaped from Skaro, roughly speaking… By the time my ship and I made it off the planet, we couldn’t find Gallifrey…”

“Twenty years,” she muttered, nodding to herself, “so soon. But how is that possible? How-”

The Doctor froze - the pounding curiosity and compassion within their minimal mental link snapped, causing you to nearly trip on flat ground. It had been years without a single thought of a Time Lord or Lady and yet, despite the single day of having it back, it was already addicting. 

“You didn’t graduate from the Academy.”

It was said as a statement. Still, you found yourself nodding your head, just one centimeter up and down. Your mouth felt glued shut, your throat tight, and you wondered if this was the moment one of the only Time Lord’s in existence left you on your own once again.

“We didn’t get a chance - my class didn’t get a chance,” you said in a rush, trying to explain, practically begging her to understand, “they needed more soldiers and we were the closest to graduating. We only had a few things left to learn, I thought-”

“ Professor, ” she said firmly but, to your surprise, gently, “it’s alright, yeah? I’m not angry at you. You did nothing wrong. Do you understand?”

No. No, in your very soul, you felt as if you had messed up on something monumental. Your life was spiraling right here, right now, and for a cursed moment you thought that it would have been easier to just die on her TARDIS and save the universe the trouble.

“Professor,” the Doctor said again, taking a step away from you, looking properly worried, “hey, it’s alright. You’re on your TARDIS. The medbay door is just behind you. You with me?”

TARDIS. Your ship. You were on your TARDIS. Despite the Doctor’s mental quietness, you let the bond with your ship snap firmly into place in your mind, further opening the gate in your mind, allowing your ship a seat inside your head.

Your hands unclenched the fists you weren’t aware were clenched. The ship hummed in your head, calming you as they always did, and you felt your shoulders slump, suddenly exhausted. In all your dreams about finding another Time Lord, you had never imagined that a mental attack would get the best of you.

“Sorry,” you said, “Rassilon, I am so sorry. I-”

“Happened to me, after the war,” the Doctor interrupted, “nothing to be ashamed of. I could hardly think straight when I got back to my own ship. Speaking of, how about that meal we were talking about, yeah? Good cup of tea might help with everything.”

Tea? Tea. Tea sounded great. Anything sounded better than standing in this little hallway and admitting to a past you’ve spent the last couple of years blocking out. Without any more prompting, you began a steady walk to your trusty kitchen, unable to say anything else to the Doctor as you did so. 

“This is a beautiful ship, you know,” the Doctor said as you arrived in your modest kitchen, grabbing at the plain white tea cups you had technically stolen from one of your travels, “quite sturdy.”

Quite sturdy and quite meddlesome, if the larger than usual wooden table was anything to go by. Normally, it was a small, square thing set only for one, but the table now had eight seats in total. The kitchen itself was even bigger, allowing for its new addition, and it resembled what could only be described as human style living space from the fifties, color scheme and all.

“They are a good ship,” you said proudly, and, quickly laying a hand against their wall to thank them inconspicuously, “half of their casing was destroyed by a Dalek blaster, their heart almost pulled entirely into the vortex. Nearly didn’t make it.”

That was a dark day… You weren’t sure you were willing to talk about that the moment you met the Doctor, however… Even if it was the last thing you were ashamed of. 

Your ship warmed against the hand that was lingering on one of the cabinets and, with that, you finally found the cups. 

Kettle, kettle, kettle … Where was the stupid thing? You dug through the four cabinets, finding yourself wondering when the last time it was that you took the time to have tea, your thoughts traveling to ask yourself when was the last time you had tea with anyone, let alone with a Time Lord somehow more confusing than the Master.

The Master, at least, had intentions that were clear to see. The Doctor was someone that cared and, to you, that was scarier than anything the Master could have done to you. 

“A TARDIS’s heart can’t survive long without a casing,” the Doctor commented, “My TARDIS and me got into a bit of a mess a little while ago. She was forcibly ejected from her home and placed into a human body.”

“That’s amazing-,” Then, thinking more clearly about it as you finally found the kettle, “-ly horrible. The poor TARDIS. Must have been terrifying.” 

You sat down at your own table, offering the tray of tea with an awkward smile, wondering if any of this was acceptable. If you were on Gallifrey, even glancing at the Doctor in the wrong way was a social taboo that would leave you socially stunned for ages. 

The Doctor, noticing your discomfort, leaned back in her chair with her limbs splayed out, “Worked out, in the end. Even got to talk to her!” 

“Full sentences?” You asked, “through the telepathic circuits, I sometimes think I’m hearing a voice, but it’s more a bundle of feelings than anything else - feelings I can’t exactly understand, either.”

“Aren’t feelings the premise behind words?”

You had never thought about it like before. You were good at facts and figures - politics and people’s motivations - and yet at the very core of that stood complex emotions. Maybe your ship was communicating more than most people's.

You leaned back in your chair in your musings, only to slide down more than you thought. It was such a strange thing, to know with whole certainty where your body would land somewhere and for it to change so absolutely. You knew that your knees would hit the table if you raised them another inch but, when you tried, it took far too much effort to make any sense.

“Slightly shorter than your last regeneration?”

That was an excellent question, one you haven’t even considered. When you were looking for those tea cups, it hadn’t occurred to you that you were standing on your toes to reach them. That’s why everything was harder to find, you couldn’t see them where you expected them.

“That’s so strange,” you muttered, “must be only an inch or two.” 

“I’ve had an entire foot of difference, once,” she replied, “the TARDIS spent half her time moving things higher than I could reach.” 

A smile stretched across your face, imagining your own ship doing the same. Once or twice they had gotten truly angry at you and had left you with the brightest lights your eyes could stand without a headache. Moving things above your reach sounded exactly like something they would do.

Your thoughts strayed back towards the person in front of you, so confused by her presence and even more confused by the Master’s… Reaction to her. Out of all the Time Lords you have met, the Doctor seemed to be one of the kindest souls you had ever been forcibly dragged too.

“Why does the Master hate you?”

The Doctor’s face fell, her eyes flicking down to her mug. “The Master and I have a very long history.” 

That was the basis of Time Lord relationships, was it not? With their lifespan, even only having no regenerations meant their people were alive for roughly hundreds of years, if not a good thousand. 

It wasn’t your place to push. Going by the Doctor’s silence, this was a painful subject for her. Still, he was the one that saved you… It was hard to imagine that the person in front of you right now could anger anyone, let alone someone as strong willed as the Master.

“We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?” The Doctor asked, her voice soft, her own apprehension shining through.

You thought about it… Your life was your life, despite meeting the two Time Lords, and while it was nice to know that at least two of your people were alive - Time Lords, at that! - it was hard to imagine what was next.

You wouldn’t take the Doctor from her home… And you were quite unwilling to leave your own ship behind. In fact, it would take another army to get you to leave your ship. 

Your questions had to be done in meetings then… But meeting over tea to discuss the very long history of the Time Lords felt like more torture than you could handle. 

Not to mention, something else was burning inside of you. Despite the Master's less than ideal level of care, he saved you. It felt wrong to not have him here - to not have a single question answered by him - and you found that if and when the Doctor left, you were ready to go chase after the Master.

You must have lost your mind in your regeneration.

“You could travel with me, if you’d like.”

You nodded quickly, trying to show how much you appreciated the offer - knowing what it meant to her. You were a stranger, you knew that, but the two of you were connected in ways you could never be rid of. There was no way to describe to anyone the beauties and horrors of Gallifrey, let alone what had happened in the Time War. 

But damn yourself if you weren’t nervous to tell the Doctor you couldn’t. 

“I can’t leave my ship,” you said, meaning the word can’t, “I… They’re my home.”

The Doctor smiled kindly at you, “I wouldn’t ask you to. You said you built this TARDIS, yeah? Well, two Time Lords with knowledge of dimensional engineering and the skills to change them? Just a bit of a dimensional hole in my TARDIS and we can tether the two ships.”

It was as if you traveled right back to your days at the Academy, stuck in a classroom learning about anything and everything. The Doctor would be an excellent professor, you’d give her that, and possibly even one that you could have liked. 

“But the ships will be vulnerable to the time vortex,” you said with a bit of uncertainty, “especially with my shields.”

“So we’ll fix your shields,” the Doctor said, as if the job was as easy as a race on Yayla, “just need the proper parts. Brilliant engineering skills, by the way! That shield manifold is a piece of art, let me tell you! How’d you figure that one out?”

“Explosions. Lots and lots of explosions.”

The Doctor chuckled at that, “should have seen me the first time I had to repair the TARDIS. I’m still not entirely convinced I fixed the 8000s over by Wpolo III.” 

It was something else to hear about another Time Lord’s travels and understanding of the universe. There was no other species alive that had their level of knowledge - the secrets of the universe just casually sitting in their heads, ready to be used. Of course, that knowledge had saved you on Skaro, but it had doomed you to a life of loneliness as well.

Was that why the Master was so hateful? All their history together had blurred into bitterness rather than understanding?

You shook your head, trying to focus, “the humans… What are they to you? Would we all be on your TARDIS together.”

To your immense shock, the Doctor blushed.

The mythical legend, the renegade, Gallifrey’s most renowned Time Lord… Blushed.

“As much as I hate it,” she said, grabbing at the container of sugar you put out, “the Master calls my friends pets.” 

You made a face, “I don’t consider humans less, despite our - Gallifrey’s beliefs. I think… I think friends makes more sense. Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume anything! Just-”

“They’re good,” The Doctor replied, “Good people, my fam. I only allow the best in my TARDIS. I’m sure Yaz is about ready to knock down your doors and check up on the both of us.”

Your mind was spinning. 

There were so many options - so many things to do. They could simply just keep in touch… After all, now that you knew she existed and had a time ship, a communications device would work perfectly fine. However, traveling with the Doctor…? It was an experience she wouldn’t miss for the world.

“So,” you said, managing a weak smile, “how do we tether our ships?”

The Doctor smiled wide, something sparkling in her eyes… And you felt something like hope blossom in your chest.

Chapter Text

“So,” the Doctor asked, pointing to a random bit of scribbling she had put on the ridiculously old chalkboard, “we have two dimensions to keep as dimensions. We called it a tether before but I’m thinking more of a bridge.”

“What’s with the circles?”

Oh. 

You hadn’t realized it. Of course humans couldn’t read Gallifreyan. Why would the translation circuit bother translating their native language? Not to mention, if it could, their enemies could use their academic texts against them. The thought of the daleks having the ability to time travel was a horror you could not even imagine. 

But still… You would have attempted to write the simple math equation in human English if you had remembered.

“Sorry,” you said to all of them, getting up from the library couch, “not used to doing work like this in a different language.”

“Language,” Yaz asked, “Wait, the circles mean something?”

You turned to her, your head tilting, “Yes?”

“Thought it was a fancy design, I did!” Graham replied indignantly, “Who’d have thought all those circley bits were a language!”

That… Kind of hurt, actually. It was hard to imagine that your language had been no less than a cute design to put on furniture. If these humans had found something Gallifreyan out in the universe, they wouldn’t even regard it as important. 

You supposed that was the point… But it still brought a familiar ache in your chest. There were now three Time Lords in all of existence and yet you felt alone in your grief. 

The Doctor made a grab at the chalk before you could, wagging it at you dramatically and distracting you, “translating this would be a nightmare. Trust me, I nearly bored Einstein to death trying to explain interdimensional physics. Humans don’t have symbols or meanings for anything relating to time travel.”

She met Albert Einstein? How - what… Was that allowed? You had only traveled where time was the most flexible. She had spoken to a famous physicist? That was… Madness. It had to be madness!

“What, like, ever? We never figure out time travel?” Ryan asked, distracting you. 

Right, okay… Focus on the current present. 

“There’s the Time Agency,” you assured him, “the captain had a vortex manipulator.”

“Cheap and nasty time travel,” The Doctor muttered solemnly to you, looking absolutely disgusted, “come on, fam! We’re bending the rules of physics as we know it! Something like this hasn’t been done!”

“For good reason,” you said, grabbing at your own chalk, mulling it over, “the last Time Lord that attempted to try something like this split their atoms across multiple time streams, the two TARDIS’s flung so far into the past and future that it took a team four months to find them.”

“That’s the spirit!” The Doctor said as you studied the human’s slacked jaws, “being smarter than the Time Lords of old! Come on, Professor, show me what you got!”

Huh? 

You blinked stupidly as she gestured to the board, looking over the very start of your work. You had written out the formulas you had remembered from your studies as a young Time Lord, knowing that the Doctor would likely need them for when she figured out how she did this bridge. 

“Gotta start somewhere, eh?” She asked, smiling kindly at you, “how much energy will we need to begin the process?”

You rolled the chalk between your fingers, your hearts beating wildly. It felt like a test that wasn’t a test. The Doctor may be one of the nicest teachers you would ever have the pleasure of learning from but that didn’t take away the years of watchful eyes from your Academy professors. The Academy was harsh and…

You would leave the description there.

So, shaking just a tad more than you would like, you moved closer to the chalkboard, reminding yourself that it was a simple bit of math and no real danger.

“We’ll need the same amount of energy that a TARDIS gives off,” you said softly, writing out the equation that runs a TARDIS’s heart, “and for it to equal the space around the double TARDIS’s shields.”

“Exactly right,” The Doctor said, going towards the table where she had laid out various books, “I meant what I said about a bridge. If we can keep that amount of energy over a long period of time, there’s no risk of one TARDIS losing another in the vortex.” 

“They’re talking another language, they are,” Graham said, interrupting you, “like Star Trek !” 

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Ryan said to Yaz.

“Oh yeah,” Yaz replied, smirking, “lunch at our usual spot?”

It was a bit like being a time tot again, funny enough. You remembered feeling isolated as you were shoved into your classes, your peers already having groups of friends. Your family came from low town and you were chosen at random, unlike the aristocats you were forced in front of.

You were lonely for a long time until you could prove yourself. You earned your friends through your intelligence, which was almost insulting. Still, it was better than being alone.

These humans weren’t snotty but there was a history that was already there between the Doctor and themselves. You felt out of place, even next to the last Time Lord.

“Aw!” The Doctor complained, looking genuinely disappointed, “chips at Lenards? But-”

“Found a new spot, actually,” Yaz said, something just a bit forceful in her tone. You watched in confusion as the Doctor tensed, her eyes going to the rest of the humans. 

“Right,” The Doctor said, “Of course. Yeah… I’ll leave you to it, then?”

“Yeah,” Ryan answered, the same strange tone, “we’ll bring something back.”

Yaz turned to you suddenly, her hardened eyes softening, “good to see you on your feet, Professor.”

“Oh,” you said dumbly, “thank you. You’re leaving?”

It was… You had never heard of a group of Time Lords leaving the TARDIS with one person left behind. It was just - it was expected that everyone went together, no matter what, especially while traversing other planets.

But this wasn’t another planet for them, was it? This was home. The humans still had their own lives to get back to, to experience, and from one moment to the next you were looking at them a tad differently. 

You wondered if the Doctor felt the same, as if she was an arm’s distance away from the people she so lovingly called her family.

“Jack’s waiting for us,” Ryan said, as if that was a consolation prize, “he said he had to go back soon… Wherever that is.” 

The captain wasn’t a usual passenger? You could have sworn he was close to the Doctor, at least enough to give her a nickname. Stars, it was far too confusing. How did all of this work? 

Graham hesitated as the two younger humans moved to the doorway without another word. He looked genuinely apologetic as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Me and math have never mixed,” he laughed, “but I promised to be there for my grandson… And right now he’s hurting, doc. Give them both some time, yeah?”

What in Rassilon’s name was a grandson?

“Yeah,” the Doctor agreed instantly, “probably best. Gonna work on the TARDISes for a while.”

Graham glanced towards you, “it was nice meeting you. And up and about, eh? Seems nothing can bring you Time Lords down.” 

“Not much, at least,” you said awkwardly, “enjoy… Chips?”

Then, as if by a curse, all three humans were gone. 

You turned slowly to the Doctor, feeling off kilter yet again, but it was her lingering gaze upon the now closed door that kept you silent. You didn’t know her, only in the whispers of stories you had heard back home, and it made you realize just how strange it must have been for her as well. 

“I could go with them,” you asked her softly, “just to make sure they’re alright?”

But you didn’t really know what you were offering. You were the one on an alien planet with nearly no knowledge of it. The humans the Doctor trusted would have a better understanding if something was safe or not.

All you knew was that you didn’t like that the Doctor seemed so… So miserable, in a way you couldn’t put your finger on.

“Nah,” she said, turning back to the chalkboard with a note of excitement, as if them leaving hadn’t mattered in the slightest, “we’ve got work to do, don’t we? Come on then, let’s figure this out.”

You smiled back at her, feeling something in your chest that was undefinable.

Maybe later, after you figured out what she meant by bridge, you’d call it hope.

“Good, good! Steady!” 

“We should rethink this, Doctor! I mean, the energy required for this is just… There’s not even a safe way to test this theory!” 

“No, no we’ve got it! Come on, Professor, trust yourself.” 

Now you really felt like a Time Tot, watching nervously as the Doctor ran in circles around her console, twisting dials and pushing down levers… She was animated, not scared at all, while you stood behind her in some sort of terrified awe. 

Which was why you jumped at least ten feet in the air when the door to the Doctor’s TARDIS opened. You were ready for quite literally anything - what was it the humans said? Fight or flight - you weren’t really sure, but you found yourself backing up anyway, waiting.

Stupidly waiting, it seemed, as the humans walked calmly into the Doctor’s TARDIS, saying greetings and asking questions. Your heart rate was sky high, not used to beings that didn’t announce themselves before entering a home, but you were still new to this whole thing.

“Figured it out then?” Yaz asked, eyes lingering on the chalkboard that had made its way to the Doctor’s console room, “your equations got bigger.”

“Never linger on hypotheticals, Yaz,” the Doctor said, winking at you, “we were just about to try it. Oh, actually - fam, how about you follow the Professor to her TARDIS. We’re just about to start the connection.”

Were you? You were, apparently, taking a glance at the Doctor’s screen with less than a critical eye then you would like. You had watched her go over everything with a fine-tooth comb yourself - still in awe at it, how fast she had managed to puzzle through an entirely new science - and yet you had a very bad feeling.

Back home, back before the war, there would be dozens of Time Lords to ask. They thrived off of experimentation after all, loving the thrill of discovery. Your planet may be stupidly political with far too many rules, but it had valued discovery and knowledge. There would be no shortage of people who wanted to work on something like this.

Now? Now it was two Time Lords and a bunch of humans. You almost laughed.

“Professor?”

“Sorry,” you apologized immediately, “okay. Yes, I’ll start the sequence as soon as I’m aboard my ship.” 

The Doctor gave a… A… Uh, her hand formed a fist, but her thumb was fully extended, and she pointed said thumb up towards the sky…? You decided that you had dealt with enough strange things and took that for what it was - some sort of confirmation - and began a steady march outside of the Doctor’s TARDIS.

You hadn’t actually been outside yet, you realized, and you found yourself stopping just outside the Doctor’s TARDIS, taking in the sight before you.

Earth, wherever you were, was pretty! You don’t exactly know what you expected, having read their history and general intelligence level from Gallifreyan texts, but pretty wasn’t your first go-to. But, looking out over a field of green grass, a yellow sun high in the sky, the breeze in the air wafting the smells of the forest… It was easy to admire the beauty this simple planet provided.

“Alright, Professor?”

You hummed at Yaz, eyes still on the sky, taking in the view, “haven’t seen much of your planet,” you admitted, “and what I have hasn’t been this time period by any stretch of the means. It’s nice.”

“It’s just a hill,” Ryan said, “not much of a nature person.”

Your thoughts went to a hill just like this one, the colors of home mixing with the current scenery. You hadn’t been much of a nature lover either - addicted to your friends rather than the way your trees would sway in the breeze. It was funny what you missed when you no longer had it. 

You rolled your shoulders, a small smile on your face as your eyes found your ship, glad to see them as always. Without a word, you opened the doors to your home, eager to be inside once again. 

You glimpsed something on the inside of your ship, something different, and you found yourself stepping onto familiar yet completely different ground.

“I love you,” you said to your ship, mouth falling open as you looked over your new desktop, hardly daring to touch in case you ruined it, “I love you, I love you, I love you!”

Rather than the stark white walls that your ship had been for centuries, it had changed completely. In fact, you found your hands going to the console just to make sure it was your ship! But no, the ringing in your mind - the familiar buzz around your thoughts - confirmed that it was your beautiful ship that had done this complete metamorphosis.

Book shelves lined every inch of the wall, filled with the texts you had managed to find scattered among the universe. Thousands of black-iron lanterns with dimly glowing candles lit up every inch of your console room, hung steady by an immobile, vine-like chains of different lengths. The shelfs were lined with all types of flora, in fact, some of them you even recognized from back on Gallifrey.

The floor was all dark hardwood now, as well, with the console glowing the same hue of orange the candles provided. You spotted a winding staircase going to what you assumed was a loft and you squealed in joy like a child.

“You. Are. Amazing.” 

Because your ship was and, laughing, you raced towards the stairs, climbing up them nearly on all fours.

“Professor?”

Not even the Doctor entering your home could stop your exploration and, upon finding what exactly your ship had made for you, you squealed again. A beautiful deep red sofa with what could only be a tea dispenser had you putting a hand to the wall, showing your ship just how thankful you were.

You ran to the edge of the loft, looking down at the Doctor and her family, a smile nearly splitting your face in half.

“A loft, Doctor!” You said in pure excitement, “I love a book nook! And tea! They’ve given me access to all the tea I could ever want!” 

The Doctor was smiling, her hands going to her hips as she glanced around the room with you.

“It’s brilliant,” she said, “First desktop change, then?”

You spotted something a little to the left of your eyesight and realized bizarrely that it was some sort of pulley system from the loft down to the main level again.

Just before your hand could wrap around the rope to test the strength of it, you felt something in the air shift. A change that had the hair on the back of your neck standing up. Your hands tightened on the rails of what you were leaning against and, without realizing it, you had crouched down, waiting for anything to happen.

And, in what seemed to be this regeneration’s luck, you watched in shock as a familiar figure appeared next to the Doctor, looking quite ruffled and panicked as his eyes went left and right, looking for something.

The humans screamed loudly, running towards the doors of your ship, and you watched, terrified, as this new problem finally came into clear focus. It wasn’t a enemy, not really, but it was certainly a surprise to find him in your ship once again.

“I leave a brand new Time Lady with you for one moment,” he growled, pointing an accusing finger at an equally shocked Doctor, “and I’ve already felt a psychic-”

“ Master?” 

His head shot up towards you, his eyes going even wider at your words… At the words you had suddenly realized you had been saying the whole time.

“Sorry,” you said to the Time Lords, pushing yourself away from the railing to hide your face, “didn’t realize I was speaking…”

Gallifreyan. You hadn’t realized you were speaking Gallifreyan. No wonder the humans hadn’t said anything, it had probably been complete gibberish to them. The blush on your face could probably singe the flowers around you.

“Perfectly fine,” the Doctor called back cheerfully, “understandable, really. Always a shock to the system to see a TARDIS change.”

“At least the Professor has better tastes than you,” the Master said, and you could hear him walking around your home, making you nervous, “shocked it managed it so quickly with the shields the way they were.”

The shields.

This time there was no hesitation as you placed a foot inside the bit of rope that formed a circle and, knowing by instinct alone somehow, you easily made your way down to the console controls again. Falling had always been fun for you and you trusted your ship with your lives. 

“Oh, that’s badass.” Ryan said as you landed.

You smirked at Ryan, giving him a dramatic wink, “ lots of practice, I promise you. Maybe you can learn.” 

“You’re on,” Ryan replied, and you found yourself surprised at how easily you assumed Ryan would be back in your ship again. Maybe this was how the Doctor became so familiar with this species. 

“The shields,” you repeated, glancing at both the Doctor and the Master, “my ship really shouldn’t have had enough power to manage a desktop change.”

The Master rolled his eyes, “well, after I fixed that taped up version of a power converted you had on the floor, it may-”

You felt your jaw tense as you considered what he was implying, “you fixed my shields? Without my permission?”

It was a hell of a law to break - touching someone else’s ship - and despite how far away Gallifrey was, how destroyed their culture may be, you still put value in it. He had no right to fix your ship without asking you and, even if he had saved your life, you felt violated that he would dare to try such a thing. 

The Master looked anything other than worried about your rather dark tone, “your ship latched onto my timestream, child,” he said, and you felt yourself bristle at the dismissal, “it was my duty to ensure your safety.”

“Master,” the Doctor admonished, “now isn’t the time-”

You could feel a certain fury rising up within you. You actually had to turn your back to him, your hands going to the brand new dials and levers, distracting yourself.

He had saved you, you had to remind yourself. He had saved you.

But it was your home - it was built by your hands, held together with your mind, and you felt insulted that someone had dared to “fix” them without consulting you-without having the decency to even ask. 

Not to mention… Child? He called you a child, really? 

“Fine then,” you muttered, “Then as the creator of this ship, I demand you show me how you did it.”

You turned just in time to catch the look on the two Time Lords faces - the Doctor, mouth slightly ajar, looking shocked and the Master, utterly devoid of emotion as he considered your words. 

After all, you may have had no powerful titles or names on Gallifrey, but you knew its politics better than most. The Lord of Oakdown wouldn’t dare turn down a challenge like this one. And, being from house Oakdown, the Master had knowledge - knowledge that you would happily ask about if you had ever graduated from the Academy. 

Then, under your brutal anger, the Master laughed. He laughed so hard that he leaned his hands against his own knees, hunching in on himself.

“Come on, now,” The Doctor said to him, her own arms crossing at the Master’s ridiculous behavior, “she has a right to ask.”

“You know,” Yaz said all of a sudden, reminding all three of them that humans were on this ship, “I forget you’re aliens sometimes.”

“You’d think with a time machine, you’d remember, eh?” Graham added, “but you lot have your own customs and what-nots.”

The Doctor sighed, “it’s considered rude to touch-”

“Illegal,” you muttered, “highly illegal.”

“Illegal,” the Doctor corrected, nodding her head side to side as the Master scoffed, “to touch another’s TARDIS without permission. Even if it was a gesture of good faith that the Master intended to be…?”

“Yes,” The Master said strongly, looking at you as he said the word. Just for a laugh, you were tempted to throw up a rather rude gesture. Was that what this body liked? Being a rebel? 

“It was…” The Doctor glanced at you for the word.

“It was rude of you to do this without asking,” you told the Master, “even if it helped. Especially since I must have been in a healing coma at the time you did it, yes?”

The Master smirked - just the slight lifting of his lips, and you felt as if you were the child you claimed to be. It was frustrating to be so small against two giants and, for a moment, you found yourself wondering if the Master finding you was a curse rather than a gift. 

Even amongst your own people, you felt like an alien.

“ You remind me of my daughter,” The Master said quietly, in Gallifreyan, “stubborn as a mule and too eager to learn.”

How hard it must be to look upon someone like you and see another person entirely. You had known that the Doctor and the Master had children, maybe even nodded politely to their eldest in the Academy hallways, but it hadn’t clicked. You may have lost your friends and the people you considered family, but they had lost a child.

Your eyes went to the Doctor, only to find that her attention had gone to the shelves of your TARDIS, fingers trailing over the various titles as she very obviously tried to ignore them. 

You felt like doing the same… But you had never been a runner.

“Then teach me,” you said back to him, “two of the brightest Time Lords to ever leave the Academy? I could learn so much from the two of you.” 

The Master huffed, his eyes rolling, “I-”

“And,” you said, this time in earth English, hoping to diffuse the tension, “I’ll let you read the Time Lord texts I found scattered around the universe.”

The time, the Master’s laugh had nothing to do with his own actions, “I promise you, any texts you have found I have already known about from the Matrix. Besides-”

“Where in the world did you find volume twenty-three of the Engineer’s original journal?”

You had a very funny feeling that the Doctor was trying to help in her own way. You made a mental note to ask her about it later. 

“Hold on a minute,” She continued, now in actual disbelief, “ every volume?” 

The Master’s eyes widened dramatically at that little tibet. You felt your own shit-eating grin on your face.

“Show me what you did,” you repeated, “and my library is yours. I think that’s a pretty fair deal, yes?”

“Sorry, wait,” Yaz said, “are you seriously inviting him onto your TARDIS?”

You really, really had to figure out what the heck TARDIS stood for. It was getting ridiculous.

“Of course I am,” you told Yaz, “besides the illegal touching, I do owe him a life debt. I think.” 

“You do.”

You made a dramatic hand gesture towards him, as if to say, see, human, this makes sense. Yaz looked anything other than convinced by your little show. If anything, she looked worried.

“You know he tried to kill off the entire earth population a couple of months ago.”

“I stopped him!”

You blinked, processing that information at what felt like wasn’t enough time. Humans were… Well, humans weren’t Time Lords. You had told the Doctor that they weren’t less either and you believed that, but you could understand how someone like the Master could see them as, well, smaller than themselves. 

You remembered how he pushed into you after you had mentioned the Doctor. He was a terrifying creature, one that you would have avoided at all costs back home… Anyone on the High Council had scared you. But there was something about the Master’s heartfelt confession that reminded you he had lost even more than yourself.

That kind of understanding would never go away. 

“My opinion on apes is of little concern.”

You could feel a headache coming on.

“These humans travel with the Doctor,” you reasoned, “that must mean something about their character, yes?” 

The Master huffed out a laugh, but you cut off whatever he was going to say.

“Do not hurt a single soul on this ship - and no hurting humans, any humans, while you’re traveling with us… Agreed?”

“I haven’t agreed to share my knowledge with you, little one.”

“ And no calling me a child,” you added, just because it was probably your only chance too, and you were convinced he was going to say yes considering he had shown up here with still slightly ruffled clothing over your very loud, telepathic happiness. You had a funny feeling that, despite his very alarming personality, some part of him had liked you already. 

“You’re not invited on my TARDIS, just so we’re clear.”

You turned your head towards the Doctor, finding that she looked every bit of the Time Lady she was as she stood stone faced in front of the Master. She was somehow terrifying all of a sudden, the aura around her ancient and old, and you wondered how much it took for someone like her to be so… So weary of the Master.

You had questions resting on the top of your tongue… But not in front of the humans, and especially not in front of both of them.

“Crystal clear, my dear,” the Master said with a smile full of teeth, then, glancing at you with the same manic glee, “I accept… Teen.” 

You felt yourself roll your eyes. Of course he would already find a loophole.

At least the Doctor thought it was funny.

“You want to create a tether-”

“Bridge.”

“ Tether, the Professor’s word is better, believe me…   Between the two TARDISes by… What is this? Who did this math?”

“The Doctor!”

“Oi, I’m telling you right now that the Professor did everything to the right of this board and-”

“It’s to the left!”

“Eh, no way! Show me!”

You watched as the Master pointed out the Doctor’s now glaring mistake. It must have been fate that stopped them from trying it their first go around, otherwise you were fairly convinced both of your ships would have fallen into the void… Or worse. 

The Doctor made a noise of disagreement, “what are we, Time Tots? Look, here - if we use my equation, including a dash of dimensional physics because, obviously, it’s needed, we’ll…”

The Doctor continued her speech but your eyes drifted somewhere else. It had been exactly an hour and while it was unbelievable and awe inspiring to see two Time Lords rant and argue over theories, you had to admit other questions were on your mind.

Looking at the Master now, you almost couldn’t believe there was some sort of plot to destroy the earth. He was animated - limbs flying everywhere, eager to interrupt the two of them, even more eager to prove them both wrong… He was passionate, almost scary in his need to be better, but he didn’t seem evil. 

He saved you, you kept saying as a mantra… An evil man wouldn’t save anyone, let alone someone like you. 

You listened again as the Doctor physically grabbed the Master to bring him in front of a different board and, sighing, you realized you were simply too tired to follow their line of thinking.

By now, if you were alone, you’d be curled up with a book and talking mindlessly to your ship, taking the very barest of hints of home and ignoring the urge to go out into the universe. You still feared traveling - daleks weren’t the only monsters out there - and yet you craved it something fierce.

But going out was what killed you in the end. 

You shuddered, eyes going around your new desktop. The humans had gone up to the loft, happy to explore, and you were almost bitter that they had found a secret door before you had. In fact, thoughts running wild, you had a funny feeling it would take the both of them quite a while to notice you were missing…

As quietly and quickly as you could, you carefully snuck up the spiral staircase, a wicked smile of success on your face when they didn’t notice you leaving. It wasn’t that you were trying to be disrespectful, it was simply the allure of your home being entirely new that was too much.

It was truly spectacular, looking out over the handing lanterns. You realized now that the candles were actually very realistic holograms and you found yourself even more impressed with your ship. You stared at the elegant sofa, running a hand over the soft material. Without realizing it, you were sitting down on it, nearly moaning at the way you sunk into the comfy cushions. You realized very suddenly that besides fainting into a literal coma, you hadn’t actually stopped yet.

You regenerated. You hadn’t even properly looked in a mirror yet. In fact, you gripped your slightly longer hair, staring at the strands with a closer eye, realizing that the hue was slightly different than before - thicker as well, with curls that just wanted to happen at the ends of it. You hadn’t processed the change, not really, and you found the very idea of it exhausted. 

Your elbows went to your knees, rubbing at your new eyes. It was something else to hear two people bicker below you, as if the new change went hand-in-hand with an entirely new life… And while you didn’t hate that idea, you had a sudden, insane longing for the isolation of your life before. You weren’t good with normal people, not after the war, and yet… Yet the Time Lords down below weren’t normal, were they?

Your head hurt, something that was new as well. Without meaning to, you were leaning on your side on the very, very soft new sofa. In fact, the comfort of it made you smile, very much reminded of how while your ship may have changed, they’re personality hadn’t.

“Thank you,” you said to them, a hand trailing on the grated ground of the loft, “you’re too good to me.” 

Going by the low vibrating against your hand, your amazing ship had a mild disagreement. Still, that only made your lips twitch into a smile, glad to have something stay the same.

“Still you and me, eh?” you told them, “you, me, and every planet out there. Fair deal?”

With the ringing confidence of the ship buzzing happily in your mind, the two almost familiar voices of Time Lords of olds beneath you, and the sheer exhaustion you had, you had no choice but to close your eyes and fall into a deep sleep.