Holes and Patches [OPEN FREE FOR ALL]

[leapoffayth.livejournal.com]

After the battle, the warriors' task was over. Their job, for now, was to rest and recover for the time being.

The healers' job, on the other hand, was far from over. Some exhausted from the battle, others rotating in, they took to their bay and continued the process of treating the wounded. Some patients were free to leave in a few minutes, while others would have some time (or quite some time) on the cots. Their mission: relax. Stay as still as possible.

Unfortunately, the temptation of so many familiar faces alive and about would ultimately prove to be too great. Keeping track of this group was going to be a third task all its own.

[this is a free for all for all your injured! Have them socialize, be thorns in the medics' side, try to escape, or bring the medics together for some action. Just note in your post if you'd like a medic to visit your character---if not, it's time for a chat!]

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[makeherblue]

The Doctor watches as the Master makes a very good attempt at propping himself up. He's handling himself surprisingly well, considering.

Then again, he always did have a thing keeping up appearances.

Instead of rising to the bait, the Doctor turns and sets the game of chess down. The Master knows where to hit, even if he's on good behavior, relatively speaking, and he supposes it's too much to ask for things to be the way they used to between them. As it is, this is probably better than normal. The Doctor seems to find the chess game interesting, his hands fluttering over it as he adjusts it and then adjusts it again before suddenly glancing back over at the Master.

"Did you see anything?" The Doctor suddenly veers far far into left field. "When the TARDIS shocked you?"

He peers at the Master as if he's just as fascinating as his favorite humans.

[syncopath]

While the Doctor fusses over the chess set, obviously flustered, the Master sits as still as possible. At the moment, he's too exhausted to really press the issue and far more concerned with tamping down futilely against the drums raging through his head. The bit of awkward silence is nice, in some ways. Infuriating in others; he wants the Doctor to sink to his level, petulant as it is.

"See anything?" he repeats blearily, with a small smirk. "My lives flashing before my eyes, all the regrets of days past, that sort of thing?"

[makeherblue]

The Doctor finally finishes with the chess set, moving to sit down next to the Master instead of moving away, all because a small part of him might be that petty and knows perfectly well that the Master would rather have some time alone. It's not a part of him he's proud of. The Doctor settles into the chair, fidgets, straightens his trousers, which are in much better shape than his tweed jacket, and fixes the Master with one of those looks only he gets.

"Something like that. Anything interesting, really," the Doctor leans forward. It's...odd to be sitting here speaking with the Master and not having to expect some sort of, say, creative attempt on his life.

Does he trust the Master? No, but he likes to think positive and so far the Master is behaving suspiciously well so far.

The Doctor laces his fingers together in his lap. "You were connected to both Stacy and the TARDIS," he points out. "Not something that comes along everyday."

Hmmm, I wonder if I should do something with that later

[syncopath]

He should have known, really. Just when the Master thinks the Doctor can't get any more irritating, he manages to surprise. The Master shrinks away carefully as the Doctor leans in, furrowing his brow as he tries to process the question. It's harder than it should be.

"Yes. Chance of a lifetime. I certainly took the time to realize that as I was being electrified. But I didn't see anything!" He stops, the drums pounding so hard and fast he can barely hear anything else, his hand balled into a fist. With a small, long-suffering sigh, the Master sinks back onto the cot.

Could be something! I didn't think of it until now

[makeherblue]

The Doctor fixes the Master with one of those looks. Maybe it's this regeneration or maybe it's trying to reconcile the fact that this isn't the same Master out there in the wasteland, but he's actually unsure how to read him. After all these centuries, all those lives. And now he can't tell if he's being sarcastic or showing genuine regret. The Doctor tilts his head as the other Time Lord slumps back, studying him like he would his companions.

The difference, however, is that the Master's anything but. He's dangerous. Even on his best behavior, the Doctor reminds himself that he's not some human he can amaze with a short hop to the Moon.

"Ah, my mistake," the Doctor says quietly. He laces and unlaces his fingers together in his lap, as if looking for something to do with his hands. He doesn't say anything for a moment, until it occurs him to ask. "Do you still hear them, by the way?"

He doesn't think he needs to specify what "them" is.

[syncopath]

Oh, he's regretting quite a bit right now. In the first place, not hiding in the TARDIS and letting the Doctor bear the brunt of his little plan. It could be him on this cot, and the Master torturing him with irritating small talk. No. He'd do worse. Much, much worse.

Entertaining the thought of just how he's going to repay the Doctor for this only gets him so far, though, before the questions start again. This time the Master chuckles almost lazily, his eyes closed. They're so loud, he's continually surprised that the other Time Lord can't hear it for himself.

"What do you think?" he spits out in a hiss.

[makeherblue]

Ah. He'd been hoping he wouldn't, what with a new universe. Now it's a signal leading to nowhere. An echo.

The Doctor has to fight not to look at the Master with pity. He knows how the man gets when he does that and it's more of a struggle than he'd like to keep looking politely disinterested when the fact of the matter is that the Doctor's...surprised. Yeah, that's basically it. A little bit shocked the Master hadn't left him in the TARDIS like that. The Doctor reaches up to brush his hair from his eyes, blowing out a big breath as he finally shrugged.

"Maybe it's possible to remove it out here," the Doctor frowns at the Master, not quite sure how he'll take it. At times he thinks the Master needs it. But then there's other times where he thinks maybe things might be different without the Time Lords' interference and he's still trying to sort out if it's worth that risk.

[syncopath]

The Master's eyes snap open in alarm and he fixes the Doctor with a warning look.

"You can't." It doesn't sound so much like an estimation of the Doctor's abilities as some sort of command. Or plea. But he catches himself quickly after, flashing a cheeky smile he doesn't quite feel.

"'Remove' them? Why in the name of Rassilon would I ever want that?"

[makeherblue]

The Doctor can think of loads of reasons. The fact that the Master even asks, however, says all it needs to.

"Because it's dull? I don't see how you don't get tired of it," the Doctor goes on, eyes on the Master. Probing. He offers a smile of his own in return. "Rubbish way to pass the time."

At this point he can't say they don't exist. Not after that…moment, Thing, whatever you wanted to call it in that wasteland a lifetime ago. Thinking about what it felt to be connected to the Master and hear that drumming? Not something he cares to remember in too much detail.

[syncopath]

"Of course you'd say that." The Master stares right back at the Doctor stubbornly, with more than a little disdain. "They're not for you, after all."

Oh, no. The Doctor will never be worthy of his sort of destiny. He's proved that well enough when he couldn't even hear them. No, the drums are for the Master and the Master alone.

[makeherblue]

A part of the Doctor, one of those little dark, ugly parts, is privately glad those horrid drums weren't for him. He's not proud of the feeling but there it is. That one brush he had with them in the Master's head? It's not exactly something he could forget.

"I know they're not," the Doctor retorts and then regrets that because right the different hair, the general lack of glowy...skeleton-ness. Oops. The Doctor tries to recover because if they sort the Ohm business (and they will), time might snap back and the Master has the end of time and Rassilon's nasty sanction to look forward to. "I can't picture you sitting here with the humans for very long. Might do you some good."

As subject changes go, it's not the most brilliant, but the other option is telling the Master "by the way, you'll end up in the time lock", so there's that.

[syncopath]

Luckily, the Master is as of yet blissfully unaware of his fate. Even his natural suspicion of the Doctor and his abrupt subject change is muted somewhat by both his current disorientation and the fact that, yes, the Doctor has finally agreed with him about his place in the universe. Or at least that's how he sees it.

The dig about the humans, though, earns the Doctor a sigh, commingled disgust and sheer weariness.

"Did you want something in particular, or have you just come to make awkward small talk? Oh, wait. I've got it-- you've come to thank me, surely, for saving your collection of useless apes."

[makeherblue]

"Well," the Doctor deflates, "I suppose it's rather obvious, isn't it?" And because he knows in part it'll annoy the Master and also because he means it, he adds: "But yeah. Thank you. For saving those so-called 'apes' and yourself."

Not that it was a question whether or not the Master would try to save his own skin, but that doesn't change the fact he played a large part in saving the rest of the crew on Stacy back there. The Doctor appreciates it all the same. Odd, isn't it? Appreciating things the Master's done aside from the odd bit of bizarre creativity or a coat the Doctor finds incredibly interesting. Him! Saving humans, even incidentally!

Between that and what he would do in the future, the Doctor can't even be sure what foot he's on right now. Ever had that feeling of tripping up a set of stairs? It's exactly like that.

The Doctor moves to get to his feet, finally deciding to give the other Time Lord some privacy.

"That's all I had to say, actually," he says with a quiet, tight smile to himself.

Oh god what am I doing to him.

[syncopath]

It does rankle, just as much as the Doctor hoped. The Master graces him with another glare, eyes snapping with hatred. Only some of which is electrically induced.

"Wonderful. Off you go, then," he snaps pointedly. "About time for my pain medication, anyhow." And he digs out one of the hyposprays he lifted from a passing medcart, pressing it to his neck.