She learned it the hard way. Some people were never meant to exist. Not even the Doctor wants her as a companion. But then the Master saves her from certain death and discovers that this human girl might be of more use to him than he expected.
Ranki...
A/N: Here ends our journey into the Master's past. ;P But maybe there will be more in the future. You know...I've been to the baltic sea for a week and thought about writing the next part somewhere by the sea... BUT! My brain decided to suddenly come up with a completely different topic out of absolutely nowhere...
Also, I'm finally fully vaccinated! °v° I really hope this next winter won't be as draining as the previous one. UwU
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It took a long while for me to wake up again. Time felt as if it had bent and twisted to stretch itself into an eternity. A dream within a dream within a dream. The memories I had seen, condensed and incomplete, had left me with the impression of years and decades instead of the few hours I had actually slept.
As tired as I still was, the experience left me with thousands of burning questions. How much of this had really happened? How much was only half a memory and half a dream?
In my back I felt the calm double beating of sleeping hearts, his hand still resting on my skin below the shirt. With every other person this would have felt too close, too intimate, too demanding. Not because of the proximity, but because of how safe it made me feel.
Yet I moved away, lifted his arm to turn on my back and stare at the dark ceiling. Had the TARDIS dimmed the lights in here or had it been the Doctor? It was still bright enough to make out shapes and many machines gave off small sounds and hums.
One of those sounds was close to my ear, repeated once. Then I felt a strange electric tingling on my arm and heard it again.
"Did you save him?" I asked the TARDIS in a whisper.
Another hum answered, sounding warm and reassuring.
"Why?" I breathed. "He hurt you so much."
Another soft hum and a tingling in the air around me that almost felt like a soft stroking over my arm. Almost a melody, a caress. Outside of the dream she couldn't directly speak to me, I realized. It was a true gift that I had been able to actually hear her words a single time. Now I could not understand what she wanted to tell me and maybe it wasn't for humans to understand at all.
She did hold a grudge against the Master, but she also cared for him, had sent me into all of this just to drag his mind outside and save his life.
Was that enough of a reason to do the same? I had suffered because of him, had gotten hurt in many ways. And the glimpse inside his mind just now also told me that there was not much good in him.
Not much.
But still something.
Most of what I had seen already faded, as dreams tend to do, but I could hold onto some snippets. The alien child he had spared, the short memory of a small voice calling him... I turned my head to face the Master, although I could barely make him out in the spare light. I couldn't really picture him being a father. Not at all.
