Warning: This has heavily implied non-con (not actually written).

A/N: Yeah, another story, I know. But the plot bunnies! Don't worry, I won't forget the boys in their other adventure.

--

It wasn't the fact that when the Doctor went to sleep the Master said he wished he had a birdcage. It wasn't that he made noises every time he stumbled across some item of Rose, Jack, or Martha's. It wasn't even the fact that every time the Doctor returned from one of his trips covered in sweat or sometimes grime and blood the Master would ask him how many he let die that time. It was the looks the Master gave the Doctor when his back was turned. He never caught the Master looking, so he didn't know what emotion was on the Master's face. Was it hate? Loathing? Suspicion? He only knew the Master was looking in the first place was because the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, but by the time he turned to glance at the Master, his face was either neutral or smirking.

"What pointless endeavour are you working on now?" The Master asked as he strode into the console room where the Doctor was organizing some of his finds.

"Organizing some potentially dangerous finds." The Doctor replied, surrounded by several odd objects and a chest, barrel, and a picnic basket. "I was looking for an old spare part and I came across an exploding statue. Then I realized how often humans find their way on here and how irresponsible it would be for me to leave this stuff lying around where they could find it."

"I see. What's your catalogue system?" The Master replied slowly.

"Alphabetical." The Doctor said as the Master bent over and picked up a green globe.

"Carrionites, Cybermen, cables, and...?" He kicked at a broken porcelain bust.

"Caesar. Wait" The Doctor looked up and pushed his glasses up his nose. "Yes. Would you categorize this under 'L' or 'X'?" The Master looked at the device in his hand.

"Xaan Laser? How about 'N'?"

"Why 'N'?"

"Never Used Weapon."

"Never thought of that!" The Doctor replied with a grin and put it into the barrel. Ah, and there went the hairs on his neck. There was a silence as the Master helped him sort. The Master sat back and watched the Doctor stow the newly sorted carriers below the floor grates in the console room.

As the Doctor straightened up, he suddenly became aware of the Master's presence behind him.

"Yes?" The Doctor said lightly, turning around to find the Master closing in.

"You spend an incredible amount of time ignoring me, Doctor." The Master replied, leaning closer as he pushed the Doctor against the console.

"Or cleaning up after you.: The Doctor replied, thinking of the kitchen a few weeks ago. The Master leaned closer, forcing the Doctor to bend backwards over the console. The Doctor had a sneaking suspicion it was because he wanted to tower over him.

"And little of it spent talking."

"Do you want me to make some tea? I like a nice little chat over tea." The Doctor asked, then winced as the Master's hands tightened painfully on his wrists. The Master knew exactly how much pressure it took to break this regeneration's wrist.

"Not amused."

"I can tell." The Doctor shifted so the hammer on the console wasn't digging into his spine. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I want to get out of this TARDIS, Doctor." The Master began, straightening up when he was sure the Doctor's mind wasn't about to wander.

"Sorry?"

"I need to step outside. I've been such a good little boy-"

"You tried to hypnotize me a week ago!"

"Only to get you to sleep. You looked like a walking zombie."

"And that's why you poked around in my thought processing centres." The Doctor replied incredulously. The Master rolled his eyes.

"You're overreacting."

"I'm not about to let a genocidal maniac like you loose on the Universe." The Doctor hissed as he whipped off his glasses.

"Oh, I'm the genocidal maniac!" The Master replied, faking a surprised look. "Tell that to the Time Lords. And the Daleks. And the Racnoss. That's just off the top of my head." The Doctor was silent and glanced away.

"I've been in here for six months, Doctor. The TARDIS is big, but it's a cage."

"It's bigger than the Valiant." The Doctor snapped, patience fraying. All the past months had been spent babysitting the man in front of him, keeping him amused. And then when that was done the occasional saving of the universe. The Doctor was used to pressure, but he wasn't used to this.

"Oh, we're playing that game now are we?" The Master asked, glaring at the Doctor.

"What do you mean 'now'?" The Doctor shouted, raking his hands through his hair in frustration. "We're always playing this game! And you're in control. If you're such a prisoner, then how do you always decide what's going on!"

"I can't leave Doctor. Your problem is a case of the inmate running the asylum." The Master replied, eyes glittering but still calm. The Doctor breathed, trying to control his hormones.

"Is it the drums?"

"Oh, of course! It's always the drums!" The Master replied with a humourless chuckle.

"Well what is it then." The Doctor replied desperately, wanting nothing more to run from the console room and find some dark storage room to tinker around in.

"Maybe, just maybe, it's you." The Doctor stared back wordlessly. "Oh, don't give me that look. You're keeping me here. You're a jailer."

"Stop it." The Doctor whispered.

"No, you are. I'm locked up. And the only glimpses of the universe I get to see is through the door as you come and go."

"No, really. Stop." The Doctor whispered again.

"I've been patient. I've waited to get your trust. But you really don't seem to be appreciating it." The Master grabbed the Doctor by his collar. "So I figure, why be good if I don't get rewarded?"

"I'm just as much a prisoner here as you are-" The Master cut the Doctor off with a backhanded slap.

"No. You're really not." The Master caught the Doctor as he stumbled backwards and dragged him out of the console room, walking too quickly to allow the Doctor to right himself properly. The Master paused at one door long enough to pitch the Doctor in ahead of him.

The Doctor sat up to take in his surroundings. It was the room the Master had claimed as his own, and it seemed he had customized it personally. It was all reds and blacks and mahogany furniture. From certain racks on the walls the Doctor could see old knives and even a spear glinting. He didn't recall having that many weapons on the TARDIS.

"How long has it been since you've been in my room, Doctor?" The Master asked, yanking the Doctor's pinstripe jacket off and hauling him onto the bed.

"11.73 months." The Doctor replied automatically still glancing around the room before stiffening as the Master pressed his arms above his head.

"Oh, no. We're not doing this." The Doctor said as he tried to push the Master off.

"Funny thing is we actually are." The Master replied as he subdued the Doctor with one hand. He was putting all his weight behind that arm, but the Doctor felt he really should be able to throw him off. Maybe the pressure was getting to him.

"Listen. I know you're feeling-" The Doctor was cut off as the Master hit him again.

"I'm not a human, and I am not to be reasoned with." The Master pulled one of the Doctor's shirt buttons open every time he took a breath. "I'm not going to stop, and I'm doing this because I want to. Nothing more, no deeper meaning. I'm doing this because I can." The Master ripped off the final button and raked his nails over the Doctor's torso leaving thin red trails behind. The Doctor hissed and struggled fruitlessly again once the Master moved to take off his pants.

"You really need to stop. This crosses all kinds of lines and you're certainly not getting out of the TARDIS, not after this. Stop right now." The Doctor found himself yelling at the end in that panicky voice he rarely used. That Master paused, then sighed.

"No, Doctor, you need to stop."

Before the Doctor could react, the Master placed his fingers on the Doctor's temples and blasted through the paths he had created last week. The Doctor's walls moved to close in on him, but the Master already knew his mind well enough from the Year that Never Was and evaded them long enough to send a shock blasting through the Doctor's mind. The Doctor made a noise that sounded like a strangled stream as his eyes rolled back in his head before closing. When they opened again, the Master was pleased to see them dull, with all the normal brilliancy hidden behind a brown fog.

"That'll knock him back for a few hours." The Master commented to himself gleefully before ridding the Doctor of his trousers and carrying on as the Doctor's mind tried to piece itself back together.

.

The first thing the Doctor was aware of was that the air was cool on the bare skin of his stomach. It took a minute for him to realize he never slept so that air even touched his stomach. It took him another couple of minutes to realize this meant something had changed. He sat up slowly and looked around carefully. He was in a room he didn't recognize and the Master was lying next to him, sleeping.

"I shouldn't be in a bed with the Master." The Doctor glanced down at himself. "And certainly not naked. Why am I here?"

Don't try to think.

"Um..." The Doctor trailed off, trying to locate the voice. "Not that I'm sure, but don't I normally think? I do like to use my mind. Probably."

I am your mind. And I'm repairing myself. There was an incident.

"And it caused me to hear voices. All right. Let's make sure every thing's working. Heart, check. Heart, check. Wait..."

Time Lord. Two Hearts.

"Right." The Doctor glanced at the Master who was lying next to him, fast asleep. "I'm just going to go to the console now. Does the TARDIS have a console?"

Yes it does. Just go out the door and down the hall, she'll bring it up for you. And grab some of your clothes off the floor.

The Doctor slipped out of bed, wincing at the pain in his lower body. "Will I need to bend down?"

Your pants are hanging off the foot of the bed. One of the Master's shirts is hanging off that chair, if you don't mind wearing his clothes.

The Doctor slipped the clothes on, wincing as he put the pants on, and quietly stepped out the door.

"So should I be mad, or...?" The Doctor asked after he realized he couldn't sit on the seat in front of the console. It hurt too much.

Yes, you should. But not at the moment, wait until I'm repaired. Try not to think about it.

"Easier said than done." The Doctor glanced down at the floor grating where he could see a barrel.

All right. I've just got to work on your short-term memory. Brace yourself and please try not to do something stupid.

"Brace myself for what?" The Doctor asked before gripping the TARDIS's console in shock as the memories surfaced violently. "Oh no."

Just stay calm and let me repair the rest. I left that off till the last possible moment, really.

"Stay calm!? I was raped." The Doctor stumbled around the console and quickly set coordinates to the last place they had been and bolted to the door.

Wait! You cannot leave the Master with this TARDIS! You haven't done anything to keep him from flying away.

"He can fly all he wants. Just as long as he's away from me." The Doctor replied as he reached for the handle.

He'll take over the Universe and then come after you. People will die.

"Well I can't stay here. Though you're right, he will find me." The Doctor's eyes fell on a pocket watch lying on the console.

Oh don't you dare.

"I'm sorry, but I have to get out and hide. It wouldn't be that hard to find a Time Lord. If I can blend in he won't be able to." The Doctor explained as he made the necessary adjustments to the TARDIS.

This isn't the answer. If you'd wait a few more minutes you'd see that. Let me finish repairing before you do anything else! I'm almost done. Just wait!

The Doctor wasn't listening as he recorded a message for the Master and spoke a few comforting words to his worried TARDIS.

"All right. Here we go." The Doctor took a deep breath as he slid the watch into place. His mind groaned.

Many things about this are not good.