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They’d had to run hard to escape. An exploding ship, they’d barely made it to the TARDIS on time. His friends heaved relief, chattering as he set coordinates, his legs screaming.
“Well, I think we’re all due rest.” He smiled.
Adric and Tegan bickered over something, disappearing down a corridor, Nyssa following.
The pain gushed out in waves. He’d been holding it down for weeks, and here it was. Tipping over the surface, folding him onto the console-room floor. He let himself gasp. His breath shuddered. No one here to witness this. Something pricked the corner of his psyche. Another consciousness approaching him.
Tutting. “I thought as much.” The Masters’ silky voice wrapped round him.
Had he forgotten to lock the doors- he needed to warn his friends his-
“I’m not here to harm them, my dear Doctor.”
Arms slipped under him, lifting him up. He heard the buzz of a teleport, felt himself being placed- so gently- down onto soft, silk, bedsheets.
“No- no- I need to- no-” he mumbled. He cursed this body. The fatigue, like a lead weight thrust upon him. He was constantly, CONSTANTLY pushing that weight. Every waking moment.
The Master sat on the side of the mattress. “I notice you are not a worthy adversary while you insist on refusing to seek aid.”
“Are you…” The Doctor tried to sit up, but the weight forced him back, The Master rushing to prop him up with plush pillows. “Are you taking care of me?”
The Master inhaled, bringing a glass of water to the blondes’ lips. “You are still very much imprisoned, my dear, but I have made the executive decision for you to cease suppressing your condition.”
“This was your fault.” Not that he’d know how his regeneration would have gone if he’d have been able to recover more smoothly, if it hadn’t have been quite so difficult. Or maybe this is just the body he was always going to get.
The Master raised an eyebrow. “True.” He brushed off his jacket. “It was never my intention to permanently injure you in this fashion.”
That was about as close as he’d ever get to an apology.
“So if you must refuse to admit weakness before your human pets-”
“Friends”
The Master scoffed. “Then I suppose I must have you rest here.” He rose up, heading toward the bedroom door. “Goodnight, Doctor.”
“No- I will not-”
“Yes you will, my dear.” He chuckled “fight later, hm?”
When he awoke, The Master was sat on a lavish armchair in the corner, reading an unmarked leather-bound book.
He must have heard the change in breathing. “Hello.” He didn’t look up.
“Good read?”
“My diary, in fact.” He snapped it shut.
“Wasn’t aware you kept one.”
The Master sauntered over to lay atop the covers, beside The Doctor, who was tucked under. “Sleep well?” he raised a brow.
He wriggled under the covers. His body still hurt, he was still exhausted, but he had needed that. “I need… where are my friends?”
“You’re welcome.” The Master sighed. “I gave you much needed rest and you, predictably, ask to leave.”
“Where are they?” he aimed for stern, but fell at desperate.
The Master rolled onto his back “I have no idea. Likely where I left them, but I believe that boy can fly your tin box.”
“What?”
“Why would I touch them?” he chuckled “I HAVE you, my dear.”
The Doctor searched his face for anything but only found a hint of joy. “To torture me.” He mused.
“Well of course!” he turned back “but I can do that without your pets, can’t I?” he brushed a gloved finger down The Doctors’ face “and they would only encourage you to escape.”
“They’ll find me.” He whispered.
“They’ll try.” The Master smiled. “But I don’t think you’ll want to go with them.”
The Doctor laughed.
“I’m serious.” He kissed The Doctors’ cheek. “You don’t understand, not yet. But you will.” He rolled off the bed, smiling.
The Doctor wanted to pull him back, replaying the moment his lips hit him again and again… but he had to find a way out. He couldn’t be comfortable. He needed to escape. He pushed against the lead weight. But his legs, his arms sank into the silk sheets, soft and filled with The Masters’ scent.