Soul's Shadow (Doctor Who - SI)

Part IX - A ghost in memories

Everything came back to me in an instant. The nebula, the day I had floated through space to collect samples, the Master trying to forcefully invade my mind.... The kiss. And then the drums that I finally could hear as clearly as he could.

I remembered the dragon's egg, still resting in my pocket. I remembered how tired and exhausted I had become without having an explanation. I remembered finding the Master, with so many drugs in his body that he barely had made it to the med bay. And then...

I opened my eyes and glanced around the room. Nothing had changed and still it felt as if an eternity had passed in which I had... dreamed? Everything from the alternate life was still burned into my memory and I wondered what exactly I had experienced there.

The door opened and in strode the Doctor, concern on his face. I raised my hand in a short greeting, but he didn't react, only came closer and observed the bed behind me.

"How is he?" I asked.

No answer.

The Doctor just sighed and dragged a chair next to me. I turned to scold him for ignoring me, but then froze at what I saw. Or rather... whom.

Okay, this was definitely weird. And wrong.

Somehow I, or rather my body, was still sitting next to the bed, also on a chair, sleeping, my head resting on the Master's chest. He stirred a little, seemed to slowly wake up. In stark contrast to myself.

Was I dead?

I tried to poke my sleeping body, then the Doctor. But I couldn't touch anything. Great.

"You really worried me there," the Doctor spoke and I saw the Master opening his eyes. "It wasn't easy to keep you alive. Even after the detox."

The Master let out a groan and rubbed his forehead, then his look wandered down where he found me and his look darkened.

"I'm not a damn pillow," he grumbled and shoved me to the side, where my body lay still, unmoving.

"I found her like that," the Doctor said. "But... I couldn't wake her."

The Master glanced down and poked my head without getting any reaction. At least I seemed to be still alive, so I simply watched the two.

"Still no reason to sleep on me," the other one grumbled.

"Lucy was really worried about you, you know."

The Master snorted. "Yeah, right. As if."

"What did you even try there, Master?" the Doctor asked, his voice getting a higher pitch. "You should know better than to..." He waved his hand in a small circle, as if words were failing him.

"Was maybe a bit too enthusiastic." The Master snickered. "Thought it might help, but the side effects collided too heavily. Didn't expect that."

"You could have died!"

"Sorry to disappoint."

The Doctor grunted annoyed and leaned forward in his chair, head resting in his palms. It took him some seconds to look up again, the brown eyes filled with sorrow.

"Why did you tell Lucy she could hear the drums?" he eventually asked, voice laced with something I couldn't quite make out. Was it anger, contempt? "She blamed herself, you know that? Thought it was her fault you almost killed yourself there."

"Her..." The Master's eyes widened and he glanced down at my sleeping body. "It's not your fault, stupid," he muttered towards me, hand stretching out as if he wanted to touch me, but then retreated, limply fell down. He sat up a little, back still leaned against the pillow. "I told her because it's true."