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The Doctor was hanging by his wrists. His feet were unsupported, and he was sure that his wrists and shoulders were dislocated, sending shooting, aching pain through him.
He clenched his teeth to avoid whining, blinking his eyes open. He was tied up on a wall, wrists tied together by a chain hanging from the ceiling.
As expected, he was still in the same room he last remembered. The Master’s torture room. Or his ‘playroom’, as he often called it.
There were no sounds in the room besides The Doctor’s heavy breathing. No guards or any other people. In a way, that was a relief, but he knew that there were cameras covering every single inch of the room.
The Doctor groaned and twisted around, only succeeding in aggravating his injured shoulders. He breathed sharply through his teeth a few times, the sound eerily mimicking a sob. He would not cry.
The door swung open, drawing his attention. He stopped moving. The Master strolled in, flanked by guards. He grinned from ear to ear, seemingly excited about something.
“Hello, Doctor,” He said, standing just a few feet away from the Doctor. The Doctor said nothing. “How are you enjoying your new restraints?” Still no response. The Master sighed, linking his hands behind his back and beginning to pace slowly. “I know you’re a little bit angry with me, but you really need to lighten up. Let him down.”
The chains holding the Doctor up loosened, and he slowly fell towards the ground. The motion tugged painfully at his wrists and shoulders. He was left kneeling on the floor, still with his arms suspended above him.
“There we go,” The Master cooed, taking the Doctor’s chin in his hand. “Now you’re below me, where you belong.” He released the Doctor’s chin. “Now, your little friends haven’t been behaving as well as I had hoped they would. A mister 'Captain Jack’ specifically.” The Doctor flinched at the mention of his friend. “So, I’m going to teach him a lesson.”
“Don’t hurt him,” The Doctor growled, voice demanding. The Master chuckled, shaking his head with amusement.
“I’m not going to hurt him,” He turned back to his captive. “I’m going to hurt you.” The Doctor didn’t even twitch. “It’s obvious to anyone that he cares deeply for you. The best way to get to someone like that is through the person they care about. There’s cameras in every corner, feeding directly to a screen in the room he’s being kept in.”
The Doctor glanced at one of the cameras in the corner, keeping his face impassive. Before he could look back, the Master struck him harshly across the face with something made of metal.
The Doctor was forced to the side with the momentum of the swing, vision spinning and mind faltering. Blood pooled in his mouth, tasting of metal. He swallowed as best he could with a small gasp and righted himself.
The thing he had been hit with was a baseball bat.
“I know you,” The Master snarled, close to the Doctor’s ear. His breath was hot on the side of the Doctor’s face, and he shivered. “And I know it takes a lot to make you scream. Trust me, this won’t be over until you do.”
The Doctor glared up at the Master, feeling nothing but pity and sadness. They could have been so good together, traveling the stars. But here they were, in the same routine as always.
The Master took something from one of the guards and twisted it in his hands, observing.
“Do you know what this is?” He finally asked, waving the device in front of the Doctor’s face. “No? Well, it’s this nifty little human invention to herd animals.” The device sparked to life when the Master pressed a button, and a short line of crackling electricity, similar to that of a taser, shot across the two prongs at the top.
Without further ado, the Master jammed it into the Doctor’s exposed middle. Electricity lanced through his torso, causing him to jerk and spasm against his bonds. His wrists and shoulders jostled painfully, and he had to bite his tongue to keep quiet.
The Master kept the device pressed to the Doctor’s skin for several minutes, or at least it felt that way to the Doctor, before finally removing it. Even more blood had pooled in the Doctor’s mouth, too much to swallow without gagging, so he spit it onto the floor. He could feel the warmth of it running down his face, and it made him feel sick.
“That was stronger than I expected.” The Master said, curiously, looking at the device with surprise. “Lower him more.” The Doctor, who was still wheezing and reeling from the assault, was laid flat on his back on the floor. The Master, with no fanfare and only a brief look towards one of the cameras in the corner. He smiled, pulled out a knife, and swiftly jammed it into the space just below the Doctor’s ribs.
The Doctor jerked and gasped, more from the shock of it than the pain. This response did not satisfy the Master, whose face twisted angrily. He pulled the knife out, eliciting a strangled groan from the Time Lord beneath him. Then he stabbed the Doctor again, in the same spot but on the opposite side of his ribcage.
It was obvious the Doctor was struggling to keep himself composed, panting shortly and eyes squeezed shut in agony.
“Closer, closer,” the Master murmured, twisting the knife very slowly. “If I have to cut you like a fish, all the way across your abdomen, I will.” The Doctor gasped in pain, but did not reply. “Have it your way.”
“Please… stop…” The Doctor begged between harsh gasps for air.
“No,” the Master pulled the knife away and tossed it to the side. Warm blood rushed down the Doctor’s sides, pooling on the floor beneath him. He didn’t want Jack to see him break, he really, really didn’t, but the Master could kill him, and he wanted that even less.
When the Master plunged the knife into the Doctor’s dislocated right shoulder, he finally couldn’t hold back anymore.
He screamed, gutteraly, as though the sound was coming from the very depths of his soul. The sound broke off in the middle when he had to gasp for breath, and finally, blessedly, his eyes rolled back up into his head.