pawnofrassilon | For Eileen <3<3

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For Eileen <3<3

On a cold spring evening in Wiltshire, in the year 2011, a man falls to Earth.

Some children look up and think they see a shooting star that night. Adults, knowing that whatever it is is far too large, think it might be a comet or meteor. Or else they assume it's a trick of the eyes, an afterimage of a headlamp on the road. Some, oddly enough, think of angels. News reports are non-definitive.

Much like the film, the man isn't quite a 'man' at all-- not by the twenty-first century Earth definition, anyhow. He's alien, though it's only by the doubling of his pulses and the nature of his abrupt appearance in the first place that any human could tell.

Unlike the film, he isn't particularly concerned with saving his home world. Not anymore.

The Master lies very still for a long time, heedless of the fact he's crumpled up in the middle of an open field. He's fallen quite a distance, even for a Time Lord. And many of his injuries are much, much older than that. His clothes are little more than rags, torn to shreds and singed to the point of near purposelessness. If it's even possible, he's dirtier than ever. Exhausted. Parched. Hungry. So hungry.

Eventually it's the hunger that gets him up and keeps him moving. Feeling the click and slide of bones that are likely dislocated if not broken, the Master struggles to his feet, heaving and wincing in pain, his skin becoming momentarily translucent with the effort. He's in trouble, his energy stores dangerously low and his body in real danger of being ripped apart. But it's nothing a little snack won't fix. Taking a great whiff of the night air, he cracks a grin just short of sanity... and lets his nose lead him staggering through the darkness.

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The Master is little more than a shuddering heap on the forest floor, little sparks of blue running over his body as if he were a faulty circuit. He doesn't respond to the crowd of people around him, nor the suggestion to kill him, but the shuddering slows and eventually ceases once Rose sedates him. The Master goes limp, the eerie blue light still washing over him from time to time.

They return to base, and by the time the aster awakens, he's shackled to one of three stone walls of a cell. The fourth wall is glass, through which he can see a weary Rose Tyler, sitting on the floor, leaning against the glass.

He's running through a forest again-- but an entirely different one this time. Even without the smells and sounds, so familiar that it aches, the silver foliage tells him that it's Gallifrey. It's home.

Never mind that most of that silver is quite literally catching fire now, no longer simply a trick of the setting suns. In the air, the acrid stink of war, the stench of decay. In his head, the echo of shrill voices-- some Dalek, some Time Lord. Some species he's never even heard of. All trying to escape and lay claim to Time itself.

The drums (they never went away, not even after the link was severed) suddenly peak, spiking through his conscious mind, and he screams, stumbles. They're coming to find him. They're coming to find him and he can't hide.

"No!--"

The Master wakes with a start, rattling the shackles against the stone floor. When he catches sight of Rose Tyler through the glass, he closes his eyes and lets out a long breath, in some combination of relief and annoyance.

Rose, having just been drifting off herself, jolts awake. She swallows her instinct to ask him if he's all right, and instead says quietly, "Bad dreams?"

The Master fixes her with a stubborn glare, and rather than answer, simply remarks, "Didn't have the stomach to destroy me after all, I see."

Rose sighs, and brushes the glass with her fingertips.

"I'm fairly certain you are the only Time Lord in this universe. And possibly next to the last in any universe. So, no, I won't destroy you." She eyed him. "I won't let you out, either."

"So I'm just to become one of Torchwood's alien curiosities, then? Trapped forever in the zoo?"

Despite his fierce expression, the Master remains slumped, barely able to do more than stare at Rose in utter resentment. They must be feeding him just enough to keep him stabilized. So they've learned, after all.

"You've left me little choice, have you? Would you rather I destroy you? You've certainly done more than enough to deserve it."

Rose speaks in a voice that's firm, but quiet. She's obviously quite tired.

"What? Getting a bite to eat? Defending myself?" But he's leering now, one side of his mouth twisted into a lazy smirk.

"Right. 'A bite' being several people. People. You could have gone and found a butcher's to clear out, but instead you ate people. If you were a wild animal, you would have been put down."

The Master shrugs, as best he can. "I was in a hurry." And then he smiles again.

"But you can't put me down, can you, Rose Tyler? Because I might lead you to him."

"But you won't, will you?" Rose's voice betrays her sadness. "If I let you out, you'd just go and kill more people. I can't allow that to happen again. So as much as I want to find him, I'm afraid you're useless to me."

"Then why are you here?" The Master begins to tap against the floor of the cell, irritably. He's already beginning to get twitchy in this place. "I hope you don't expect me to feel sorry for you."

"Not a chance of that," she replies ruefully. "I suppose... well, I suppose I'm just hoping you give me some reason to give you a chance. A chance to do anything but be locked up in this cell until the day you run out of regenerations."

The Master looks at her, taken aback for a moment, and then bursts into bitter laughter.

"Regenerate? Oh, that would just solve all of my problems, wouldn't it? Just... 'regenerate!'"

He doubles over a bit with a fresh bout of giggling.

Rose frowns and shakes her head. "What? Can't you regenerate?"

His head snaps up and he gives her a sidelong grin.

"Of course I can regenerate, Rose Tyler. I'm regenerating right now."

He stares at her, hard, wondering if she'll catch on.

Her frown deepens.

"Is that why you need all this food? Are you burning regeneration energy just to stay alive?"

"More like it's burning me up," the Master corrects her sullenly. Giving him an audience for his pity party can be a dangerous thing.

"Didn't the Doctor ever tell you what happens to a Time Lord when he regenerates?"

"Not as such," Rose admits. "He never really told me the specifics."

The Master sighs wearily. Of course he wouldn't.

"Well, let's put it this way: all that energy has to go somewhere. And if the regeneration can't complete..." He lets the artron wash over his body again to make his point, even though it hurts.

In spite of herself, Rose feels sorry for the Time Lord.

"Is there anything to be done about it?"

His eyes narrow, his expression closing off to a wary one. He isn't about to let anyone just experiment on him. Besides...

"I'm dying," he snaps. "The Doctor couldn't even do anything."

Just stood there with that idiotic look on his face. That look of pity. Ever so helpful as usual.

Rose swallows.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs. "I'm so sorry."

He wants to strangle her for that alone. Instead the Master settles back and laughs sardonically, staring at her with displaced resentment.

"He's even got you spouting the party line."

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