Child of the void (Doctor Who)

Part I (III)

"Stop that, it's annoying."

The Master looked up and met Donna's dark look. She nodded towards his fingers that drummed a constant four-beat against the ship's wood. He hadn't even noticed doing it. And now that he knew it annoyed the human he only gave her a mocking grin and drummed even louder against the railing.

Donna's brows drew so close that the Master wondered if they would make a small 'clonk' sound when hitting together. The thought made him giggle, much to her annoyance.

"Why do I even bother with you!" She threw her hands up in exasperation and let them fall again with a grunt.

"Because you're an awful do-gooder like all of the Doctor's tagalongs." The Master stifled another giggle. "You think that he, or maybe even you, can make me better. That's what they all think."

"Being a little less of a prick really wouldn't do you harm," scolded Donna. "Maybe Lucy wouldn't have chosen home instead of you then."

Ouch! That woman could throw a punch. And it would have hurt, had it been the truth. He wouldn't tell her that the girl had chosen to stay with him.

And that it had been himself who had destroyed the opportunity on a stupid whim.

Luckily the TARDIS landed, right in time to keep him from doing something awful to the human, just to shut her up. The Doctor stepped out, nodding satisfied when looking at the time machine. Over the years his driving skills had become a little better, the Master had to admit. They were still far from being decent, however.

Without another word he shoved past the other Time Lord, nudging him with a shoulder on the way. He heard the red head spitting words again, but didn't care. He just wanted to get lost in the library and fetch some earbuds to drown out the drumming with music. If he turned the volume loud enough the incessant beating of four wouldn't reach his consciousness.

For a while.

Because, right now, they did their best to slither into the forefront of every thought that dared to appear inside his mind. Like an inferno they rose to new heights, burning down every strand of him, one by one. Sometimes it just was like this. Then they would overwhelm him, force him to his metaphorical knees for hours.

The moment the music started playing, the Master felt relief wash over him. One ear bud, then the next, and a blanket of notes and harmonies was thrown over the beating of four. It never vanished, though. If he listened close enough, the drums were still audible, no matter how loud his environment was.

So many rows in this vast library. One thing the Doctor had done right, as he had to admit; collecting all those volumes of stories and knowledge from all around the universe. The Master closed his eyes and let the music run through his veins. It was a strong beat, something the people of esoloparia used to dance to when their planet had still been young. It was like a heartbeat of its own, guiding his fingertips as they ran over the spine of the books he passed by.

There. This one. The beat sped up and the texture hisfingers touched felt warm, soothing. The Master drew the book out with care,admiring the silver letters on its cover. One of the works from a woman calledAgatha Christie, a favourite of his, although from earth. It would be a gooddistraction.