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Cosmic Power

Summary:

The Master is about to acquire the power to shape the universe to his will, but when the machine suddenly demands the sacrifice of the Doctor in return, he finds that there's something that he wants more than power.

Notes:

Written for Dick-or-Treat, move 322. Cosmic Power

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The Master can hardly believe it. Everything that he ever wanted is within his reach, the power to do with the universe as he pleases, and this time the Doctor won't be able to stop him. He would like to take sole credit for it, but the Doctor was the one who stumbled on one of the ancient traps, a sort of stone table with straps that pulled him to place, so all that the Master has to do is to reap the benefits.

“Don't worry, my dear Doctor, my offer remains even if there's nothing you can do to stop me. There will be a place for you by my side, neither of us will have to fall victim to the High Council again,” he says without looking at him, as he inputs the final codes into the long dormant computer.

The Doctor will refuse him, of course, at least for now, but once he sees that there's nothing that he can do, he'll see sense. He'll want to keep the Master in check, and the only way to do that will be by sharing in that power. In time, the Doctor will appreciate the position, and will see the Master’s side, and the Master is patient enough to wait for that to happen.

“Don't do this, you're involving yourself with forces we don't understand. No one should have this sort of power, it destroyed whole civilizations,” the Doctor says, fighting against his restraints.

It'll be different with them, he knows it. The Master doesn't have qualms about killing when necessary, but he doesn’t actively seek it when there's no point to it, and the Doctor will only rarely kill, and only when he thinks it'll save lives. They can balance each other, bring order and peace to the universe, change the stagnant ways of their people, who keep persecuting all their best minds. They'll be the benevolent rulers of the universe, and will have nothing to fear.

“It was never shared before, all the legends talk of a lonely despot. We only have to do things differently, if you want to protect them, stay with me and I promise to listen to you,” the Master says, finally completing the codes.

He frowns, staring at the screen, and barely registers the Doctor’s predictable denial and tired speech. He spent years gathering information, completing several tests of mental aptitude, as well as acquiring the codes for the final stage of the process, but rather than imbue him with the promised cosmic power, the screen is demanding something else, which none of his research prepared him for.

“To receive control of the cosmos, a final show of faith. Place your heart on the altar and trade a life for the power supreme, only through sacrifice may power be gained,” he read aloud, sure that he must have made a mistake of some kind.

After so many tests, and he has proven more than capable in all of them due to his superior intellect, now this. It's possible to remove one heart without killing a Time Lord, but not without help and not without access to technology only found on Gallifrey. It's too much of a risk, especially as he already wasted so many regenerations. Still, if this is the price to have everything that he ever wanted…

“They didn't want anyone to have this power, don't you see it's tricking you?” the Doctor says, fighting against his restraints. “It wants you to kill yourself so you won't be a threat anymore.”

The Master is about to respond when the Doctor shouts, and he turns just in time to see some sort of scanner passing through the Doctor, and then through him, a strong electric current that nearly overflows his neurons, too fast for him to push back against the telepathic intrusion reading his thoughts and memories.

He turns to the screen, searching for an explanation, and feels a chill down his spine as he reads aloud the only two words on the screen: “Sacrifice acceptable.”

It all slots into place in a fraction of a second. Not a literal heart, but a metaphorical one, and the scan was determining if he placed a person of sufficient value to him on the altar. Even the trap the Doctor triggered, only active after the Master started inputting the final codes, makes sense now. He had seen specifications for a weapon before, which he now suspects is the one above the altar where the Doctor is trapped, and it's designed to cause such damage on a cellular level that regeneration is unlikely. He had even been thinking of finding and dismantling the weapon for later use before being distracted by more pressing issues, and now it’s too late.

It takes him less than a single beat of one of his hearts for him to reach these conclusions, and realise that the trap will now execute the Doctor and give the Master the cosmic power to do as he pleases. All he has to do is sit back and reap the rewards.

He reaches under the screen and pulls as many wires as he can grab at once, then runs to the Doctor.

“We have to leave this place at once,” he says, cutting through the straps with a knife, ignoring the jolts of electricity as he cuts the internal wires.

“So you have finally seen reason. What's the trick of this place?” the Doctor asks, then seemingly realises that the machine above him is charging to attack and uses his newly freed arm to take his sonic screwdriver to try to stop it as the Master continues to cut him free.

He spares a stray thought to the momentary relief that the Doctor didn't reach the same conclusions that he did. Worse than giving up on all the power he has been searching for all of his lives would be being forced to admit weakness in front of the Doctor.

“Quickly, it only needs sixty seconds to charge,” the Master says, remembering the specifications that he read earlier.

He knicks his finger in his haste, but finally cuts the last restraint, pulling the Doctor off the altar as he keeps a countdown of the charging time.

“The transporters are this way,” the Doctor says, starting to run East, while the transports are North, but the Master doesn't bother correcting him on that.

“We won't make it in time, I don't know the range of this machine,” the Master says, grabbing the Doctor's wrist and pulling him South instead. “My TARDIS is just…”

The Doctor tries to pull away, and neither of them makes any significant progress. “I won't fall for that, I would rather take my chances with…”

“I won't let you die because you're too stubborn to listen to me,” the Master says, and yanks him harder.

He doubts that he could drag the Doctor against his will without knocking him unconscious, and is already making an inventory of everything that he has in his pockets that can be used for this purpose, but something about his tone must have reached the Doctor, because he stops resisting. Ten seconds is all they have, but his TARDIS is in the next room, and he pulls the dematerialisation with almost two seconds to spare without even imputing destiny coordinates, desperate to get them out of range.

“Your TARDIS is on the planet?” he asks without turning to the Doctor, already setting the coordinates to the same time they left, and close to the transporter on the planet.

The entire moon might be dangerous for all he knew, but he doubts the weapon can reach the planet, especially after they’ve been through the vortex, which is sure to have made it lose its target.

“So you'll just take me to her? No threats, no attempt at manipulation?” the Doctor asks, and from his voice he's still close to the doors, where the Master let go of his wrist.

It's a tempting idea. He could put a genetic lock on his controllers, leave them parked in the vortex, and the Doctor would have no way of escaping. The Doctor might be cross about it at first, but given time the Master is sure that he could explain things to him. But the way the Doctor followed him there stops him. For once, the Doctor trusted him, or at least would rather be captured by him than killed. The idea of the Doctor willingly following him is too tempting at the moment, and he might abandon it again in the future, once he's lonely enough, but for now…

“It wouldn't be satisfying to capture you in this way, and you did warn me about that treachery, so I suppose that you deserve this chance,” the Master says, still not looking at him. “I'll leave killing or capturing you for another occasion.”

He hears steps, and doesn't complete the command, although the coordinates are set. He's shaken by what nearly happened, and perhaps even more so by how easily he made his decision, but he has to find a way to keep himself under control. It would be best to rid himself of the Doctor as fast as he can, before he can start asking questions. Another reason, and perhaps easier to accept, not to try to trap him in the TARDIS now.

“But the machine didn't betray you. It was going to kill me, I was the sacrifice,” the Doctor says, dangerously close to him, and to the truth.

The Master pretends to be busy with the controllers, although he flicked the input lock first, so nothing that he's doing has any effect. Embarrassingly, he doesn’t trust himself not to do something wrong with the commands, not while they’re talking about this.

“I read about the machine earlier, it had a significant range, it could hit me from there,” he says, knowing that his argument isn't making a lot of sense.

The Doctor can be clever when he wants to, it's just that he prefers to ignore quite a few obvious things most of the time. If he's allowed to think about it, he'll reach the same conclusions that the Master did, which is an excellent reason not to allow him to think about it, but short of threatening his life now, the Master doesn’t know how to stop him.

“No, it scanned me, and it saw something in your brainwaves that made me compatible as a sacrifice. And you said you wouldn't let me die,” the Doctor says, and in a particularly unsporting move, places a hand on the Master's lower back, impairing his ability to think clearly.

He needs to find an excuse, or the Doctor will have the ultimate weapon to defeat him in the most humiliating of ways. He can almost hear the Doctor laughing at him, calling him weak and pathetic, leaving without even fighting him, sure that the Master won’t stop him. He’s almost regretting his decision, although he knows that he would have a much greater regret if the Doctor had died in such an incidental way, not even as a part of his plan.

“I would kill you myself, I wouldn't let some ancient machine have the pleasure,” he tries, aware that it's a feeble excuse.

The Doctor slides his hand to the side, then grabs him by the hip and turns him around. The Master's breath catches, being forced to see the Doctor so close to him. Dangerously close, nearly at the truth.

“You could have let me die and taken it, power beyond our imagination,” the Doctor says, staring into his eyes with an unreadable expression.

Still, the Master tries to delay the inevitable. It comes from far too much experience running from attacks and executions. Survival hard earned and bought almost by the second, hoping that a few extra seconds may grant him the clarity to think of a way out.

“You were probably right, it must be some trick. I have no proof that this cosmic power existed, it’s only a matter of legends,” he says, although of course he believed the legends, or he wouldn't have tried.

It was one of a handful of scraps of information that he managed to steal from Gallifrey. Places in the universe containing powers so great that Time Lords cowered from it and attempted to have it forgotten. In this case, a power to shape the universe that would make their mastery over black holes seem as primitive as the use of fire found in nature. Whoever hid the information had to believe that it was true, or at least that it had some truth to it, and the way that most objective facts were destroyed, leaving behind only legends, convinced him that this was something truly spectacular, that others believed was dangerous.

The Doctor doesn't seem to have listened to him at all, taking the Master’s hand and caressing the cut on the side of his index finger, where he hurt himself trying to release the Doctor. “You chose to save me instead of taking all that power,” he says, and before the Master can counter it, the Doctor takes his hand and kisses the cut.

His hearts ache at the contact, and the acknowledgement of his eagerness to save the Doctor, being careless with himself.

“I wasn't thinking, I didn't know what the machine would do, it could kill both of us,” he says, closing his eyes, trying any excuse to keep the Doctor from reaching the inescapable truth.

There are no excuses for his behaviour, nothing that he can say to the Doctor to keep him from reaching the same conclusion that the Master did as soon as he looked at the words on the screen. But the Doctor can’t know, he can’t know how the Master was almost willing to cut out one of the hearts from his chest to get what he wanted, but couldn’t even conceive of giving the Doctor’s life to reach that goal.

“So many times I asked you… why now? What changed?” the Doctor says, and it's so ridiculous that the Master has to laugh.

Of course the Doctor doesn’t know, he doesn’t want to know. It would probably be much too complicated for his view of the universe, keeping everything that the Master does as evil and every one of his own actions as good. There’s no room there for the Master to have anything but evil motivations.

“Nothing changed. The universe would just be boring without you in it,” he says, dangerously close to the truth, but perhaps he can still pretend that this is about their rivalry.

He expects the Doctor to challenge him on it, or maybe mock him for his need of company, even if it comes from their rivalry. He doesn't expect the Doctor to kiss him gently, holding him against the console as his knees threaten to give in.

“Alright, if that's what you want, nothing changed,” the Doctor whispers against his lips. “But today you made the right choice, you did what I keep asking of you.”

The second time, when the Doctor kisses him, the Master puts his arms around his neck and pulls him closer. He should be fighting the Doctor on principle, this wasn't him agreeing to give up on conquering the universe and going to the Doctor's side, this was just too big a price to be paid without guarantees, but he can't think with the Doctor kissing him. If the Doctor had used this argument more often, perhaps the Master would have given up on more of his plans, but he’s certainly not about to confess to that.

He's too afraid to break the spell that's keeping the Doctor with him, still unsure as to what brought this on, so he doesn't protest when the Doctor pushes him to sit on the console, neither particularly caring about the sensitive controls that he might break with his weight. Instead, he pulls the Doctor closer with his legs and entangles his fingers on the Doctor’s hair, trying to keep him close despite knowing that he’ll never stay.

The more prideful part of his mind complains that this is the Doctor’s attempt at training him. He followed an order and he gets a treat, all so he doesn't know that he's being controlled. It makes something uncomfortable curl in his stomach, but it's not enough to stop him from rocking his hips to meet the Doctor’s, trying to bring him closer.

It might mean nothing to the Doctor, just a reward for good behaviour, but it's still too much of a temptation for the Master to refuse. The Doctor has an unbearable hold over his hearts, and the Master wants him for his mind rather than his body, but he'll take any moment with the Doctor that he can have, even if it’s meaningless. He can never have what he wants, and this might be used against him later, but it’s still a consolation prize that he can’t deny himself.

They fumble with each other’s clothes, and it’s a good thing that he thought to lock the controls, because he presses a couple dozen buttons trying to give the Doctor better access without letting go of him. It’s only when the Master breaks a lever and nearly sends them both tumbling down that he stops to consider that his TARDIS probably deserves better treatment than this, if for no other reason than because they might end up lost in the vortex or materialise somewhere dangerous, if he accidentally overrides the lock.

“Put me down before I break something important,” he says, hitting the Doctor on the ribs with the broken lever in a way that he hopes is playful.

The Doctor chuckles, but he steps away just enough to kneel and to offer a hand to help the Master down with him, and at least he tries to arrange their discarded clothes into a slightly less uncomfortable floor before laying the Master down, although the most it does is keep away some of the cold from the metal. The Master takes the momentary reprieve to try to get a hold of himself, and, realising that he doesn’t care enough about that, to instruct his TARDIS to dim the lights slightly and raise the temperature, as well as add some heating to the floor. If he could concentrate enough, he would have changed the console room theme to something more homey, but as it is he’s already engaging too much in a fantasy.

“Setting the mood?” the Doctor teases as he notices the changes, but he’s kissing the Master again before he can reply with a cutting remark.

The Doctor seems to have lost all of his rush once they manage to rid themselves of the rest of their clothes, working him open at an almost torturously slow pace. If the Master allows himself, he can almost forget that they are enemies and the Doctor will abandon him just as soon as he lands the TARDIS. He can indulge in the impossible idea that the Doctor might have feelings for him, and this might mean something to him, despite knowing in his hearts that it’s impossible.

Of all the ways that the Doctor could have mocked his feelings once he realised what happened, taking him in a way that feels so much like making love might be the gentler and most cruel, but the Master always chooses suffering over preserving his hearts. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t still be offering to share the universe with the Doctor, despite every rejection and every heartsbreak. If only he knew how to rid himself of these feelings, then perhaps he wouldn’t be hurt to this degree at every confrontation, after giving himself far too much hope that this will be the time that the Doctor will see his way.

Even when it’s over, both of them linger, holding on to that moment. The Doctor lays on his chest, resting his head between his hearts, and the Master wouldn’t dare call this cuddling, but he does put an arm around the Doctor’s back and rests his other hand over the Doctor’s arm, as if that would keep him there, even though he knows that any moment now the Doctor will run away, evading him as he always does.

“I have you right now, how long until you make me lose you again?” the Doctor asks, but the Master doesn’t know how to answer, he doesn’t even understand the question.

The Doctor can never lose him, the Master’s hearts will always belong to him, but even now he doesn’t believe in the opposite, he could never trick himself into believing that, knowing far too well how dangerous hope could be, and how vulnerable it could make him. Whatever brought this on, the Doctor isn’t there to stay with him, and he’s not moved by his feelings. Maybe one day he’ll have enough power to convince the Doctor to stay, power over the whole universe in a way that not even the Doctor can resist the temptation, but for now he’ll just leave, as he always does, breaking the Master’s hearts in the process.

Notes:

I feel like this would be a very different story from the Doctor's POV, the Master just can't see what's right in front of him and will likely ruin everything.