The Master waited, tapping out the time on his wrist. Waited for the drug to do something. And really, even a seizure would have been a relief compared to this.

After a while he sighed again, a more comfortable sounding one this time, and relaxed into the cot. The drums were still there, but fading gradually into the background as his secondary headache dissipated. His fingers felt numb. Rassilon, it was wonderful.