Before Sunset (10/?)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: AU!Master/Doctor (10), Master/Jack, Jack/Doctor
Warning: Actual non-con this time. Also mind-control and criminally bad coffee.
Summary: Nothing goes as planed for the Doctor, but sometimes that's not even a bad thing. Other times it is.
The Doctor finished working on the TARDIS for maybe the last time. He reattached the covering to the console and stayed where he was sitting beneath it, feeling the faint vibration of the floor. Listening to the song she sang behind the lines of his own thoughts, soothing and gentle and still for him, but not for much longer. He swallowed, his hands shaking just a little, and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to this.
He had to.
The last several hours he’d spent sitting here, beneath the console, sabotaging his own ship. It had to be done. He couldn’t allow her to be abused for the Master’s schemes when he was gone, but he also couldn’t simply let her die. They’d been through so much together. She deserved better than that.
She would work as well as she ever had, as long as she wasn’t used as a weapon of any kind or send to places she wasn’t supposed to go. In that case she would just shut down or jump into the vortex without specific destination, sending her pilot elsewhere. Eventually the Master might be able to get around the security programs the Doctor had written but it would take a long time. Maybe long enough for the universe to find someone new to contradict him.
Now the Doctor’s work was done there was no reason to delay the final step any further. Except that he was scared. So very, very scared.
But he knew he had to do it. So he closed his eyes, embraced his telepathic link to the TARDIS one last time, and send the signal that would transfer her ownership to the Master.
Nothing happened. The link stayed intact, the ship’s echo a reassuring presence in the back of the Doctor’s mind.
His fear of being alone, without her, of losing the only thing that felt like home, had probably interfered with the order he’d send her. And she didn’t like the Master, not after what he’d done to her. But she was old, so much older than either of them, and had had many masters. The Doctor was just one in a long line and eventually she would accept the Master like she’d accepted everyone else. He would be the last since there would be no other Time Lord to hand her over to, but she deserved all the time she could get.
The Doctor did his best to calm down, to convince himself of the necessity of his action, and send the order again, with a new determination that allowed no refusal.
Nothing happened. The link stayed, constant and familiar. The Doctor touched the underside of the console with a trembling hand, caught between despair and hope.
“You’ll die with me,” he whispered.
In his mind he felt her silent agreement. She would not leave him.
The last TARDIS, the last part of Gallifrey, had just sealed her own fate. The Doctor knew, logically, he should be angry, or sad. But all he felt was gratitude.
And relief.
-
It wasn’t the worst coffee the Master had ever had but it was close. He grimaced into the paper-cup, took another careful sip, then he gave up and emptied the contents on the already dirty pavement.
He’d regret having wasted money on that had he actually paid for it. But he had used the sonic screwdriver he’d stolen from the Doctor on the machine, and now he considered going back and ruining it completely. He had nothing better to do, so he did just that. His work took only half a minute and left no traces on the outside but the next person to use that machine would get a very nasty surprise.
He secretly hoped it would be Jack.
The human still refused to leave the TARDIS. The Master didn’t mind so much now, not when things were promising to get a bit more fun so soon. And the Doctor might even learn something from it. Something very important. Possibly vital.
The sun was just beginning to rise. It was still dark and the streets were deserted save for him. The New-Years-Party was over for a few days already and it was quiet again at this time of the night. And surprisingly cool. The Master dug his hands deeper into his pockets.
He’d left the TARDIS hours ago, needing fresh air. A part of him still didn’t want to leave the Doctor behind even for such a short time (after all he had no reason to trust he wouldn’t do anything stupid) but he tried to leave that part behind as well. For a while. Jack would be there if the Doctor needed anyone, not that the Master believed he would. (Still his thoughts kept wandering back to the bloodstain the Doctor had left on his shirt earlier.)
He’d had a quite wonderful morning (at sunset) and had wanted a walk outside to complete it. So he’d wandered though the deserted streets pretty much all night, enjoying the clear air and the stars, until be was overcome with a carving. For coffee. The crap the machine had given him, as well as his acing feet, convinced him that it was time to go back now. He growled to himself when he realised that going back would take almost another hour from where he was.
Almost another hour later he unlocked the door of the blue phone box and had to fight a wave of panic when he was greeted with the sight of the Doctor lying motionless beneath the console.
Where was that useless human when he was needed?
When he got closer, though, the Master realised that the other Time Lord was merely sleeping. Curled up and pressed close to the control-island in the centre of the room he looked relaxed and almost happy. The Master stared down at him and didn’t know what to do.
There was a sonic screwdriver lying beside the Doctor’s limp hand. The Master hadn’t even known he had another one. He considered stealing it as well but didn’t see any point to it.
As quietly as possible he walked over to the console to have a look at the scanners, but the Doctor looked like he wouldn’t even stir if the Master jumped up and down and sang from the top of his lungs. Still, couldn’t hurt to be a little considerate for once. (Something did hurt, though, just a little, and the Master didn’t really understand.)
The scanners told him the same they’d told him every time he’d looked at them the past days. The alien ship remained absent, and it was starting to worry him a bit. Not much. Just a bit. What if they didn’t come back?
Well, other things to think about now. Like his carving for coffee. The Master turned on his heels and waked toward the kitchen, then stopped, hesitated, and eventually walked back to where the Doctor was lying. After taking off his shirt he carefully he lifted his old friend’s head and shoved the shirt beneath as a pillow. Then he left and finally got his coffee.
If possible the TARDIS coffee tasted even better than usually. But that could have been just the contrast to the poisonous stuff he’d drunk before.
-
Someone was shaking him, persistently, until he unwillingly opened his eyes.
The Master was crouching before him and it took the Doctor a moment to become aware of his surroundings. He was lying beneath the console, clutching a shirt that didn’t belong to him. Must have fallen asleep here after finishing his work. His useless work. He ran his hand over the surface he was leaning against and smiled fondly at his ship.
“Could you please stop petting that thing?” the Master growled. The Doctor didn’t react, at the moment perfectly content with ignoring him. His head hurt, as well as every bone, which wasn’t surprising, for as much as he loved his ship, her floor wasn’t exactly comfortable. Exhaustion pulled at is limbs. Still, he felt better than he had in a long time.
Eventually he handed the shirt back to the shirtless Master, who didn’t bother putting it back on, even though the air here was too cool to be comfortable for him. Instead he offered the Doctor a hand and he took it and let himself be pulled to his feet.
Okay. Going straight to bed sounded like a brilliant idea. Yet he hesitated, not wanting to waste another few hours sleeping. He had so few left.
The thought still failed to bother him very much.
“What have you done to her this time?” the Master wanted to know, gesturing to the screwdriver still lying on the floor. The Doctor hurried to pick it up, almost losing his balance, as he bent down. Oh, this was so annoying!.
“Nothing much, just thought I could fix the latest flaw in her navigational systems,” he lied. “Out of boredom.”
“Ah.” The Master sighed. “I never understood why you didn’t ever got a new one. While you were president you could have gotten the latest model available at the time. You know, one that actually works.” He smirked. “Of course that’s not an option anymore.”
The Doctor did his best to push his feelings back, too tired for the Master’s games. “It was never an option,” he said, his voice even.
In all the time they’d spend together on the TARDIS they had never spoken about Gallifrey. Not once.
He turned to leave before this could go any further, but the Master held him back, his hand encircling the Doctor’s wrist easily.
“You never told me how it felt”, he whispered, pulling the Doctor closer until their faces were almost touching. “How does it feel now, being all alone inside your head?”
“You should know.” The Doctor took a step back, trying to keep his emotions out of his voice. “You’re all alone in yours.”
“I fear you’ll find I’m not as alone I should be,” the Master said with mocking regret, refusing to let go of the Doctor’s arm. The Doctor fought him, taking another step back and colliding with another person that had stepped behind him without being noticed. Strong hands grabbed his shoulders, keeping him still.
The Doctor turned around as much as possible, then faced the Master once again, disbelieve and fury filling the gaping wound torn by the other’s words.
“What have you done to him?” he snapped.
The Master stepped closer, pressing against him so the Doctor was trapped between him and Jack who held him tight enough to bruise.
“I discovered that even in this body I am still very capable of hypnosis,” the Master whispered into the Doctor’s ear. “It was easy entering his mind during sex - after all, his mind is so wonderfully open. He didn’t even notice.”
The Doctor tried to wriggle free, but it was no use.
“Jack,” he called, for once not caring that that was the wrong name. “Don’t you see he’s controlling you?”
“Oh, I believe he doesn’t really register your words,” the Master said with fake regret. “And you can’t pull him out of this. You see, the trick with really successful mind-control is making someone do something they actually want to do.” He leaned even closer. “Very. Badly.”
The Doctor stared at him, realisation kicking in.
“You won’t,” he whispered, his voice trembling.
Why did the Master always have to use people he cared about to hurt him?
“I will.” The other Time Lords smiled cheerfully. “Why don’t you just play along? Dear Jack only gets what he wants anyway, so no-one gets hurt in the end. If nothing else, see it as an apology for blowing up my homeworld.”
He had to take a few steps back when the Doctor started struggling violently in the time agents grip, his long legs kicking dangerously close to the Master’s crotch.
“You are the last Time Lord I’d owe an apology!” he hissed, not caring for the tears in his eyes. He’d been a fool to believe the Master would stay quiet and harmless until he was gone. Now Jack had to pay for his stupidity, like so often before.
“Oh yes you do!” the Master hissed back, stepping closer again, for the Doctor had fallen still. “You blew up Gallifrey when I wanted to do it! I actually put some work and effort into that and you had to ruin my all plans only to do it yourself. Hypocrite!” He grabbed the Doctor’s face and shoved his tongue into his mouth before he could say anything in return and the Doctor felt Jack’s mouth at his neck, one hand leaving his arm to wander down his body. Oh, this wasn’t happening! It couldn’t be.
“You never apologized for that!” the Master pointed out after breaking the kiss. “I think you deserve some punishment. Don’t you think he should be punished, Bill?”
“Oh yes, Master!” Jack answered, his voice a mixture of determination, desire and obedience that sent shivers down the Doctor’s spine, made him feel sick. How could it ever come to this?
At a wink of the Master Jack hoisted the Doctor over his shoulder and carried him out of the console room and through the corridors. All the time the Doctor was fighting him, trying desperately to get him to listen, until the human finally put him back on his feet and punched him in the stomach. Without another sound the Doctor crumbled to the ground.
Jack was about to kick him when the Master’s voice held him back.
“That is quite enough, thank you.”
Jack merely shrugged and hoisted the Doctor back up. The Time Lord stayed still this time, gasping for air. He couldn’t believe this was also part of what Jack ‘badly wanted to do’.
Finally they entered a room and the Doctor was thrown off Jack’s shoulder, landing hard on a bed. His own bed, he noticed.
Without hesitation the human was over him. He roughly removed the Doctor’s clothes, holding him down effortlessly when he tried to push him off. The Doctor eventually turned his attention to the Master who was watching passively.
“Please!” he said hoarsely, while Jack tore off his trousers. “Don’t make him do this!”
To his surprise the Master took his hand, and stroked his palm with gentle fingers, and then used the Doctor’s own discarded belt to tie his wrist to the head of the bed.
“You can’t be so cruel to deny the man his fun,” he said, shaking his head in disbelieve. And while the Doctor fought against the human, kicking at him only to have his legs captured and pushed apart, the Master calmly trapped his other wrist using Jack’s belt, leaving the Doctor feeling completely defenceless and even more scared than before.
“Stop it!” he cried desperately and cried out in pain when Jack entered him one second later. The human stared fucking him with determination and a grin on his face that wasn’t anything but happy, and the Doctor closed his eyes, unable to watch.
Each of the human’s thrusts send a shock through his body that made it almost impossible for him to breathe. It hurt, Rassilon, it hurt! How could anything Jack did hurt so much?
He wasn’t aware of anything else until he felt the Master’s tender, treacherous fingers on his face again, whipping away his tears.
“What’s wrong?” The soft, amused whisper was barely audible over Jack’s grunts and the creaking of the bed. “I thought you’d enjoy being for once taken by someone who actually loves you.”
The words hurt even worse than everything else.
-tbc
October 30, 2007
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Rating: NC-17
Pairing: AU!Master/Doctor (10), Master/Jack, Jack/Doctor
Warning: Actual non-con this time. Also mind-control and criminally bad coffee.
Summary: Nothing goes as planed for the Doctor, but sometimes that's not even a bad thing. Other times it is.
The Doctor finished working on the TARDIS for maybe the last time. He reattached the covering to the console and stayed where he was sitting beneath it, feeling the faint vibration of the floor. Listening to the song she sang behind the lines of his own thoughts, soothing and gentle and still for him, but not for much longer. He swallowed, his hands shaking just a little, and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to this.
He had to.
The last several hours he’d spent sitting here, beneath the console, sabotaging his own ship. It had to be done. He couldn’t allow her to be abused for the Master’s schemes when he was gone, but he also couldn’t simply let her die. They’d been through so much together. She deserved better than that.
She would work as well as she ever had, as long as she wasn’t used as a weapon of any kind or send to places she wasn’t supposed to go. In that case she would just shut down or jump into the vortex without specific destination, sending her pilot elsewhere. Eventually the Master might be able to get around the security programs the Doctor had written but it would take a long time. Maybe long enough for the universe to find someone new to contradict him.
Now the Doctor’s work was done there was no reason to delay the final step any further. Except that he was scared. So very, very scared.
But he knew he had to do it. So he closed his eyes, embraced his telepathic link to the TARDIS one last time, and send the signal that would transfer her ownership to the Master.
Nothing happened. The link stayed intact, the ship’s echo a reassuring presence in the back of the Doctor’s mind.
His fear of being alone, without her, of losing the only thing that felt like home, had probably interfered with the order he’d send her. And she didn’t like the Master, not after what he’d done to her. But she was old, so much older than either of them, and had had many masters. The Doctor was just one in a long line and eventually she would accept the Master like she’d accepted everyone else. He would be the last since there would be no other Time Lord to hand her over to, but she deserved all the time she could get.
The Doctor did his best to calm down, to convince himself of the necessity of his action, and send the order again, with a new determination that allowed no refusal.
Nothing happened. The link stayed, constant and familiar. The Doctor touched the underside of the console with a trembling hand, caught between despair and hope.
“You’ll die with me,” he whispered.
In his mind he felt her silent agreement. She would not leave him.
The last TARDIS, the last part of Gallifrey, had just sealed her own fate. The Doctor knew, logically, he should be angry, or sad. But all he felt was gratitude.
And relief.
-
It wasn’t the worst coffee the Master had ever had but it was close. He grimaced into the paper-cup, took another careful sip, then he gave up and emptied the contents on the already dirty pavement.
He’d regret having wasted money on that had he actually paid for it. But he had used the sonic screwdriver he’d stolen from the Doctor on the machine, and now he considered going back and ruining it completely. He had nothing better to do, so he did just that. His work took only half a minute and left no traces on the outside but the next person to use that machine would get a very nasty surprise.
He secretly hoped it would be Jack.
The human still refused to leave the TARDIS. The Master didn’t mind so much now, not when things were promising to get a bit more fun so soon. And the Doctor might even learn something from it. Something very important. Possibly vital.
The sun was just beginning to rise. It was still dark and the streets were deserted save for him. The New-Years-Party was over for a few days already and it was quiet again at this time of the night. And surprisingly cool. The Master dug his hands deeper into his pockets.
He’d left the TARDIS hours ago, needing fresh air. A part of him still didn’t want to leave the Doctor behind even for such a short time (after all he had no reason to trust he wouldn’t do anything stupid) but he tried to leave that part behind as well. For a while. Jack would be there if the Doctor needed anyone, not that the Master believed he would. (Still his thoughts kept wandering back to the bloodstain the Doctor had left on his shirt earlier.)
He’d had a quite wonderful morning (at sunset) and had wanted a walk outside to complete it. So he’d wandered though the deserted streets pretty much all night, enjoying the clear air and the stars, until be was overcome with a carving. For coffee. The crap the machine had given him, as well as his acing feet, convinced him that it was time to go back now. He growled to himself when he realised that going back would take almost another hour from where he was.
Almost another hour later he unlocked the door of the blue phone box and had to fight a wave of panic when he was greeted with the sight of the Doctor lying motionless beneath the console.
Where was that useless human when he was needed?
When he got closer, though, the Master realised that the other Time Lord was merely sleeping. Curled up and pressed close to the control-island in the centre of the room he looked relaxed and almost happy. The Master stared down at him and didn’t know what to do.
There was a sonic screwdriver lying beside the Doctor’s limp hand. The Master hadn’t even known he had another one. He considered stealing it as well but didn’t see any point to it.
As quietly as possible he walked over to the console to have a look at the scanners, but the Doctor looked like he wouldn’t even stir if the Master jumped up and down and sang from the top of his lungs. Still, couldn’t hurt to be a little considerate for once. (Something did hurt, though, just a little, and the Master didn’t really understand.)
The scanners told him the same they’d told him every time he’d looked at them the past days. The alien ship remained absent, and it was starting to worry him a bit. Not much. Just a bit. What if they didn’t come back?
Well, other things to think about now. Like his carving for coffee. The Master turned on his heels and waked toward the kitchen, then stopped, hesitated, and eventually walked back to where the Doctor was lying. After taking off his shirt he carefully he lifted his old friend’s head and shoved the shirt beneath as a pillow. Then he left and finally got his coffee.
If possible the TARDIS coffee tasted even better than usually. But that could have been just the contrast to the poisonous stuff he’d drunk before.
-
Someone was shaking him, persistently, until he unwillingly opened his eyes.
The Master was crouching before him and it took the Doctor a moment to become aware of his surroundings. He was lying beneath the console, clutching a shirt that didn’t belong to him. Must have fallen asleep here after finishing his work. His useless work. He ran his hand over the surface he was leaning against and smiled fondly at his ship.
“Could you please stop petting that thing?” the Master growled. The Doctor didn’t react, at the moment perfectly content with ignoring him. His head hurt, as well as every bone, which wasn’t surprising, for as much as he loved his ship, her floor wasn’t exactly comfortable. Exhaustion pulled at is limbs. Still, he felt better than he had in a long time.
Eventually he handed the shirt back to the shirtless Master, who didn’t bother putting it back on, even though the air here was too cool to be comfortable for him. Instead he offered the Doctor a hand and he took it and let himself be pulled to his feet.
Okay. Going straight to bed sounded like a brilliant idea. Yet he hesitated, not wanting to waste another few hours sleeping. He had so few left.
The thought still failed to bother him very much.
“What have you done to her this time?” the Master wanted to know, gesturing to the screwdriver still lying on the floor. The Doctor hurried to pick it up, almost losing his balance, as he bent down. Oh, this was so annoying!.
“Nothing much, just thought I could fix the latest flaw in her navigational systems,” he lied. “Out of boredom.”
“Ah.” The Master sighed. “I never understood why you didn’t ever got a new one. While you were president you could have gotten the latest model available at the time. You know, one that actually works.” He smirked. “Of course that’s not an option anymore.”
The Doctor did his best to push his feelings back, too tired for the Master’s games. “It was never an option,” he said, his voice even.
In all the time they’d spend together on the TARDIS they had never spoken about Gallifrey. Not once.
He turned to leave before this could go any further, but the Master held him back, his hand encircling the Doctor’s wrist easily.
“You never told me how it felt”, he whispered, pulling the Doctor closer until their faces were almost touching. “How does it feel now, being all alone inside your head?”
“You should know.” The Doctor took a step back, trying to keep his emotions out of his voice. “You’re all alone in yours.”
“I fear you’ll find I’m not as alone I should be,” the Master said with mocking regret, refusing to let go of the Doctor’s arm. The Doctor fought him, taking another step back and colliding with another person that had stepped behind him without being noticed. Strong hands grabbed his shoulders, keeping him still.
The Doctor turned around as much as possible, then faced the Master once again, disbelieve and fury filling the gaping wound torn by the other’s words.
“What have you done to him?” he snapped.
The Master stepped closer, pressing against him so the Doctor was trapped between him and Jack who held him tight enough to bruise.
“I discovered that even in this body I am still very capable of hypnosis,” the Master whispered into the Doctor’s ear. “It was easy entering his mind during sex - after all, his mind is so wonderfully open. He didn’t even notice.”
The Doctor tried to wriggle free, but it was no use.
“Jack,” he called, for once not caring that that was the wrong name. “Don’t you see he’s controlling you?”
“Oh, I believe he doesn’t really register your words,” the Master said with fake regret. “And you can’t pull him out of this. You see, the trick with really successful mind-control is making someone do something they actually want to do.” He leaned even closer. “Very. Badly.”
The Doctor stared at him, realisation kicking in.
“You won’t,” he whispered, his voice trembling.
Why did the Master always have to use people he cared about to hurt him?
“I will.” The other Time Lords smiled cheerfully. “Why don’t you just play along? Dear Jack only gets what he wants anyway, so no-one gets hurt in the end. If nothing else, see it as an apology for blowing up my homeworld.”
He had to take a few steps back when the Doctor started struggling violently in the time agents grip, his long legs kicking dangerously close to the Master’s crotch.
“You are the last Time Lord I’d owe an apology!” he hissed, not caring for the tears in his eyes. He’d been a fool to believe the Master would stay quiet and harmless until he was gone. Now Jack had to pay for his stupidity, like so often before.
“Oh yes you do!” the Master hissed back, stepping closer again, for the Doctor had fallen still. “You blew up Gallifrey when I wanted to do it! I actually put some work and effort into that and you had to ruin my all plans only to do it yourself. Hypocrite!” He grabbed the Doctor’s face and shoved his tongue into his mouth before he could say anything in return and the Doctor felt Jack’s mouth at his neck, one hand leaving his arm to wander down his body. Oh, this wasn’t happening! It couldn’t be.
“You never apologized for that!” the Master pointed out after breaking the kiss. “I think you deserve some punishment. Don’t you think he should be punished, Bill?”
“Oh yes, Master!” Jack answered, his voice a mixture of determination, desire and obedience that sent shivers down the Doctor’s spine, made him feel sick. How could it ever come to this?
At a wink of the Master Jack hoisted the Doctor over his shoulder and carried him out of the console room and through the corridors. All the time the Doctor was fighting him, trying desperately to get him to listen, until the human finally put him back on his feet and punched him in the stomach. Without another sound the Doctor crumbled to the ground.
Jack was about to kick him when the Master’s voice held him back.
“That is quite enough, thank you.”
Jack merely shrugged and hoisted the Doctor back up. The Time Lord stayed still this time, gasping for air. He couldn’t believe this was also part of what Jack ‘badly wanted to do’.
Finally they entered a room and the Doctor was thrown off Jack’s shoulder, landing hard on a bed. His own bed, he noticed.
Without hesitation the human was over him. He roughly removed the Doctor’s clothes, holding him down effortlessly when he tried to push him off. The Doctor eventually turned his attention to the Master who was watching passively.
“Please!” he said hoarsely, while Jack tore off his trousers. “Don’t make him do this!”
To his surprise the Master took his hand, and stroked his palm with gentle fingers, and then used the Doctor’s own discarded belt to tie his wrist to the head of the bed.
“You can’t be so cruel to deny the man his fun,” he said, shaking his head in disbelieve. And while the Doctor fought against the human, kicking at him only to have his legs captured and pushed apart, the Master calmly trapped his other wrist using Jack’s belt, leaving the Doctor feeling completely defenceless and even more scared than before.
“Stop it!” he cried desperately and cried out in pain when Jack entered him one second later. The human stared fucking him with determination and a grin on his face that wasn’t anything but happy, and the Doctor closed his eyes, unable to watch.
Each of the human’s thrusts send a shock through his body that made it almost impossible for him to breathe. It hurt, Rassilon, it hurt! How could anything Jack did hurt so much?
He wasn’t aware of anything else until he felt the Master’s tender, treacherous fingers on his face again, whipping away his tears.
“What’s wrong?” The soft, amused whisper was barely audible over Jack’s grunts and the creaking of the bed. “I thought you’d enjoy being for once taken by someone who actually loves you.”
The words hurt even worse than everything else.
-tbc
October 30, 2007
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