Timeline: after the «Death in Heaven».
Music: «So close» by Olafur Arnalds feat. Arnor Dan.

"You lied."

A deliberate heels clicking on the smooth floor of the console room sends cold shivers down — and I can't practically understand if that's because of hatred, anger or disappointment. Or it's all together.

"If you like to think so."

I stay clenching and unclenching my fists. I close my eyes — just for a moment — as though making a vain attempt to get back at least a little bit of my self-control. But it doesn't work.

"You like it, right, don't you?" my voice sounds like I'm spitting out words through clenched teeth. But who cares anymore. I turn around and look in the light, almost limpid eyes of my old friend that I used to consider an enemy for so long ago. "You like to torture me."

She lifts one of her eyebrows and smiles with a so-well-known smile of hers that has not a speck of frankness but hidden aims and ambitions.

"I won't deny that it has its particular pleasure."

I step forward with a dash as if I'm not going to stop, if I want my fingers to close down around her neck even for a blink, squeezing, before I would tremble and let her go, terrified by what I'm able to do.

"Go on, Doctor," she grins. "I see how much do you want it."

I rub my face with a palm, feeling my eyes inflamed as though salt poured though dry.

"Why?"

I look at her, giving a heavy stare from under eyebrows, the state of which seems to wear unchanging mourning like both of my hearts.

"Because I need you, Doctor. Because I knew, that was the only way to make you listen to me."

So much suffering crosses her face, so much anguish is in her eyes. The Master has been always such a good actor and all of his faces knew the art of deception perfectly.

"I don't lie."

"You lied already. Like a million times before."

I turn away from her. To not see. To not feel so sharply the pain mixing with the need of letting her stay.

"Do you remember, you asked me to travel with you then, on Valiant. You were cuddling my dying body and crying, Doctor—"

"Shut up!" shout fades away without leaving any echo that could get lost in TARDIS's corridors. "So many deaths! So much senseless killing, why?! To create me an army? To make me believe that we—"

"—are not so different, love," she ends the sentence, approaching me with soft steps like a big cat. "Thete—"

"How can you call me that name?"

The bitterness raising inside of me burns me like an acid. I'm tired of looking for the answers, I'm tired of listening to lies, I'm tired of blaming myself. She embraces me slowly, pressing her cheek to my shoulder. As though enveiling my mind with hers, touching it in a shy attempt to meld.

"I didn't lie to you."

"I was there."

"And saw nothing?"

"Nothing except the void."

TARDIS is humming as to proving my words — the control panel is still not adjusted completely.

"You just don't know how to seek, love."

I feel another burst of raising rage. Gallifrey has meant always too much — too much to admit such a possibility.

"Oh, yes, I do."

I detach myself from her embrace, meeting an injured look and another melodramatic attitude from the Master's favourite list.

"But sure not so well as I do."

Incomprehension shines through my eyes. I'm too tired to guess.

"Why?"

The Master stops to attitudinize and returns me a straight stare, giving a hope that at least something among all that was said is true.

"Because I found you, Doctor."