Chapter Text
"You were the one who said I'm not to set foot back here," the Doctor pointed out, reasonably, as they pulled into the secure underground car park.
Donna ignored him, although he clocked the flicker of an eyelid that said she'd heard.
"In fact, I think your exact words were that Kate wouldn't let me through the door if I turned up," he added, as they headed for the lift that would take them into UNIT proper. "'Arrest on sight', you said, for not having the right clearance anymore -"
"Oh, yes, alright. Don't get pedantic with me, I know what I said."
"Then what are we doing here?!" The lift doors opened and they stepped inside, the Doctor already turning restlessly in the confined space. He crossed his arms as he leaned against the back wall, then uncrossed them again just as fast with a purposeful loosen of his shoulders. "I'm supposed to be retired, as you delight in reminding me every few -"
"You are retired, and don't go getting any ideas to the contrary." Her voice dropped, like she was telling him a secret. "Look. This doesn't change anything. I'm in no way telling you to run off committing shenanigans again, but -"
"'Shenanigans', what -?!"
"But there is something I think you need to see."
The lift doors opened before he could ask anything else, sooner than he was expecting. He took a look at the buttons before stepping out, realising Donna had taken them down to the subterranean levels, rather than up to UNIT's headquarters as he'd assumed would be the destination.
"Does Kate even know I'm here?" he pried, as they set off down a long and rather featureless hall.
She gave him a significant look, and intrigue immediately prickled across the back of the Doctor's neck in answer.
"Oh! Am I not supposed to be here? Are you breaking rules?"
"Go on, say it louder. Don't think all the men with guns quite heard you."
The armed men in question met them midway along the corridor, indeed toting more weaponry than the Doctor thought was strictly necessary to keep a long stretch of hallway under control. They checked Donna's ID badge and nodded her past. Then it was the Doctor's turn - and one of the soldiers performed a startled little double-take upon recognising him.
"Sir," he greeted automatically, getting halfway through a salute before he caught himself.
The Doctor held up a hand and wiggled his fingers. "Hello."
Both soldiers exchanged a glance, obviously unsure how to proceed.
The Doctor raised his eyebrows, looking over at Donna. "Oh, you really weren't kidding when you said my access has been revoked, were you?"
She rolled her eyes, impatient with the whole performance. "He's with me," she instructed, already reaching to pull him through.
"Wait!" one of the soldiers protested, then wavered as she glared at him. "He'll... Uh, that is, neither of you can take through any weapons. If you're carrying projectiles, blades, or - or any sonic devices, leave them here."
"Don't worry," the Doctor called back as Donna tugged him along. "She made me leave it at home!"
They continued on. The Doctor shoved his hands into his empty pockets, rolled his shoulders back with an uneasy feeling. "Bit of a different reception than I'm used to," he admitted at length.
She slid him a look. "Miss the fawning, do you?"
"No," he retorted quickly, voice emerging a bit higher than intended. "Just new. That's all."
"Well, not like they can have two Presidents of the Earth, is it?" she teased, clearly enjoying herself more than was called for. "You're the retired one."
He wrinkled his nose. The Retired One. Somewhat less of a ring to it than The Oncoming Storm.
They came to a thick metal door at the end of the corridor, and Donna stepped forward to swipe her badge and then type in a seven-digit code into the nearby keypad. The Doctor watched as several metal deadbolts snapped back in a concentric pattern to allow the door to open. He raised a curious eyebrow, deciding that they definitely weren't here just to get him out of the house for the afternoon. The room beyond was dark and lit by computer screens. It had the pristine smell of temparature-controlled, filtered airflow, and a quality of sound that told him the walls were just as reinforced as that door had been. A few disgruntled scientists looked up from their screens as he stepped inside.
And, from where she stood in the centre of the room, Kate Lethbridge Stewart frowned at them both in wordless question.
"Sorry," Donna lied blithely, jabbing a thumb in his direction. "Couldn't stop him."
To the Doctor's discerning ear, she didn't put much effort into the fib. Nevertheless, it commited them. Which rather left it to him to finish figuring out what she was trying to show him.
"Doctor," Kate greeted belatedly, doing a bad job of hiding how startled she was. "What a surprise, is everything -?"
He strode forward and caught her in a hug. "Kate! How long has it been? Two months? Six? Tell you what, much easier to lose track of time when you're not flying through it." He let her go with a squeeze and stepped smoothly past, reaching into his coat for his glasses. A computer screen had caught his interest. "What's all this?"
There were biological readings on display, for something or someone clearly not human. He didn't get much further than that, because the screen abruptly flicked off.
The Doctor blinked, looking first at the sheepish scientist who'd done it, then back at Kate, who'd clearly given the unspoken order. Around the room, all the other screens were being turned off one by one, hiding whatever information they'd been displaying.
Kate flustered somewhat, trying for a smile. "I'm sorry. This is awkward, but I'm afraid a lot of the information in this room is of the highest possible security, and you - well, you no longer -"
"Have clearance," he finished drily. The reminder was quickly becoming salt to his wounded ego. "I've heard."
"I'm sure you understand." She gestured helplessly, then made as if to step toward the door leading out of the room. "But if you want to come upstairs, we can -"
Standing near her, Donna's gaze flicked imperceptably towards something on the other side of the room. Her miming skills have really improved, he thought absently, already making a dart towards the point of interest.
"Doctor -!"
There was a small square of glass in one of the walls. It looked to be inches thick and had been treated with a reinforced coating, just like everything else in here. The Doctor peered through.
On the other side of the glass was a dim, cramped room immediately recognisable as a prison cell. It was nearly featureless, with bare metal walls, stone floor, and two plain strip-lights overhead for illumination. Within the perimeters of the room a cage had been installed, which was just wide enough to contain a bare pallet bed. The single prisoner within was currently lying atop it with his legs crossed at the ankles and his fingers laced atop his stomach. He -
The Doctor froze.
Kate reached him and took tight hold of his arm, trying to pull him away. He shook her off without looking, refusing to be moved as he stared through the glass.
"That's..."
"Doctor, please. I really must ask you to leave. If you have questions, we can talk through -"
He turned to fix her with an incredulous, unhappy stare. "Oh, I have so many questions you wouldn't believe, but let's start with the easiest. Why do you have the Master locked in a UNIT prison?"
He looked again, hardly able to believe what he was seeing. Because this wasn't the Master he'd dealt with in recent times. This was a regeneration he hadn't seen in years - centuries, even, depending on how you counted. A bit worse for wear, admittedly, but otherwise perfectly unchanged. He even had on the same black coat the Doctor had last seen him wearing, high collar pulled snug against the chill of his cell. He lay with his eyes closed, no doubt determined to ignore the presence of his UNIT observers, and so hadn't yet noticed the Doctor where he stood looking in.
"You know yourself how dangerous he is," Kate hissed defensively. "What else were we supposed to do?"
The Doctor rounded on her. "You tell me. You call me, and I deal with him. How did he even get here?"
She shrugged slightly. "The Toymaker's restraints finally failed, as we'd been anticipating, and he was released a few days ago."
"Restraints...?" The Doctor squinted at her shrewdly. "You kept his tooth?"
She glanced aside. "For good reason, evidently."
"Right. Okay. Fine." He pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a fortifying breath. "Just - open this thing. I need to get in there, I need to talk to him."
"No, you don't."
He'd already returned to the view through the glass when the words registered. He looked back in surprise, tilting his head down so he could peer at her over the top of his glasses. "Sorry - what?"
She drew herself up straighter. "I have a responsibility to defend this planet, Doctor, with or without your input. And believe it or not, I'm good at my job. The Master is a threat, and he's been neutralised. There's nothing else here you need to be concerned with."
He let out a sharp breath of disbelief. "I hardly know where to start with that. Wait, yes I do." He held up one finger to begin counting off. "Firstly, it's certainly my concern that you're holding a Time Lord prisoner. And, as far as I can tell from your widgets and your scanning, you're not just holding him - you're studying him. Big concern, that is. Don't like that."
She looked away, like he'd caught her doing something shameful.
"Secondly - yes, he is an unbelievable threat, and if you think you're in any way equipped to keep him safely locked in there, then you're so, so wrong."
At that, she regained some of her haughty pride, matching him with a little scoff. "Aside from being seventy feet underground, that cell is made with steel and stone. Soundproof, impenatrable, and with a matricite inlay that prevents telepathic connection. Multiple guards, with no pattern of rotation, and no set routine. He's got no access to sonic or laser devices - or anything else for that matter. In fact, while we're at it, I can assure you that the whole building is more secure than the last time we tried to hold him. I assure you, Doctor, we learned our lesson."
The Doctor groaned, reaching up to scrub at his face with exhausted frustration. "You learned?! What do you think he's doing?!" He gestured helplessly through the glass, at where the Master lay calmly atop his plain bedding, seemingly asleep. "That Master is younger. Apparently the only reason the future version of him could stroll out of here so easily is because you already let him stick around getting a good long look at all of your security measures."
Kate blinked. She flicked a quick glance towards the glass window. "That's not..." Then she shook her head, rallying her confidence. "There's nothing he could have learned from being in there. We've been careful."
The Doctor spluttered. "Oh, well, long as you've been careful." Irritated and out of patience, he swept a look around the other workers in the room. "Somebody open this right now."
No one moved.
He turned in a circle, making eye contact with those brave enough to look directly at him. Still, none made a move to obey. Donna watched with sympathy.
"Kate -" He whirled back towards her, stepping in close to try and convey just how serious he was being. "I will not let you do something this reckless and stupid, trying to keep him here -"
It was the wrong approach. Her eyes flashed as her own temper rose. "You don't have to let me do anything, Doctor. It's already done."
"But -" He stopped himself, not even sure what he'd been about to say. He could see from her face she didn't intend to listen to him. Nor, apparently, did anyone else in the room. He'd retired his authority, he realised, along with everything else. As a last resort, his hand dipped into the pocket where he kept his sonic - only to find it empty. The device was at home, sitting on a shelf in his living room. His fingers closed on nothing, curling tight.
"You should go," Kate said again, and this time her tone left no room for polite debate.
Donna stepped further into the room, reaching for him. "Doctor," she said gently, a note of apology in her voice.
He looked again through the glass, to where the Master lay oblivious to his presence. Close and unreachable. The Doctor's heartsbeat raced in his chest, although he couldn't have said with what emotion if he'd tried. Panic, maybe. Outrage at being denied. Bizarre, guilty excitement to see a face he'd thought long gone.
"You're making a mistake," he whispered to Kate, and then brushed past her as he left.
"I shouldn't have brought you," Donna mused regretfully as they drove home. "I knew I shouldn't have brought you. I even said to myself, 'Donna, he's retired. Doesn't need to be worrying about things like this.' Still..." She tilted her head, clicked her tongue thoughtfully. "Figured you'd want to know. Another Time Lord, and all."
"I did. I do," the Doctor admitted, eyes on the passenger side window. He was brooding. He knew he was brooding. Not much he could do to shake the mood, though. It had been a long time since he'd been made to feel quite that powerless.
"Who is he, anyway?"
He half-smiled, reminded of her propensity to miss out on significant events in human history. "A friend," he said distractedly, before he caught himself. "Well, no. Sort of. Used to be. He, uh -" The Doctor shifted self-consciously in his chair, tugging his seatbelt looser. "He tried to take over Earth a couple of times, to be honest. Remember that Prime Minister, Harold Saxon? That was him."
"You're friends with the PM?!"
He turned to squint at her. "Donna, n- That's not -"
"Well! The things you find out about a person..."
They went quiet again until Donna parked the car in the drive. It was drizzling warm May rain, and the Doctor frowned out at the wet front garden. His front garden, which was still a dubious novelty he hadn't entirely made peace with. Owning a garden. Owning a house, even, and a car - all of which bought with a bank account in his name. Well. Alright, in the name of a Dr John Smith, but still.
He really was well and truly retired.
"You okay?" Donna asked, looking across at him as she turned the engine off. "I'm sorry it didn't go the way you wanted."
"Not your fault." Donna had only done what she always did: decided to look out for him, not thinking about the risk to herself in how patently obvious it would be that she'd ignored Kate's wishes in order to bring him there.
"Are you okay, though? You look... I dunno. Off."
"Not the day I was expecting."
"Your friend back there -"
The Doctor held up a hand. "No, no, hang on - I didn't - He's not - He's not my -" But he cut himself off with a defeated sigh, realising he was protesting with a bit too much enthusiasm. "...What about him?"
"Just so I'm clear, really. Are you upset because he's really that dangerous and you're worried - or because he's locked up in there at all?"
He didn't look at her, unwilling to subject himself to her insightful scrutiny, or glimpse the expression she might be wearing. Instead he kept his eyes on the window, watching a particularly determined magpie pick through the flowerbed.
"I don't know."
After a moment, she reached across and squeezed his arm.
Then, just as quickly, she thwapped him on the shoulder. "Right, come on, stop sulking. I'm starving, and it's your turn to cook." She got out of the car, only to lean down and level a glare through the open door. "Earth food, this time. I don't care what Rose asks for."
He followed with another half-smile at the memory of Sylvia's scandalised horror.
His house, technically, but it was Donna and her family who'd made it home. They'd been staying here while they waited for insurance assessors to decide what would be paid out for the original Temple-Noble household, sadly destroyed amidst alien warfare. He'd been vaguely tickled to learn that London insurance companies allowed for a unique claim-type titled 'Non-Terrestrial Destruction or Damage', a financial initiative originally sponsored by UNIT. The Doctor wasn't sure when or if they'd ever heard back on any insurance payments. He hadn't ever brought it up, afraid it would somehow hasten their departure. No, he was rather happy with this new status quo, and the little human family he'd gathered round himself.
Unlocking the front door, he stepped through into the pleasant mild chaos that had become his daily norm.
"Don't let the cat out!" Shaun called faintly from another room.
Rose was skipping quickly down the stairs, already changed out of her school uniform. "Mrs Phillips didn't like your theory about faster-than-light travel," she informed him as she breezed past.
"Well, what does Mrs Phillips know?" he grumbled, following after her toward the living room.
Donna elbowed him. "The answers to her GCSE exams, for one thing, so don't go messing her about."
Wilf was set up in his favourite armchair, piled high with blankets, and with the TV blaring far too loudly in deference to his utter conviction he did not need hearing aids, thank you very much. As Rose passed, she dropped an affectionate kiss atop his head. The Doctor took great delight in copying her exactly, grinning and darting away as Wilf batted at him in exasperation.
The smell of lasagne and garlic bread drifted through the house, emmanating from the warmly lit kitchen where Sylvia and Shaun were setting out plates.
"Oi!" Donna protested, coming up beside him. "It's supposed to be his turn!"
Sylvia proferred a stern finger. "Oh no. Not having food from Saturn again, my stomach's never been the same since."
"It wasn't... It was't from Saturn..." he protested faintly, already well aware it was a defence that fell on deaf ears.
Shaun offered a sympathetic shrug. "I liked it, mate."
The Doctor waved him off, u-turning back into the living room. Behind him, Donna and her mother had already descended into familiar bickering about household chores. Rose was following her dad around the kitchen, trying to show him something on her phone she wanted him to buy. Wilf, too, appeared to be safely absorbed in a documentary about tanks.
Unnoticed, the Doctor took his sonic screwdriver from the bookshelf, and headed for the back door.
It was raining in earnest now, and he pulled his coat tighter as he made his way across the muddy lawn. The TARDIS was nestled against the garden fence, half-hidden in the creeping ivy that had reached through from next door. He plucked a few of the longer vines from above the doorway.
"Going to have to be quick about this," he warned the ship, patting her blue panelling in solidarity before stepping inside.
The control room lit up slowly, like the TARDIS was waking from her sleepy doze. He shrugged off his coat, throwing it over one of the walkway railings in passing. Approaching the control panel, he took a last moment to debate the wisom of what he was considering. Or lack thereof, more accurately. This wasn't among his better ideas, he was almost sure. But it was something he had to do. He had a... responsibility, of sorts. Multiple responsibilities, really, whether he was retired or not. Kate didn't understand the disaster she was courting. Nor, for that matter, appreciate the offence in keeping a Time Lord to observe like some science experiment. That simply wasn't something he could permit. And as for the Master - well.
The Master had always been his business to worry about, one way or another.
"Ready?" he asked aloud, not sure if he was addressing the TARDIS or himself.
Without waiting to receive an answer either way, he released the time rotar handbreak, and braced as the ship launched itself into the Vortex.
It was a fancy bit of flying, if he did say so himself. Took concentration. Took skill. Took one foot propped up on the console to hold down the materialisation circuit while he strained and stretched across the control panel and steered the TARDIS into the precise confines of an underground prison cell.
He had the ship materialise around the cage itself - again, a feat of precise calculation he rather wished someone was present to witness, if only to appreciate his cleverness. Leaning spreadeagle across the console as he held control of the ship's precarious flight path, the Doctor craned his neck upwards to see the compact cube of metal bars slowly appear atop one of the interior walkways. The bed, with the Master snoozing atop it, remained safely inside.
"Oh well done!" he praised the TARDIS, releasing the materialisation circuit so he could stagger upright and steer them out of the confined space.
Not yet entirely de-materialised, the ship promptly slammed into the still-fading walls of reality and went tumbling arse-over-teakettle into the Vortex.
Inside his cage, unready, the Master went pitching off the pallet bed.
The Doctor winced at the sounds of undignified collision. "Oops," he whispered to the TARDIS.
Ship steadied, he stepped back from the control panel, suddenly hesitant in his last moment of unwitnessed privacy. He glanced down at himself, keenly aware of his own rumpled appearance. He tugged fussily at his waistcoat, doing up a button or two. No tie, these days, his concession to Donna's insistence that he didn't need to dress in uniform anymore. So instead he adjusted his collar, swiped through his hair - and moved to approach the cage.
The Master was just picking himself up off the floor, one hand pressed to the back of his head. He groaned, kneeling upright and squinting out through the bars, seemingly dazzled by the white brightness of the TARDIS interior. Then he peered upwards as the Doctor got near - and his expression dropped like a stone.
"Oh, not you."
The Doctor shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, balancing briefly on the sides of his trainers as he looked down at his feet. "Nice to see you too."
The Master snarled in annoyance as he stood up. "What bloody timeline did I land in? Thought I'd already moved on from the -" He gestured tiredly at the Doctor's whole self. "- pinstriped version."
"Ah." The Doctor realised immediately the mistake that had been made. "You did, actually. This is the, uh, tartan version, I suppose. Roughly about..." He paused, glancing ceilingward as he tried to count it up. "Two thousand years, four regenerations, and a few TARDISes later." He shrugged, gesturing vaguely at his face. "I'm just... revisiting a favourite."
The Master stared at him for a few long seconds. "You can't be serious."
He gave a flat smile, not really knowing what else to say.
It won him a short, derisive laugh. "I always knew you were vain, but this is reaching new heights." The Master stepped up to the bars, grinning wide and sharp. "Go on then, what kind of midlife crisis is this? Reliving the glory days? Please tell me you didn't come looking for me just to play prop in whatever sad little re-enactment you're - Did you say two thousand?"
"Give or take a... a couple of centuries, yeah."
The Master blinked, deterred even from his contempt.
"And I didn't come looking for you, actually," the Doctor added, deciding to take advantage of the momentary silence to get a word in. "I happened on your predicament and decided to do you a favour - more fool me."
"A favour?" the Master sneered. "Come off it, you must be loving this."
"This scintilating company? Yeah, I can see it's going to be a right laugh a minute."
"Right, well, put us both out of our misery and let me out." The Master bounced his palm off the bars, standing back in impatient expectation. "I certainly wouldn't want to impose on your generosity any further."
The Doctor said nothing, biting back the retort that sprang into his mouth. Even now, after all this time, it was still too easy to backslide into indulgent vitriol. He remembered this verion of the Master so clearly. Everything in him burning molten, always bright with passion and rage and genius, equally fickle in his charm and his cruelty.
One of them had to keep control.
"In a minute," he said. "I need to tell you some things first."
The Master flashed his teeth in scorn. "Taking the term 'captive audience' a bit literally, aren't you?"
"Should have tried it ages ago..." he muttered to himself. Then, bracing, he stood tall and tried to summon what dignity still remained to him. "I only picked you up because -" Wrong start, he realised promptly, stumbling over the explanation. Because what? Because he'd gotten himself in a moral snit about UNIT imprisoning another Time Lord? Because his pride had been bruised? Because he'd taken one look at the Master and - and missed him?
None of which acceptable to voice aloud.
"Better you here with me than hurting someone trying to get out on your own."
"I'm sure the underlings are ever grateful."
"But you need to understand that things have changed," the Doctor soldiered on, trying to decide how he could possibly make this as clear as he needed it to be. "This isn't going to be some grand fight between us."
"You're giving yourself too much credit -"
"No, listen." He stepped forward, right up to the bars of the cage, as though he could convey exactly how important this was through sheer proximity. "I can't do that again. I'm not interested. I'm tired and I've - stopped running."
The Master flicked a glance down over him, amber eyes flat with derision. "You got old."
"Extremely," the Doctor admitted without qualm.
They glared at each other.
Then the Master stepped closer to his side of the bars, curling his fingers around the metal. He was suddenly near enough that the Doctor caught the faint smell of his clothes, smoke and blood and Missy's perfume. The sense-memory was almost enough to stagger him. He clenched his teeth, trying to get control of the deep ache that throbbed somewhere between his hearts.
"Then enjoy your dotage," the Master whispered to him. "And I'll be on my way."
It would definitely be easier, to let him go. Smarter, too, probably. The Doctor had already done what he'd intended, which was only to remove the Master from UNIT's research lab. There was no reason to prolong the visit.
Well. Not quite true.
There were only selfish reasons to prolong the visit.
"The way I see it, you've got two choices," the Doctor said finally.
"Do tell."
"I'll drop you off somewhere, if that's what you want. It'll have to be somewhere I know you can't do much damage - my conscience couldn't take it. Sure you understand."
The Master levelled him with an unimpressed stare, waiting for the punchline.
"Cassopoeia 4, maybe? Around 32,040? Don't think it'll be colonised for another two centuries, mind, so it should be nice and peaceful for you. You can even keep this, if you like." He patted the side of the cage fondly.
He was being mean. Enjoying himself a little too much, being in the position of power for once. The Master had always been able to bring out his baser instincts.
"I assume you're about to offer me a shiny alternative to mind-numbing exile...?"
The Doctor inclined his head.
"Well. You could... stay here. With me."
It took a second or two for the Master to react - and then he guffawed as though thoroughly tickled by the offer. "You must be joking."
"No."
"Why would I do that?" Smile lingering, the Master shook his head in disbelief. "Why would you?"
The Doctor thought again of Missy. Thought of the Vault, and the moment he'd let her step aboard his TARDIS. They'd done it before. They'd managed, for a time.
"There'd be conditions," he went on, determined to at least finish making the offer.
"Such as?!"
He dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a flat, heavy cuff, holding it up between them for examination.
"Stole this the last time I broke out of prison," he explained, ignoring the Master's immediate narrow-eyed look of surprise. "Or, well. Walked out with it, anyway. Semantics."
"What is it?"
"Darminium cuff, with a psychic-relay element that can be triggered when the wearer thinks about - well. About anything you don't want them thinking about, I suppose. New meaning to 'thought crime'."
The Master's lip curled. "You're not putting me in a shock-collar."
"I wouldn't abuse it," the Doctor promised earnestly. It was a bizarre reassurance to try and give. "I don't care what you think about, for the most part. Only that you're not... intending to hurt anyone." He hitched a shoulder, weighing the cuff in his palm. "That's the only setting, honestly."
"How generous," the Master murmured, eyeing it like the Doctor was offering him a viper.
"Oh, wait. For, uh, full disclosure. There'd be a... spacial limit, on it. It won't let you leave the TARDIS."
"A tethered shock-collar," the Master amended drily.
The Doctor glanced away, embarrassed despite himself. There was extremity in what he was asking, he was well aware. He was attempting to impose control, knowing the Master would fight him every step of the way, twist beneath it trying to get free. Not likely to be pleasant for either of them, he imagined. In another time, another life, he might have taken more risk; confident in the belief he could meet the Master on equal footing, or at least face the consequences of trying.
But he had a family now. He had Donna and Rose and Wilf to think about.
If he wanted to keep the Master here too, they deserved whatever protections he could offer.
"For how long?"
The Doctor blinked. "What?"
The other Time Lord inclined his head towards the cuff, still held out in offering. "How long do you think you can keep me in that thing?"
He hadn't really expected to get this far in the negotiation, if he was being honest. The Doctor considered, knowing he had to tread carefully. "A year."
"A year by what calendar?"
Damn. There went his backup plan. "Earth's."
"Of course." Despite the Master's habitual scorn, there was a shadow of curiosity on him. "Why? What exactly do you think is going to happen in a year?"
A year was nothing, to them. Not really. Gone in the blink of an eye, no terrible inconvenience.
The Doctor hitched a shoulder. "You could take a break."
The Master stared at him, momentarily struck silent. "...A break?" he repeated, like he wasn't quite sure he'd understood the word.
"Yeah. You know. Rest."
It sounded stupid, spoken out loud. Nevertheless, the Doctor kept his expression neutral, awaiting an answer.
"I don't need to rest," the Master said faintly, breathing a laugh.
The Doctor tilted his head, disagreeing. But he knew better than to say as much.
"It's only a year. What have you got to lose?"
"My mind, I'd think, before I willingly step into whatever trap you're trying to set up here."
"It's not -"
"Exile," the Master decided, with a defiant lift of his chin. "I'm choosing exile."
The Doctor nodded, trying to conceal the pang of disappointment that went through him. He wasn't truly surprised, even if the confirmation stung. Stupid, really.
"Fine."
He returned to the control panel, busying himself setting the destination exactly as promised. He'd leave enough supplies that the Master would survive, though he might have to stay bored for a good long while. Better by far than some other options the Doctor could have given.
"What happened anyway?" he asked over his shoulder as he worked.
"With what?"
"The Toymaker." Coordinates set, he turned back towards the Master's cage. "Heard you tried to play his game. I thought you were smarter than that."
The Master's expression went blank with the first real indication of shock, as though he hadn't banked at all on the Doctor knowing that detail.
"I didn't have a choice," he snapped finally. "It was that or -" But he stopped dead, so abruptly he seemed to choke on the syllables, throat working to swallow them back down.
The Doctor narrowed his eyes. "You've regenerated before without resorting to desperate measures."
"Not like that," the Master hissed, fingers curling tight on the bars. "It wasn't fair."
Bemused by the sudden furious intensity, the Doctor cast his memory back. "Last I saw, you were away with Missy. What happened?"
"Like you don't know," the Master spat.
He shrugged. "Never saw either of you after that, until today."
Again the Master's expression faltered, like he'd been expecting something wholly different.
"Is that where you've just come from?" the Doctor probed cautiously, remembering the familiar battlefield scent that still lingered on him. "The colony ship? Is that why -?"
"Stop." The snarl broke from the Master, voiced through gritted teeth.
The Doctor faltered, and reluctantly bit back the questions that wanted to spill out. They were treading in dangerous territory, even if he didn't quite understand why. "Fine," he conceded warily, giving up the attempt at conversation.
The TARDIS landed at their destination with a shudder. The Doctor turned off the engines, crossing the room to throw open the blue doors. A chill, clean wind moved through the ship. They'd landed on a rocky beach, grey sea and sky stretching out as far as he could see. It would do.
"You're really going to leave me here?" the Master demanded, hint of a whine in his voice like he hadn't believed the Doctor would truly do it until now. He gripped the bars of his cage, craning his neck as he tried to see out through the open door. "It's barren. What am I supposed to do for two hundred years? Count pebbles?!"
The Doctor looked again at the bleak landscape, tilting his head as he tried to see the best in it. "I don't know. You could take up sculpting, I suppose." He squinted out at the far-distant cliffs. "Or cave painting?"
The other Time Lord narrowed his eyes. "You think you're clever."
The Doctor smiled benevolently. "I think I'll be enjoying warm showers and hot food for the next two centuries. You're a braver man than I am."
"Oh fuck off." Infuriated, the Master stuck his fingers through the bars of his cage, wiggling them impatiently. "Give me the bloody cuff."
The Doctor stepped back out into the rainy garden, for once making the effort to close and lock the TARDIS behind himself. No reason to tempt disaster by leaving it open.
He turned around - and almost collided with Donna.
"Where did you just go?"
"Nowhere," he answered, nearly before she'd finished asking the question.
They watched each other for a moment, in standoff.
Her attention flicked past him. "Who's in that TARDIS?"
"Nobody."
Donna moved to sidestep round him, so he stepped with her, keeping himself safely between her and the ship.
"...You didn't," she muttered, voice growled low in her throat with incredulity. "Tell me you didn't do what I think you just did."
"Depends," he said evasively. "What do you think I did?"
"Idiot," she announced, bluntly, bringing her hands up in exasperation. "What am I supposed to tell Kate when she asks where -?"
"You tell her nothing," he suggested victoriously, "because you know nothing!"
"Oh, yeah, clearly!"
"No, we just..." He wavered, glancing back at the TARDIS and making a vaguely warding gesture at her. "We just keep it that way."
"But!" Voice shrill, she didn't seem to know quite what she wanted to protest first. "You can't just -"
He hushed her, frantically pinching his fingers together to stop her saying the words. "No no no, it's fine! It's completely fine!"
"What if he -?!"
"He won't!"
She smacked his hands down. "You said he was dangerous!"
"He -" Well, yeah, no denying that one. "It's under control," he said instead. "I wouldn't lie to you about that."
Donna glared murder at the door of the TARDIS. "But you've just left him in there, what if... I don't know, he flies off somewhere?"
At that, the Doctor scoffed. "Donna. I live with a teenager and your mother - who, as an aside, was in there last week polishing the console with Dettol 2-in-1. The first thing I did was bio-lock the controls. No one can fly it but me. Promise."
She relented somewhat, although she still didn't look happy. "So you're just... what? Keeping him, now?"
The Doctor winced, baring his teeth awkwardly as he considered how to phrase it. "Would... would 'rehabilitating' sound better or worse...?"
Donna jerked her head back, closing her eyes. She held up her hands like she could call a halt to his nonsense. "Right. Okay. No. That's... That's another insane conversation for another time. Right now, I just need to know that none of this -" She circled her hands, encompassing the Doctor and the TARDIS and the situation within it. "- puts Rose in any danger."
"Donna, you have my word," he said immediately, meaning it. "I would never let anything happen to her."
She nodded, businesslike, and flicked another uncertain glare at the TARDIS. Half-turning back towards the house, she pointed a stern finger towards him. "Right, well, just let him know you'll both be dealing with me if it did."
The Doctor smiled tightly, dipping his head to show he understood.
Oh yeah. This was going perfectly.