Still Love You; Doctor Who; PG13
Aug. 30th, 2008 09:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morgynleriTitle: Still Love You
AU: Lieutenant to Chaos
Rating: PG13
The Master ran his hand through his hair as he looked in the mirror, certain he still hadn't gotten it right. He couldn't get rid of the feeling in the pit of his stomach that he'd never be able to fix this, no matter how much he tried, no matter how much time he put into it. He heard the slight creak of the door, and spun around, anxiously watching as it opened, afraid it would be that damned annoying doctor, or the arrogant bitch, or worse, the doe-eyed Welsh girl. Instead of Jack himself.
Jack didn't move any further into the room than he needed to in order to shut the door behind him, his expression unreadable - something that threw the Master more off-kilter. He didn't speak, just watched the Master with his so-mobile face frozen in a blank mask that made the sick feeling in the Master's stomach worse.
He'd never been good at apologies, had never actually made one, to his memory. The Master smoothed sweaty palms over the legs of his trousers, hating the nausea, the throb of a headache that had nothing to do with drums, the dry feeling at the back of his throat. Nothing would come from his throat when he opened his mouth to speak, and he closed it again, hating the rising embaressment.
The click of the doorknob turning, and Jack taking the first half-step to turn away spurred him into action, blurting out the words he had so much trouble finding, had been fighting for a chance to say.
"I'm sorry."
Jack froze, one hand still on the doorknob, half-turned away. Surprise was painted across his expression, even seen only in profile. The door shut again, and he twisted back around to look at the Master, a vulnerable expression crossing his face for a moment.
"Please, Jack."
The Master despised the break in his voice, the pleading tone, but he couldn't risk Jack walking out that door. More than just being able to feel the timelines, he knew if Jack left now, he wouldn't come back. And the Master would never have this chance again.
"I..." The Master paused, licking dry lips. "You were right," he whispered, barely able to get the words out. He hated being wrong, he hated admitting it when he was.
He searched Jack's face for any sign that he was believed, uncertain how much of his desperation was showing on his own expression. Hoping that it wasn't, hoping that his refusal to leave until he had a chance to apologize in person would tell Jack just how much he meant it. That he wouldn't have to keep spilling out the words, awkward and stilted.
"I just... I don't. Trust him, not anymore. I. He's."
Too much a reminder of what the Master had been, when he ran away from the Time War instead of fighting. Too wrapped up in his guilt to see what had been right in front of him - much like the Master had been wrapped up in madness. Cruel in a way the Master had never thought the Doctor could be.
"Not like you."
Jack's voice is closer than the Master expected, and he realizes he's closed his eyes, expecting that he'd hear the door open and shut again behind Jack. He opens them to see that Jack is close enough to touch, but he can't bring himself to reach out first, afraid that Jack will just pull away.
"Too much like me, Jack."
The Master almost twitches away when Jack reaches out to cup his jaw in strong fingers. He can't look away from the brilliant blue of Jack's eyes, the flare of protective anger in their depths making him wonder just what he had been ignoring all these decades.
"No."
One word, conviction firm enough to make protest wither before it could be uttered.
"Why?"
A question filled with bewilderment, and the Master hates the faint tremor in his voice as he asks it. Hates that he so desperately wants the reassurance that he's not the monster he remembers he has been, that he can see the Doctor sliding towards becoming.
"You came back. You didn't run away, you didn't give up, even when told to leave well enough alone."
Jack's voice is quiet steel, and he hasn't let the Master go. He takes a step closer, cupping the Master's face in his hands, holding his gaze steadily as he leans in to kiss him, firm and chaste and with emotion behind it that the Master hasn't felt from anyone in a millennium, not and been able to appreciate it.
"How?" is the first coherent word out of the Master when Jack steps back. Bewildered and uncertain how this man he'd used and abused for half a century could care for him, much less love him.
Jack just smiles, a familiar and welcome warm grin.
"I never stopped."
AU: Lieutenant to Chaos
Rating: PG13
The Master ran his hand through his hair as he looked in the mirror, certain he still hadn't gotten it right. He couldn't get rid of the feeling in the pit of his stomach that he'd never be able to fix this, no matter how much he tried, no matter how much time he put into it. He heard the slight creak of the door, and spun around, anxiously watching as it opened, afraid it would be that damned annoying doctor, or the arrogant bitch, or worse, the doe-eyed Welsh girl. Instead of Jack himself.
Jack didn't move any further into the room than he needed to in order to shut the door behind him, his expression unreadable - something that threw the Master more off-kilter. He didn't speak, just watched the Master with his so-mobile face frozen in a blank mask that made the sick feeling in the Master's stomach worse.
He'd never been good at apologies, had never actually made one, to his memory. The Master smoothed sweaty palms over the legs of his trousers, hating the nausea, the throb of a headache that had nothing to do with drums, the dry feeling at the back of his throat. Nothing would come from his throat when he opened his mouth to speak, and he closed it again, hating the rising embaressment.
The click of the doorknob turning, and Jack taking the first half-step to turn away spurred him into action, blurting out the words he had so much trouble finding, had been fighting for a chance to say.
"I'm sorry."
Jack froze, one hand still on the doorknob, half-turned away. Surprise was painted across his expression, even seen only in profile. The door shut again, and he twisted back around to look at the Master, a vulnerable expression crossing his face for a moment.
"Please, Jack."
The Master despised the break in his voice, the pleading tone, but he couldn't risk Jack walking out that door. More than just being able to feel the timelines, he knew if Jack left now, he wouldn't come back. And the Master would never have this chance again.
"I..." The Master paused, licking dry lips. "You were right," he whispered, barely able to get the words out. He hated being wrong, he hated admitting it when he was.
He searched Jack's face for any sign that he was believed, uncertain how much of his desperation was showing on his own expression. Hoping that it wasn't, hoping that his refusal to leave until he had a chance to apologize in person would tell Jack just how much he meant it. That he wouldn't have to keep spilling out the words, awkward and stilted.
"I just... I don't. Trust him, not anymore. I. He's."
Too much a reminder of what the Master had been, when he ran away from the Time War instead of fighting. Too wrapped up in his guilt to see what had been right in front of him - much like the Master had been wrapped up in madness. Cruel in a way the Master had never thought the Doctor could be.
"Not like you."
Jack's voice is closer than the Master expected, and he realizes he's closed his eyes, expecting that he'd hear the door open and shut again behind Jack. He opens them to see that Jack is close enough to touch, but he can't bring himself to reach out first, afraid that Jack will just pull away.
"Too much like me, Jack."
The Master almost twitches away when Jack reaches out to cup his jaw in strong fingers. He can't look away from the brilliant blue of Jack's eyes, the flare of protective anger in their depths making him wonder just what he had been ignoring all these decades.
"No."
One word, conviction firm enough to make protest wither before it could be uttered.
"Why?"
A question filled with bewilderment, and the Master hates the faint tremor in his voice as he asks it. Hates that he so desperately wants the reassurance that he's not the monster he remembers he has been, that he can see the Doctor sliding towards becoming.
"You came back. You didn't run away, you didn't give up, even when told to leave well enough alone."
Jack's voice is quiet steel, and he hasn't let the Master go. He takes a step closer, cupping the Master's face in his hands, holding his gaze steadily as he leans in to kiss him, firm and chaste and with emotion behind it that the Master hasn't felt from anyone in a millennium, not and been able to appreciate it.
"How?" is the first coherent word out of the Master when Jack steps back. Bewildered and uncertain how this man he'd used and abused for half a century could care for him, much less love him.
Jack just smiles, a familiar and welcome warm grin.
"I never stopped."