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Drums in a pattern of four beating relentlessly in his head, a rhythm that mismatched with the beating of his own hearts. There was nothing synchronized for him. If he were to be so lucky, the noises would stop, but he knew better. He always knew better. The only way to stop it was death and he wasn't strong enough to even do that. Still the invitation of it was understandably inviting. If he could merely find a way to end his life were he didn't cause harm to the one other creature in the universe worthy of his time, he would. By Gallifrey, he would. He would end up hurting him, that was simply beyond his control.
He needed help, he presumed. He needed someone to fix him. Someone who knew him, and could even be a friend.
As his anxiety rose, the volume of the drums had as well, shaking his whole body in the repeated beat. His hands covered his ears and his jaw clenched. He needed a Doctor. Unfortunate tears pricked his eyes, the pain in his head becoming unbearable, nauseating. He had curled in on himself, reverting back into a scared child. He sunk to the ground, shaking hands covering his ears to silence the sound in his head. Maybe this was it, this was the end for himself and he would simply implode.
In his agony he didn't hear the familiar sound of the TARDIS landing only across the street from where he was hunkered down.
The distress call had incredibly specific and odd coordinates, but that never stopped the Doctor before. He was there to help, no matter where it was. He set the coordinates and rushed there, easing the TARDIS to land on the rainy streets of London. He rushed outside the doors, unsure of what he was looking for, then it hit him. He stumbled back at the force of the energy seeping from the small alleyway behind a closed book store. He stabilized himself for only a moment before he started across the street. There was name in his head. One person who could do that, and he needed to see them. He followed the energy until he saw the source, a shell of an already broken man.
It could have easily been a trap, but the Doctor was always an optimist. He didn't speak, just gently kneeled down next to the other Time Lord. He understood in that moment that the distress call was a result of the Master's own horrible suffering. He slowly wrapped an arm around the other, an action not done in ages. “What happened to you?” He whispered, his voice drenched in sorrow. He hadn't seen this in a long time, and it tugged at his hearts.
The Master stilled, a voice leading him away from the drums. When he was finally pulled from his thoughts to see a savior, the dingy street lights outside the alley bathing the Doctor in a golden light. His mouth opened, then quickly closed again. He was unsure where to go from here. Finally, he decided to breathe out a soft denial of the face in front of him. It simply wasn't possible. “You're not… You can't,” he struggled for the proper words before he settled with, “I hate you.” Of course, he hadn't meant the words, but they were the only thing that came to mind, and of course he felt bad, but that change nothing.
“No you don't.” The Doctor smiled. He was gentle in his demeanor, but cautious. He knew that the other was not above playing injured to get what he wanted. He slowly stood up, sticking his hand out. “Come on then.”
“What are you doing?”
His smile faltered slightly at the scoff before he stuck his hand out again. “Well, I can't help you out here.” It was not his intention to pick up a companion, especially not the Master, but his plans always end up changing. Sometimes for the better. “This isn't a trick.” He sighed, pushing his hand a little closer.
There was hesitancy, then a flash of mistrust before the Master stood up onto his own feet, pushing the hand away. He felt sorrow when he touched the other Time Lord, he quickly decided to never touch him again. “Alright, Doctor. Fix me.” He raised an eyebrow when he was lead to the TARDIS, and then even invited on board. He wasn't sure what trick was being pulled. Or maybe the Doctor was simply that stupid. He stood behind the other, reading the little sticky notes in Gallifreyan all over the center console. Some of the notes were simple; coordinations, fake aliases, and a few ways to fix certain issues with the TARDIS. Other notes were darker; some reminding him that it was okay to miss whoever “they” were, or that it wasn't his fault, but there was one that seemed to have been scrawled in English. “Don't leave us?” He echoed the words, earning a jump.
“Don't read those!” The Doctor turned from what he was doing to try and push the other away from the center counsel. “Don’t read another man's notes!” He scolded, panic and shame written on his face. “They don’t concerned you.” He muttered quickly after, setting the directions and flying them off. He seemed tense after the outburst, like he had shared something he shouldn't have. The air quickly became heavy between them, and he hated it. He decided that his embarrassment didn't matter in this moment. “What happened, Koschei?” He finally whispered, his round eyes falling across the pathetic man in front of him. He saw the way the other stiffened at the use of the name, but didn't attempt to correct himself.
The Master wanted to mad, he wanted to be furious at the use of his name. He wanted to have the rage to rip the Doctor's head right off his shoulders, but he couldn't muster the feelings. He was scared, he felt so small. “It's so loud, Doctor. It doesn't stop.” His voice broke, and a tear spilled down his cheek. He wanted out. He wanted to hold Theta. He wanted to hit something. He wanted everything. “It never stops.” He forced. His fingers curling into his palms and digging his fingers in. He refused to break in front of his sworn enemy, but his creeping thoughts said otherwise. Maybe the Time Lord in front of him wasn't an enemy? Was never an enemy? “I just want it to be quiet.” His voice was barely over a strained whisper at this point. The drums started to get louder again, rising in volume when his pain rose. His jaw clenched to prepare for the upcoming sound, the pain.
He felt a hand clasp on his shoulder, and once again felt a new wave of despair wash over him. He quickly was pulled into a tight embrace, the Master reciprocating the action soon after. The hug said everything they couldn't. It held the gentle whisperings of forgiveness, and the cries of how they missed each other so. “Theta,” he mouthed against the other's shoulder, his eyes quickly becoming wet. The longer the hug lasted the more layers he felt radiating off the Doctor. He felt the fear and the deep seated rage. He also felt the hope and the never ending love. He squeezed his eyes shut. Allowing the moment to freeze, and the drums to once more fall to the background.
The Doctor held onto the other like his life depended on it, and he felt as though it did. He loved many times in his life, but none were quite like this. “I don't know what's wrong. If you stay with me, though,” his voice sounded wet, “I promise, I'll find a way to fix it.” He whispered into the other's hair before placing a kiss there. They could travel the universe. All of time and space would be theirs to see, theirs to help. It was how it should have been from the start of their lives. He held onto the other a little tighter, his eyes squeezing shut as he pressed his face into the top of the other's head. Tears fell from his eyes easily, he wasn't afraid to cry. “Koschei, I missed you so much. Please, don't leave me.” The words were choked out in a half sob. He truly did miss the other. He felt hands grab at his face and forcing them to meet eyes, and soon enough their lips collided. The kiss was brief but felt like stars bursting between their lips, and he missed it so.
The Master kept the kiss as long as it felt tasteful before he gently pulled back. He pressed their foreheads together, thinking about any way he could live in this moment forever. A soft smile ghosted across his lips for a brief moment, and his teary eyes glanced down to his shoes before back up. He leaned in so their lips were brushed against each other and whispered,
“Never again, Theta.”