When Writers Bleed On Paper

Crawling Back To You

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Characters: The Doctor x The Master

Setting: A ball during the early Victorian era

Romantic: No

Story Type: Drama

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It was supposed to be a quiet day, as the Doctor kicked up his feet onto the control penal off his Tardis. He closed his eyes to the calming, steady vibrations as the ship travelled through time and space without any destination.

His quiet was interrupted by the sound that something was banging against the door of the Tardis. Confused, the Doctor opened his eyes, blinking a few times to adjust them to the warm light of the Tardis control room. 'Impossible' he thought, looking around the room for any other explanation which could have caused the sound, but there was nothing.

Slowly, he got up from his seat, the sonic screwdriver held tightly in his hand. His fingers were tingling with excitement. Whatever was outside his door, it had to be something important if it was able to find him in the time vortex. Carefully, he opened the door and- Oh!

In front of him was a little robot, build out of two silver orbits that balanced on top of each other. It had a little speaker and wore a tiny blue hat with a little symbol in gold on it that symbolized the doctor that the tiny robot was a post robot.

"Letter for 'the Doctor'" the robot beeped, handing a letter to him and immediately vanishing once his job was done. A bit stunned, the Doctor closed the Tardis door again and moved back into the room, looking at the paper in his hand.

The envelope was heavy, the paper slightly yellow, and the dark red wax seal had a few cracks. Ripping open the paper without much care, the Doctor found a letter and a key inside. Arching one eyebrow, he took out the letter, folding it open with both hands to reveal a beautiful, curvy handwriting. The lettering was written in blood-red ink, and for one second the Doctor wasn't so sure if it wasn't actually blood. Skipping over the words once, he saw that it was not really a letter and more of a note. He read out loud for no one in particular.

London, Christmas, 1851

Midnight

You know how to find me~

The Master

The Doctor felt his mouth go bone-dry. He could almost see the Master's wicked grin while writing the letter, dipping his feather into the dark ink, and suddenly the assumptions of the ink being actual blood didn't seem too far catched. He wasn't prepared to see his old friend again, didn't want to see him turn around and run again just to wait another hundreds of years until they would stand face to face once more because, even though the Doctor hated to admit it, he always felt a spark of hope and joy whenever the Master looked at him with his knowing eyes and the almost playful grin that meant destruction.

Jumping up from his chair, the Doctor spun around the Tardis control panel, pressing buttons and pulling levers. If the Master was in London no matter what timeline, it always meant chaos.

With the usual loud and obnoxious sound, the Tardis appeared in a sidealley in London, 1851. Straightening his shoulders and dusting off his coat after the ruff landing, the Doctor opened the door of the Tardis, being hit with a shower of heavy snow as he stepped out. As the snow soaked through his clothes, the Doctor closed his eyes trying to feel where the feeling of the Master's mind was coming from. It was far away, only a brush of the known consciousness against his own, and still he could follow it.

With every step he took, the feeling grew stronger until it was almost overwhelming him. Speeding up his pace until the Doctor was running down the streets of Victorian London. His trainers were squeaking over the slippery cobblestones until he stood in front of a mansion. There were pillars out of quartz at the entrance of the tall white building, which was illuminated by lanterns. People in breathtaking gowns were walking up the stairs of the mansion. The Doctor could hear the music from inside and saw how some silhouettes of dancing couples passed the large windows.