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The hum of the TARDIS could only quell the Doctor’s nerves for so long. There he was, gripping the railing tightly after a very stress-inducing excursion. He didn’t understand why he found himself in the flight area, the TARDIS held so much more just right down the corridor, a left, down two doors… The Doctor took a sharp breath as he steeled himself, leg shaking as thoughts occupied his mind.
The Master was in here, somewhere, having sauntered off after the two had gotten back in. To the Doctor, the others’ presence felt as easy as breathing. Like knowing someone was there, and not necessarily feeling as though he needed to go and check up on them every moment. The Master had agreed to come, for just some short moment, and that was enough for the Doctor. All he had ever wanted was for the Master to come with him. And now he was here, walking around the TARDIS and making himself feel at home. That knowledge alone, however, wasn’t enough to curb the Doctor’s anxiety.
Something he couldn’t place, something he wished he was able to, ground him like a ship docking at shore. His hair didn’t feel right, and his eyes ached from having to be so much as used in this very moment. The Doctor pushed himself off of the railing and started down the hall, footwork knowing the floor plan like clockwork, as if his ship was whispering to him and telling him where to head to.
The Doctor found himself in his bedroom, that of which he rarely used. He had no reason to, other than the occasional moment when there was nothing else to do, that, or the times when his companion would want some time alone. In a way, this was like his bunker. A complete safe space for him, where he could hole himself up whenever he pleased. Especially at times like these.
He knew that the thing he had faced was something that was able to get under his skin, able to mentally injure him in the way that creature had on Midnight. This was like that thing, leaving the Doctor unable to stitch words together, unable to keep his knees from giving out.
He found himself a coward, on the floor pushed back against the corner of the room, the cold wall feeling comforting and overwhelming all at once. He found himself unable to stop his knees from drawing up to his chin, his head ducking in-between them just to feel some semblance of normalcy.
The Doctor craved more than just curling up. He craved weight and silence and the need to scratch at something impossible to scratch at ate at him in his core. His blunt fingernails dug into his skin over his pants, the fabric feeling all too itchy aside from his coat. He mindlessly reasoned that the coat barely touched his skin, but that was beside the point now.
Hearing footsteps, the Time Lord could really only hope that the Master wouldn’t peer in, wouldn’t make some sickening jab that would only make things worse. He wanted to be left alone, unseen from any living breathing thing in the entire universe. But the stars weren’t ever that kind to him, were they?
The Doctor listened as they drew closer, peeking out over his knees just enough to stare directly at tattered sneakers that had stopped right in front of him. Great . He felt himself let out a shaky breath, awaiting the other’s words, but none came. Carefully, he looked up, squinting at the harsh light the bedroom gave to look at the Masters’ face.
This was one of the rare times that he saw the other have no clue how to handle a situation. Always a plan, or a joke, or some remark, or mania to go alongside it all. But in the quiet hum of the TARDIS, he didn’t speak. The Master looked down at the Doctor with a look of confusion, and maybe a hint of pity.
It made the Doctor want to scream, burying his head in his knees once more. He listened as the footsteps walked around, a switch clicking into place, then rustling. He really didn’t know what was happening, nor did he want to face the bright light again to find out. But he didn’t need to, feeling a blanket be draped over his shoulders, and the sound of someone sitting beside him.
“I can leave you be,” spoke the Master, and the other could only imagine that he was offering glances to him, somehow deep down worried that he wouldn’t ever be the same. The Doctor shook his head, a silent plea for the other to stay, not knowing why his company may just be the exception.
“I don’t know why I feel… Like this ,” the Doctor could only muster up those words, grabbing at the blanket to tighten it further around himself.
The Master didn’t respond to the Doctor for some time, instead opting in on casting a look at the other man instead. Maybe he was thinking about how vulnerable the Doctor was, or maybe he was taking pity due to how small he looked. All curled up, barely able to form a complete sentence.
It seemed like pity took over, which in all honesty, the Doctor didn’t argue.
“What do I do to help?” Asked the Master, turning his head away to stare at the floor instead.
“I’m not sure. I’ve always dealt with this alone,” the brunette replied with a shaky sigh, making the effort to bring his head out from his knees, propping his chin up on one. The light was off, which brought some comfort to him. He turned his head to look at the Master, taking note of his fidgeting hands and the way his eyes danced across the room, as if the floor would tell him what to do.
“It’s been years of this, I can promise you that I’m fine,” he found himself comforting the Master instead, which he didn’t seem to like all too well.
The Master opened and shut his mouth a few times, then shook his head, blinking out whatever sentence he almost had said. “You just need help, I think.”
That statement made the Doctor laugh. Something about the tone made the other seem so unsure that he did, the way he tried to pick his words so carefully, it tickled him to the bone. The Master didn’t find it as such, furrowing his brows as he watched the man laugh with his own jaw slack.
“Why are you laughing at me?” The words came out like venom, defences on the rise.
“I’m not, I’m not… Sorry,” The Doctor breathed, looking up at him with his large eyes. “I do need help, I think, that’s why I laughed. And the stupidity of it all… Sometimes when I get like this I can’t help but think I’m losing my mind.”
“You’re not,” the Master replied pointedly, slowly standing up. He reached a hand out to the Doctor. “If you are, then we both are.”
“Oh please, you’ve already lost yours,” the Doctor remarked, hesitating before he took hold of the other’s hand.
There it was, that shocked and upset face that seemed to melt the Doctor, even though it wasn’t supposed to. He still hauled him up from the ground, the blanket still wrapped around the man like a hug.
“Now what?”
Those two words snapped the Master out of whatever he had wanted to say, instead letting the Doctor have his jab. One of those rare occurrences where he looked enough like a kicked puppy to get away with a small taunt.
“Right,” the Master looked around, then pointed downwards to the bed. “Lay.”
“How straightforward,” The Doctor didn’t fight, though, as he clambered onto the bed. Shoes and all, not fully thinking straight quite yet due to his brain still trying to exit the meltdown mode it was stuck in.
The Master sat on the edge, looking too nervous to do anything else. “Do you want to get yourself comfortable?”
The Doctor, now laying on his back staring straight up at the ceiling, gave a shrug before pulling the blanket tighter, covering his eyes once more. He listened to the Master sigh worriedly, scooting closer to the man.
He felt hands on his shoes, untying the laces carefully, hands moving back and forth on the man’s calf occasionally. The touch felt of fire, making the Doctor feel hot. Was this his way of showing pity? It confused the man, yet he said nothing. The Master continued, slipping his shoes off one at a time with as much care as his trembling hands could muster up.
“Better?” The voice above the Doctor lingered, and all he could do in reply was nod.
“And do… you want me to stay?”
Another nod.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you shut up for this long,” the Master eased himself down onto the bed, laying straight as a board beside the man. “I think you’re having a meltdown.”
“I think I know,” the Doctor got out, voice not holding the heat it usually had when the two bickered. He couldn’t find it in himself to bicker, or to hold any argument. Thankfully, the Master didn’t take the bait, more he understood that the Doctor only replied from habit .
“Oh, you know what I mean,” the other shook his head, looking over at the man’s blanket-covered face. “I know you get like… this.”
It was as though addressing the situation, the feeling, head on was too much for either of them to bear. The topic was hot to the touch, the words felt sick on their tongues. The way they both had the knowledge of what this was all too well. The fact that they grew up together, and the Master had always seen the Doctor’s meltdowns as children.
“Did you think I had grown out of it?” The Doctor asked, something sharp in his words that he himself couldn’t pinpoint. The Master inhaled sharply, staring so hard at the other he wished he was drilling holes into the blanket.
“No. You know best that I haven’t, either.” The blonde replied, looking up at the ceiling just to look elsewhere.
“Well,” said the Doctor pointedly, “that makes two of us.”
The two lied in silence for some time, the hum of the TARDIS soothing them both in some way. Eventually, the Doctor carefully removed the blanket from his face and turned to face the other.
“I don’t think your meltdowns make you any less,” he whispered, watching patiently as the other looked over at him.
“I don’t believe it makes you any less, either, Theta.” The Master told him, grinning widely. Something soft came over the Doctor at the name, and he gingerly nodded as he tucked the blanket under his chin, matching his smile all the while.
“Why don’t we sleep?” Asked the Master, carefully turning to face the other as he kicked his shoes off, no care for where they’d gone.
“Mmh, sure,” the Doctor replied warmly, shutting his eyes. “As if we really need it.”
“Not lying when I think that you do.”
A laugh escaped them both, something soft shared between the two after so many years of hardship and anger that had lied between them. Of course, the history was still there, but it was slowly being forgiven by the two, bit by bit and little by little.
Maybe, just maybe, things would turn out alright for the each of them. Falling asleep rather quickly, that’s what the Doctor was hoping for.