A/N: I finally did it, it's the last chapter! Thank you so much for reading this story, and for all the support you've showed me: you have been wonderful!

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"Coordinates," the Doctor ordered as the Master opened his eyes.

"Give me a minute, alright? You just knocked me out!" the younger Time Lord complained, getting up from the floor deliberately slowly.

"I said coordinates, you childish brat," the Doctor commanded, giving a not so gentle push to the Master's shoulder.

"Look at you, all foul-mouthed and rough. Did you get him into that, pretty girl?"

"Another word about Clara and I-" the Doctor threatened.

"Yes, yes, yes," the blond man minimised. "He always gets so jealous about his little humans, doesn't he?" he asked, still addressing Clara.

The girl guessed easily that he was trying to purposely irritate the Doctor, just for the thrill of it. The blond alien smiled coyly at her.

"Don't you ever call me pretty girl again," Clara retorted. "I punch harder than the Doctor."

The Master gave her a roll of his eyes as if she had just proved his previous point.

"Come over here and give me the coordinates for Gallifrey."

"Alright, alright." The Master reached the Doctor at the console, and glanced at the monitor. "Do we have a plan?"

"Yes. We hand you over to Rassilon and hope for the best."

"What?"

"Well, you can't blame me!" the Doctor argued. "If I help you, they'll imprison me as your accomplice, considering what happened last time."

"I thought you were going to help me!"

"I am helping you. Think about it. You can't run forever, you'll have to face your trial sooner or later. They have lost many valuable Lords and Ladies in the War, they will not desire to kill more of our own people. If you surrender now and cooperate, I think I can convince them to let you get away with a forced regeneration and the promise of behaving yourself a little. "

"I like this body!" the Master whined. "I can't burn up all my regenerations all over again, getting a new cycle is such a bother. And seriously do you really expect me to behave?"

"Look, I'm not saying you have to turn into a saint overnight, just don't kill anyone for a while and then run away when the surveillance lowers. It would be a blessing for them, they wouldn't chase you. How far behind you are those who are chasing you anyway?"

The three of them heard a loud crash, and the walls quaked.

"I forgot to mention!" the Master shouted, to surpass the rumble of the shaking walls. "They're already here!"

~oOo~

The Doctor sat alone in the cold cell. As he had expected, even though they had surrendered when the Gallifreyan soldiers had arrived, Rassilon had ordered to imprison him, together with Clara and the Master.

The Doctor was furious with the Master, naturally. He had trusted his old friend, but he had lied to him again, used him. He closed his eyes and sighed, resting his head against the wall. He knew that the Master and Clara were in the nearby cells, but he had no way of communicating with them. He just hoped that Clara was okay.

In that moment, a soldier opened the door of his cell.

"My Lord Doctor. The President will see you now."

~oOo~

"You understand, Doctor, that to every action there is always a reaction," Rassilon said calmly, pacing the large empty room back and forth.

"You've imprisoned me and my companion-" the Doctor started.

"Your lover, you mean." The Doctor remained silent, not willing to deny his love for Clara but too proud to admit it openly in front of Rassilon. "Don't think I am blind to the passions of the heart," the President continued, "I am very aware of your weakness for them." Again, the Doctor didn't speak. He himself had so often, in this body, thought of his feelings as a weakness, and wasn't entirely sure of how to handle it yet. "You deceive yourself," Rassilon continued, in reply to the Doctor's silence. "But you have done so for long centuries now, and you were always too stubborn to accept reality."

"I might say the same about you," the Doctor retorted, trying to pull together his wounded pride.

Rassilon smirked bitterly.

"I am, however, not here to question your companies. I am here to make you a fair offer."

"Fair? Knowing you, I doubt it. And is it really an offer when I am in no position to refuse?"

Rassilon shrugged lightly and gave him a dismissive gesture. "Semantics." He paused for long moments. "In the last days, I have barely been able to hold our people together. I hear them, speaking behind my back, plotting against me. I have been reckless. Times are not mature yet for what I have planned, the Council is too short-sighted to see the righteousness of my picture. That is why I had hidden my final target to them until there was no possibility of going back. But you, Doctor, you had to ruin my dream of eternity!"

"You are insane," the Doctor stated coldly.

Rassilon smirked again. "So they say. I only wanted to bring our people the place we deserve in the universe, we could have become Gods!"

"I did not came here to listen to your absurd ravings!" the Doctor snapped. Last time he had checked, Rassilon had tried to erase creation and turn the Time Lords in creatures of pure consciousness, free from the boundaries of the flesh. The Doctor wasn't going to let him try anything like that ever again. Rassilon had to be stopped.

"No, no, you didn't. You are here to accept what I offer: the role of President in my place. I will regain the respect of the Council by making you, the one who won the Time War, the leader of our people, and I will be allowed to wait safely until Gallifrey is ready to achieve the greatness we are owed."

"I won't let you do anything of the sort!" the Doctor exclaimed fiercely.

"Oh, but you will. You will accept my offer. Otherwise, the girl will die."

"No! You wouldn't-"

"I will. I assure you, I will. Accept my offer, Doctor, and the girl will return to Earth, unharmed, and with her memories intact. It is the most generous offer we have ever made to you, am I correct?"

The Doctor stared angrily at the President, his mind working relentlessly now to think of a plan to save his life and Clara's. Of course, he wanted to refuse the President's offer and finally do what he should have done eleven centuries before: kill Rassilon once and for all. On the other hand, the last thing he wanted was to put Clara in danger. Clara. His Clara who had always thought he was better, thought he knew better, thought he wasn't a killer. Clara who had always thought he was good and would eventually figure which the right thing to do was, no matter how stubborn and rough he had acted with her and with others. An idea started to form slowly in the Doctor's brain.

Rassilon spoke again:

"I won't leave you much time to think, my time is running short. Even for you, however, the choice shouldn't be complex: you have to choose between a simple human girl and your entire home planet. I believe you know with whom your loyalties are, where your place is."

"You are right, my Lord President," the Doctor answered eventually. "I know where my place is. I know with whom my loyalties are. I have always known." He inhaled slowly, trying to stead his breath. "I accept your offer."

~oOo~

Minutes later, the Doctor stood in front of the Master, his old friend's eyes looking up at him from his sitting position on the floor of his cell.

"Rassilon wants you dead," the Doctor started. "For real this time. No regeneration. No tricks."

"Were you expecting anything different? So, what's this? Are we doing sentimental? Should I start crying?" the younger Time Lord teased, immediately pretending to sniff and sob.

"Stop that," the Doctor scolded. "Can't you stay serious for a second?"

"Nah, that wold be boring. Anyways, unless you're getting me out of here, you have little to tell me."

"I have yet to decide." The Doctor paused for a long time, during which the Master regarded him carefully, trying to decipher his vague words. "According to justice, the right thing to do would be letting them execute you."

"Woah, thanks for your support, I really needed that."

"I said, 'according to justice'."

"And according to the Doctor?"

"If I'm really just that, just the Doctor, I should stay out of this," he reflected.

But no, that wasn't the answer. That wasn't what being the Doctor had meant to him. To him, it had always meant action. And causing trouble too, he remembered. After Trenzalore, sometimes he had the sense that he had lost himself. Maybe, he had only forgotten. Forgotten what being the Doctor meant, and maybe that was the reason Clara kept getting so angry with him and pushing him to be different.

"Are you just gonna sit there and watch me die, then?" the Master asked.

The Doctor answered with bending down to better face the other, grabbed the Master's hand firmly and squeezed it tight. The Master gave him a surprised look.

"Doctors don't fight," the Doctor answered, almost talking to himself. "Nor do they declare who lives and who dies. What they do… is help." He whispered the last word very low, only for the Master to hear.

The Doctor got up and turned his back to the blond Time Lord, but looked at him one last time before walking out of the door.

The younger Time Lord was staring at the sonic screwdriver in his hand, trying to figure out what it meant. "Thank you," he said suddenly, looking up at the Doctor. The Doctor winked at him, and the Master smiled.

The Doctor locked the door as he exited, making sure the guards saw him as he did so.

~oOo~

Clara was crying. She didn't want to, especially not there where everyone could see, but she couldn't help it. She wasn't usually one to cry, and she mostly did it out of anger or frustration rather than sadness. She hadn't expected, however, when the Gallifreyan soldiers had imprisoned them, that it would be the last time she would see the Doctor.

They had taken her out of her cell, telling her she was free to go home. She had asked for the Doctor. They had said she would have to go alone. Now she was sitting there on the floor of the vast landing bay, her back against a column, waiting for someone to pilot a TARDIS to take her home. She had questioned every person that had entered the room about the Doctor and his fate, but none of them had wanted to answer. There were guards at each door and there was no way she could walk past them or escape. Ultimately, she could see no hope whatsoever, which explained her tears.

"You have no reason to cry, my dear," came a voice Clara recognised too well.

She quickly wiped her tears with the sleeve of her shirt and looked up, only to find the Doctor glancing down at her, a little smirk curving his lips.

"You- you-" she stammered, her emotions a powerful mixture of confusion, relief, anger and happiness. "Where the hell have you been?" she snapped, rapidly getting on her feet. "I- I thought you were dead or worse!"

She moved to slap him, but he stopped her hand.

"Shush, just let me explain."

He pulled her close and pressed a long, firm kiss on her lips. The guards at the doors turned their backs. The Doctor glanced at them as he kept kissing her.

"Showing affection in public, makes people uncomfortable," he explained, breaking the kiss and releasing her wrist.

"So you were only kissing me to distract the guards?" Clara hissed.

"Yes, but I enjoyed every second of it," he answered, smirking cheekily. "We have a little time for ourselves now, I think."

"What's the plan?" Clara asked, knowing that he had one.

"Rassilon wants me to rule Gallifrey in his place. In exchange, you can return to Earth safe and sound and live your life. I told him I accepted his conditions."

At those words, Clara's world seemed to fall into pieces around her. She felt her lungs contract as she exhaled, but she found herself unable to breathe in again afterwards. She lost her balance. The floor became suddenly closer. Then, two strong arms grabbed her securely and she found herself breathing heavily against the Doctor's chest.

"Hey. Clara. Look at me. Clara," he called. "I lied to Rassilon," the Doctor reassured.

Her eyes searched his. "You did?"

"Of course. I needed to get us both out of here didn't I? Now, we need to run to the TARDIS, okay? Do you think you're done with your little panic attack, hmm?" he teased.

"God, you're such an idiot," she whispered, voice broken. "You scared the hell out of me."

"Don't be silly. Did you really think I'd leave you alone? You're not getting rid of me that easily, dear." He held her close, indulging in the contact even though he knew they had little time left to run. Whatever the situation, his place was with Clara Oswald, and he was loyal to her and to himself only.

"How are we going to escape? You said it yourself, we can't run forever," Clara argued.

"Oh, I think they'll be busy enough with someone else… I might have accidentally dropped my sonic in the Master's cell."

Clara beamed at him. "You didn't let him die."

He nodded. "Everybody lives. How's that for a plan?"

"But-" she started almost timidly, afraid he would agree with her- "are you sure you don't want to stay? I'd understand. After all, this is your home."

"Clara. Clara, Clara, Clara. This isn't my home. Not really," the Doctor said, giving her a knowing grin and taking her hand in his as they started to run. As they covered the distance that separated them from his TARDIS as fast as possible, Clara remembered something her mother used to tell her when she was little:

"Home is where your heart is."

THE END