Fic: The Broken Key (3/4)
Title: The Broken Key (3/4)
Author: shinyopals
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Rose/Ten II
Summary: Trapped and imprisoned, with no hope of rescue from Torchwood, the Doctor and Rose are forced to go to desperate lengths to save each other and the universe from a deadly enemy who's been watching them for a long time.
Author's notes: Thanks to ginamak for beta reading and various others for encouragement!
Episode 19 and the finale of of a virtual series at the_altverse, following Clocksleepers last week.
Virtual Series Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2
The corridors were mercifully quiet as Rose hurried back through them. Once or twice she had to duck into a room to avoid hypnotised guards, but their patrolling was not particularly thorough. Whatever they might have been like normally, the trance-like state they were in rendered them little more than automatons.
Her feet automatically led her back the way she’d come. Instead of going back into the large room where the Doctor was captive, however, she veered off down the corridor to the right. She was so close to him. Every little noise she heard from her left was turned into a gun shot or a shout of pain by her treacherous imagination. Wanting nothing more than to rush back in there just to make sure she could see him one last time, she forced herself to keep moving forward and further away from the door. If she went back, everything would be lost. She needed a plan first.
Rose picked her way along the corridors until she found a tiny, disused room - more of a cupboard, really - that shared a wall with the room in which the Master held the Doctor captive. She could just see outlines of pipes and electrical boxes on the walls from the light that shone through the door.
For lack of anything else to do, she quickly began to search. If there was a second way into the room with the Doctor and the Master, she might use that to her advantage.
The concrete was smooth beneath her fingertips and she sighed. It had been a long shot, but where did it leave her?
Under her feet, the floor creaked.
Rose froze where she was standing. The pipes attached to the wall continued to drip. No sound of rushing feet suddenly appeared.
She shifted her weight again, this time intentionally. Another creak. Solid concrete shouldn’t creak like that.
Jumping back, she pulled her keys out of her pocket. The tiny, LED torch was all she had at the moment, but it revealed the edges of a trap door. For a moment, she just stared at the door, before a little voice in her mind pointed out how little time she had left. Certainly no time for dithering.
She reached down and felt along, finding the catch. The mechanism made a loud ‘clunk’ that echoed down the corridor and made her wince. The door gave, though, and allowed itself to be pulled upwards and open. The tiny beam from her torch revealed a metal ladder and nothing else. She glanced down the corridor one last time, half hoping some magical solution to everything would jump out at her.
Then, for lack of any other ideas, she scrambled into the hole and down the ladder. Perhaps there’d be a way back up into the main room. If she could just get close enough to the Master, she might be able to beat him. She might not, of course, but she was running out of options.
At least her plan, however rubbish, meant she’d get to see the Doctor before they both died.
The ladder came out into a tiny, nearly pitch black room. With the help of her torch and her fingertips, she felt around the walls until she found a lump in the cool material. The catch to the door was stiff and cold in her hands, but it slowly slid into place and the wall started to move.
A sliver of brightness appeared, so Rose pocketed her keys and braced herself for action, squinting as the light hit her eyes.
The room revealed itself to be empty of people, and she breathed a soft sigh of relief. She didn’t, however, miss the fact that on the opposite side of the room was a proper set of stairs leading up. If her senses were telling her right, they were leading up into the main room where she’d left the Doctor and the Master.
Carefully, she edged forwards. The stairs were grubby metal, but they looked secure and stable. At the top was a metal door and a keypad next to it. It looked sturdy and pretty close to soundproof, so wherever it led, she was safe from detection for now. She thought she could get through it, though. Now she needed a weapon. It might be possible to get a gun from one of the guards, but it was risky: the only way to distract them distracted her too.
Turning around, she began to properly inspect the basement room she’d found herself in. It appeared as though the door she’d just walked through could slide back into place and camouflage itself. It was impossible to tell whether the secret entrance had been due to the previous owner or due to the Master himself. Was he aware there was a back way in?
The rest of the room was filled from floor to ceiling with computers and tubing and circuits, looking as thought it was held together by string and sticky-tape. It reminded her both of the TARDIS console - how she had been in the old universe - and of some of Rose’s work at Torchwood. This room had grown organically as technology had been added to it. It was definitely the Master’s work. Even allowing for Torchwood technology, it was too advanced for a human.
Moving forward to inspect a wire rack with what looked like pieces of coloured hose-pipe attached to it, Rose was suddenly caught up short by a familiar shape in the corner of her eye. She whirled to face the bookcase. On the top shelf was a beautiful wooden and brass marine chronometer, elaborately connected, through a telegraph machine, to various computers.
She knew that system. She’d seen it a thousand times. She’d helped build it and rebuild it and argue over components and connections and programming until every tiny detail was permanently etched in her brain.
The Master had stolen the dimension cannon.
Not the original, of course. She’d seen enough of that in Torchwood earlier - had it really been only a few hours ago? - but he’d taken the blueprints or hypnotised one of the scientists or something. How he’d got it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that it was here and he’d tied it into his system. Now that she thought about it, it was an obvious choice. To fix a key to travel between the universes, there was no better equipment on this planet. But hadn’t he thought...?
Taking a deep breath, she shut her eyes, trying to subdue the flood of excitement and stop her hands from shaking. She didn’t have the time to make mistakes through over-confidence.
He’d stolen technology she understood inside out, barely making any changes. How thick was he?
She leaned forward and sat down to fire up one of the computers.
Not thick, she reminded herself. Clever, and dangerously so. She looked along the familiar design, each tiny change from her own project sticking out like a sore thumb. Sometimes she still dreamt about working frantically on the cannon, waking up in a panic before she found the Doctor’s solid presence beside her. Even her own subconscious in the most ridiculous of dreams could recall every screw and every wire.
He was using it to channel power. At one end, cables and wires and a bit of purple hosepipe led out of the room and up into the main room. That would connect to the key, somehow? She supposed so, anyway. His aim was to fix the key, so he’d be channelling the power into that. But where was the power coming from?
She chewed on her lip as she hesitated again. She knew this machinery, but would sabotaging it be enough? If she couldn’t trace where the power was coming from, she might still rip the universe apart.
As she thought, her eyes fell on a small security station. Could she...?
She jumped to her feet and dashed over to look through the feeds to the security cameras. The Master had wired up half the building and from here he could watch over his domain. She found a picture of the wide room that she recognised and switched to that camera.
The view was of a couple of armed guards by the door. They were very still - only the time in the bottom corner changed. The camera was static, too, not giving her the view of the Doctor she craved.
She found the speakers and switched them on.
“... now?” came then Doctor’s voice. Relief flooded Rose. He didn’t sound happy, but he did sound alive.
“Now we wait,” came the gleeful response from the Master. “The Clocksleepers finale will be coming to a climax in no time at all. Then the fun really starts.”
Rose started, then rolled her eyes at herself. The power was coming from Clocksleepers, of course! She kept forgetting the stupid show when she wasn’t wishing she could be watching it. He was good. But still, how could a TV show rip apart the worlds?
Did that matter, though? However it was going to work, she couldn’t stop the show from here. The BBC television centre was too far away, and who knew if that would stop it worldwide? Usually a phone call from Torchwood would be enough, but with the power this show had?
“I can’t stop it,” she murmured to herself, feeling the bleakness of defeat settle around her. She didn’t even think the Master could stop it now, not everywhere. The universe was going to collapse because of a television show and there was nothing she could do.
And if the Master fed the energy through the key in just the wrong way, theirs wouldn’t be the only universe to implode.
She screwed her eyes shut. There was still some hope: if she could work out what he was doing she could sabotage this Dimension Cannon. One wrong move, though, and everything would end.
“How’s that going to work, anyway?” asked the Doctor. It was some small comfort to know he was as confused as she was. “I get the hypnosis - that’s your usual. But how does this help you fix the key?”
“Oh, but that’s where the real genius is!” began the Master. “And really, I only have you to thank!”
“How?” The Doctor’s voice was crisp and irritated.
“Did you think I was separating our beloved Captain Jed and Isabelle into different universes just for your benefit?” he replied. Rose could hear his smirk and gritted her teeth. “Well, I suppose the chance to echo your life was an unexpected bonus. But oh no, that’s all part of the plan. The power of words and not weapons. We are switching places, aren’t we?”
“What do you mean by that?” The Doctor sounded apprehensive now, his tone putting Rose even further on edge.
“If six billion people thinking the word ‘Doctor’ with the help of fifteen satellites can give you those abilities, what can six billion people desperately wanting the universes to rip apart so their beloved TV show characters can get back together, all with the help of every television set and satellite dish and cable in the world do?”
There was silence. Rose’s blood ran cold. All that power, from all those people. Even cutting through a few wires wouldn’t be enough to break the connections. The power would have to go somewhere. Stopping the show was the only way. And stopping the show was impossible.
“Master, you can’t,” said the Doctor now, this time pleading again. “Listen to me! This will shatter this entire universe.”
“Then we’ll go home!” said the Master viciously. “And if it destroys there too, we can move on again! The last two in any universe. How about it?”
A noise behind Rose distracted her. Out of habit, she jumped sideways and ducked as she turned. That habit probably saved her life, as a bullet flew past her ear, crashing into the computer and breaking the screen.
Her eyes took in the two guards automatically as she flung herself to the floor behind one of the desks.
There she lay silently for a moment, checking for injuries and listening for movement. She was fine, and they stayed by the door. The hypnosis made them slow, but it wouldn’t slow down their bullets. In this tight space, she’d have no chance if she made a run for it.
Footsteps moved forward. An even, balanced tread with no hesitation. The hold on his mind was strong, and she doubted anything would give him cause for concern over shooting an unarmed innocent.
A quick glance around her revealed no serviceable weapons. She balled her fists, listening to his footsteps.
One... two... he was on top of her now, staring down. Not giving him a chance to think about shooting, she launched herself forwards, propelling her entire body weight onto the bottom of his legs. Like a great tree, he began to topple, kicking her accidentally as he did so. She grunted in pain, winded by her effort. His own slowed reflexes had made him fall without bracing himself and he seemed to be at very least stunned.
Reaching back, she made to grab the gun, but some part of his brain remained and he kept a tight hold on that.
She whirled back around, remembering the second guard, only to find herself facing down the barrel of a gun.
In the silence, her swallow seemed unnaturally loud.
The guard was looking down on her with the same blankness she’d grown used to. Except... he was hesitating. Some tiny part of his brain seemed to be realising he was holding a gun right to someone’s face with his finger on the trigger. She held still, too afraid to move or talk but sure she had to do something to save herself. Her heart thumping in her chest seemed sure to be loud enough to make him shoot.
His eyes suddenly went even blanker. For one hopeless, horrified moment, she thought she’d lost and he was going to shoot. Then his body crumpled.
Behind him, stood Isabelle (or should that be Anna?), holding one of the other guard’s guns by the barrel. She’d thumped him around the head with the butt of her weapon. Jed stood behind her, looking torn between being appalled and impressed. Rose stared up at her rescuers stupidly for a moment, before Isabelle took the weapon properly and levelled it at something over Rose’s shoulder. The barrel wobbled a bit too much for something pointed so close to Rose’s head, but she bit her lip and didn’t mention it.
The other guard was still conscious, but might as well not have been. Rose scrambled aside and gestured for Jed to help her drag them to the side and handcuff them with their own cuffs.
“Thanks,” she said breathlessly.
“‘S what we do,” said Isabelle. “I suppose so, anyway.”
Rose hesitated before speaking again. “Are you...?” she trailed off awkwardly. There was no nice way to ask if the two of them were over their identity crises yet.
“I’m Isabelle,” she said. “And I think I’m Anna too.” She dropped the gun onto one of the tables, making Rose wince. “I don’t know anything else,” she admitted. “It all feels so real, still.”
“It’s as real as you want it to be,” said Rose. “The Master can put lines in your mouth, but he doesn’t get people. He has to hypnotise the world to get them to cry.”
Isabelle smiled softly as she glanced at Jed. “Maybe,” she said.
“Can we help?” asked Jed. He’d removed his outer layer and the dark purple shirt he was wearing was far more low-key than any of the rest of his clothes. That, coupled with with his quietness and the uncertain way he kept looking at Isabelle, suggested he wasn’t nearly so secure in his non-identity as she was. Rose tried to smile encouragingly at him.
She turned back to the room at large and surveyed it. The clock was ticking. Soon, everything was going to fall apart, and it was up to the three of them to do something.
Then she realised, with a shock, she knew exactly what they needed to do. Somehow, in between dodging bullets and reassuring fictional people, it had all fallen neatly into place.
She grinned and turned back to Jed and Isabelle.
“Yes, you can help,” she said, unable to stop herself from smiling. “Now come on, we’ve got about ten minutes!”
~*~
The Doctor stared up at the Master, part of him thinking that now, at least, he had to wake up. This had to all be a big, cruel dream.
“So, where do you want to go first, faithful companion?” asked the Master with a leer. “I think our universe will still be waiting for us.”
“Not if you or the other Time Lords had anything to do with it,” replied the Doctor dully.
“Just think of the adventures we’ll have!” added the Master cheerfully. “I might even let you save a life every so often if you’re good. The odd butterfly. Maybe even a kitten.” He paused as though considering. “Although that might be a bit too far.”
“I think living here has driven you even more barmy,” said the Doctor, shaking his head.
“No Time Lord can live for long in an out-of-sync world,” snapped the Master. “I’m doing you a favour.”
The Doctor vaguely recalled when he’d first landed in this world with Rose and Mickey. He’d been convinced they were in some no-place because it was so silent in his mind. No TARDIS, nothing outside. Parallel London hadn’t eased that feeling, despite being surrounded by people and places. Now his brain was so human that didn’t even matter. If he’d been forced to stay there as a full Time Lord, he didn’t want to think how he’d have coped.
“You’ll never get back there,” he murmured sympathetically. “If all six billion of you beat me, there is no universe. If you didn’t, he’ll be able to stop you even breaking through.”
“Don’t you think I haven’t thought of that?” said the Master, voice syrup-sweet and patronising again. He reached forward and patted the Doctor on the cheek a couple of times, before leaning back against the TARDIS.
Then he froze. A moment passed before he half fell forward, a move that nearly sent the Doctor’s chair flying until the Master grabbed it. He ran his hands over the Doctor’s face, this time curious and disbelieving as opposed to mocking. His hand went to the Doctor’s neck, feeling for his pulse, and at the same time the Doctor felt a brief stab of mental contact before the Master shot backwards, mind and body.
“You- you- you-“ He gestured frantically at the Doctor who met his gaze coolly, feeling a rush of triumph at having the upper hand for once. “You’re-“
“Half human?” supplied the Doctor. “Mortal? Unable to regenerate? One-hearted? A biological metacrisis that turned a little bit interesting?”
“That’s disgusting!” spat out the Master, eyes still wide and not really believing. “You- you traitor!”
The Doctor laughed suddenly. Any Time Lord would have reacted like that. Even he’d reacted like that at first. Coming from the Master, the disgust gave him the strongest sensation that the more human he was, the better.
“I’m a one-of-a-kind!” he said happily. “It’s actually quite nice. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it!”
“You’re... wrong,” the Master managed at last, his brain still giving him trouble supplying the words.
The Doctor grinned. “You can be a Time Lord and his human companion. Although,” he added, as if considering carefully, “if you’re after an immortal friend, you can always talk to Jack. He might be the only thing left of your home universe, after all.” Possibly Jack deserved better than being thrown out as the final insult in an already unbearable situation, but the near-hysterical situation left the Doctor not caring. If they were all going to die, he might as well make sure the Master was sufficiently horrified.
“How... how did this happen?” The Master was standing well back now, almost shrinking away as though humanity was communicable.
“Told you: metacrisis,” he replied. “I grew out of my old hand, only one of my companions got in the way.”
“So you... so you settled down and got married and started living like one of them? You’re going to die!”
“Yes,” said the Doctor simply. “And before that happens, I’ll have been able to live with Rose.”
“Only you would think immortality is a curse!” The Master jabbed his finger towards the Doctor, but didn’t step forwards.
“No,” came the quiet reply. The Doctor sighed and shook his head at the ridiculous figure in front of him. “Only you would think it’s a blessing.”
For a second the Master was still, staring down at the Doctor, still taped in his chair. The Doctor felt an odd sort of pity well up in him. The last of the Time Lords (in this universe, at least) was a man driven mad inside his own brain with the help of his own people, not able to see far enough beyond his own nose to realise the sorts of things that really made life worth living. And now to discover he’d concentrated so much energy on someone who was half a species he barely believed were worth the oxygen they required.
Suddenly the Master strode across the room, snatching a gun from the hands of one of the guards before stalking back towards the Doctor. He didn’t stand as close as he had before, but he was close enough that he could hardly miss. Providing, that was, he could get his hand to stop shaking.
He glared down the barrel of the gun, each breath seeming to make up his mind to shoot before not quite doing so.
The Doctor could see that somewhere in the back of the Master’s mind, the truth had come together. If he’d won in the other universe, there was nothing to go back to. Same as if his own machines went slightly wrong. He didn’t have the immortal enemy he’d thought he had: whether it happened today or in fifty years time, eventually the Master would end up alone.
Watching him, staring down yet another gun, the Doctor wondered if this was it. The end. Dying of a gunshot wound any proper Time Lord could easily regenerate from. No doubt the Master could see the symmetry too. All the same, the Doctor nearly laughed aloud: a man insane enough to murder billions for the pleasure it brought him was hesitating over the trigger. But he couldn’t hesitate forever.
“Ooh, a little human like me is worth a shot from the last of the Time Lords, is he?” the Doctor asked, not sure if he was egging the Master on or trying to stop him. Perhaps it was better to die now than be forced to live even one lifetime with the Master. He just wished he’d been able to see Rose one last time.
“You...” The Master’s hand was still not steady, but he made to step forwards, his finger almost imperceptibly tightening on the trigger.
Part 4
Author: shinyopals
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Rose/Ten II
Summary: Trapped and imprisoned, with no hope of rescue from Torchwood, the Doctor and Rose are forced to go to desperate lengths to save each other and the universe from a deadly enemy who's been watching them for a long time.
Author's notes: Thanks to ginamak for beta reading and various others for encouragement!
Episode 19 and the finale of of a virtual series at the_altverse, following Clocksleepers last week.
Virtual Series Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2
The corridors were mercifully quiet as Rose hurried back through them. Once or twice she had to duck into a room to avoid hypnotised guards, but their patrolling was not particularly thorough. Whatever they might have been like normally, the trance-like state they were in rendered them little more than automatons.
Her feet automatically led her back the way she’d come. Instead of going back into the large room where the Doctor was captive, however, she veered off down the corridor to the right. She was so close to him. Every little noise she heard from her left was turned into a gun shot or a shout of pain by her treacherous imagination. Wanting nothing more than to rush back in there just to make sure she could see him one last time, she forced herself to keep moving forward and further away from the door. If she went back, everything would be lost. She needed a plan first.
Rose picked her way along the corridors until she found a tiny, disused room - more of a cupboard, really - that shared a wall with the room in which the Master held the Doctor captive. She could just see outlines of pipes and electrical boxes on the walls from the light that shone through the door.
For lack of anything else to do, she quickly began to search. If there was a second way into the room with the Doctor and the Master, she might use that to her advantage.
The concrete was smooth beneath her fingertips and she sighed. It had been a long shot, but where did it leave her?
Under her feet, the floor creaked.
Rose froze where she was standing. The pipes attached to the wall continued to drip. No sound of rushing feet suddenly appeared.
She shifted her weight again, this time intentionally. Another creak. Solid concrete shouldn’t creak like that.
Jumping back, she pulled her keys out of her pocket. The tiny, LED torch was all she had at the moment, but it revealed the edges of a trap door. For a moment, she just stared at the door, before a little voice in her mind pointed out how little time she had left. Certainly no time for dithering.
She reached down and felt along, finding the catch. The mechanism made a loud ‘clunk’ that echoed down the corridor and made her wince. The door gave, though, and allowed itself to be pulled upwards and open. The tiny beam from her torch revealed a metal ladder and nothing else. She glanced down the corridor one last time, half hoping some magical solution to everything would jump out at her.
Then, for lack of any other ideas, she scrambled into the hole and down the ladder. Perhaps there’d be a way back up into the main room. If she could just get close enough to the Master, she might be able to beat him. She might not, of course, but she was running out of options.
At least her plan, however rubbish, meant she’d get to see the Doctor before they both died.
The ladder came out into a tiny, nearly pitch black room. With the help of her torch and her fingertips, she felt around the walls until she found a lump in the cool material. The catch to the door was stiff and cold in her hands, but it slowly slid into place and the wall started to move.
A sliver of brightness appeared, so Rose pocketed her keys and braced herself for action, squinting as the light hit her eyes.
The room revealed itself to be empty of people, and she breathed a soft sigh of relief. She didn’t, however, miss the fact that on the opposite side of the room was a proper set of stairs leading up. If her senses were telling her right, they were leading up into the main room where she’d left the Doctor and the Master.
Carefully, she edged forwards. The stairs were grubby metal, but they looked secure and stable. At the top was a metal door and a keypad next to it. It looked sturdy and pretty close to soundproof, so wherever it led, she was safe from detection for now. She thought she could get through it, though. Now she needed a weapon. It might be possible to get a gun from one of the guards, but it was risky: the only way to distract them distracted her too.
Turning around, she began to properly inspect the basement room she’d found herself in. It appeared as though the door she’d just walked through could slide back into place and camouflage itself. It was impossible to tell whether the secret entrance had been due to the previous owner or due to the Master himself. Was he aware there was a back way in?
The rest of the room was filled from floor to ceiling with computers and tubing and circuits, looking as thought it was held together by string and sticky-tape. It reminded her both of the TARDIS console - how she had been in the old universe - and of some of Rose’s work at Torchwood. This room had grown organically as technology had been added to it. It was definitely the Master’s work. Even allowing for Torchwood technology, it was too advanced for a human.
Moving forward to inspect a wire rack with what looked like pieces of coloured hose-pipe attached to it, Rose was suddenly caught up short by a familiar shape in the corner of her eye. She whirled to face the bookcase. On the top shelf was a beautiful wooden and brass marine chronometer, elaborately connected, through a telegraph machine, to various computers.
She knew that system. She’d seen it a thousand times. She’d helped build it and rebuild it and argue over components and connections and programming until every tiny detail was permanently etched in her brain.
The Master had stolen the dimension cannon.
Not the original, of course. She’d seen enough of that in Torchwood earlier - had it really been only a few hours ago? - but he’d taken the blueprints or hypnotised one of the scientists or something. How he’d got it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that it was here and he’d tied it into his system. Now that she thought about it, it was an obvious choice. To fix a key to travel between the universes, there was no better equipment on this planet. But hadn’t he thought...?
Taking a deep breath, she shut her eyes, trying to subdue the flood of excitement and stop her hands from shaking. She didn’t have the time to make mistakes through over-confidence.
He’d stolen technology she understood inside out, barely making any changes. How thick was he?
She leaned forward and sat down to fire up one of the computers.
Not thick, she reminded herself. Clever, and dangerously so. She looked along the familiar design, each tiny change from her own project sticking out like a sore thumb. Sometimes she still dreamt about working frantically on the cannon, waking up in a panic before she found the Doctor’s solid presence beside her. Even her own subconscious in the most ridiculous of dreams could recall every screw and every wire.
He was using it to channel power. At one end, cables and wires and a bit of purple hosepipe led out of the room and up into the main room. That would connect to the key, somehow? She supposed so, anyway. His aim was to fix the key, so he’d be channelling the power into that. But where was the power coming from?
She chewed on her lip as she hesitated again. She knew this machinery, but would sabotaging it be enough? If she couldn’t trace where the power was coming from, she might still rip the universe apart.
As she thought, her eyes fell on a small security station. Could she...?
She jumped to her feet and dashed over to look through the feeds to the security cameras. The Master had wired up half the building and from here he could watch over his domain. She found a picture of the wide room that she recognised and switched to that camera.
The view was of a couple of armed guards by the door. They were very still - only the time in the bottom corner changed. The camera was static, too, not giving her the view of the Doctor she craved.
She found the speakers and switched them on.
“... now?” came then Doctor’s voice. Relief flooded Rose. He didn’t sound happy, but he did sound alive.
“Now we wait,” came the gleeful response from the Master. “The Clocksleepers finale will be coming to a climax in no time at all. Then the fun really starts.”
Rose started, then rolled her eyes at herself. The power was coming from Clocksleepers, of course! She kept forgetting the stupid show when she wasn’t wishing she could be watching it. He was good. But still, how could a TV show rip apart the worlds?
Did that matter, though? However it was going to work, she couldn’t stop the show from here. The BBC television centre was too far away, and who knew if that would stop it worldwide? Usually a phone call from Torchwood would be enough, but with the power this show had?
“I can’t stop it,” she murmured to herself, feeling the bleakness of defeat settle around her. She didn’t even think the Master could stop it now, not everywhere. The universe was going to collapse because of a television show and there was nothing she could do.
And if the Master fed the energy through the key in just the wrong way, theirs wouldn’t be the only universe to implode.
She screwed her eyes shut. There was still some hope: if she could work out what he was doing she could sabotage this Dimension Cannon. One wrong move, though, and everything would end.
“How’s that going to work, anyway?” asked the Doctor. It was some small comfort to know he was as confused as she was. “I get the hypnosis - that’s your usual. But how does this help you fix the key?”
“Oh, but that’s where the real genius is!” began the Master. “And really, I only have you to thank!”
“How?” The Doctor’s voice was crisp and irritated.
“Did you think I was separating our beloved Captain Jed and Isabelle into different universes just for your benefit?” he replied. Rose could hear his smirk and gritted her teeth. “Well, I suppose the chance to echo your life was an unexpected bonus. But oh no, that’s all part of the plan. The power of words and not weapons. We are switching places, aren’t we?”
“What do you mean by that?” The Doctor sounded apprehensive now, his tone putting Rose even further on edge.
“If six billion people thinking the word ‘Doctor’ with the help of fifteen satellites can give you those abilities, what can six billion people desperately wanting the universes to rip apart so their beloved TV show characters can get back together, all with the help of every television set and satellite dish and cable in the world do?”
There was silence. Rose’s blood ran cold. All that power, from all those people. Even cutting through a few wires wouldn’t be enough to break the connections. The power would have to go somewhere. Stopping the show was the only way. And stopping the show was impossible.
“Master, you can’t,” said the Doctor now, this time pleading again. “Listen to me! This will shatter this entire universe.”
“Then we’ll go home!” said the Master viciously. “And if it destroys there too, we can move on again! The last two in any universe. How about it?”
A noise behind Rose distracted her. Out of habit, she jumped sideways and ducked as she turned. That habit probably saved her life, as a bullet flew past her ear, crashing into the computer and breaking the screen.
Her eyes took in the two guards automatically as she flung herself to the floor behind one of the desks.
There she lay silently for a moment, checking for injuries and listening for movement. She was fine, and they stayed by the door. The hypnosis made them slow, but it wouldn’t slow down their bullets. In this tight space, she’d have no chance if she made a run for it.
Footsteps moved forward. An even, balanced tread with no hesitation. The hold on his mind was strong, and she doubted anything would give him cause for concern over shooting an unarmed innocent.
A quick glance around her revealed no serviceable weapons. She balled her fists, listening to his footsteps.
One... two... he was on top of her now, staring down. Not giving him a chance to think about shooting, she launched herself forwards, propelling her entire body weight onto the bottom of his legs. Like a great tree, he began to topple, kicking her accidentally as he did so. She grunted in pain, winded by her effort. His own slowed reflexes had made him fall without bracing himself and he seemed to be at very least stunned.
Reaching back, she made to grab the gun, but some part of his brain remained and he kept a tight hold on that.
She whirled back around, remembering the second guard, only to find herself facing down the barrel of a gun.
In the silence, her swallow seemed unnaturally loud.
The guard was looking down on her with the same blankness she’d grown used to. Except... he was hesitating. Some tiny part of his brain seemed to be realising he was holding a gun right to someone’s face with his finger on the trigger. She held still, too afraid to move or talk but sure she had to do something to save herself. Her heart thumping in her chest seemed sure to be loud enough to make him shoot.
His eyes suddenly went even blanker. For one hopeless, horrified moment, she thought she’d lost and he was going to shoot. Then his body crumpled.
Behind him, stood Isabelle (or should that be Anna?), holding one of the other guard’s guns by the barrel. She’d thumped him around the head with the butt of her weapon. Jed stood behind her, looking torn between being appalled and impressed. Rose stared up at her rescuers stupidly for a moment, before Isabelle took the weapon properly and levelled it at something over Rose’s shoulder. The barrel wobbled a bit too much for something pointed so close to Rose’s head, but she bit her lip and didn’t mention it.
The other guard was still conscious, but might as well not have been. Rose scrambled aside and gestured for Jed to help her drag them to the side and handcuff them with their own cuffs.
“Thanks,” she said breathlessly.
“‘S what we do,” said Isabelle. “I suppose so, anyway.”
Rose hesitated before speaking again. “Are you...?” she trailed off awkwardly. There was no nice way to ask if the two of them were over their identity crises yet.
“I’m Isabelle,” she said. “And I think I’m Anna too.” She dropped the gun onto one of the tables, making Rose wince. “I don’t know anything else,” she admitted. “It all feels so real, still.”
“It’s as real as you want it to be,” said Rose. “The Master can put lines in your mouth, but he doesn’t get people. He has to hypnotise the world to get them to cry.”
Isabelle smiled softly as she glanced at Jed. “Maybe,” she said.
“Can we help?” asked Jed. He’d removed his outer layer and the dark purple shirt he was wearing was far more low-key than any of the rest of his clothes. That, coupled with with his quietness and the uncertain way he kept looking at Isabelle, suggested he wasn’t nearly so secure in his non-identity as she was. Rose tried to smile encouragingly at him.
She turned back to the room at large and surveyed it. The clock was ticking. Soon, everything was going to fall apart, and it was up to the three of them to do something.
Then she realised, with a shock, she knew exactly what they needed to do. Somehow, in between dodging bullets and reassuring fictional people, it had all fallen neatly into place.
She grinned and turned back to Jed and Isabelle.
“Yes, you can help,” she said, unable to stop herself from smiling. “Now come on, we’ve got about ten minutes!”
~*~
The Doctor stared up at the Master, part of him thinking that now, at least, he had to wake up. This had to all be a big, cruel dream.
“So, where do you want to go first, faithful companion?” asked the Master with a leer. “I think our universe will still be waiting for us.”
“Not if you or the other Time Lords had anything to do with it,” replied the Doctor dully.
“Just think of the adventures we’ll have!” added the Master cheerfully. “I might even let you save a life every so often if you’re good. The odd butterfly. Maybe even a kitten.” He paused as though considering. “Although that might be a bit too far.”
“I think living here has driven you even more barmy,” said the Doctor, shaking his head.
“No Time Lord can live for long in an out-of-sync world,” snapped the Master. “I’m doing you a favour.”
The Doctor vaguely recalled when he’d first landed in this world with Rose and Mickey. He’d been convinced they were in some no-place because it was so silent in his mind. No TARDIS, nothing outside. Parallel London hadn’t eased that feeling, despite being surrounded by people and places. Now his brain was so human that didn’t even matter. If he’d been forced to stay there as a full Time Lord, he didn’t want to think how he’d have coped.
“You’ll never get back there,” he murmured sympathetically. “If all six billion of you beat me, there is no universe. If you didn’t, he’ll be able to stop you even breaking through.”
“Don’t you think I haven’t thought of that?” said the Master, voice syrup-sweet and patronising again. He reached forward and patted the Doctor on the cheek a couple of times, before leaning back against the TARDIS.
Then he froze. A moment passed before he half fell forward, a move that nearly sent the Doctor’s chair flying until the Master grabbed it. He ran his hands over the Doctor’s face, this time curious and disbelieving as opposed to mocking. His hand went to the Doctor’s neck, feeling for his pulse, and at the same time the Doctor felt a brief stab of mental contact before the Master shot backwards, mind and body.
“You- you- you-“ He gestured frantically at the Doctor who met his gaze coolly, feeling a rush of triumph at having the upper hand for once. “You’re-“
“Half human?” supplied the Doctor. “Mortal? Unable to regenerate? One-hearted? A biological metacrisis that turned a little bit interesting?”
“That’s disgusting!” spat out the Master, eyes still wide and not really believing. “You- you traitor!”
The Doctor laughed suddenly. Any Time Lord would have reacted like that. Even he’d reacted like that at first. Coming from the Master, the disgust gave him the strongest sensation that the more human he was, the better.
“I’m a one-of-a-kind!” he said happily. “It’s actually quite nice. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it!”
“You’re... wrong,” the Master managed at last, his brain still giving him trouble supplying the words.
The Doctor grinned. “You can be a Time Lord and his human companion. Although,” he added, as if considering carefully, “if you’re after an immortal friend, you can always talk to Jack. He might be the only thing left of your home universe, after all.” Possibly Jack deserved better than being thrown out as the final insult in an already unbearable situation, but the near-hysterical situation left the Doctor not caring. If they were all going to die, he might as well make sure the Master was sufficiently horrified.
“How... how did this happen?” The Master was standing well back now, almost shrinking away as though humanity was communicable.
“Told you: metacrisis,” he replied. “I grew out of my old hand, only one of my companions got in the way.”
“So you... so you settled down and got married and started living like one of them? You’re going to die!”
“Yes,” said the Doctor simply. “And before that happens, I’ll have been able to live with Rose.”
“Only you would think immortality is a curse!” The Master jabbed his finger towards the Doctor, but didn’t step forwards.
“No,” came the quiet reply. The Doctor sighed and shook his head at the ridiculous figure in front of him. “Only you would think it’s a blessing.”
For a second the Master was still, staring down at the Doctor, still taped in his chair. The Doctor felt an odd sort of pity well up in him. The last of the Time Lords (in this universe, at least) was a man driven mad inside his own brain with the help of his own people, not able to see far enough beyond his own nose to realise the sorts of things that really made life worth living. And now to discover he’d concentrated so much energy on someone who was half a species he barely believed were worth the oxygen they required.
Suddenly the Master strode across the room, snatching a gun from the hands of one of the guards before stalking back towards the Doctor. He didn’t stand as close as he had before, but he was close enough that he could hardly miss. Providing, that was, he could get his hand to stop shaking.
He glared down the barrel of the gun, each breath seeming to make up his mind to shoot before not quite doing so.
The Doctor could see that somewhere in the back of the Master’s mind, the truth had come together. If he’d won in the other universe, there was nothing to go back to. Same as if his own machines went slightly wrong. He didn’t have the immortal enemy he’d thought he had: whether it happened today or in fifty years time, eventually the Master would end up alone.
Watching him, staring down yet another gun, the Doctor wondered if this was it. The end. Dying of a gunshot wound any proper Time Lord could easily regenerate from. No doubt the Master could see the symmetry too. All the same, the Doctor nearly laughed aloud: a man insane enough to murder billions for the pleasure it brought him was hesitating over the trigger. But he couldn’t hesitate forever.
“Ooh, a little human like me is worth a shot from the last of the Time Lords, is he?” the Doctor asked, not sure if he was egging the Master on or trying to stop him. Perhaps it was better to die now than be forced to live even one lifetime with the Master. He just wished he’d been able to see Rose one last time.
“You...” The Master’s hand was still not steady, but he made to step forwards, his finger almost imperceptibly tightening on the trigger.
Part 4