The Master chases, the Doctor runs. That's how it has always been, that's how it will always end.
Deep inside his hearts the Master knows it.
It is one reason why the death of his human gnaws so much on him. With her it was the other way around.
But...
A/N: I'M BAAAACK! Yes, I'm physically unable to stop writing and, once again, I will make this your problem.
Small note: This story should and might be readable and understandable separately, although it's a sequel to Soul's Shadow. I try to explain the important bits when they are necessary. Because the first story got really uh... long. *hides the 158 chapters* *cough*
Another note: For a big part this will be written from first person's perspective. But at the start we will follow the Master around for a bit. (Because I want to)
Last note: It's Yule!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! dramatic voice To everyone who celebrates it, I wish you a great night and may the light of dawn be with you.
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The Master pushed open the door to the TARDIS with a careful gentleness that not many ever witnessed from him. It wasn't easy, with no free hands. A weary look lay in his eyes and yet he seemed refreshed. No wonder, had he just gotten back a part of his life force he had been missing for so long.
But at what cost?
He glanced down at the lifeless body in his arms. The weight of the young woman was so much heavier than it should be, although now there was even less of her than ever.
The Master quietly walked deeper into the TARDIS, searching for a room he had once found there, a long, oh so long time ago. It seemed like an eternity that he had been here. Then, to escape. Now, to preserve.
A majestic tree stood here, proud, in the centre of a small, lush forest. Not one with silver leaves, not one that reminded him of Gallifrey. No, this one had a more earthen look to it, with a thick, gnarly trunk that told of centuries and a crown as wide as the whole "forest". A creek ran its path next to it, whispering secrets, patiently digging into the ground and vainly hoping that - one day - it may become a river.
A good place, the Master decided. She had always loved water, had always begged to visit lakes and oceans, had wanted to skip stones or just sit there to listen, never getting tired of it. On that fateful day, he had found her by the sea even, bleeding out, willing to leave the world and still too enamoured with it to die anywhere else.
And he had brought her back.
Only to take the life he had given her for himself again.
Careful not to stumble, the Master walked over grass and sticks until he reached the tree. There he sank to his knees and bedded the body against the ancient wood. She was still in those sailor clothes and it made his hearts twinge for a moment. It looked as if she was just sleeping. With a tender movement that surprised himself, the Master reached his hand out to stroke her cheek.
He recoiled when all he felt was coldness.
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