Wake up now, Doctor dear
Characters: The Master, the Doctor
Rating: PG-13
Time Period: Modern
Location: The Master's cottage in the woods
Relative Date: A day or so after the Master carried the Doctor off from Jack's room
Status: Closed - PM to join
The Master was getting worried. Twenty-four hours and sixteen minutes had passed since he'd laid the Doctor on his own bed in his cottage and there had been no sign of the Doctor waking up yet. There was no change whatsoever in his condition: he was still alive, still breathing steadily and perfectly healthy according to his scans. He just remained steadfastly unconscious.
And very, frightening, still. Not that the Master was expecting him to move a lot, anyway, since his wrists were tied to the bars at the head of the bed with black silk ties. What? He wasn't going to have the Doctor running off the minute he woke up! They had things to discuss. Not to mention feeding the Doctor up so he weighed more than a feather.
Drums throbbed in the Master's head (along with a fainter throbbing from the lump where Jack had hit him) as he stared down at the Doctor, weighing up his options. With a sigh, he sat heavily on the side of the bed, leaning over the Doctor and brushing the limp forelock back off his forehead. "Doctor," he whispered, frowning, not expecting any results. "Wake up, Doctor."
Rating: PG-13
Time Period: Modern
Location: The Master's cottage in the woods
Relative Date: A day or so after the Master carried the Doctor off from Jack's room
Status: Closed - PM to join
The Master was getting worried. Twenty-four hours and sixteen minutes had passed since he'd laid the Doctor on his own bed in his cottage and there had been no sign of the Doctor waking up yet. There was no change whatsoever in his condition: he was still alive, still breathing steadily and perfectly healthy according to his scans. He just remained steadfastly unconscious.
And very, frightening, still. Not that the Master was expecting him to move a lot, anyway, since his wrists were tied to the bars at the head of the bed with black silk ties. What? He wasn't going to have the Doctor running off the minute he woke up! They had things to discuss. Not to mention feeding the Doctor up so he weighed more than a feather.
Drums throbbed in the Master's head (along with a fainter throbbing from the lump where Jack had hit him) as he stared down at the Doctor, weighing up his options. With a sigh, he sat heavily on the side of the bed, leaning over the Doctor and brushing the limp forelock back off his forehead. "Doctor," he whispered, frowning, not expecting any results. "Wake up, Doctor."