Going HomeThis isnt exactly what I imagined when you suggested fighting across the constellations. The Master said, gazing out at the broad expanse of universe surrounding them. The two Time Lords lay suspended in the TARDIS protection field, on an asteroid, a few scorch marks its final testimony to the planet it had burst from only moments ago. In the light of the supernova they talked like old friends and old enemies, because what's the need for titles after all they had been through? They were themselves, and each other, and the last. The Master turned.Why did you do it? Images of The Doctor racing back and forth, cradling the bleeding time lord to his chest. Into the TARDIS, smash controls, keep him breathing until you get to god-knows-where.Im The Doctor. Cheeky. And you very well know why.Its nice to hear.I need you. Just as much as you need me.A beat.You knew it was me,
Words That We Couldn't SayWords That We Couldn't SayVicious' long fingers wrapped around the neck of the vodka bottle, bringing it to his pale lips for another swig. He was dimly aware of his surroundings, that he was laying half-frozen on a moth-eaten bed in some slummy motel. The icy Callistan wind bit brutally from the open window, but Vicious didn't care. Didn't care if he died, alone, in this rat-infested hell hole. In fact he hoped for it.He took another swig.The syndicate had disbanded. The organization he'd pledged his life to was gone. Gone, in an instant. In a blink of an eye, the past fifteen years of his life meant nothing. There was nothing left for him now.He took another swig.Vicious didn't really know why he came to Callisto. He'd driven here on emotional autopilot after he'd gotten the news of the Syndicate. He dimly supposed it was because the last time he was here was the last time he'd actually felt.GrenůVicious grimaced. That name brought up feelings better left unsaid.