kore_logs | A Meeting of the Minds

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A Meeting of the Minds

Who: the Master, the Doctor
Where: Mina's house
When: Day 83
What: A mentally unstable Doctor requests the aid from an old friend.
Warnings: None yet, but plenty of Time Lord angst

Mina was awfully trusting to keep the Doctor at her house, but the truth was, he wasn't able to be on his own. The impulse headaches weren't stopping, and his head pounded, like his skull was being cracked open so very slowly. He couldn't focus on any particular thought very long, and his regenerations and time lines blurred faster than riding a bullet train.

The scientists hadn't taken lightly of the Doctor's attempt at escaping, and he couldn't decide if it was out of retaliation or fear, that they explored his mind. He couldn't remember details or anything that happened, and he wasn't sure if he even wanted to.

Skin hot and feverish, he waited until Donna had gone away to send a message with the little energy he could muster to hold onto his sanity. "I need... I need to see you... now." He hoped he sent it to the right person -- or correctly -- Time Lord.

For a while he paced the room, but the pain continued to defeat him, where he stayed in the corner of the room, bent over on his knees, short nails digging into his scalp. He would find him. The Master always, annoyingly enough, found him. The Doctor just hoped he wouldn't ignore him, as he was his only hope of settling this.

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The Master moved further into the room and stood in front of the Doctor. If they were doing this, they were doing it now to get it over and done with. He seemed pretty together, he hadn't felt his body failing yet today. Better do it now than waiting for some new fuck up. "Open your mind and I'll open mine. We'll see how this goes, Doctor, but no promises."

He didn't so much need to touch the Doctor to do this, he'd long since honed his skills. It was all up to the Doctor if he needed that contact to do this. Closing his eyes, he opened his mind and pushed as much as he could behind the barriers. Only the drums seeped through, beating at the same old pace.

The Doctor's mouth opened, but nothing was uttered, only a silent cry as he felt the link open between the two Time Lords. The drums were certainly there, pounding and reverberating through everything he knew. Each dormant regeneration of his could hear them and it made everyone so angry.

Broken memories swarmed and leaked from every crack, like loud radio noise as the Doctor edged his way towards where the Master had to be. And exactly like radio noise, the Doctor's form flickered through various regenerations, never lingering longer than a minute before fading into another version. Despite being determined, when the Doctor finally held on to his form, he would be only a boy, desperate eyes focused upon the Master.

"Make it stop!"

The start of a mental link was always rough, a lot of noise and static, a struggle to latch onto some level of stability. The Master waded through the massive amount of awkward and loud angst, trying to find the Doctor. It was rather messy in here but nothing he hadn't seen, considering his own mind. Oh this was childs play.

But it wasn't reassuring. This was the Doctor, a man he considered relatively held together. All things considered, he'd seen him as someone who could remain sane in the worst of times. To see him this in pieces was a slight shock to the system. It was wrong.

"How?" the Master snapped to the -- child? Theta. It hurt to even look at him. Hence why he didn't make eye contact, merely looked around the harsh swarm of memories and noise. "I'm not a miracle worker! Just -- try to think of something and grasp onto it. Think of something that matters to you, the current you."

Gallifrey mattered. The stars mattered. As much as he didn't want to admit it, the Master mattered. The TARDIS mattered. Rose Tyler... He left her on the beach with the meta-crisis. All he cared about was her happiness, even if it couldn't be himself to give it. She had a part of him that could give her everything she wanted, and that was good enough for him.

His physical formed rippled and changed into his current regeneration, a long skinny streak of nothing, as Donna had said. "Push them back; seal the cracks," He spoke with a weak voice, answering the Master's previous question. "I think... I think if we can just do that, it'll be enough."

Once the Doctor looked more like himself again, the Master levelled him a look, hoping he was capable of keeping himself more together. Someone here had to be together and banking on him to do it wasn't likely. He didn't want to have to be the sane one, that really wasn't a good look for him.

"Well I can't do this alone, you know? Put your back into it," the Master shot back as he looked around the shattered memories, all colliding into each other. Each regeneration seemed to of splintered and half the memories, he didn't know. It was a little hard to organise events when he had been there. "You know, Doctor, I had no idea you were this screwed up. It's oddly refreshing."

He knew it wasn't permanent or consistent but it allowed him some brief gloating abilities. "It's quieter here... is this what a normal mind is like? Take away the drums and it's all memories, feelings and thoughts?"

"I'm not this screwed up!" The Doctor retaliates, his anger causing a ripple effect in the memories surrounding them. His body flickers, threatening to change once again, which forces him to breathe deeply - inhale and exhale.

"Right..." He pauses as the drums start to pound around him louder, causing him to cup his ears to try and ignore it. "We need to sort these out before you cause me to go mental!"

The Doctor stumbled off in one direction, hoping the Master would take the hint of following him through their first patch of memories.

"Even if we put aside your whole issue with someone tampering in your head, this place is quite the mess on it's own. Each regeneration is so different-- did you ever have yourself tested for a disorder? You probably should of. Consistency would be nice in here," All of the Master's had followed a similar pattern, most seemed to in his experience. But the Doctor was so radically different and each personality seemed to be fighting through the cracks to get out. All separate men.

No wonder he was so confused. This place was a headache even the Master didn't want. He followed the Doctor along, peering about to try to see some sense or order in the information he was getting.

He did, however, pause with a slight smirk on his face as a bunch of memorises flew by them, little flickers of information that lit up at their presence. And they told quite the story. "You fell in love with some blond thing, didn't you?-- Oh, you are pathetic sometimes. Tell me she wasn't human?"

The Doctor shoots him a steely gaze, full of warning, or so he hoped. "Don't start this with me. Don't you dare start!" Rose Tyler would always be an open wound to him, and he cherished those memories with her perhaps more than any other memories combined.

And taking this a step further, he turns and gets in the Master's space, as if the metaphorical feathers on his back were fluffing up to assert dominance, "I've asked you to help me, because you're the only one who possibly can. I didn't bring you here to insult me my memories, because I'm quite confident I could do the same in return. And don't pretend that Lucy didn't didn't mean a single thing to you, despite the manipulations you played on that poor girl."

His memories flickered and crashed around them, colliding and entangling within each other. "Now are you going to help me, or continue to insult me?"

The Master happily invaded the Doctor's personal space, getting closer than the Doctor seemed to dare and grabbing his jacket tight. It was strange how he could feel the fabric, perhaps he was really grabbing the Doctor in reality? It was strange how things worked in a mental link. "I'm going to keep insulting you because I can. You begged me for help, you let me in and I'm not leaving. Deal with it. I mean really, Doctor, how could you ever stop me?"

And, with that, he shoved the Doctor away from in as roughly as he could. After being mocked by this man, he felt like he'd earned a little bit of revenge. And in what universe was he ever someone worth to call upon for help.

The Master stormed off ahead, throwing memories off and about into where they should be, forcing his way through the chaos and mess. "If you continue to talk down to me like that, I will find the worst memories I can and mix them all up. Bring them to the surface and let you relive every moment," he came to a halt ahead of the Doctor and spun around, facing him with a confrontation glare. "I deserve respect for even being here to help you. If I want to make jokes, I'll make jokes because we both know it could be a lot worse."

He's unstable in his mind and his feet; the Doctor lands hard on his backside, where he remains for a moment. Fingers entangle in hair that felt much different than he recognized. Curls. There were long curls as he realized he wasn't able to grasp onto his current regeneration, as he was clearly in his Eighth.

Scrubbing at his face, he's trying his best to once again recall who exactly he was. "The Time Lord lives far to long. Why is that? Why must we?" He muses philosophically as he sits up and watches the Master walk around, poking around various memories. "Is your mind just as unstable? Those drums..."

"You wouldn't last five minutes in my mind without losing yours in the process," the Master muttered with a distinct and obvious lack of caring. He was more interested in watching what little glimpses of the Time War floated by. The Doctor looked like the man of that time now, it was both unsettling and interesting. There was so much he didn't know about the Doctor yet he was sure the Doctor knew most his definitive moments. The ones that changed his life anyway.

"Let's file these away as 'Time War' and try not to look too much into them. I hardly need you falling into PTSD mindset while I'm stuck in here," he had enough of that himself, thanks. No need to make the crazy Time Lord crazier. It would never bode well.

As he strolled ahead, he came to a halt at one particular memory and pulled a face. "Oh dear Omega, tell me I didn't look like this?" The early days of the Eighth regeneration had not been the Master's finest hour but he so didn't suit those stupid Time Lord robes. Dress for the occasion? Yeah right. Shoving it hastily aside, he moved onwards and tried not to focus on it. "And you're worried about your mind. This place hardly reflects me in the best light, all I see is defeats or embarrassing moments. Couldn't remember any of my victories?"

No, he'd much prefer to forget the Time War. If the Master knew a way to abolish memories, he'd gladly accept it in that case.

Right... What had the Master said earlier? Recall something that mattered? Focusing on something other than Rose, he faded back to his current self before returning to his feet. Already, he could feel some parts of his timeline beginning to make sense, but then it was difficult to keep them there.

"We need to move faster." if this is going to work, he mentally finished his sentence before following him.

Coming up behind him, and with a hand on his shoulder, he halts a moment's organization, "Wrong order." And changes it himself before moving past him. Right, he could do this...

"Really? You're rushing me to be quicker at ordering over a thousand years of memories?" He was clearly not impressed, this wasn't some slap-dash job he could do in a minute or two. He actually had to sort these and reorder them. It was beyond a headache, especially when the order was not something he was overly aware of. No wonder the Doctor had to tweak him.

"How far back are we going anyway? I can only go till-- the third, was it? That's the last one I remember vividly. You can handle Gallifrey alone, I'm sure," the Master dismissed, not wanting to even get into that mine field. Why would he want too? Gallifrey was a distant memory now, ruined and twisted horribly.

As far as he was concerned, he preferred the war scenes. Seeing them suffer suited him just fine, he could watch it all day.

"If we don't move faster, I won't be able to keep things in place." He glances back at the Master, once again, his body threatening to fade into another regeneration, but he manages to stop it.

He pauses at some memories shared with Susan, and he watches them fondly. He made a horrible father, that much he knew, and regretted that it took to Susan to show him that. As much as he hated to admit it, she taught him so much.

Quickly he pushes them to one direction and moves forward and catches a glimpse of when he and the Master were on the cheetah planet. Now that was a disaster if he ever did see one.

"Like I said, you just collect my worst moments and keep them all stored here. I have yet to see a single thing about the Valiant. I was great there, very good, I was winning. I should of won," he muttered more to himself than anything as he moved his way through the flurry of memories, trying to find the point of distress. Something had to of caused this level of damage.

Find the cause, solve the problem. The Doctor was right, they had to be fast. And the Master didn't know how much longer he could cope surrounded by this much Doctorness. "You're feeling sad. Nostalgic. I can feel it too, like I'm empathising. It's making me sick."

Not actually but he legitimately didn't like it. He never was comfortable when emotions were a part of anything. As he waded through a load of Rani related memories, he tried his best not to get dragged in. He had to focus on his mission, to do it and get out before anything went wrong. He couldn't even place why he was doing this, he just knew he had too. In the end, the Master didn't want to be alone.

Sadly, the unfortunate side-effect of being in someone's mind is that when he thought on other topics himself, it brought forth memories as well. Or it tried to. Memories of his own were struggling to get through the barrier now, it was starting to get dangerous and he focused on not letting his mind drift too much. "My barriers are shifting, I don't know how long I can keep them up. If they break, we have to stop. I'm not risking it."

"Imagine that! You! Capable of feelings! I thought that stopped when you were 40." They were terrible schoolmates sometimes, though that never stopped them from being around each other constantly.

But the next few words from the Master bothered him as they were making progress. The Doctor's anxiety and piercing headaches were finally easing, and even though the Doctor knew he wouldn't be healed 100% after this visit, it would at least be close enough where he could manage it on his own. Hell, even 50% improvement would be welcomed. "Then stay close, and we'll do our best, yeah?"

He moved forward, shifting through another mixed cluster of memories and separating them... Jo Grant leaving, Ace talking about something or other, his first meeting with Leela.

It had to have been coming close to an hour, shifting through things, and the Doctor felt stronger and more mentally stable than he had previously. He estimated things had been mostly organized, but he grew a little concerned for the Master, "If you need to stop..." The Doctor moves over to him, looking him over, "This is eating away at you, isn't it?"

"I think it was actually 95 that I stopped," the Master shot back as he swiftly weaved in and out of the Doctor's mind. There was a definite rift in his mind, a wound that was oozing out confusion and skittering about all the memories into each other. It was a trauma that lead to this whole mess, a scar on the inside of his mind. Rather painful actually.

As the Doctor got better, the Master got considerably worse. Trying to repair one mind and keep the other at bay was a strain to his senses but he refused to retreat this early. The drums were getting loud, making everything near vibrate from the bass of them.

"It must be nice, mustn't it? All you have to do is move around and have a little spring cleaning and the wounds lessen. It's so easy, so very easy. Stupidly easy," the Master spat with bitterness as he came to a halt near the centre, flickers of Gallifrey swimming by. All of their youth and better times. How he loathed knowing that he could never feel that level of happiness again. "Have you noticed the pattern yet? Cause I have just looking at your memories. You're always fine in the end, no matter what. But me? No, I don't get that. I just lose. In every way."

He forced his barriers back once more, moving away from the Doctor. Just a bit more and he could retreat. Blissfully at that. "It's not fair. None of this is. You don't deserve these memories, you're no better than me. Why do you get to be happy?"

"Because I choose to be, in the end," The Doctor quickly shoved back memories away as they attempted to collide with them. The drums had become much louder, he couldn't deny that as even he had to raise his voice to make it past the noise. "I once had a friend tell me that pain and loss define us as much as happiness or love. I believe she was right." Hands were placed on either side of the Master's shoulders.

"But I choose to see the positive aspect of the universe and give its creations the benefit of the doubt. Despite all the wrong against me. Including this, I have people to live for." He bent down slightly, leveling him to the Master, "I think I can handle the rest from here. You better leave before your own barriers crumble. I don't know whether I can fix that if that were to happen."

"You get to chose though. Options are closed to men like me. I'd say you'd understand but obviously you don't," the Master pulled away from the Doctor, glaring stubbornly at the resolving mind. He'd fixed it, he knew how to help any Time Lord heal themselves-- but why couldn't he just fix his own? Couldn't it just be that simple? Sometimes, it just seemed like the universe was conspiring.

"I'm defined by the drums. They've shaped everything I am or could of ever been," the Master informed the Doctor, life wasn't just as simple with this mayhem inflicted on his mind. "Though honestly? I think being without the drums wouldn't even make me a better person. Perhaps I was always just doomed to be alone and bitter. The signs were there from the start."

With a slight nod, the Master knew that retreating was the wise move here. Why stick around when neither of them would be able to cope if he was to accidentally lose his hold on the barriers. And yet he didn't seem to be leaving. "I wonder how bad the damage would be if I just let go. Would we both be in eternal agony-- or would we feel nothing after such a psychic trauma?"

"It would be catastrophic." The Doctor knew the Master wouldn't do it, he still had a light grasp of sanity.... didn't he? The Doctor had previously stated he didn't think he would be able to fix it. Correction: He wouldn't be able to, plain and simple. There would be no coming back from the damage, no hope of recovery, not even from a self induced healing coma or regeneration. If Mina and Donna thought the Doctor was bad now, they wouldn't be able to recognize him if this were to happen.

"Don't even play with the idea, you run the risk of actually doing it." The Master had always been stronger and better than him when it came to the touch-telepathy, and in his weakened state, it was even harder for him to have a decent grasp of his power. Right now, even he couldn't push the Master out, he would have to leave on his own. "You helped me - that alone shows you not all is lost and hopeless."

The Master rotated his neck in a circle, clearly taking a brief moment to contemplate it. Perhaps he wouldn't do it but the knowledge that he had all the power here? Well, that was the boost he needed. With a slight smile on his face, the Master stood there and embrace what little moment he may have had, capable of crushing both of them if he must. It was a good back up plan if he should ever find himself needing them both gone.

"I suppose I shouldn't. Future generations might look upon me as moronic for not taking this chance to stop us both but-- well, what would the universe be without us there to ruin it?" the Master pointed out as he closed his eyes and let himself pull back. It seemed a wise enough plan. He best leave before he got any worse.

"You're lucky I'm in a good humour," Was all he offered before he began to retreat, his body fading from the Doctor's view. When he next opened his eyes, he'd be back in the room.

Dark eyes slowly opened, and the Doctor was remained sitting on the bed. Everything felt fuzzy initially, but then... a remote sense of clarity. He still wasn't 100%, but that will hopefully come with time. But now he could at least recognize what regeneration he was without having to think extensively about it.

"You did it." The Doctor commented softly, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn't feel like clawing at his skull for the first time since coming back, and perhaps could finally function like normal. It was somewhat ironic, given he had come back just the previous day, but the insanity was unbearable. He couldn't imagine if he hadn't contacted the Master any sooner, what he'd be like.

Probably a bit like the Master. And the universe didn't need two of them. The Master gripped his head in his hands, hissing in pain. Keeping those barriers up did a number on his head, it was kind of like that time he tried to down more hyper-vodkas than Drax and ended up vomiting the whole evening and spending the morning with a splitting headache.

A hangover without actually having some fun. Just what he needed.

"Good for you. Enjoy the sanity," the Master remarked with a slight roll of his eyes. The dolt was all well and good again, he supposed this favour would be forgotten during his next little 'mistake'. That was how they worked. "You could pay me back by getting some food now. Least you can do."

"Lie down. I'll go see what I can find." The Doctor stands up, but had to catch the Master before toppling over. He had been without food for so long, his body was not taking kindly to the change. The Master may have noticed he was thinner than before.

"It'll be a moment, but I'm sure I can find something." He spoke with false confidence given tea and whatever Donna had baked was really their only option. It wasn't like Mina needed to cook.

And his fingers slowly released from the Master's arm as he took a few steps towards the door, his strength coming back with each step. Would it be ironic that he felt ancient and this whole mess had taken alot out of him?

The Master caught up with the Doctor, heaving a sigh of annoyance at how stupid this man was. If he didn't stick by him, he might accidentally kill himself. Wouldn't it be bloody typical if he fixed the Doctor just for him to trip over, bash his head and regenerate. "Lets not totally undo my hard work for some lunch. We'll go together."

He didn't reach out to steady him, he just walked near him as a potential steadier. Really, he was a little busy trying to calm his headache. The drums so weren't helping that matter either.

"Find me something quick to eat then go sleep. I'm sure I can amuse myself from here on out, I'm shockingly good at that."

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