All translations, explanations, advertisements, and thought processes are at the end of the chapter.

Disclaimer: All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I don't own them.

Dressing yourself up to kill
You do this for peace, you do this for love
But you know there has to be loss

-Sacrifice by Silverstein

When the barrel of the gun first pointed at him, the Master could only feel a sense of mild amusement and a small portion of surprise. There wasn't any fear, because the Doctor wouldn't-couldn't!-shoot him. The Doctor didn't have it in him. He never would. So when the gun turned away from him, the Master only felt satisfaction, not relief. He expected it to, because it always did.

The Doctor would never try to kill him.

This fact was as dependable as the drums, one of the few consistencies in the Master's life. The only consistency he really cared for and took for granted. Constantly. He never saw it coming; the Doctor turning the gun back on him with such a look of despair and desperation. Now, the Master knew, the Doctor could kill him. His brown eyes held fear-the Doctor was afraid, but the finger was still firmly on the trigger.

And the gun didn't tremble.

The Master stared down the barrel of the gun, into those terrified brown eyes behind it, and did the nothing. In that long, silent moment that followed, the Master didn't speak, didn't plead or lie or curse or shout or-heaven forbid-cry, but he didn't need to. His face said it all. He was frustrated, a bit angry, and...and hurt.

The Doctor didn't care about him anymore and was going to kill him.

There was a stinging sensation in his chest, and it wasn't from a bullet. He felt sad, the idea hurt, this new fact hurt, everything hurt. The Master now knew what the Doctor must've felt like all those times when it was him who was holding that gun, that laser screwdriver, that key to the Doctor's demise. In that moment, that brief moment, the Master felt something akin to heartbreak.

A feeling he hadn't felt since the first time the Doctor abandoned him in favor of exploring the rest of the universe instead. Although, the Master probably would have described it as betrayal instead of heartbreak. At that moment, if he could, the Master probably would have managed to feel sympathy and genuine remorse for all the wrong he had done up until that time, but he didn't. Only a slight regret in his actions but nothing more; anymore and he wouldn't be himself, he wouldn't be the Master.

In that moment, the Master had deflated and waited for his life to end. The Doctor-the Master thought-had no love for him anymore, and he didn't blame the other time lord. The Master didn't love himself either, he hated both himself and the drums the most. In fact, the Master had hated pretty much everything and everyone, even Lucy, especially Lucy, after the ritual. But if it was any consolation prize to the Doctor after everything the Master put him though, the Master hated him the least; the closest to love that the Master would probably ever get in this state of mind.

"Get out of the way."

The Master's hearts stopped and even the drums paused for a fraction of second in their constant ta-ta-ta-taping. Relief flooded his senses but surprise quickly drowned it out along with a TARDIS-load of many other unidentifiable emotions. The Doctor didn't kill him? The Doctor still cared? The Doctor still felt love for him? Even now?

The Master felt elated and a smile unconsciously flitted across his face. A brief, beautiful, genuine smile that belonged to another man, another person that had been all but snuffed out by the oppression of the drums over the centuries.

The Doctor fired his gun making the white-point star shatter to pieces in a bright flash. The drums shrieked in his mind, outraged, making the Master stumble in pain. They reached a crescendo before flickering on and off, fading and returning...as if they were losing the signal. In one of the moments when the drums were fading, the Master heard Rassilon's furious scream, "You'll die with me, Doctor!"

And with two simple words, the Master shattered.

"I know."

And the fool stood there, waiting for death.

It was unacceptable. The Master would not survive without the Doctor. He needed the Doctor. The Doctor couldn't die, the Master refused. He would...he would die before he allowed the Doctor to unnecessarily sacrificing himself-again-like the idiot he pretended not to be. The Doctor could survive in the case of the Master's death.

The Doctor had people.

The Doctor had friends.

The Doctor had ones who loved him.

The Master only had the person who was about to go kill himself and then the Master would have no one.

He would be alone, once again, with only the drums for company.

He would not survive, let alone the rest of the universe.

Which ever option the Master chose, it would end in death. At least if he died this way, he would still have that little bit of himself that still managed to survive the ravages of insanity all those years. Plus-if the Master was truly honest with himself-this would be the less painful death. The Master hated pain, this was purely a selfish decision, not because he actually cared for the fool of a time-lord, who was almost as bad as the stupid apes that the Doctor continuously chose for companions.

At least, that was what he told himself when he chose the option that would save the Doctor.

"Get out of the way," the Master snarled and the Doctor gaped at him, stunned. Rassilon didn't resist him as the Master forced his life energy out into bolts of electricity into the elder time lord's body. As the portal began to shrink, it started to try to drag the hosts and the Master into it. The Master allowed himself a glance at the Doctor.

The fear was still there, along with horror and a terrible sadness. As the Master looked at him, the Doctor stared back in protest to the Master's actions, worried for the Master's safety. There were too many unfamiliar emotions he was feeling all at once to sort anything concrete out. But the Master knew that he didn't want the Doctor to die. Not now, not today, not while he could do something about it.

The light was blinding, the pull of gravity immense. He saw the Doctor-rather than heard him-scream, "No!" He saw the Doctor reach for him to no success. He saw the Doctor look of such loss, utter loneliness, and a terrible sadness. But most importantly, the Master saw that the portal had left the Doctor alone and he remained standing in his spot, unaffected by the portal.

And so, the Master fell through the portal as Lord of his fate and thought it...Good.

To Be Continued...

Thought Process:

All right, the next chapter is all original except for the Doctor Who cannon tidbits, but otherwise, it's mine. It's going to take place in a parallel universe, much like Pete's world. The difference there is the Doctor is a female (and so was that universe's Master, but that will all be taken care of later).

I'm thinking about put a poll up.

Do you want all the male to be females and vice versa in that universe (like Rose becoming Ross and Donna becoming Donald excetra, excetra...) or do you want the only change in gender being the parallel Doctor and the parallel Master (who will become the Mistress)?

The original Master will stay the same gender, of course.

Give me your feedback so I know which direction to take this story!

Happy Friday,

FFA, the Fan Fictional Authoress

Date Submitted: Friday, September 6, 2013.