hh_mirror | owl to the Master

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owl to the Master

I want to talk to you. If you're interested meet me in the Great Hall.

- the Lone Centurion

It was a short letter for two reasons. One, Rory was not sure about the wisdom of setting up a meeting with the psychopathic alien who'd threatened to do unpleasant things to you with a cocktail stirrer. But he needed to know more than he did, to protect Amy and himself and the rest of the school and possibly even the Doctor because what the bloody hell had he got himself in to? And he had a bargaining chip, sort of.

Which was the other reason the letter was so short. He couldn't remember how to write anything more elaborate in Old Norman dialect. Still, that ought to get the Master's attention.

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Rory looked distinctly unthawed. That smile was somehow the creepiest thing yet. "I don't have any others to judge by."

"Is there something in particular you want to know?" He peered closely into Rory's face."I mean, a word like 'stalking' makes me sound like some sort of unsavory ex."

"...are you?" He didn't lean away, much as he'd like to. "The idea has crossed my mind."

"Nothing so straightforward," he huffed, then shrugged. "It's not a completely inaccurate way of looking at it, though."

Rory sighed, sitting back finally. "...and that actually does explain a lot."

That was a somewhat refreshing reaction. "A lot? I didn't know there had been a lot for you to need explaining."

"There's why he never said anything when he knew you'd turned up." Which counted as 'a lot' by itself, as far as Rory was concerned.

"Sounds like I'm a dark secret," he said with a sardonic grin. "You'd think he'd have learned better. Maybe he's ashamed of me. What an awful thought." He said it lightly, but there was an undercurrent of irritation as well.

And maybe it's also because you two are the last ones left from your planet? Obviously, he wasn't going to bring that up, but it made it harder to be angry with the Doctor. It wasn't as if Rory didn't understand isolation, or survivor guilt. "I wouldn't like to guess what he's thinking, half the time."

"I've got centuries of practice, and he's still exasperating. It's a point of pride with him, so I usually let it slide." When, of course, he's not blowing up countries to make his point. "I'm still waiting for the backstory on your remark about plastic, by the way."

"All right." He had been planning to exchange stories, after all. And this was possibly the only time he'd be able to explain it without apologising for how little sense it made. "Do you know about the cracks in the universe, and the Pandorica?"

"Must've been while I was busy not existing," he said, cupping his chin in his hands. "This is going to be good, isn't it? Do go on."

Of course, this was the kind of exchange that meant he'd be giving a lot more than he'd got. But he should've known that, going in. "The cracks - it was actually one crack, but it was everywhere. Through all of space and time. And the way I remember what happened is ...I got shot. Long story, negotiating with lizard people, it's not the important bit. I was shot, dying, and the last thing I saw was this crack opening up, and I was going to fall into it and never have existed. And then I woke up and I was a Roman who somehow remembered being a nurse from two thousand years in the future."

He sighed, leaning forward again to rest his head in his hands for a moment. "Only it turned out I wasn't. I wasn't me, not exactly ...I mean, it was. My mind, my - heart and soul, and I remember it all even though it's been written out of time again. But I was a copy. A Nestene duplicate."

"Nestene?" The Master's eyes lit up at that. "A human mind in Auton form? Oh, that's good, that's brilliant." He looked at Rory sharply. "And you're not anymore. It must feel so good to be right again."

Rory met his eyes for a moment, then looked away again. "...yeah," he admitted. "It's a relief."

"That's just one detail, though. I want to hear the rest." Oh, my, did he actually look guilty at being able to commiserate?

It hadn't been guilt so much as aggravation. He didn't want to commiserate, to risk losing sight for even a moment of how twisted and dangerous the Master was. "I could say the same thing, except I can guess what's going to happen if I try asking you for any more of your story."

"Can you? I've been told people can't die here. That's one thing I can't do. But there are plenty of others." His tone was warm and companionable. "I must insist. Tell me this story of yours."

And that would be why I don't want you understanding me. He didn't shudder visibly, or flinch, or anything of the sort, but it took an effort.

"My legion - the Autons, I mean, they ...we were camped near Stonehenge. That's where the Pandorica was, buried underneath it. The legend was, it was a prison, holding the most dangerous being in the universe. And now it was opening."

"Oh, this is a fun story," the Master said with cheerful sincerity. "And you're telling it so well. Underrated skill, that."

"Well, you're going to love this next part." He said it with a glare, but there was no getting round it. He'd automatically begun telling the story in the order he'd learned it, the way it had seemed to happen for him, but that never made sense for long. And he was not comfortable with compliments from the psychopath. "I didn't know this until the programming kicked in -" he swallowed hard, remembering "- but the whole thing was a trap, for the Doctor. A story like that, he'd have to show up, and then w- they were going to lock him inside. Not just the Autons, everyone who's ever fought him was there. Because they thought he was what was going to cause the cracks, uncreate the universe."

The Master's eyes lit up as if he'd been handed a thoughtful and costly gift. "A conspiracy? Oh, yes, that's beautiful. They must have been terrified." It was as he'd said; for all his altruistic ways, the Doctor was most often whispered about with fear. And it was starting to catch up with him.

"They were also wrong." Too defensive, he knew as soon as he'd spoken, but that look... "It wasn't him, but it was the Tardis. River was meant to be bringing it to him and - it exploded, and before you ask, no, we don't know why."

"Well, it has taken a lot of abuse over the years." The Master's smile never wavered. "I don't think I've ever seen it explode, though."

"It shouldn't have, but it did. Through the whole of time and space. The silence did fall and the stars went out..." He trailed off, gazing down at his hands. And Amy was dead, and I wasn't real.

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