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Chapter Text

It had been during breakfast when the cloisters rang out. They were a precaution from his advisors, a warning that unidentified objects were entering the atmosphere. Steven estimated he had around forty five minutes until the craft landed on the planet’s surface.

Usually this would be of no concern to him, simply just a passing cargo ship needing to refuel or people seeking refuge- something he would deal with the delegation of but not the immediate event. However this was different. This mercurial hum of the cloister bells which cried out throughout his home was something he himself had engineered for a very special occasion. It had taken hours of toiling away but Steven had managed to create a facsimile of the Tardis’ own bell of doom. To have such bells ring out meant that the Tardis was on its way.

Kissing his wife’s cheek and ruffling his girls’ hair, Steven had stood to attention and rushed away, leaving his protein soup to go cold in his absence. Muttering hastily made apologies to his court for his sudden about-to-be disappearance, he set course for the Center of Astrological Phenomena (now helmed by the otherwise retired Jano). If anyone would know where the Doctor would land, it would be Jano.

He arrived with such haste that even Jano seemed taken aback by his quick arrival. The scientist was old now, yet still operated the space-time telescopes with the enthusiasm of a much younger man. He and Steven agreed on the cloisters, that the Doctor surely had to be on his way. With a hushed whisper of assurance (sometimes Steven could still hear a semblance of the Doctor in his voice), Jano left Steven to make the final checks on the telescope, hoping to mark the spot at which the Tardis would land.

Humbly- and for the first time in a while, nervously- waving away the reverent audience that had gathered around Jano and him, Steven moved to examine one of the databanks whirring away at the control center. His eyes scanned over the various star dates and possible impact sites, from where he the Doctor and Dodo had first landed, to the cliffs and valleys of the neighbouring kingdoms- his lack of trust in the Doctor’s piloting had never waned.

Taking, from one of the scientists, an ephemeralised astral map, Steven left behind the crowds and made his way up to the roof. His legs ached as he staggered up the spiral staircase, his mind too occupied to focus on placing one foot in front of another in an orderly fashion. He scoffed at his own weakness, remembering a time where all he did would be scale up and down from his own self-constructed castle. But that was different, that had been a fairytale- he liked to think that, despite being a King, he was more grounded in reality now.

Up on the roof he could catch a glimpse down at his kingdom. It sparked feelings of pride, he’d taken such a ‘perfect’ society and spread its beauty to every corner and person, as it always should have been; nostalgia, for a place he hadn’t even lost yet; anxiety, the fear that one day he’d fail in his duties; rejection, that the Doctor had left him here.

The Doctor surely would arrive soon, Steven calculated; any minute now. He settled down on the metal pedestal made for astrologists studying the stars, and instead looked down at the world below him. The sunlight stung; it wasn’t generally recommended to be at this altitude without sufficient protection from the hot rays, but Steven liked the taste of the burning on his skin, it kept him alert.

He counted every millisecond, to second, to minute, and onwards. It was a habit he’d picked up during his time with the Doctor which he’d thought he’d shaken, but clearly it was back in full force for this day. He thought back to his breakfast time, a happy affair shaken by the sudden alert. His family would be missing him, his daughters nearly all grown up barring one (Dodo had been their happy accident some years later) yet still attached enough to their father to join him for meals every so often. The Doctor had removed him from his family- Steven knew he was being overdramatic but the idea of leaving them for him hung sorrowfully in his mind.

The estimated deadline passed and there was still no sign of the Doctor. Steven thought perhaps he ought to head back down and check in with Jano, but his rooftop ‘throne’ seemed so comforting; it reminded him of the very day the Doctor first arrived to rescue him.

Steven sat at the rooftop for what seemed like hours, attentive and in a state of what could be called yearning. Would the Doctor ever arrive? When so? Would Dodo be by his side? Steven couldn’t see a world where she wasn’t- that old man was all she had in the world. It had been decades since he’d known the girl, but he had lost none of his fondness for her. He recalled, when he was settling into his new home, feeling a twinge of regret at how he’d left things with her.

They had hugged, Dodo rushing into his arms with a sob which made his heart ache. He had cradled her, alike to how he cradled his Dodo. Then he pressed a soft kiss to her hair and left her, turning his back on that family he’d built for himself from scraps and half remembered promises to stick together.

Then there was the Doctor. Steven wondered for a moment if the man was even intending to visit him, or if it was just the Tardis’ twisted sense of humour bringing him back. He wasn’t sure what he hoped the truth was- either the Doctor coming back to lure him once again into his ship, or the Doctor never truly wanting to find him.

Steven hoped that, when the Doctor stumbled down onto the planet, he would still recognise him. It had been almost three decades since that life had left him- he was a different man now. He had left behind the dark turtlenecks in favour of practical robes of state, today’s robes were in a shade of muted ultramarine. He was older too, not yet as he had been when the Time Destructor had… but descending into middle age. Thick greying curls framed his aging face, his features having become fuller and less harsh as the natural course of time made its way through him.

He dreaded the day his age overtook the Doctor’s- on the surface at least. It would mean he’d grown up and truly left that wily ‘old’ space and time traveller behind. He knew growing up was a stage he’d surpassed long ago, yet he also thought he had a lot to learn, a lot he’d missed out on the first go around.

By midday he was tired, the stifling heat sending scorching shivers down his spine. The Doctor still hadn’t arrived, hadn’t come for him. Steven didn’t know if that was a blessing or something to mourn.

Perhaps it was time to give up, he thought after counting four hours and fifty-seven minutes spent waiting. Steven hated to admit defeat but he couldn’t stay up on the roof forever, he could be free of that habit now.

The audience of his citizens, curious and admiring, welcomed him back down to the ground with open arms. He gave quiet thanks to everyone who expressed their sympathy, even if they didn’t truly know what he was going through. He’d been so close to seeing him again, but maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.

Jano pulled him aside, muttering eccentrically about faulty systems or tripped alarms, Steven nodded on blankly. The Tardis hadn’t landed here, not really. The alarms had clearly been wrong. If it had, then the Doctor surely would be at his door chuckling and smiling that nostalgic smile of his, but he wasn’t.

Steven waved off Jano’s concerns at his despondent expression, sharply fixing himself up again to seem confident and kingly. After giving a quick-witted address to the people of the institute, he brashly left and headed back home, back to his family.

They delighted in his reappearance, shrugging off the brusque manner he had left that morning- the Doctor was important to him and they knew it. Dodo begged for another story about the man, Steven promised to deliver her one fit for a princess that evening. Raleigh and Violetta gave him knowing, sympathetic smiles as he explained how the Doctor had failed to materialise. His wife embraced him understandingly, assuring him that there would always be other times, other chances. He wasn’t so sure but relaxed in her hold anyways, she never failed to comfort him.

Despite his dark mood, Steven attended to his advisors and assured them he was still well enough for the day’s tasks. They nodded along to his explanation of why he’d neglected the morning’s duties, not quite understanding but not wanting to further his sadness.

It was with this melancholy outlook that King Steven began to hold his royal court.

His court is a busy affair; once a week every person in the kingdom is invited to air their complaints and share their thoughts. Steven always listens, despite the number of people who accept the invitation being in the hundreds. Most of the time he can help, or at least advise.

The throne room in which this takes place is homely, with dark wooden furnishings which make a sharp contrast to the usual aesthetics of the inner city (still decoratively held back by the ways of the people who ruled before Steven). Steven remembers helping to build it, all he wanted was a place that didn’t remind him of Mechanus. It was both his own sanctuary and the sanctuary of anyone who needed it.

He settles into the throne room with a dismal sigh, fixing his robes and collar in an attempt to wipe the sun-spotted sting on his person away. When the grand doors open, Steven hopes he’s made himself look at least decently presentable. He straightens up in his seat, giving kind looks to every person who awaits his help.

For the most part today’s visitors don’t seem too troubled. Steven answers to petty quarrels, harvest concerns, authorises the building of a new library in a nearby district. This is what he’s good at. His advice is taken with a grateful smile and he watches as the tenseness in his citizen’s shoulders eases up when they leave. It makes his mood turn from bitterness to bittersweet contentment, seeing that he’s helped so many people.

As the last person leaves, his nerves about joining the space form assuaged, Steven sighs tiredly as the doors ready themselves to automatically close. But, at the last moment, they stop. The door system glitches for a moment, juddering unpleasantly, before reopening to welcome in one last visitor.

He struts through the throne room, stopping at Steven and kneeling at his feet diplomatically.

“No, we don’t do that here.” Steven says awkwardly, never liking it when people treated him in such a traditional manner. “You must be a visitor from someplace else then?”

The man looks up at him, first with annoyance at Steven’s dismissal of his gesture and then subtle embarrassment. He gets up and stands to his full height, around five foot 6, and brushes himself down as if the floor had been caked with dust.

Steven, meeting his gaze, finally has a chance to get a good look at his face. He has tanned skin, a heavy brow and dark burning eyes with a certain richness in them that reminded Steven of something he couldn’t quite recall. Clothes wise, he is wearing a muted black one-piece garment.

“Yes, you could say I’m from quite the distance away.” He responds. “I am just passing by, on business.”

Steven leans forward, intrigued by his collected manner. “And what business is that?”

“Minerals.” The man has a hungry, desperate look in his eyes. “Are you aware of the rich duralinium deposits buried deep under the surface of this planet?”

Steven’s eyes widened. He’d heard of duralinium of course, but the idea of this planet being the source of any amount, rich or shallow, had never crossed his mind.

“Do go on.” He says in his best attempt at an authoritative tone.

“You see, many thousands of years ago this planet was full of duralinium. Over the years the surface deposits were gradually mined away into nothing, but deep below exists hundreds of tons of the pure mineral.”

“And how do you know this.. What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t.” The man mutters. “I am usually referred to as the Master, that is what you will address me as.”

Steven raises his eyebrow at the unusual name. For a moment he hesitates, unsure whether to proceed. This convention reminds him of a time gone by, but the rational part of his mind denies any possible connection.

The Master continues: “I have… shall we say ‘inside information’ from that bygone time.”

“And you want me to help you… mine it?” Steven asks incredulously. He’d had somewhat similar requests before, from big-headed politicians hungry for the planet’s resources- he’d shut them all down of course. But this was different, this ‘Master’ claimed knowledge no one else had, he was different from the others. “This planet is protected, I’m afraid you’ll have to take your scheme somewhere else.”

The Master seems dismayed, yet clearly not yet ready to give up. “You must understand that, in aiding me, you will be helping yourself as well. I’m sure your people would benefit from such practical materials, not to mention the profit for you.” He says in the style of a snake-oil salesman, trying to win Steven over.

“The answer is still no.” Steven holds his ground. He swore an oath to protect his kingdom, and by extension the planet it occupied. Exploiting its minerals would go against that oath as well as every moral fibre in his body, of which he had rather a lot.

The Master’s expression changes, from irritation to collected resignation. He meets Steven’s gaze with his powerful eyes; it's almost overwhelming.

“Now, I am the Master, and you will obey me.” He began, his voice stilted and commanding. “You will assist me in what it is that I require, without question.” He repeats this mantra with a cold look towards Steven.

Steven stares back, close to the brink of falling into the depths of the strange visitor’s eyes. He can feel himself slipping into the pools of murky brown, into his control, the control of his Master..-

“No!” Steven stamps his foot angrily, bringing both he and the Master out of their trances. “No, that won’t work on me.”

He eyes up the guards on either side of the throne room, they look back concernedly, ready to take action. Steven shakes his head, deciding to deal with the problem on his own for the moment.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I’m not sure what you are, but that sort of trickery goes against several laws on this planet.”

The Master chuckles, though still visibly shaken by Steven’s refusal to be hypnotised. “Oh but your honour, Steven wasn’t it? I truly feel you aren’t giving me a chance to explain myself.”

“I’ve given you more than enough time.” Steven states, leaving his throne to stand at his full height opposite the Master, practically towering over the shorter man. “Where did you arrive from?” He doesn’t like the hungry way the Master eyes him up, both judgemental and appraising.

“I came in my own ship, I landed just past the valley across from here. There’s no need to escort me out, I know when I’m not wanted.”

The Master turns his back on Steven and starts to exit the room, however Steven grabs him by the shoulder, pulling him back.

“Not so easy, Master.” He starts, “I’ll be coming with you- can’t have you trying out your tricks on any of my people on your way.”

The Master scoffs, “What would I want with those people? Mere citizens, they would be of no use to me.”

It’s been quite some time since Steven encountered someone so… dismissive. But he knows how to keep pushing, it's what he’s best at.

“I still want to take a look at your craft. We don’t get many people with such powerful abilities in this part of the galaxy- I must say I’m curious as to where you came from.” He presses onward, with a tone suggesting this was an order, not a suggestion.

“Well, if you must. And I do appreciate the compliment, ‘powerful’, I am glad I impressed you.”

Steven rolls his eyes, no longer concerned about keeping up his regal image with such a disrespectful visitor. “Come on then, show me the way to your ship.”

He waves away his guards when they attempt to follow them, saying he could handle it. It would be nice to take his mind off the morning’s dreary events with some investigating.

Leaving the throne room and then the central hall as a whole, they stroll through the pristine streets of the inner city, Steven decidedly ignoring the attention he received from his citizens while the Master practically revelled in the curiosity his unfamiliar nature sparked.

Then, exiting the city, the Master and Steven begin making their way across the outer plains. While previously having been a barren landscape, under Steven’s rule the area outside the city has become flourishing wetlands- it is currently the dry season, and the pair walk through the fields with ease.

Steven coughs, stating with it his intent to speak: “So, where do you come from then? And what sort of ship is it you travel in?”

“Well aren’t you curious? It was my understanding that a King’s purpose was to serve, not to question.”

“That may be, but a King must know the goings on in his kingdom, otherwise there’s no trust; everything collapses in on itself.”

“I doubt you’d be able to comprehend the truth of my arrival.” The Master says snootily, boasting to himself what he deemed his superior intelligence. “You Uxariean people never did have the brains for advanced technology.”

Steven almost laughs at the absurdity of the man’s insult. “I’d choose my words more carefully if I was trying to get into the good books of the king of an Uxariean kingdom. My people are intelligent and always wanting to learn more, I don’t think your ship will be ‘above’ them in any way.”

“That may be so, but a king surely doesn’t have the skills to understand anything greater than simple diplomacy and kingdom-keeping, I shouldn’t want to confuse you.” He says in response, his voice nearing a pretentious tone.

“You’d be surprised.” Steven answered back. “I was a pilot, lifetimes ago now. I flew just about every kind of ship imaginable, as well as unimaginable ones. It’s been a while, and I know for certain the technology has moved on, but I think I know enough to grasp the basics.”

“Oh, were you now?” The Master seems genuinely interested now, looking at Steven in a new light. “How long did you serve?”

Steven thinks back, trying to recall how long he’d actually spent in the space force, then as a part of Flight Red Fifty. “About three years as a solo pilot, then two as part of a squadron.”

“Any Wars?”

“There’s always wars.” Steven stated, unsure of how to proceed without giving away his non-Uxariean, and indeed othertimely origins. It's well known in his kingdom that he came as a traveller from afar, but he still finds exercising caution to be the best policy. “I flew in the Draconian conflicts, that I remember most. But it has been years, war has moved on since then.” He thinks a passing mention won’t hurt, to most people it would just seem as if he were just referencing a conflict far away spatially, not temporally.

“The Draconians, eh?” Now the Master really does seem intrigued. “Now that is interesting…”

“You’re familiar with them?” Steven asks.

“I will be, in due time.” The Master responds, clearly not wishing to elaborate further.

Seeing his reluctance, Steven takes the chance to bring the man back to his original questions. “You still haven’t told me how you got here.”

The Master sighs. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a rather pushy fellow? Don’t you ever simply take silence as an answer?” He snaps at Steven.

“Yes, people have.” Steven says. “But I always get my way, sooner or later. I’ll be inspecting your ship when we reach it whether you like it or not- its within my rights as king.”

“By birthright or appointment?”

“Well, appointment I suppose.”

“Well then I fear for the judgement of whoever deemed you worthy of the title.” The Master mutters under his breath- Steven hears every word.

It's hard work, but he knows he has to remain diplomatic- the Master could always be an emissary of some faraway planet with the power to slander him if his temper rose up against him. Though looking at him, Steven thinks he’s more likely to be working alone.

“Right.” Steven sighs, indicating to the Master that he indeed had heard the insult. “First you arrive here without warning; then you come to me demanding I exploit precious minerals for which you won’t, or can’t explain how you came to learn about them; then you insult me and my people. I don’t understand how you thought you could win me over.”

“Well after I learnt you wouldn’t help me, what point was there in trying?”

Steven can’t exactly argue with the man’s logic. “Will you try someplace else then, for the duralinium I mean?”

“I expect so, there must be another source in this galaxy. If not, then I shall have to… broaden my search. I’d rather not have to put in that additional effort however.”

“So your ship can travel further than that then?” Steven smiles cheekily (yet still professionally), delighting in the scraps of information the Master is giving him; the Master glares at him. “Diplomacy is a lot more than just politeness, you know. It's also getting what you want, within reason of course- and what I want is information about you.”

The Master doesn’t respond, looking down in contemplative shame.

Steven continues: “Now, if you’re not going to tell me anything about your ship- until we get to it- will you just tell me one thing?”

“That shall depend on what it is you’re about to ask.” The Master grumbles, “I’m a very busy man, I can’t stand around here all day answering to your queries.”

“Oh? Busy with what?” Steven is insistent. “And my question is: why do you need duralinium?” He asks, “I know it's a building material, but I doubt you’re just looking to build yourself a nice villa or something with it.”

“And why not? I work hard, perhaps a nice chateau on earth would be what I deserve- somewhere in the south of France perhaps, their wine truly is-”

“Stop changing the subject!” Steven puts his foot down. “Just tell me the truth, and I’ll let you leave without much trouble.” He finds it likely that the Master has nefarious plans, from the little he’s gathered by talking to him. Though he’d prefer the man to leave the whole galaxy alone, the best Steven can do for now would perhaps be to let him leave, and therefore protect his planet, and then warn the neighbouring planets of whatever plot the Master has.

“There’s no need to moralise me, or be antagonistic. I’ve been getting enough of that recently and, to be quite honest, it is becoming a bore.”

Steven notices that the Master’s walking pace has slowed; he figures they must be getting close to the craft.

The Master continues his speech, waving his hand at Steven dismissively as he gears himself up for another push for information. “You see, I have been greatly wronged by an old friend of mine, a very old friend.”

“Oh, I’m sorry about that.” Steven isn’t quite sure how to respond.

“We recently re-encountered one another and I was all too willing to let bygones be bygones, but he refused.” The Master elaborates. “He seems to have gone ‘round the bend’ as I believe the expression goes? I have tried reasoning with him, but that posse of people he’s surrounded himself with appears to have been a bad influence on him, and he simply won’t see what’s best.”

“So what next?” Steven asks, drawn into the Master’s tale.

“Well, he has a car.”

Steven splutters, not quite expecting that to be the next thing the Master said. “I beg your pardon?”

“A primitive yellow vehicle, I believe he has named it ‘Bessie’. He is very fond of it.” The Master says saltily; Steven wonders if he’s simply jealous of the car. “If I can perhaps sabotage it, then he would be even more trapped in one place than he already has been.”

“Oh, I see.” It's a less ‘evil’ plan than Steven was expecting, but still incredibly petty. “Is that all? You want to mine tons of a precious mineral, all so you can break down an old enemy’s car?”

“Duralinium is incredibly durable, it would be nearly impossible for him to repair his ‘Bessie’ once I have tampered with it using that.”

“What if he just… gets a new car?” Steven is moreso confused than concerned by this point.

“Oh no, he is simply too attached to this one to let it go. His human companions may come and go with all the haste of participating in a motor race but he seems unusually dependent on the car.”

They have stopped, Steven notices.

“So, where is your ship?” He looks around but can’t see anything out of the ordinary. They have arrived at a copse in the nearby valley. Scanning his surroundings Steven can only see the usual array of trees, foliage and rocks. He notes the flowers growing under an old Uxas tree, they would make a nice present to bring back to her wife- she did always like it when he brought home bouquets.

The Master grins, a cheeky smile which suggests he revels in Steven’s confusion. “It’s here, simply disguised.”

That sets off alarm bells in Steven’s head. He remembers an old foe, from long ago. He remembers an Anglo-Saxon sarcophagus, then a boulder, then various random furnishings, then… a familiar shape. He remembers an old friend, from long ago. He remembers a police box.

Steven’s eyes widen; he is sure every one of his strongly developing crows feet are visible against his face in that moment. Fortunately the Master has his back turned and is not privy to Steven’s shock. Steven wanted to smack himself for his obliviousness, he’d been too focused on the present and not enough on the past. Even just the Master’s name should have been an easy giveaway. Perhaps it had been so long since those adventures that his mind had gone soft, and he’d lost that edge to him that travelling with the Doctor had rewarded him with.

He looks beyond the Master and sees a tree, staring back at him looking every bit out of place as the Master had in his throne room. It’s oak- an earth tree.

Steven thinks back to the morning, where he had been so certain the Doctor was coming. Perhaps he’d been close in his assumption after all- his cloisters weren’t programmed to differentiate one Tardis from another.

The Master steps forward, pulling out a small device from his pocket and pressing a button. Steven watches in tense awe as the tree opens up from within, two white doors protruding from its trunk.

Looking back at Steven with a raised eyebrow, the Master speaks up pretentiously: “Well, wouldn’t you like to come in? You have come all this way after all, seeking answers so… brashly.”

Steven wonders for a moment if he should run, back to his kingdom and back to his family. But he can feel the pull of the ship- it is not the same as his Tardis, but still enticing enough that the hairs on the back of his neck stand up in delicious anticipation.

“Yes.” Is all he can answer with, trying to conceal his emotions: anger, distress, fear, longing.

The Master beckons for Steven to follow him, and for a moment it truly is like he’s been hypnotised. Suddenly he’s back on Mechanus, stumbling blindly through his burning home. He blinks back subtle tears, no doubt caused by the ashes of the crumbling city tumbling down into the forest and invading his eyes. His limbs ache, the adrenaline of running was wearing off and transforming into something akin to regret. Everything feels so new and exciting and he doesn’t even know what awaits him.

But he does, this time he knows exactly what to expect.

Steven stumbles into the Tardis, overwhelmed as he takes in the familiar yet foreign room. It is darker, both in lighting and decor. The walls are a shade of muddied white, almost brown; Steven finds the general mood of the interior to be murky and uninviting. The central column stands almost identical to the Doctor’s, yet with minor technical differences.

It’s like an uncanny recollection of his old home, the foggy blinds of nostalgia closed over it. After all these years, he is Steven Taylor in the Tardis again, or rather Steven Taylor in a Tardis. This is not his home.

“This, my dear chap, is a Tardis.” The Master says, appearing to mistake Steven’s recognition for bewilderment. “My very own, I’m afraid I don’t take passengers.”

“It’s a bit dark, isn’t it?”

“I beg your pardon, ‘dark’?” The Master looks at him with a glare.

“Yes, I mean how can you see what you’re doing?” Though he found the blinding white of his own Tardis a strain on his eyes at times, Steven appreciated that the brightness was much more practical. “When you’re piloting it that is.”

The Master laughs as if Steven has asked something incredibly stupid. “No, I simply know exactly where everything is.”

“Oh, right.” Steven says. Then, he has an idea. Approaching middle age, he’d have thought dramatics were past him, but perhaps being back in a Tardis brought them back along with that feeling of youth he missed. “You know it all looks rather technical.” He starts with a sly smile.

“Extremely. You can see why I claimed it to be above your level of intelligence.” The Master boasts, thinking Steven has given him the upper hand once more.

“Uh huh.” Steven begins circling the central column, appraising the buttons and levers he used to- and is realising that he still does- know by heart.

“Now, clearly I’m just a humble King and don’t know what I’m talking about, but if I were to hazard a guess…” He begins pointing to various instruments around the room, faking an innocent expression. “Would this be the scanner? That the horizontal hold? A fast return switch there? Maybe that’s an index file display? But I mean, how would I know really?” He finishes his speech with a demonstrative grin, delighting in the rush that memories of a long passed time coming back gave him.

Looking at the Master, he almost bursts out laughing at how taken aback the man seems.

The Master splutters, trying to regain his composure. “Well done.” He claps his hands, trying to offset Steven’s dramatic speech with his own mannerisms. It's subtle, but Steven can see his demeanour change at this reveal. “You know, that was a rather good guessing game you just played- I’d almost believe you weren’t guessing.” It's clear that he does believe that.

Steven supposes it's time to let the cat out of the bag. “I could fly this you know, if I wanted to.”

“Could you really?” The Master laughs, not quite taking him seriously.

“It’s been decades, I was a young man back then. But I was always quite good at it, not to brag.” Steven knows he’s bragging, but he doesn’t care.

“And how did you come across a Tardis? A measly man of Uxarieus finding a time and space machine?”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly a man of Uxarieus when I found it. I’m not from this planet at all, I was born on earth.”

“Oh?”

“I was… a stowaway. A stowaway who became a co-pilot.”

The Master raises his eyebrow, a look of dread beginning to overtake his face. “A co-pilot? To whom?”

“You might know him, I suppose. The Doctor.” Steven answers matter-of-factly. “Old man, long white hair, as far as I know he stole his Tardis and ran away with it. What about you then, did you steal yours too?”

“The…Doctor?” There is fury in the Master's voice, as well as something else Steven can’t quite pick out and identify. “I should have known, you’re as irritating as that UNIT bunch he insists on parading around the place, interfering in my plans.”

Steven smiles widely. “You do know him then!” He says with a grin, suddenly feeling years younger.

“Frustratingly, yes. He is the very man I was telling you about, as a matter of fact.” The Master states. To this Steven laughs to the point of boisterousness, perhaps slightly overwhelmed.

“Him? He’s the one with the car? Your enemy?”

“Indeed.” The Master says in all seriousness. “You can see why I play against him, so to speak.”

“Oh yes, absolutely. I can just see you two now, bickering until the end of time!” Steven continues with his raucous laughter. The Master glares, this only makes Steven descend further into hysterics. “You’re perfect for him!”

“Dont. Joke.” The Master insists. “You knew him too, I’m sure you were hardly an agreeable pairing.”

“That may be so, but I don’t go around sabotaging his belongings for petty revenge!”

The Master sighs, turning his back on Steven and rubbing his forehead wearily.

“So, to the Doctor you are his…?” The Master then asks distastefully, as if Steven had been the muck on the Doctor’s shoe- perhaps he had been.

“Friend. We used to travel together, decades ago for me.”

“How delightful.”

“What about you then, did you ever travel together- you and him?” Steven asks.

The Master doesn’t answer.

Suddenly Steven looks back at the doors, realising they had closed at some point during the confrontation. He knows it's irrational but he is then overtaken by a feeling of claustrophobia. The walls aren’t white yet hold the same tight, squeezing feeling. The central console, though stationary, is buzzing with energy. His ears ring with the possibilities a ship like this holds.

He needs to get out. He needs to escape. To run out, into the streets of London 1966 to stare up at the open sky again. Steven doesn’t know when he is, where he is. All he knows is that he’s unknowingly and unwillingly left his family for the strange comfort of an alien machine.

“Let me out.” The Master is startled by his nervous outburst, looking at him with wide yet impartial eyes. “Open the doors, I have to go.”

“So soon? But only a moment ago you were so keen?”

“I have to get back to my home.” Is the only explanation Steven offers.

He looks down at the central console, his eyes flitting across the panels searching for the door control. The Master makes no move to stop him. He spots it to the left of where he stands, and reaches his hand out. The rest of the world is silent barring his own thumping heartbeat.

It’s not until he presses it (it’s an odd match, the smooth control against his aged and callous hand) that he realises that, just as it had when he was young, his obsession with impulsive action had proven the wrong instinct.

The entire room jolts, wheezing and groaning with the effort of a poorly planned takeoff. That’s what it is, Steven realises- a takeoff. The central column bobs up and down ominously, while lights flicker on and off in agony at an unfamiliar pilot at the controls.

He stares up at the scanner: the picture of Uxarieus is fading from view, becoming smaller as the ship dematerialises from the forest and from the planet entirely.

“You fool!” The Master shrieks, outraged at Steven’s hasty and incorrect decision. “That was the wrong button!” He rushes forward, trying to deprogram the flight- but it is too late.

Perhaps against his better judgement, Steven shouts to the Master “Let me help, maybe we can get back!” The Master shoves him aside and Steven falls back.

“As if I’d let YOU help me!” The man spits back, clearly furious.

“Just let me-” Steven starts, before the ship stutters mid-flight and leaves him and the Master coming together again to cling onto the central console for dear life. “What’s wrong?!” This is clearly not the norm.

“We’re hurtling through space, and time, with no course!” The Master shouts back. “That was the automatic dematerialisation button, it's only for the direst of emergencies! What were you thinking?”

“I thought… I thought it was the door control!” Steven yelps back, holding in agonised sounds as his hands turn white from the pressure of clinging onto the console. “I didn’t mean-”

Before he can finish his sentence, it all goes dark. The lights suddenly dim and then go out entirely, leaving Steven and the Master in the calm before the storm.

Then the storm hits.

Steven falls back, away from the console and hurtling straight into the back wall. He shouts out in pain as he hears a distinct and painful crunch in his shoulder. Even the adrenaline rushing through him isn’t enough to help him back up on his feet, he feels almost deflated with exhaustion.

He looks around but cannot spot the Master, the man likely having fallen opposite him with his dark outfit helping to conceal him.

It’s just like travelling with the Doctor again, Steven thinks for a moment before intense guilt rushes through him. He hates how tantalising that sounds, even after all those years. To leave Uxarieus in this way was something he never thought possible, not after he’d arrived all those years ago. But he wasn’t home, this wasn’t his Tardis. And he was abandoning the home he’d built, his little family and the kingdom which relied on him.

As the Tardis jolted and flung itself around the vortex, travelling to a destination unknown, the only thing Steven felt was regret.

Chapter Text

The downpour starts at about noon, in no way easing up by five o’clock- when Steven finishes work for the day. It cascades down onto London 1972, a warforce which Steven is in no way prepared to battle- he doesn’t even own an umbrella. He shivers, pulling his business-style jacket closer to him in an attempt to fight back the spring shower.

He still regards the apparel he has donned for this time period with a mixture of both curiosity and judgement. Today, he is in professional overclothes paired with dark flared trousers- a distinct change from the kingly robes he usually wore back on Uxarieus. It’s strange, entering back into a life in which suddenly one travelled from one time period to the next, Steven had thought he’d long left that behind.

Though it has been almost a month since they landed here, on earth, Steven still hasn’t figured out a plan yet. All he can do is survive, and provide. He’s not a particularly strong salesman, but he gets by. The company enjoys his diplomatic and mature nature, believing him to be a recently-made veteran seeking work after returning to England.

Despite all the distracting challenges and worries of this sudden change in lifestyle, Steven cannot help but constantly keep his family in his mind. This is the longest he’s ever been separated from them- barring occasional trips to other planets serving as ambassador of Uxarieus. He misses his wife, the way she weathered every storm with him, a constant smile on her face as she led him through life. He misses Violetta, his eldest, she was so enthusiastic about everything she loved and talked him through every question he had. He misses Raleigh, who was going to make a wonderful ruler some day, she reminded him of himself in his younger days. He misses Dodo, who he can’t stand never to never see grow up, she was his little princess.

All in all, though Steven delights in the thrill of learning about this new life he has been unwillingly granted, he wants to go home. The Master, with his condition, makes for almost pleasant company- but that does not mean Steven is settled.

After a short walk, Steven reaches home. Pressing the key into the worn lock and rattling it several times, he manages to gain access to the flat. It’s hardly the height of luxury, a one bedroom with basic amenities which only seemed slightly mouldy and mothbitten. Steven isn’t used to such a primitive lifestyle, but remains grateful that they even secured a place to stay at all. Placing his briefcase down on the coffee table and shrugging his sodden jacket off, tossing it down onto the sofa, Steven scans the room and sees no trace of the Master.

“I’m back!” He shouts, though not so loudly as to disturb his neighbours (he’d already stared down complaint after complaint from the landlord). Despite straining his ears, he cannot hear a distinct
response.

From the kitchen (a small offshoot from the living room) Steven hears sounds, and approaches it carefully. Treading lightly, not quite with anxiety but caution, Steven wanders in through the narrow open doorway and stares ahead at a rather domestic sight.

It is the Master, surrounded by faded and raggedy cookbooks, standing at the stove stirring a steaming pot of food. The entire kitchen seems like something out of a movie, perhaps one of those old earth romantic comedies Vicki had oftentimes forced him to watch. Various cooking appliances are scattered over the limited counter space, and in the air is the sweet scent of freshly bought
ingredients.

The Master, suddenly becoming aware of Steven’s arrival, momentarily turns off the cooker and jumps around to face Steven. This makes Steven notice that, along with his practical jumper and slacks, the Master has opted for an apron lined with a dark blue floral pattern.

“I’m back.” Steven repeats, still trying to take in his surroundings. “Busy day, not to mention the rain.” He chuckles, gesturing to his sodden clothes.

Steven still isn't quite used to the manner in which the Master follows this up. “Oh, I saw! Absolutely ghastly out there isn’t it. Well I’ve lined up some fresh clothes on the bed, I thought you might need them.” The man says with a smile. “I thought I’d take my chance with dinner, it’s supposed to be tomato soup.” The Master sneers down at the pot, clearly it hasn’t gone as he had hoped.

Steven walks forward to take a look; it's not great. Chunks of tomato lay abandoned in the mixture, and there is a murky smell wafting in the air just above it.

Seeing Steven’s less than overjoyed expression, the Master’s eyes go cold and he looks down in shame.

“I suppose it’ll have to go down the drain.” He says, tutting to himself disapprovingly. “The recipe looked simple enough.”

“It’ll be fine.” Steven reassures him. “And thank you, for putting in the effort.” He tries to remain diplomatic but the domestic pull the Master now holds is strong- and getting stronger.

“Well you do so much for us.” The Master responds, and Steven can almost see faint traces of him blushing awkwardly. “I can’t do much myself, but I did think I could do soup- clearly not.” His face sours again at the end.

“It’s enough.” Steven grins at the mess that should have been soup but was instead a pale imitation. “I’m sure it’ll still be edible. Give me five minutes to change and then I’ll be here to set the table.”

Before he can leave the room to get changed out of his soaked clothes, the Master beckons him forward.

“You know, I’ve missed you today. You’re always working too much for my liking.” He starts, in that deep voice of his, indicating he wanted- and aimed to achieve- something.

“Someone’s got to take care of you.” Steven states cautiously. He knew what he was getting himself into, creating this lie, but that didn’t make the Master’s affections any less strange.

The Master moves in slowly and grasps Steven’s tie, patting down the creases with a fond look. He then looks up, gazing into Steven’s eyes with a burning look in his own dark yet still doe-like eyes.

“And you do that wonderfully, my dear.” He half-growls. “I’m very grateful. I do hate to be a burden, but I rather enjoy how much you care. I only wish I could remember… before.”

It’s hard to resist the Master’s allure, even without taking his hypnotic powers into account. Steven bites his lip, blushing at the Master’s close proximity.

“It’ll come back, you’ll see.” He mutters nervously- he both dreams for and dreads that day, if it ever arrives.

The Master sighs dramatically, half actually solemn and half seeking attention from Steven. “A month of memories isn’t much to go from, is it? I don’t know where I would be without you to help me, I’d have no one. And it sounds like there’s no one else around to miss me.”

Steven nods numbly, not quite wanting to mention the fact that the Master was himself actually one of the most wanted men in the world right now (he’s seen the warrants splashed over newspaper pages, and thrown out any trace of them before the Master could see). He still hopes the Master won’t suddenly develop cabin fever and leave the flat- that would ruin everything.

He begins to pull away but fastly finds himself held in the Master’s arms, he knows he should put his foot down and leave, but his grip is simply too tantalising to lose. On Uxareius everyone abides by a non-monogamous marriage, and Steven is no different. There is no one he misses more than his wife, but he knows that succumbing to this fresh, new partnership does their relationship no harm.

The Master, delighting in Steven’s flustered expression, pulls him in and their mouths meet with a burst of energy traditionally unbecoming of their dignified ages. Steven feels the spark of otherworldly tactile-ness that the Master brings alongside him unknowingly; it intrudes on his mind innocently. He delicately brushes it aside and focuses on the human reality they both occupy. It’s clear that the Master is enjoying this more than him, but that doesn’t mean it is an unpleasant experience.

Finally they detach from one another, the Master smiling pridefully at having ensnared and feasted upon the touch of his prey. Steven awkwardly grins, unable to form a response so soon.

“Clothes!” He suddenly announces, making his way out of the kitchen before the Master can bring him in again for another kiss. “And soup! Don’t forget to reheat it!” He dreads the taste, and thinks another blast of heat could help distract from that.

Steven turns his back on the man and leaves for the bedroom. Like the rest of the flat, it is small with only a dresser, mirror and double bed. Seeing the clothes laid out for him- a shirt, fuzzy beige sweater and, once again, flared trousers- Steven pulls off his current outfit and places it all onto the warm radiator beside the bed.

Then, resting for a moment he comes to sit at the end of the bed. He notes how the jumper prepared for him was one he’d mentioned as being a favourite; the Master had clearly remembered that.

Steven wasn’t sure how to refer to the man, in his mind. ‘Master’ was right, it was the name he had chosen for himself just as the Doctor and the Monk had. But right now he wasn’t that man, he didn’t fit in with the otherworldlyness and conventions of whatever alien species he hailed from. As of one month ago, he believed himself to be an ordinary man, living an ordinary life- or as ordinary as a house-bound recovering amnesiac in a secret partnership with another man during the 1970s could be.

Steven sighs, taking in the lie he’d crafted once again. It had seemed the only way to keep the Master close- he’d panicked and said the first thing that came to mind in order to convince the man to stay with him. Steven hated the trivialities of this time, that he and the Master would in actuality not be accepted into wider society due to societal expectation, but at least with the Master at home he had little fear of their ‘relationship’ being exposed. That didn’t mean he still wasn’t cautious however- the curtains were drawn more often than not most days.

To himself the Master was ‘Marius Taylor’ (A symbolic last name taking rather than one governed by legal ceremony, Steven had explained). Steven had seen the name in the Tardis’ database and deemed it suitable enough to give as a false moniker.

He was a normal man, just rather battered and bruised after an ‘accident’. His memory of who he had been before, as the Master, was gone. It was as if it had taken off from his mind along with the Tardis from Uxareius

Now readying himself for dinner and putting on the fresh and dry clothes, Steven thinks back to the day of the incident, when he and the Master had crash landed into earth with all the force of a rocketship falling out of orbit- and Steven knew what that felt like.

A crash like this comes in stages. When he’d first prepared for such situations in flight school, Steven had thought it silly for such an unexpectable and chaotic event to have planned, mundane steps to it as if it were simply a stage of the journey. Looking back however, after all he’s been through, Steven sees that perhaps it is mundane. Everything falls into a neat order; amidst the fear and panic there is stillness to think.

The Master’s Tardis had lurched and groaned, the wheezing sound that rattled through the ship was less so apologetic like the Doctor’s Tardis, and more so tense and spitting with fury. As if physically stuck to the roundel-covered wall, Steven watched on blindly and helplessly as he and the Master tumbled through space. He couldn’t tell if it were his own voice or the Masters shouting out into the darkness in pure instinctual fear and fury, though by the hoarseness of his throat he wondered if it were his. Steven’s entire body ached, he was by no means a young man anymore and not as physically equipped to deal with tumultuous situations like this.

Then, came the quiet. Steven knew that, objectively, it was overwhelmingly loud, but that didn’t quite reflect the true sound of the crash. Instead the ship sung and whistled, falling down and down further until it reached an as of yet imperceivable destination.

The pilot’s existence was a step in the process too- in some crashes it was unlikely for there to even be pilots alive past a certain point. Even still, Steven knew something was wrong, his shoulder joint fell loosely at his side though he had little space in his mind for the pain to occupy. The Master however was unknown to him. Steven knew he couldn't have gone far, the ship’s main interior was too small for the man to have become lost. Yet there was a sense of distance, and Steven felt disconnected and stranded from his pilot-in-chief.

The fall was sudden.

It was with a sharp, mechanical thud that the Tardis impacted into the relative dimension of its choosing after what felt like hours of travelling. Then, after the stillness of the crash, came a cacophony of sound. Steven heard the manic jungle screeching and the hot, raucous stench of burning metal, accompanied by the ringing in his head signalling a migraine.

Clutching his arm, he managed to pull himself upright as the light flickered back on. The central column slowed its pace before becoming entirely still, a static centrepiece in the moody ship.

“Master!” Steven cried out tiredly, breathing heavily with exhaustion and fright. “Did we- where are-!”

Looking down, Steven spotted the Master. He was still on the floor, limbs askew like a ragdoll with no will of his own. With those dark, warm-yet-withering eyes of his closed, the man looked almost peaceful. But Steven could hear his unrest, an invisible sort of panic fell from him in waves, crashing and coallessing about the ship. It mingled with Steven’s own terror, wrapping itself around him possessively.

Steven bent down at the Master’s side and held up his head. “Come on, you have to wake up.” Steven voiced his prayer; he couldn’t be the only survivor, not again. He didn’t even have HiFi this time, the mascot’s meaning having been absorbed back into Steven’s soul as the distance grew between Mechanus and his new life.

“You need to take me home…” He whispered, perhaps selfishly. “You have to take us back to Uxarieus.” At some point it turned from a demand to a plea.

Steven felt the back of the Master’s head and grimaced at the thick, gooey blood that trailed down his neck and stuck to Steven’s hand with the stench of gunmetal. It poured from a bruised and open wound at the bottom of his cranium and Steven cringed helplessly as he watched it flow.

Pulling off his outer robes and placing them under the Master’s head, Steven muttered: “I’m sorry, I just have to…”, before getting up and scanning the room for anything that could help. Despite his newly-forming headache, Steven tried to think back to the Doctor’s Tardis, his Tardis- scrambling across the room he opened up one of the various dark roundels and found within it a modern looking medical set. Steven supposed that perhaps it was standard procedure in all Tardis’s, to have it kept there, but in the back of his mind he wondered if the Doctor had left it there out of habit, back when he and the Master had been friends.

The kit contained various sets of bandages, sprays and strange devices for which Steven couldn’t even hazard a guess at their functions. Holding the Master’s head nurturingly, his gesture carrying a sense of desperation, he applied the spray and closed the wound. Then, with shaking hands, he wrapped the bandage around the man’s head.

Then, in a sudden move, Steven pressed his head to the Master’s chest. He could tell he was breathing, and yet he still felt he ought to check his heartbeat. It raced furiously and Steven bit back the urge to recoil in shock. The Doctor’s heart was never like this. Sure it was slightly fast, likely due to the thrill of his adventures, but it never beat what seemed like twice.

Feeling slightly shaken by that revelation, Steven left the Master to rest and went to stand against the central console.

“What now then..” He said, feeling rather silly talking to the ship. “We can’t stay here forever. I have to get home and the Master and you… well I’m sure you have things to do.” Steven rapped his knuckles against the console nostalgically. “What’s out there then? Could be anything I suppose, just like back in the day. With my luck it’ll probably just be space…” He said, stopping before his mind could wander back too far.

“He’ll be alright.” Steven promised the ship. “If this really is all my fault- and I rather think it is- then I’ll make it my duty to get him back. That’s a King’s promise, I won’t fail.” In extending his royal duties to the Master, Steven felt like he was reclaiming the control he had won for himself on Uxarieus.

Then, before he could say any more, Steven heard a groan. He rushed back to the Master’s side, where the man lay with his eyes open rubbing the bandages coiled around his head. Steven grasped his hand, moving it away from the freshly covered wound empathetically.

“Where are we..” The Master whispered.

“I’m not sure, yet.” Steven responded uncertainly. “I haven’t checked the scanner.”

“Scanner?” There was a bleary, distanced look in the Master’s eyes and he stared at Steven scrutinisingly. “Who… who are you?”

“The scanner, it’s- who am I? You don’t know?” Steven raised his brow, “I’d have thought you’d remember me, after all it’s my fault we’ve ended up… wherever here is.” He confessed desperately, trying to bring back that deep, focused sense of energy the Master had had in his eyes before everything went wrong. “It’s Steven, King Steven Taylor of Uxarieus. You do remember Uxarieus?”

“You’re not him then.” The Master whimpered and Steven was unnerved by the weakness he openly betrayed.

“Who?”

“My friend… we were… I can’t remember.” Was all the Master could reveal. “My head.” He groaned.

“You must’ve been knocked out pretty badly then.” Steven muttered to him. “In the crash.”

“What happened?” Whereas before the Master had been cunning, collected, in control, this man seemed almost frightened.

“Well I, I pressed some things I shouldn’t have.” Steven said, feeling like a guilty child. “And the ship started going haywire, then we landed.”

“Ship? Where’s the captain? Is that you?”

“What? Master, you’re the captain. And I’m just a stowaway.” Steven scoffed, “As usual.”

“I don’t understand.”

Steven stood up and began pacing, ignoring the ache in his arm. “So what do you understand then?” He said angrily, regretting his tone when he looked down and saw the Master flinch. “I’m sorry. It’s just.. It’s been a busy few hours.”

The ship was silent for a few moments as the Master collected his thoughts. “I can’t remember.” Was all he could come up with. “I can’t remember anything.” He said in horror. “My life… it's all gone.”

“Oh.” Was all Steven could respond with. “You don’t even know who you are?” He asked slowly, fearful of the answer that was sure to come.

“There’s… nothing. I don’t even know my name.”

“It’s ‘the-” Steven started before cutting himself off. He had just realised something about the way the Master was acting, all the little quirks in his movement and the way he spoke, it seemed almost… “Are you alien?”

The Master raised his brow, letting out a breathy chuckle. “Alien? I don’t understand.”

Steven froze; this man, despite his clear foreign physiognomy, believed he was as human as Steven was. This wasn’t the Master, well he was, but at the same time he was anyone but.

“Nevermind.” Steven sighed. “How about you get some more rest- that might help.” He advised wearily. While Steven knew it wouldn’t be ideal for the Master to fall back into unconsciousness, he thought that with his alien nature it couldn’t do him much harm- the same philosophy had always applied with the Doctor.

Steven was unnerved by the lack of resistance to this idea; though not having known the Master for long, an expectation of hostility was already strong. The Master nodded with a drained expression, and laid his head back down onto Steven’s robes with a muted mumble of thanks- Steven wasn’t sure why.

After checking on the Master one last time, Steven went over to the central console again. While he was now doubting his own knowledge on Tardis’s controls, he was sure he could find the scanner. The lever stood out to him, and with more clarity the muscle memory guided him to flick it downwards.

Steven looked up to see a scanner screen flicker to life, at first in black and white before transitioning into glorious colour.

At first, Steven found it hard to tell what he was looking at. He’d grown used to the stark and fresh architecture of his kingdom, a fusion of the old and the new developments as he had guided the people to unity. This however, was nothing like his home. The streets were grey, yet the people strolled down them in flashes of glaring colour. Every building was soot-marked and brickwork, yet fresh market stalls gave away an air of energy and new roots being laid down.

“Earth.” Steven muttered under his breath. He wasn’t sure how he knew that, but he was sure this was his home planet, from which he had sprung from and been spirited away from by his dreams of flying; perhaps he’d flown too close to the sun. He held back tears, thinking it childish to cry over a place he didn’t even know. And yet, this was his home. It had been decades since Steven had seen his first home, he’d almost forgotten how much he missed it.

Steven watched the scanner for what felt like hours, taking in the familiar routines and footsteps of the humans outside the ship. He saw as a mother and father walked a pram down the street and recalled the pain he felt in watching his daughters grow up without ever knowing half of the heritage, not truly. He had taught them to the best of his ability, but there were always going to be aspects of the earthly human experience they had missed out on. Violetta, Raleigh, and now Dodo weren’t even fluent in his English. They knew it well enough, from him decidedly speaking in it from time to time, but they knew nothing beyond what he had tried to teach. It stung- knowing that he was the sole carrier of his culture, a lone stranger on Uxarieus.

But here he was home. Steven thought it was possible to have two homes, three even if he counted the Tardis amongst Earth and Uxarieus. It was nice to finally revisit one of the ones he had lost, even if he was certainly not in his native time.

With a shaky hand, Steven found the proper door control and activated it. The dark doors opened with a buzz and, after taking a deep breath, Steven left the Tardis.

The doors led out into an alleyway, any view of the Tardis being narrowly obscured by the buildings on either side. Steven stepped out, and then walked past the ally and into the street. He stood there, an alien monolith against a home he’d flown away from decades ago. Self-consciously brushing down his regal attire and feeling out of place with the anachronistic fashions that appeared to be all the rage, Steven took stumbling steps towards one of the marketstalls- this one selling what appeared to be paper news bulletins.

Steven ignored the nervous looks he attracted, both at his garments and also his limp arm, and picked up one of the papers with a heavy hand and heavy heart. The date read: ‘8th April 1972’. His eyes widened, not so much in shock but more so resignation; it had been so long since he’d travelled in time yet the routine still felt natural.

He put the paper down, muttering a distracted thanks to the stall owner, before wandering back to the Tardis. While it was relatively safe here- Steven recalled that police boxes were common around this time- it still didn’t seem like a good idea to leave it unguarded, especially without a key to lock it with.

Entering the Tardis once more and shutting the doors with a sigh, Steven pondered what to do. The Master’s memory was… hazy at best. It wouldn’t be safe to just leave him and his ship here, Steven thought. Until the man’s memories of Masterhood began to return, Steven knew he had to protect him- he had made a promise to this Tardis after all. He’d made mistakes which he didn’t know how to fix, with repercussions he couldn’t ignore, and now he had to live with the consequences. For now, at least. There was no telling if- or when the Master’s memories would return.

Steven looked down at the Master’s sleeping form with a contemplative expression on his face. He knew he had to keep him close, to make sure he recovered well. They couldn’t stay in the Tardis forever, it needed locking down and left here whilst they went out to find somewhere else to stay. It would be impractical to host the Master, now seemingly unaware of his alien heritage, in a space and time machine. Steven thought that perhaps he could find some lodgings, and take the Master there once he had woken up.

But he’d still need a cover story, a reason why they needed to stay together- a reason why the Master needed him. As he stared at the man’s dark, roguish features Steven heavily doubted they could pass for brothers, nor any relation. Reluctantly, a thought popped up in his head, scaring away all other solutions.

“Look,” Steven started, pinching his brow, “It’s not ideal, but it's the best I’ve got.” He muttered to the sleeping Master. “When you wake up, I’ll be your… husband. How does that sound?” He didn’t wait for confirmation. “Husband? Is that allowed? I don’t know much about this time.” Steven spoke up again with a sudden realisation. “Well, whatever I’ll be, I’ll be a good one.”

And that was that, King Steven Taylor, king of Uxarieus, now found himself settled on earth with his newly found partner- the Master.

Chapter Text

In London 1972, in this life, every day seems to pass the same. No variations, complications, or predicaments arise. As the days go by, Steven and ‘Marius’ find themselves sucked into this unchanging bubble- Steven kisses his partner on the cheek each morning, before grabbing his case and jacket and heading off to work. Meanwhile, Marius spends his day pondering over old recipes and books Steven has brought home for him. Steven returns home to find some slapdash dinner and they eat it over polite, if not sometimes stilted conversation. Then, Marius takes the now weary Steven to bed and they ‘delight’ in one another, either by cosy rest or other means.

Though cut short later in the day, this routine starts off the morning seemingly like every other. Blushing at both the obligation as well as from newly burgeoning affection, Steven kisses Marius goodbye as he grabs his things and leaves the house. He looks back, and sees his ‘partner’ solemnly waving him off from the window. Waving back, Steven tries to shrug off his guilt at keeping the man locked up inside. Though it had been a long time, Steven still remembers the ache of isolation on the heart.

Work is… work. It’s a sharp contrast to being a King, that’s for sure. But Steven almost enjoys the mundane, grounded experience of being a salesman. For once he isn’t looked to for guidance and answers, and instead can blend into a sea of salesmen. Everyone dons their smart suits and bowler hats, and Steven has to fight the short-lived yet persistent instinct to look for an old friend in the crowds. While he had considered trying to find any trace of Oliver, perhaps even his family, Steven thought it was best to leave well alone. It had been too long- he wasn’t the Steven Taylor who had known and lost Oliver anymore. It wouldn’t be right to dig up his death as a stranger.

So instead he pushes those thoughts aside and focuses on the bemusedly boring work of selling shoes. It’s certainly dull, but it's easier than television sets. Steven recalled how awful he had been at that, and hoped that with age came a slightly better manner and skill at sales. It’s odd, suddenly now remembering everything that happened back with the Doctor. Steven isn’t sure he’s ever thought about those weeks spent in 1960s London, trying to get back to the Tardis after the Vardans had separated him from it, since he left the Doctor. It’s almost like he’s falling back into the quirks and memories of who he used to be. Steven shivers at the idea, he doesn’t want his youth back- he only wants to go forward. That’s all he ever can do, it's not possible to return to the past, no matter what the Doctor says- used to say.

Smiling at the few successes he’s earned so far that day, Steven follows his orders and travels from door to door down the street. Some buy, some don’t. He tries to keep his temper (once again rising up as it had done in his youth) down, but he can’t help feeling frustrated. Without the extra money from these commissions, he and Marius may struggle to keep their apartment. The landlord had already been patient with them, but Steven wasn’t keen to get on his bad side.

It seems to be a fairly affluent area with neatly horizontally stacked homes lined with perfect gardens and spotless cars parked up every driveway. Steven scoffs at their indistinguishable exteriors and guesses that every interior is also the same. When he rings the doorbell, the people either greet him with a dismissive scoff, or overeagerness as if they live a life so boring that even just the sight of a shoe salesman is enough to break their usual routine.

However, as Steven walks down the street, he notices one outlier. On the surface this house looks as ordinary as every other, yet as Steven looks at it he sees how separate it actually is. The garden is messy and disorganised, a barrage of various plants and flowers lay uncoordinated in front of the house; a pair of abandoned wellies lie amongst them. The car, an older model, is unwashed. There is a general feeling of peculiarity about the place, though amongst the boring sameness of every other house Steven hardly thinks that a bad thing.

As though pulled by the allure of the out-of-place-house, Steven pushes aside the other houses on his list and marches straight to it. Unlike the other houses which had state of the art bells, this house hosted an antique bronze knocker. He rings it several times before positioning himself professionally, ready to sell some shoes.

He hears a clumsy scramble and wonders about the type of person who could occupy a place like this. Perhaps they were out of place too, lost amongst the rush of modernity- Steven knew how that felt. On Uxarieus, on his home, he was entire segments of time beyond where he’d been born; it was a very alienating feeling, even more so than the feeling of travelling in the Tardis.

Shaking his head and banishing those melancholy thoughts, Steven straightens up and looks straight ahead as, with a creak, the door opens.

She is not so much a girl anymore, but a woman. Her hair falls in a short neat bob around her rounded face, and while her wide eyes seem more experienced and less careless, there is still a sense of bemusement and wonder about her face. Her style hasn’t changed much aside from small adjustments made as trends changed- her outfit is made up of a knee-length navy blue polka dot dress with peter pan collar and puffed sleeves.

At first she looks at Steven unknowingly, a placid smile on her face as she gets ready to hear him drone on about whatever he plans on promoting. Steven stares back, preparing his best fake grin out of desperation for at least one more sale.

But then the world stops, just for a moment.

She looks at him again, properly looks this time. Her brow furrows as she takes in every line on his face and counts every grey hair, the amount of which is now greater than anything brown. She stares into his tired blue eyes, she knows that look more than anyone else in the world- in the universe even.

“St.. Steven?” She whispers, daring to hope.

He looks at her again, properly looks this time. She’s older, naturally, of course so is he. But while it's been decades for Steven, only 5 or so years must’ve passed for her. Steven recalls their goodbye, the way he’d yearned to bring her with him so that they both wouldn’t be alone. He thinks back to his own little girl back on Uxareius and his heart aches as he stares into the eyes of her namesake once more, after he never thought he would again.

“Dodo?” Steven stands in her doorway, half a stranger and half the only person who truly knew her.

Dodo holds her hand to her mouth in shock, welling up dramatically. “Steven!” She rushes forward and closes the distances between them with a firm hug. “It’s you, really you! I mean you’re… you’re old. But it’s still you!”

Steven lets out a noise as Dodo wraps her arms around him strongly, it reminds him of the hugs his daughters gave him just before he embarked on diplomatic missions away from home. “Old?” He scoffs, “I’m not old, not yet! It’s you who’s gotten older!”

Letting out a watery laugh, Dodo giggles and presses up against Steven even closer. “‘M not old, I just grew up.”

“Without me?” Steven quips back fondly, “Couldn’t you wait?”

“This isn’t funny!” Dodo responds with a sniffle. “It’s been years, I thought I’d never see you again, I didn’t know if you even-”

Sensing she was about to work herself into a frenzy, Steven presses his finger to her mouth and rubs her back soothingly. “Look, I’m alright, I made it. Even if it may not seem like it, you’re looking at the King of an Uxariean kingdom.” He boasts.

“Uxariean?” Dodo queries.

Steven realises that back then, when they were all simply travellers, they hadn’t been rewarded much time to learn about the planet of the savages of the elders, as it was divided to be back then. “It’s the planet I… I stayed on. I did alright for myself, you know.”

“Right, right.” Dodo sniffles. Steven wonders if she’s overtaken by emotions or simply has a cold again. She presses her face into Steven’s suit jacket- he is sure he’ll have to wash it later. “I’ve missed you.” She mutters. “I’ve missed these hugs, though you’re a bit cosier now.”

Steven scoffs and raises his eyebrow. “Hey!”

“I never said that was a bad thing. ‘S nice.” She says, still snuggling against him.

“Is it alright if I…” Steven indicates into the house, eager to get away from any nosy neighbours. “What would your neighbours think if they saw me on your doorstep?”

Dodo shrugs, pulling away from Steven and welcoming him in. “Dunno, they’d probably think you were me dad or something.”

Steven is very glad when Dodo starts walking in ahead of him, it gives him time to wipe away the tears.

“Come in!” She shouts back joyfully, “I’ll make tea!” Steven laughs to himself as he hears her stumble through to presumably the kitchen- she always did let her emotions get the better of her. “How do you take your- nevermind, I remember.” He hears her mutter as the kettle hisses away excitedly over her voice.

Steven walks through the hallway and through to the living room, awaiting Dodo’s arrival with tea and biscuits. Suddenly he feels out of place, this is a normal family home and yet here he is, interrupting Dodo’s new life with his otherworldlyness. The house is grand and elaborately furnished, yet little eccentricities scream out and tell Steven exactly who lives here without needing a second glance.

“So…” Steven starts awkwardly, adrenaline still hampering his ability to form a competent sentence. “You’re what, twenty now?”

“Twenty-two!” Dodo chimes up, walking into the living room and placing down a tray of tea accoutrements. She slumps down onto the sofa next to Steven.. “I’m not a kid anymore Steven.”

“And this house is yours?” Steven asks sceptically, eyeing up the posh furnishings and scale of the place.

“It is now. It was left to me by my aunt.” Dodo explains.

“I’m sorry-” Steven tries to be empathetic but Dodo stops him in his tracks.

“Don’t be. She wasn’t a very nice person. I only got this place because well, there was no one else.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you- for everything.” Steven says suddenly. “I was supposed to take care of you and I just left like nothing mattered.”

Dodo takes his large hand into hers, trying to soothe his anxieties. “You had to go.”

“But-”

“No buts! You were stuck, stuck with me and the Doctor. That doesn’t mean we didn’t have fun, but you needed to get out before you really did get trapped.”

“I left you- I left the Doctor!” Steven says. “After all we’d been through and I just left him, I mean did he ever forgive me?”

“Of course he did!” Dodo reassures him, “You know I think your memory’s going a bit in your old age. He wanted you to go, made sure Jano and Chal knew you were fit for the job.”

Steven had replayed the scene in his mind so often that he supposed parts had slipped. Thinking back, it was like watching a flickering screen for some movie or other rather than his own life. Parts jolted uncertainly, like a broken record player. Some parts were lost to him, split apart by the decades long distance from his farewell.

“How… How was he? After I left?” He asks, dreading the answer for fear of the Doctor’s state. Perhaps he was overemphasising his importance, but Steven thought he kept the Doctor going a lot of the time.

Dodo looks down solemnly, playing with a loose thread on her high socks for a moment before answering. “For a while it was hard. We both missed you, even though we knew you leaving was for the best- maybe that made it harder. But we coped, got back up on our feet. We’re made of strong stuff.”

Steven doesn’t respond. They both sip their too-hot tea nervously, having both too much and also nothing more to say.

Steven takes a large gulp of the stuff, gasping as it burns the roof of his mouth. Dodo laughs- he’d forgotten how much he missed that laughter. This takes some of the tension out of the room, and Dodo resumes the conversation.

“Did you say ‘King’ earlier?” She asks, wide eyed like a child begging for a story. “What’s all that about then? D’ya have to wear a crown or something? Do you get in trouble if you don’t?” She eyes up Steven’s clear lack of a crown curiously.

“A crown?” Steven laughs, “Don’t be ridiculous! It just means I’m in charge, nothing fancy like that.”

“Oh.” Dodo almost seems disappointed. “So, if you’re king, does that mean you’ve got a queen, or another king…?” She asks slowly.

“Well she’d have your head if she heard you call her that!” Steven chuckles, bemused by the idea of his wife in any way being called his queen. “But yes, I am married.”

“Any little princes or princesses running around then?”

Steven smiles, he hasn’t been able to talk about his family for weeks and now he finally has a chance. “Three little princesses, though they’re not so little anymore I’m afraid.” He sighs, missing those earlier years. “There’s my eldest two, Raleigh and Violetta- they’re almost all grown up.”

“And…?” Dodo prompts him to continue. Steven looks at her adoringly, recalling exactly why he’d always been so fond of her.

“Then there’s my youngest. She's still at the age where she thinks it's cool to spend time with her dad, so I’ll take that as a win.” Steven gives a cheeky grin. “Guess what she’s called.”

Dodo stops and thinks; Steven is bemused at the way her brow furrows in deep thought.

“How should I know?” Is all she says, “For all I know it could be something completely alien!”

“Well it’s not exactly a conventional name, but it suits her.” Steven takes a deep breath and decides it's time to just bite the bullet and say it- it's not like he gets this kind of chance every day. “It suits you too.”

“What?” Dodo stops, her eyes widening as if she can’t quite believe what Steven has said.

“I named her Dodo.”

“You… you named your daughter after me?” Dodo stutters in shock, tears welling up in her eyes once more. “I don’t understand. Dodo?”

“Yep.” Steven states, popping the p. “Not Dorothea, just Dodo. I remember how much you hated that name.”

“But why?”

Steven shakily laughs at her disbelief, “It was right. She’s nothing like you mind, but it felt right.”

“But why me? Why not someone else, someone you…” Dodo says, trailing off at the end in fear of upsetting Steven. He supposes he always had been rather sensitive about Dodo talking about the past back then, it had hurt too much for him to hear her acknowledge all that had happened.

“That wouldn’t have meant anything. All it would be is a reminder of what I’d lost. But you… you stayed. I didn’t let you down.”

“Oh Steven.” Dodo starts to sob, and Steven takes her into his arms comfortingly. “You never let me down, ever.” She murmured whilst Steven cradled her. “Now look at me, a grown woman sobbing like a child.”

“It really has been a while since we last did this, hasn’t it.” Steven says softly. “Well it's like what I always tell my girls: no matter how old you get, you’ll always be my…”

Dodo stares up at him with those wide, expressive eyes she hasn’t lost. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too Dodo.”

For a while they sit silently, holding one another closely as if trying to make up for missing time; years for Dodo, decades for Steven. She studies the lines on his face, and in turn he looks at her and sees how much she’s changed too.

“You know what.” Steven starts up again after a while, chuckling to himself amusedly. “I think this has officially cost me my job. The people in charge certainly won’t tolerate me just leaving halfway through the day for this.” Dodo looks at him concernedly, but Steven tries to reassure her. “It’s alright though- It was worth it.” He can tell she’s curious about his job, but shakes his head at her questioning- he can’t delve into that just yet.

Dodo nods with a sniffle and stands up, taking away the now devoured pack of biscuits and cold tea. Her hands shake as she carries the tray, but she smiles at Steven as she leaves the room.

Steven follows not far behind, coming to watch as she hastily cleans the mugs. “I’ve got to do it now or else I’ll forget for weeks.” She laughs to herself.

“Some things never change then.” Steven quips sarcastically, Dodo whips her head around to glare at him in mock outrage.

Then Steven scans the kitchen, and notices the dirty plates stacked up neatly on seemingly every surface. He takes note of cups and various kitchenware left abandoned on the dining table, as well as various ingredients left seemingly halfway through cooking scattered about the room.

“It’s a big house for just you.” He sighs, “I hope you’re taking care of yourself.”

“Don’t you worry about me, I am!” Dodo says, “Just a bit busy with work right now is all.”

“Work?”

“Well I have to earn a living somehow! A paper run just isn’t going to cut it now that I’m grown.” Dodo replies petulantly.

“Oh, right.” It’s hard not to still see her as the teenager Steven had known. “What is it you do then? Did you ever open up that… what was it, that nature park you wanted to?”

“I’ll have you know it was going to be an animal rescue place! But no, I didn’t get round to that- not yet at least.” Dodo sighs, “Just not enough time or money for that.”

“What do you do then?”

“Stars.” Is Dodo’s first response before she puts down the washing up and turns to face Steven, beginning to gesticulate wildly as she talks. “You see, it all started with computers- with Sir Charles after that whole WOTAN business. Then I moved on from-”

“Dodo!” Steven interrupts her not unkindly, “You know I don’t mind when you get enthusiastic, but please start from the beginning again. Who’s Sir Charles, and WOTAN?”

“Oh, well that was after you left of course.” Dodo realises, “That was when I… when I left the Doctor.” Steven raises his eyebrow and Dodo shrugs. “I’d have stayed with him forever, you know that. But things got in the way, time passed too quickly and by the time I was ready to go with him he’d gone.”

“Without you? You mean he just…”

“He took me home.” Dodo states matter of factly. “Not that I wanted to go home, but that was where he thought it best I stayed.”

“And was it? Are you happy now, properly happy?” Steven asks.

Dodo is quiet for a moment before putting on a wide grin. “Yes, very happy. I’ve got everything I could ever need here, and besides I had to grow up sometime, didn’t I?” She doesn’t sound convinced. “Alice had to leave Wonderland, it’s the same principle.” Steven isn’t so sure but tries to move on for now.

He then tries to bring Dodo back to their original conversation. “So, Sir Charles, how does he come into all this?”

“Well I was staying at his house for a bit, recovering after…” She stops, looking at Steven worriedly before retracing her steps. “I was having some time to myself after an adventure. He got me doing some work for him with computers and that all spiralled into me working with him for a bit, then I moved onto various other things.”

“And now… stars?”

“Yes! I went from computers to studying space and astronomy. Stars are my favourite, we find and chart new ones every day, I mean you should see the sorts of things we find out in space Steven, it's terrific!”

“I can imagine.” Steven remembers how he, Dodo and the Doctor had watched the earth’s final moments from the Ark- a planet in its last hours of life swallowed up by the ravenous and ultimate power of the sun; it had been both beautiful and poignant for the travellers. “I always used to love the stars too, my parents gave me an astral map one christmas and I was hooked. Maybe that’s why I became a pilot, to see them all.” Steven notes in a sad tone. Looking back always made him sad, especially thinking about his youth. Everything pre-Mechanus was a blur, nothing that had happened before then didn’t quite feel real to king Steven anymore.

Dodo sees his expression start to sour and tries to keep the conversation going whilst also steering him away from sadness. “Anyways, I’m quite good at the systems now- people at work ask me for help, imagine that- they want me!” She says happily; Steven smiles at her, glad she seemed to have found a new passion. “I’m even off on a trip in a few months, me and a couple mates are flying over to America to study at ‘Yerkes Observatory’- it looks amazing, it has the biggest refracting telescope in the world, and the floor even moves to get to it! Doesn’t it sound fab?”

Steven grins at her enthusiasm. “I’m sure it’ll be great.” He promises her. “We’ve got various telescope facilities on Uxarieus, I wish I could show you them all.”

Dodo beams hopefully, “Well you could, couldn’t you? How’d you get here anyways, I thought you were in the far future- or was the Doctor wrong about that? Did you get here by spaceship, where’s it parked then?” She continues with a barrage of questions until Steven coughs politely, knocking her out of her thoughts and back to reality.

“It’s… a long story.” Is all he can come up with.

“I’ve got time, so have you if that whole job thing doesn’t work out.” Dodo encourages him, “I’ve got to do my weekly shop, if you come with me then you can tell me everything.”

“You’re only saying that because you want me to carry your bags, aren’t you.” He knows this routine well, it may have been a long time but he’s still well aware of Dodo’s ways.

“It’s heavy work! You’re strong. Come on, it won’t take long I promise.” She responds, grabbing some bags from a hook on the wall and marching to the front door to put her shoes on.

“You haven’t seen me in years and the first thing you want me for is to carry your shopping!” He’s not mad, not really. He’ll do anything for Dodo, even the mundane domestics. Maybe this way they could be a family again.

“And to give you an excuse to complain about why you’re here.” She laughs as Steven raises his eyebrows. “Steven, you’re a king and yet now somehow you’re a salesman. I know you can’t be happy about that. And besides, I know there must be a good story behind that. Indulge me won’t you?” She appeals to Steven with her best puppy dog eyes and he has no choice but to give in.

“Well alright then.” He sighs and takes a bag from her. “But I’ll have to be back home for six- my… my partner will have dinner ready by then.”

“Oh?” Dodo is intrigued. “Now I really am curious. Well, come along then- tell me everything!”

Chapter Text

“Plates?”

“Check!”

“Forks and knives?”

“Check check!”

“What about the-”

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

The scene in the Taylor household is chaotic to say the least. Steven stands to attention, neatly fixing his jumper and trying to assuage Marius’ fretting. Marius paces around the kitchen correcting every minute misplacement and cooking mistake. Steven is helping him cook: it’s to be a dinner of fresh pasta with sauce and chicken, topped off with some home made garlic bread which admittedly was starting to look rather delicious.

“I just want to make a good first impression.” Marius explains nervously. “If I’d known she was in town then I’d have tidied up a bit more.

“Everything’s already spotless.” Steven reassures him. It’s not like there’s much else to do on your own besides clean. He remembers his own isolation, that room had been sterile white and free of dust and grime for two years straight for a reason. “And I am sorry to spring this on you, if you don’t want to then-”

Marius stops him in his tracks, “No, don’t you dare cancel on her. She’s your daughter after all, and you both clearly want to reconcile. And besides, I should like to meet her, it’s been.. A while since I spoke to someone who wasn’t you.”

Nodding, Steven takes the plates out from the overhead cabinet and places them down on the countertop with a conclusive thud.

“So you say I’ve never met this ‘Dodo’ before?” Marius pushes gently, “But we have talked about her?”

“Well we’ve been.. Out of contact for a while. I told you about her when we first got to know each other but not much since.” Steven makes sure to build a solid backstory yet he worries that his tone comes across as unconfident. “But I told her all about you when we saw each other last week, she’s all up to date on your.. Condition.”

Marius briefly glares at Steven, regretting it immediately. “I just wish I could meet her as myself.”

“You’re still yourself.” Steven stutters nervously. “Memories aren’t as important as… as the human spirit.” But deep down he knows his partner is so very far from that, no matter how much Marius believes his strange heartbeat to just be down to a genetic condition.

In response Marius scoffs, “You don’t know what it’s like. You’ve never lost anything let alone your memories.”

Steven knows he’s just unaware but the comment still stings. He should be honest, it’s the one thing Marius deserves, but revealing his old life would open up even deeper discussions he wasn’t ready for. Marius didn’t need to know about that. But maybe he could open up even just slightly, in the name of keeping his partner’s thirst for knowledge (or perhaps camaraderie) satiated.

“I..” Steven pinches his brow in thought. “There are some things I can’t remember. It’s been years though, maybe I’d have naturally forgotten it all by now anyway.” That was a lie and he knew it, whenever he thought of her he longed for the memories of that time back.

“Oh?” Marius raises his eyebrow. Steven knows what this means: he won’t rest until he knows everything.

Deciding to be useful in setting up, Steven grabs the cutlery from a drawer and begins laying it out on the table. “I spent some time living in London before, you know. With two… friends. Well, one friend really.”

Steven takes a deep breath and tries to push himself further. “It was about twenty years ago now, we’d.. It was in the fifties.” He gives a small smile at the truth of that statement. “It was just the two of us. We had to share a lumpy sofa, couldn’t cook to save our lives, everyone seemed out to get us and the people we’d met, but it was…”

“Peaceful?”

Steven looks up from setting the table and sees Marius’ sympathetic expression.

“Yes.”

Marius walks over to him, takes the remaining cutlery away and starts laying it down himself- Steven realises his hands are shaking.

“And what happened to your memory? You seem to know more about that time than I do about my entire life.” Marius says jealously.

“I’m sorry- I just.. I can still remember facts and dates and events- but nothing more. I know we slept on that sofa, but I can’t remember how bad it actually was. We kept trying to cook, I know that, but I don’t know what we did when we failed. I know we made friends, but I can’t remember their faces or how we left things.” Steven sighs as his mind continues to fail him. “It’s all the most important things, all the little details with her that I’ve lost.”

Marius finishes with the cutlery and goes to check the steaming pot of pasta on the stove. “Well it seems to me that you miss her more than the memories.” He suggests curiously. “Do you… Still miss her?”

Steven bites his lip fearfully. “I’ve been without her for decades more than I was with her.”

“You miss her.” Marius spits out irritatedly. “No, no.” He takes back his anger soon after. “I’m sure I must miss people too. I can’t blame you.” He pats the almost healed (Steven had been shocked at quickly it had begun to fix itself) wound on his head, eyes squinting as if trying to pull the memories out of the void and back into his mind. “I miss… Nevermind. What was her name?”

“Sara.” Steven smiles thinking back to her and that happy time before everything went wrong. He loved his new life, the one he’d left back on Uxarieus, but sometimes he still wondered what could have been. “Her name was Sara.”

Marius, unsure of how to respond, goes quiet and begins prepping himself to take the homemade garlic bread from the oven. He grabs a patterned oven glove; he and Steven share laughter at its garishness.

Then Marius coughs and starts up the conversation again. “You spent how long together in London with this Sara?

Steven, trying to conceal his sadness, mumbles an answer. “Not long, only a week or two. But I knew her for a while after that, until she…”

“Oh, I am sorry.” Marius seems genuinely sympathetic to Steven’s loss, something Steven wouldn’t have anticipated from the Master. “And then… there was Dodo?” His eyebrow raises as if trying to figure something out. “How old is she again?”

“Twenty two.” Steven states dismissively, now focused on scrubbing one of the used trays they had cooked the garlic bread in.

“I see. Well I’m sorry for both of you.” Marius responds. “I’m sure she was an incredible woman. And I am glad you and Dodo are in contact again, I truly am happy for you both. I would hate to see a family divided any more.”

“Well after her great aunt-” Steven stops as he hears the antiquated ring of the doorbell. “That’ll be her.” His tone is serious but his eyes betray his true emotion: joy.

“I’ll get it!” He tells Marius who begins plating up the meals.

Steven rushes to the hallway, almost tripping as he does so, and straight to the front door. Hastily he pulls open the door and Dodo gives him a nervous but still beaming smile as she looks up to see him.

“Steven!” She takes him into a quick hug before walking herself past the threshold and into the sanctity of Steven and Marius’ shared home. “Fab place you’ve got!” Though her eyes wander to the damp sideboard and flaky eggshell wallpaper.

“Good to see you too Dodo.” Steven laughs at her continual enthusiasm.

“So, is… he in there?” Dodo drops her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Your lover?”

Steven splutters and Dodo giggles at his outrage. “‘Lover’? You know it’s a lot more complicated than that. We’ve gone over this.”

“I’m only joking! Though, in terms of lovers, you two do seem to fit the bill.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean exactly?” Steven questions petulantly.

“Well…” Dodo shrugs. “I won’t pry into what goes on behind closed doors, whatever it is you and him get up to….”

“Dodo!” Steven tries to keep his voice down. “You can’t just… Dodo!” He has to keep reminding himself that she’s far from the young girl he’d travelled with.

He takes her coat and hangs it up, and is ready to bring her through to the dining room before a sudden wave of anxiety hits him.

“You won’t say anything… strange will you?” Steven lightly pleads. “Anything Doctor-related I mean.” He amends his phrasing upon seeing Dodo’s accusing look. “I just want Marius to have an ordinary life, for as long as he can at least.”

“So no Doctor, no Tardis, no time and space travel, no you being from the future and him being an alien who’s a wanted criminal. Got it.” Dodo counts Steven’s requests up on her fingers cheekily. “Simple enough.”

Steven, giving a relieved sigh at Dodo’s reassuring expression, takes her by the arm and begins walking her to the dining room. “And remember, you’re supposed to be my daughter.”

“I knowww.” Dodo says in a sing-song voice. “But that doesn’t mean you have to parent me, I’m a grown woman.”

“If you say so.”

“Hey!”

The pair cease their bickering as they enter the dining room. Marius looks up from placing down plates and sends a warm smile Dodo’s way. Leaving behind his current task he walks over to Dodo, raises his eyebrow asking for permission, and then gives her a light hug, kissing her on both cheeks politely.

“Oh, hello!” Dodo seems surprised at his manner but allows it all the same. “Nice to meet you.”

“My dear, it’s a delight to have you here.” He welcomes her eagerly. “You know, I was beginning to think I’d never see anyone but your father again- sorry Steven, you know I don’t mean that badly!”

“Or do you, he’s difficult to deal with at the best of times.” Dodo teases. “Gets in an awful huff at the smallest things, even just if-”

“That’s enough Dodo!” Steven jokes before turning to Marius, “Is everything ready?”

Marius nods, moving quickly to put the finishing touches into the setup. Steven beckons for Dodo to take a seat around the small round three-person table just past the kitchenette. Taking her drink order (it still seems odd to be serving her wine), Steven goes over to grab what she wants and brushes past Marius working on loading the bread onto a board.

“She seems lovely.” Marius whispers reassuringly. “I can see she’s got your eyes.”

“Well.. but they’re not even the same colour-”

“No, it’s not the colour I was talking about. You both have.. A look. Stars in your eyes, that’s what it is.” Marius concludes analytically. “She can tell me about them, I remember you said that’s her job, and you… you can take me to them.”

“What?” Steven almost drops the drink he’s preparing.

“Let’s leave this all behind dear, let’s go and see the stars together.”

“I don’t-”

Marius sees Steven’s stunned look and quickly tries to reassure him. “I’m only joking!” He laughs, Steven tries to play along.

“Oh, a joke. Right.” Steven hoarsely chuckles. Marius wasn’t being serious, he didn’t know the truth of it all. He’d never heard of strange machines and men who whisked you away across time and space. He didn’t know that once upon a time Steven himself had walked the stars in search of purpose. He didn’t know Steven had found it when he crashed down on..

“Don’t act so surprised.” Marius nudges Steven’s side teasingly. “As if we’d ever make it up there, who’d let us?”

“I would.” Steven jokingly promises. Marius is a good man, perhaps he deserves to see the world beyond earth. “I’d show you them all.”

He finishes pouring the wine and brings it to Dodo, she nods approvingly as if she knows anything about wine.

At last he and Marius finish serving up the pasta and the three of them sit down to eat.

“Now this is good!” Dodo exclaims as she digs into the meal, “Can’t remember the last time I had something so tasty.”

“Do you cook much for yourself?” Marius asks conversationally.

“Mostly.” Dodo shrugs. “But I’m not a great cook, never have been.”

“Perhaps we shall have to come to yours and make you something, I really do want to improve my cooking.”

“Why? This is perfect!” Dodo chirps back. “But I’ll never say no to visitors, makes the house feel alive.”

“I’m sure it must.” Marius gives a gentle smile. “How does that sound Steven?” Steven can tell he’s testing the waters.

“Well…” Steven is quiet for a second as he chews on his pasta before loudly placing his fork down with a clunk. “We’ll see.” He tries to use his best authoritative tone whilst remaining diplomatic.

“Come now, surely it won’t do us any harm?”

“We’ll talk about it later.” Steven concludes.

“Anyways!” Dodo sees Steven’s furrowed brow and tries to move on. “Anyways, anyways…” She nervously picks at her food. “So… How’s your head.. Mr Tay- Mas- Marius!”

“Marius is just fine dear. And I am well enough, considering.” Marius answers stiffly. “I’m just grateful I’m not alone, I mean what would I have done without my ‘saviour’?” He jokes.

Steven tries to smile along but the nagging memory of his frenzy causing the incident still weighs heavily. “Yes well I just try my best.”

“As you always do, I’m sure.” Marius nudges Steven in the side affectionately. “Have you told Dodo the story of how we met yet? If she wants to hear that sort of sob story from her father.”

“I haven’t.” Steven takes a deep breath, trying to catch himself up with the lies he’s constructed for conversations like this. “Well.. where to begin…”

“I’ve heard the start is usually the best place.” Marius laughs loudly at his own joke.

“We were.. Marius used to work in sales too. We worked at the same company in fact, didn’t realise it until we both complained about the same manager. A few years ago we met at a conference and hit it off. Then things went from there, and here we are today.”

Steven smiles at Dodo’s engaged nodding. “I’d been alone for a while and so had Marius. But… when we found each other we knew we’d be alright.” He takes a large swig of his drink to ease his dry mouth. “We just have to be careful.”

“And careful we are, my dear.” Marius assures him.

For a while the group eat in silence, the only noise occupying the room being brief sounds of chewing and the clink of knives and forks against their slowly emptying plates.

“Where did you grow up Dodo?” Marius suddenly asks. Steven’s eyebrows shoot up and Dodo looks at him nervously.

“Well…” She starts undecidedly. “I.. I had mum and dad for a while, in a boxy old flat down by Wimbledon Common.” Marius nods along. “And then mum… I spent most of my time with Great-Aunt Margaret after that. She moved me closer to the school she wanted me at, I didn’t like it much though.”

“I am sorry about your mother.” Dodo gives Marius a flat, simple smile in response to his sympathies.

“Thanks.” She then replies and goes back to her dinner for a moment before looking back up. “I know it's been years but I still miss her, I really do.”

“She’d be proud of you.” Steven says heavily. He knows he never knew the woman, but the least he can do is try. “You’ve done a lot to be proud of.”

“Oh, Stev- Dad!” Dodo hastily corrects herself, Steven hopes before Marius notices. “Dad, you don’t have to say that just to make me feel better!”

“It’s true! You’ve come so far Dodo.” She blushes, seemingly momentarily embarrassed.

“All down to you really.” By this point she’s drunk about half of the glass of wine (as have Steven and Marius with their own) and is starting to look rather flushed. “All down to you, I’d say good job but I think you’ve moved on from needing my compliments.”

“She’s got your wit.” Marius remarks, laughing at the petulant expressions the pair are making at one another. “Cheeky just like her father.”

“I’m not cheeky!” For a moment Steven wonders why it feels so easy to slip into this role of fatherhood, but then he recalls everything that had happened since he’d last known Dodo.

He’d grown up. Learnt how to be the father his children needed, a man who this time wouldn’t just leave his daughters for another world (no matter how much it may need him). He’d left Dodo, perhaps he’d failed her after all in that aspect. But now he was back; and yet that wasn’t enough. In embracing this role, adopting this persona of parenthood, he had lost another. He had Dodo, his first Dodo, but not his own Dodo. She was light years away, frozen in time until he returned. And Raleigh and Violetta, though now almost this Dodo’s age, still needed him. But there was no way home, the Master’s Tardis was sat dark and abandoned in an alleyway some miles away with no way of reactivating the controls. Though surrounded by ‘family’ in this warm scene of domesticity, Steven suddenly felt alone.

“Are you alright? Steven?” Steven looks up from his half-empty plate and sees Marius and Dodo looking at him concernedly.

“I’m fine.” He tries to reassure them both. “Just.. thinking.”

Sharply he pushes his chair away and stands up. “I’ll be back, you can both keep eating.”

He leaves the room with haste and makes his way to he and Marius’ shared bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Bending down on the floor next to the bed with a groan (he really was getting old, wasn’t he), Steven pulls out a looking briefcase from underneath the bed and opens it with a code and a click.

From it he takes various items, including the Master’s dark tunic set and his own kingly robes- still stained with alien blood. Then Steven catches a glimpse of what he wants folded underneath his undershirt and grabs it with shaky hands.

It’s a holo-picture. Glistening blurrily and half-fractured from the crash, but still functioning. The photograph it depicts is one from years ago, back when Dodo was a newborn. When his wife, along with their two daughters, had visited the hospital they’d had this photo taken as a celebration of the perfect little family they’d carved out for themselves. Steven lay in bed, little Dodo clinging to his chest, while the rest of his family gave admiring looks and his wife mopped his brow. The photo jolts and moves unnaturally in its frame; Steven glares at the scratches and blemishes that have become part of the memory now.

Yet his glare softens as he looks closer, ignoring the imperfections and letting his own memory fill in the gaps. He presses his thumb against the faint lines of his wife’s overjoyed face, stroking the image as if it could bring her back to him. She’d.. Understood him. She knew who he was and what he wanted from this new life. He loves her, he truly does.

He gives a nostalgic smile as he looks at the young faces of his two eldest daughters. He spots Raleigh’s tooth gap where she’d snagged it on an apple too soon and it’d left a long-staying mark. He notes Violetta’s tiny hands clutching a small homemade mascot tightly, she was looking between it and her family in the frames that were blurring and fading in and out of existence.

“Miss you…” He whispers softly, too quiet for even himself to hear.

Then, upon hearing footsteps, Steven panics and hastily shoves the holo-picture into his trouser pocket before tossing everything else back into the briefcase. Guiltily he looks up and sees not Marius, but Dodo.

“Oh, it’s you.”

“Yes it’s me Steven, would you have preferred Marius come in and open up that can of worms? I can see you’re upset.”

“I’m fine.” Steven tries to lie but it’s clear Dodo isn’t buying it. “You can go back to your food, don’t fuss about me.”

“Just wanted to see how you were.” She says, coming to kneel beside him on the floor. “Whatcha doing?”

“I needed a moment.” He confesses. “Being with you and Marius.. I couldn’t help but remember…”

Steven sighs and pulls out the crumpled holo-picture. Though reluctant to let it go, he passes it to Dodo.

Dodo’s eyes widen as she looks at the glitching image,

“What- what is this?”

“It’s my family, the day-”

“Well I get that.” Dodo quickly adds. “But what is this, is it a photo? Why’s it moving?” She holds the picture up in front of her eyes as if that could help her understand.

Steven chuckles, “Ah, I’d forgotten you wouldn’t know. It’s a holo-picture, quite common in my time.”

“But gear to me! I mean how does it even-” She stops herself. “Nevermind that. You say that’s your family?”

Steven points out each member to her, as if this would breach the gap between his old life with her and his new life with them. She smiles as she takes in the happy scene; Steven sees her eyes watering up at the sight of a young, tiny Dodo.

“You did alright for yourself then, I can tell.”

“I miss them.” Steven mutters breathlessly. “I wish you could.. I wish we could all be together.”

Sighing, he takes the photo away and packs it back into the case. He pushes it back under the bed as Dodo stands up once more.

“Dodo, could you..” Steven holds his hand up for her to take. “I’m not as young as I used to be.” For a moment she seems sad as her eyes glance down at Steven’s older appearance and demeanour, but quickly agrees to help him.

She grasps it firmly and helps to pull him up. “Come on then, old man. Your Marius’ll be wondering where you’ve gone.”

“He’s not ‘my’ Marius!” Steven protests.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Just before they go to rejoin Steven’s partner, Dodo pulls him into a gentle hug.

“I’m proud of you too Steven. And the Doctor would be too, you know he was more fond of you than he ever let on. You’ll get to see your home again, I know you can do it, I know you.”

Steven simply nods numbly, ruffling Dodo’s hair and then leaving the shallow hallway for the warm light of the dining room once more.

“There you are!” Marius stands up when he sees Steven enter, “I was rather beginning to worry you’d managed to get lost!”

“Well if I did, then Dodo found me.” Steven jokes throatily.

Steven sits down, takes a large swig of his drink and tries to resume his meal like nothing happened. Dodo and Marius share concerned glances yet appease him by busying themselves with mundane conversation about the weather, housekeeping and jokes about Steven’s greying hair.

“I must say, I have thoroughly enjoyed this!” Marius exclaims joyfully as the three of them pick at the last remains of the dinner. “I’d hate to sound big-headed, I truly would, but I think this is my best work yet.” He gesticulates down at everyone’s empty plates. “Don’t you think so, Steven?” He gives his best puppy dog eyes in an attempt to garner affection from his partner. “My dear?”

It is at this point that Steven finally realises how much wine he and Marius have drunk. While Dodo had had a glass, he and Marius had as a pair worked their way through a bottle.

“Great, it was great.” He mumbles, taking a cold sip from the last vestiges of wine in his glass.

Lazily he reclines back in his chair, resting to the right as to lay himself against Marius’ side. His partner hums in content approval.

“You know what.” Dodo stands up and begins tidying up the table, taking the empty plates into her arms. “I’ll just wash these, and then I’ll be on my way.”

“Dodo! You don’t have to-”

“You were both nice enough to cook tonight, this is the least I can do.” She stumbles over to the sink and starts running the water. “Aren’t I responsible now?” She raises her eyebrow at Steven and he grins and nods.

“Do you need one of us to walk you home? I’ve just noticed how dark it is.” Marius suggests kindly.

Dodo shakes her head. “Nah, I’ve got a bus to catch. Don’t you worry about me, it’s on this route.”

Steven reclines even further, but Marius leaves him falling back as the man gets up to assist Dodo. Steven rolls his eyes as the pair giggle at his stupor at being left behind.

“Oh, aren’t you tired!” Dodo light-heartedly mocks him, “Watch out dad or you’ll fall asleep right there and then!”

“Don’t you start.” He waggles his finger at her fake-crossly. “Or I’ll ground you for a week.”

Dodo gasps dramatically. “You wouldn’t dare!”

When the dishes are cleaned and left out to dry, Steven and Marius accompany Dodo to the door. She wraps her coat around herself thickly, muttering about the cold spring breeze.

“Take this.” Steven hands her a scarf he’d taken from the Master’s Tardis. It reminds him of the thick cloak set the Doctor had worn and he wonders if she thinks the same.

“I cannot stress enough how nice this has been.” Marius announces to the room with a sweeping gesture. “You really must come again, I for one would be devastated if you didn’t.”

“And me.” Steven adds. “I’ll never get bored of seeing you again after so long, please don’t feel like you can’t come and visit.”

“Of course!” Dodo laughs, “As if I’d miss out on family dinners!”

Steven hugs her once more before she then exchanges final pleasantries with Marius.

“Well, best be off.” She says stepping out into the street. “Thank you again for the food, it was fab. Oh, and Steven, good luck with the job search!” She quickly adds before giving one last thankful grin, pulling the door shut behind her, and leaving Steven and Marius to their own domestic scene.

“Well that went well.” Steven let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding in. “What did you think of- Marius?”

Turning to face the man Steven notices a strange expression marking his face.

“Don’t tell me you can’t handle your drink.” He laughs uncertainly- Marius doesn’t respond.

Instead he leaves Steven for the bedroom, heavy steps accompanying his swaying as he walks.

For a moment Steven ponders leaving him be, but as usual he knows he has to follow the trail.

“Marius!” He calls out as he goes after him. “Are you-”

Marius is crouched down on the floor, having just snatched the briefcase away from its hiding place. He eyes it up suspiciously before looking up to match Steven’s gaze.

“What is this?” Marius asks, half timidly and half angrily.

“How did you-”

“You didn’t hide it very well this time.” He answers placidly. “I saw it.”

“Well, just put it back.” Steven tries to suggest. “It’s not important.”

“Then tell me what’s inside.”

“What’s all this, are you accusing me of something?” Steven knows he needs to be clever about this, he can’t let Marius know the truth or anything even close to the truth. Perhaps it's to protect him, or perhaps he’s just being selfish in trying to retain the small family he’s made, the only family he has left now.

“What did Dodo mean?” Marius presses on.

“What?”

“She said ‘good luck with the job search’.” He repeats word for word. “You have a job.”

Ah.

Steven hates himself for the yarn of lies he’s spun to fit into this life. He had had a job, but leaving it behind in favour of joining Dodo in her home the previous week had stained his reputation, and before long he was gone. But Marius wasn’t supposed to find out. Steven just needed to find another, similar, job, and move on like the lie had never even been told. Until then he was just going to act like everything was normal, and try to provide for his family the best he could with their meager savings and the of-the-time currency he found in the Tardis.

Now it seems like he can’t continue that plan for much longer.

“I… I was going to tell you.” Steven confesses. “But we were just so happy, I didn’t want to..”

“You didn’t want to what?” Marius is shocked, but tries to collect his emotions and channel it into anger. “You didn’t want to be honest with me? I don’t understand.”

“I don’t want to lie to you!” Steven shouts. “Do you really think I am- was- happy doing this?”

“Where do you go then, every day when you leave for work?” Marius holds his palm against his own cheek as if feeling the stain of every morning goodbye kiss Steven gave him.

“Out.” Steven states. Every day grabs his jacket and case, kisses Marius goodbye, and leaves him for… time to himself.

Sometimes he just walks, following the streets aimlessly as he occupies himself with his own thoughts. Other days however, he locks himself up. The Master’s Tardis stands alone down a dark alley, obscured by bins and shadows; Steven worries about it, fearing that without its pilot it may get lonely. So, as part of his duties, he goes and stays with it. He paces the console room searching for anything that might resemble an instruction booklet or even a reset button, but leaves every day losing hope of ever seeing Uxareius again.

“Out? Out?” Marius raises his voice. “I see, you can leave and gallivant around London while I’m stuck here, the invalid who can’t even know what his own partner is going through?”

“It’s not like that!” Steven throws his hands in the air frustratedly. “I just..”

“What else aren’t you telling me.” Marius goes cold; Steven shivers. “How much more must you hide?” He stands up, straightening his posture and holding his arms by his sides stiffly. “Tell me what it is you have in that briefcase.” He orders.

“I can’t.” Steven murmurs, running his hand through his hair. “I just can’t. Please Marius, trust me-”

“How am I supposed to trust you when you’ve been hiding all of… all of this?” Marius’ anger betrays his harshness for an outburst of emotion. “It’s like you’re living another life without me.”

“Look, Marius, there are things I have to hide.” Steven announces. “I admit that. But it’s for your own good. Please, just trust me.”

“For how long? I can’t stay here forever.” Marius’ face is red with passionate emotion. “You can’t keep me like some sort of pet, a dog trained to sit at your heel and watch on as you live your life out there.”

“That’s not- I’m not-” Steven stutters. “It’s not like that.”

“Every day you sit back and let me rot in here! You lie to me, you say everything is done to protect me, to protect us, but you never actually say what it is you’re afraid of.”

“The world! We’re not-”

“It’s not that.” Marius sneers. “All you want is to collect me, as if I’m a doll you play house with. Like I’m some strange exhibit in a domestic zoo!”

Steven flinches. “Don’t say that. Don’t you dare.” He growls furiously. “Don’t you fucking dare.” It can’t happen again, he can’t be the perpetrator. That can’t be right, this can’t be what he’s become.

For a second Marius seems almost afraid.

“I don’t know you Steven.” He spits back, “You know me, but I don’t know you.”

Steven, now numb to the situation, makes no attempt to stop Marius as he grabs the briefcase and marches out of the room.

Slowly Steven collapses down on the bed, breathingly heavily. His heart stings with anger, the betrayal of being accused of that hurts more than any spaceship crash ever had.

But deep down he knows Marius is at least half right. He could have faced up to whatever was after the Master here on earth and protected Marius proactively. But instead he chose to be a coward, leaving an innocent man contained for his own comfort and ‘amusement’.

However before he sinks any further into his thoughts, Steven suddenly hears the slam of the door. He stands up sharply, ignoring the ache in his knees, and rushes out to find an empty house.

Forcing the door open Steven runs out into the street, madly looking around for any sign of Marius.

“Marius!?” He shouts, not caring if he angers his neighbours. “Marius! I’m sorry, just- Marius!”

Steven’s whole body fills up with terror as Marius fails to present himself.

“Please just come back in! We can talk, I can talk!” He begs the empty road. “It’s not safe for you! You have to come home, we can fix this!”

No one answers, leaving Steven abandoned in the night.

Chapter Text

Interlude: The Next Morning.

“I really think you ought to listen-”

“Not now Brigadier, I’ve too much work to do.” The Doctor attempted to dismiss his companion, not even giving a second glance to him as he spoke. To be frank, he wasn’t even sure why the Brigadier was up at a time like this, the last time he’d checked the clock it had been ticking just past five in the morning.

“But Doctor-”

“Not right now!” He was in the middle of a breakthrough concerning the Tardis, he could feel it- feel her calling out to him, they were closer than they had been in months. This was something he desperately needed to finish, just in order to feel something for once.

The last few months had felt impassible, stodgy and routine. The Doctor hated to admit it but ever since the Master had denied him the gesture of his presence, he felt at a standstill. And it was a gesture: of formality and duty- or that was what the Doctor tried to convince himself. And yet now the Master hadn’t been sighted for some time, there weren’t even whispers or rumours anymore. It was unlike him, the Doctor thought, not to be tempted to interfere in this time and place.

“Doctor, as your superior officer I demand you stop and listen!” There was the Brigadier again, with that booming authority of his which seemed to believe itself to be ultimate power. At last the Doctor supposed he might as well hear the man out, to pacify him and make him hopefully leave him be.

“Well alright then, fine.” The Doctor turned away from the equipment he had been fiddling with (an interface fitted with various cables and switches connecting it to his ship) and looked at the Brigadier. “Spit it out man, what is it?”

“It’s the Master. We’ve found him.”

The Doctor’s blood ran cold. The Master. The Master was here, he had come back for him.

The Brigadier continued: “We received a report about an hour ago, he was spotted in central London. He’s in our hands now.”

“Here?” How long had the Master been at UNIT HQ? How hadn’t the Doctor sensed his presence? Why hadn’t the Master reached out to him?

“Under lock and key Doctor. We won’t let him out of our sight, especially with him acting as he is now.”

The Brigadier had the Doctor’s full attention now. He was hooked, addicted to that sweet admission of the Master’s capture.

“And just how might he be acting?” The Doctor asked. The Brigadier was probably playing it up, there were a number of reasons for the Master to be acting out of sorts, none of which alarmed the Doctor. “No less ghastly than usual I’m sure.”

“Not quite. Well, he’s… docile.” The Brigadier confessed with a raised eyebrow as if asking the Doctor to explain. “He didn’t resist arrest, didn’t try any of his usual tricks, didn’t even goad or brag about avoiding UNIT for so long.”

“Oh?” Now that was unlike the Master.

“I’ve seen him Doctor, it’s a strange sight. All a ruse of course, to catch us off-guard.” The Brigadier added uncertainly. “Nothing we can’t handle.”

“Is that so?” That did sound like something he would do, but without a psychic presence from him the Doctor couldn’t be sure anything wasn’t wrong. Without it the Doctor felt cold and unattached, his skin itched to reach out and find his old friend yet there was nothing to latch onto. “Docile you say? But it is him, you have checked?”

“Of course it’s him. He has every mark of being our suspect except for his behaviour.”

The Doctor knew what he needed to do. “Let me see him, perhaps I can talk some sense into him.”

The Brigadier sighed as if he’d predicted that was what the Doctor would want. “I’ll authorise a visit. Come along then, he’s in the basement- his usual cell.” The pair shared a smile as they recalled every time previous they’d had the Master within their grasp. “And perhaps you’ll be able to figure out that briefcase he’s been carrying around, we can’t unlock it and he won’t hand it over.”

The Doctor’s mind was buzzing with thoughts as he made his way down to the cellblocks. A Master who didn’t gloat? That would almost be like if he himself didn’t do the same. The very concept left a hollow feeling in the Doctor’s hearts, what was life without competition?

“He’s like a new man, my men have said.” The Brigadier spoke up as if he knew what the Doctor was thinking. “Reformed, rehabilitated, whatever it is they say these days. You know apparently he even apologised for stepping on the foot of Captain Yates- naturally Yates was quite alarmed.”

“I’m sure he was… I’m sure.” The Doctor muttered thoughtfully. “The Master’s action, that could almost be described as.. Kind.” He wasn’t sure what to feel, whether it was hope or despair about the extent and truth of such a change. Renewal was important, he and the Master knew that better than anyone, but to this extreme length was unlike either of them.

“Kind?” The Brigadier scoffed. “Doctor you’re aware that the Master is our biggest security threat, that we have spent months trying to prevent him from enacting his plans and causing trouble to this world? Kind doesn’t come anywhere near that.”

“You said he’s different.”

“I didn’t say he was honest.”

The Doctor didn’t know what to believe. He didn’t even know what he wanted to believe.

“Good luck old chap.” Said the brigadier as he showed the Doctor to the cell where the Master was being kept. The Doctor shrugged off his attempt at a reassuring pat of the shoulder and dismissed him.

Slowly he pressed the key into the lock and spun it. With a click the door opened and the Doctor strode in as if he truly were his profession ready to attend to a patient.

It was a barren room, medium sized with four walls trapping its inhabitant. Besides the usual amenities there was also a narrow stone seat, and that was the space the Master occupied.

As the door shut itself behind him, the Doctor stared in curiosity at the Master. The man was hunched over his seat, dressed in a thick dark coat overlaying what seemed to be ordinary 1970s clothes; the Doctor raised his brow but thought that was the least of his concerns. Beside him sat the briefcase the Brigadier had mentioned- it didn’t look of earthly design.

Then, as if he’d only just noticed him arrive, the Master looked up. He still had those dark toxic brown eyes, yet there was something stiller in them now. More like they were the epicentre of the storm rather than the destruction itself. His entire manner was like that, cold yet also innocent.

The Doctor gave him a well-worn smile. “You know I was almost beginning to think you weren’t coming anymore.” It was better to push on and act like nothing was wrong he thought, perhaps that way he could unveil this docile disguise. “Got bored did you? Or was your capture simply a case of bad luck.”

The Master didn’t respond.

Moving in closer the Doctor leant against the smooth cold wall and continued: “You gave Captain Yates the fright of his life earlier, if I were there I would have described it as almost comical.”

“Where am I?” Was the first thing the Master said after hoarsely clearing his throat. His voice was the same on paper but the Doctor flinched at the mild manner in which the Master addressed him. It was almost inaudible but his inflection had changed too, it sounded almost more… human.

“With me, the same as always.” The Doctor tried to step forward but the Master flinched. “We’re at UNIT Headquarters, I’d have thought you’d remember this cell in particular.”

Something in the Master’s expression shifted, from fear to subtle understanding. “Oh. I should remember this place?”

“I suppose you were always too caught up in your own head to notice it then.” The Doctor scoffed. “What’s changed now?”

“I don’t remember this.. I don’t remember anything.” It sounded like a well practiced story though it had its uncertainties in tone. “Why was I here before? Why is it always here?”

“You know very well why, it’s what you deserve.” It sounded like a well practiced story, though it had its uncertainties in tone. The Doctor didn’t know what the Master deserved, he hadn’t known that in a long time.

This made the Master angry. Not the strong anger the Doctor was used to weathering, but angry nonetheless. “I don’t! I don’t know why I’m here! I don’t know why
any of this is happening. Please, whoever you are, just tell me why!”

Then it struck the Doctor: the Master was afraid.

“‘Whoever you are’?” Nothing made sense, the Doctor willed it to. “My dear.. Stop with this.”

The Master was standing up now, puffing his chest up and facing the Doctor head on. The Doctor admired that- the fact that even amidst fear his best enemy still tried to take control. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

“How? How am I supposed to stop when I don’t even know what I’m doing, what I have done!”

“You’re you! That’s what you’ve done! And I thought that was what you’d always do.” The Master wasn’t like this, it was unnatural and emotive and chilling. “What changed, my friend?”

“Help me.” Was his companion’s simple plea. “There was an accident- I lost everything. I don’t know who I am anymore. And now I’ve even lost… How can I trust you?”

“With great difficulty, as usual. But that doesn’t mean it’s a chore. We trust each other, that’s a fact of our lives.” The Doctor’s loyalty never faltered no matter how difficult it became, he could never abandon his oldest companion; it was in spite of the difficulty that they persevered. “What accident- don’t tell me you fell to one of your own schemes again.”

“I..” The Doctor winced at how unsure the Master sounded. “It was bad. I can’t remember… I don’t know anything about who I was before.”

This made the Doctor freeze, now he too was afraid. “Nothing? Please, if there’s anything-”

“Don’t. I’ve tried.” The Master stated grimly, spitting out his defeat. “Now, I have to be myself without knowing myself. Someone I trusted to tell me my life was… he let me down. I have nothing at all in this world, let alone my memories.”

“Oh, oh I see.” The Doctor said thickly. He was a stranger now, caught adrift in lost memories scattered in hidden places in the Master’s mind. There was nothing of him left, as if they’d never met and made those promises to one another under the Gallifreyan stars. Was he so easy to wipe from memory? Like a stain or a smudge on an otherwise perfect life. In his desperation for fleeting adventures he’d sacrificed any chance at being remembered. The Doctor thought back to Jamie and Zoe, that had stabbed him yet this next instance burned with a homely ferocity unlike any other, driving the dagger straight through his soul.

Neither man spoke, too trapped within their own minds to treat their own wounds. Then, tenderly and longingly, the Doctor tried to reach out with mental tendrils ready to embrace and coax back his friend. But his mind pushed and screamed against the Master’s, it was as if a shield had formed to protect the man’s scrambled mind from intruders.

Amidst the struggle he caught glimpses, short bursts of pain and agony and betrayal and joy, comfort turned unfamiliarity, the raw truth of an identity fallen apart. The Doctor suddenly reeled back away from his friend, head stinging from the effort of trying to pierce the mental block.

The Master made no move to reassure him or even laugh at his pitiable expression. Instead he just stared blankly at the Doctor with those deep all-encompassing eyes of his. The Doctor could feel himself falling into their depths, desperate for anything from his oldest friend.

“How about you say what you do know then? Be a good chap and tell me, I did always love a good story.” The Doctor knew his voice was inexcusably hoarse and his face heated from the effort of his telepathy, but he couldn’t stop now.

“It is not a story, this is my life.” The Master feebly spat back; the Doctor almost wanted to laugh at how estranged yet attached he was to his normal self.

“Whatever you see it as, just please let me in on it.”

“My.. My name is Marius Taylor. I am 54 years old. I’ve been living in South London for a month now with... I don’t know why I’m here or what I’ve done. I… I didn’t mean to do anything wrong.”

“Marius eh? I suppose that sounds similar enough.” That was a lie, nothing could compare to the man’s real identity. “How haven’t you been found before, if you’ve been here all that time?” This man seemed in no way prepared to evade the UNIT taskforce, the Doctor thought. He was too nervous and trusting, after all he didn’t even know the Doctor’s name and yet he was already opening up. A part of his mind silently pleaded for that to be due to memories seeping through the cracks.

“I’ve been hiding.” There was a sad look in Marius' eyes which told the Doctor there was more to the story. In fact it suggested this was more than a fabricated story and instead a real, emotional situation.

But that didn’t answer the Doctor’s mental tirade of questions rushing through his head. “But I thought you didn’t know you were being pursued? Why hide?”

Marius hunched back into himself. “Stop.” He demanded yet without his usual sense of authority. This was more alike to a man with nothing trying to chase the feeling of normality. “Stop expecting me to tell you everything.” Suddenly that mental wall was tangible and wild, the Doctor could feel it suffocating in the small cell and clamouring at the walls desperately.

Still, he pressed on. “It is well within my right to-”

“And who gave you that right?” Marius’ tone was ferocious and biting, the Doctor almost smiled before giving way to the other man’s anger. “Was it me?”

“It’s always you!” The Master, his Koschei, had given him every right as well as every wrong.

“I don’t like him, that me. He’s the reason I’m trapped again. He… the soldiers looked at me with such disgust, like I was different, like I wasn’t even human in their eyes.”

“Perhaps they’re right.” The Doctor would’ve chided himself for being so harsh but he wanted nothing more than to claw back his Master from the depths of this stranger’s face.

Clearly this didn’t work. Marius’ face twisted furiously, blending both Master and man together.

“You don’t know me, I don’t know you.” He almost laughed, holding back his mania. “Won’t everyone just leave me be? You don’t know me anymore.”

“Koschei will you please-”

“Who am I?” Marius interrupted him. “All I know is lies, won’t someone just tell me the truth? I need to know who I am.”

“Yes, you do. Of course you do. You need that control or else you have to stop and think about the choices you’ve made and the life they’ve led you to.” The Doctor said with the distant taste of him and the Master’s last kiss reaching up from his throat and invading his lips once more. “You can’t stand not knowing because deep down you know you made the wrong decision all those years ago. And yet you want to go back to living with that decision because it made you feel alive, in a way even I couldn’t!”

“My decision? Of all the nonsensical… You chose as well! You have to live with yourself too, Thete!”

“I only made that choice because of you! Why couldn’t we just make that first choice together instead of you taking your usual self-absorbed liberties and deciding nothing would satisfy you more than destruction?”

“Because nothing would!”

“Not even me?”

“I… You’re different. You don’t count.”

“What am I then? To you, to everything, what am I to the world when I’m with you?”

“How am I supposed to know when I don’t even know who you are?”

That brought the Doctor back. Back to the cell, back to his present. Marius was there, panting with the strain of performative arguments he didn’t even understand. The pair locked eyes and Marius, seemingly weakened, sat back down and patted the stone seat next to him.

“Please, Thete, tell me who you are.”

It had been a false argument then. That hadn’t been his Master, just fragile shattered memories propping up another angry man. But at the same time everything he said was real and raw and so achingly familiar. And now Marius even knew his old name, that had to mean something.

So, wearily and blisteringly worn down, the Doctor came to sit beside Marius.

“I am… My name is the Doctor, that’s who I am now. I’m a traveller, I have been for some time now and hope to continue in the near future. I’m here to help people. I’m trying to be better, for everyone I’ve met.”

“Even me?”

The Doctor sighed, “Yes, even you.” He’d always hoped to lead by example, perhaps one day the Master’s underlying compassion would break past the surface once more to learn a lesson or two from his oldest friend.

“What am I to you?” Marius asked, eyes betraying that he already knew the answer.

“Well… One might say we were at school together.” The Doctor said rubbing his neck nervously. “I have missed you, you used to visit so often and then you just stopped, until today.” Now the Doctor knew how it felt to be someone he himself had abandoned.

Marius was close to him now, their shoulders were almost touching.

“How could you ever love a man like me?” Marius’ question was sudden, catching the Doctor off guard.

“I- I beg your pardon?”

“You do, I can see it. Not just in your eyes but in your soul. You love the man I was. Not so much the man I am now, but I can excuse that. Why? If he really is the man your people want to keep prisoner?”

“They’re not my people. I just.. They need me right now.” And he needed them, more than he would ever outwardly admit. “They don’t understand. You and me, we’re different from everyone else.”

“So we need each other, is that how it works?”

“To put it simply, yes.” The Doctor gave a light chuckle. “Or else we’ll burn up in everyone else’s atmospheres.”

“We’re in the stars, aren’t we? I know it sounds ridiculous but when I look at you I see… The universe.”

“We’re more than just in the stars.” The Doctor took his friend's hand into his own, rubbing circles into his palm. “We’re from them. In the constellation of Kastaberous, the planet Gallifrey. The sky looks like it’s raining fire, and the trees have been welded from that into thick silver branches and leaves which reflect every beautiful part of the landscape. We were everything and nothing there.”

“We were, weren’t we…” Marius sighed contently, brow furrowed as he envisaged this unfamiliar homeworld. “But you’re here now, in this place.”

“It’s better this way.” The Doctor said though he wasn’t sure he meant it. It would have been the truth, if he’d not been forced here and trapped against his will. If finding somewhere stable to stay hadn’t meant losing his two closest friends. “If I’m always here, then you always know where to find me.”

“Well I don’t think I have a choice in finding you. I didn’t want to come here.” That stung but the Doctor knew he was only trying to be honest. “All I wanted yesterday was to have a nice dinner and go to bed with my husband, the same as always. But now he’s… I don’t know if he was telling the truth about me, and I can’t just go back to him now knowing you.”

Husband. The Doctor flinched, knowing he hadn’t misheard. This man wasn’t alone, he was a person with relationships and a life formed outside of any involvement from the Doctor. He wasn’t the Master, not if he considered a life with someone other than him worth living.

“Your... You have someone then, Marius.” The Doctor wanted to move away, to let go of his hand, but he couldn’t. “Quite the nice little life you’ve set up for yourself.”

Marius looked like he wanted to be happy, to boast to the Doctor about what he’d crafted amongst the turmoil, but he couldn’t.

“That’s what I thought. I believed he’d set it all out so we could be happy, but I don’t know if I can trust him anymore.”

The Doctor didn’t understand. He wasn’t the man in Marius’ life, there was someone else living with and guiding this new being. Jealousy ran through him, the sort of regrettable bitterness of being too late for something he’d known nothing about. Marius loved another, he’d missed his chance.

Standing up suddenly and reeling from the light-headed feeling that rushed through him, the Doctor eyed up the door keenly.

“Going so soon?” Marius asked innocently. The Doctor met his gaze and recoiled at how unlike he was to his oldest partner, “Please, I’d like to hear more.” It was as if he had been split away from himself, different traits emerging from the depths of his soul to form someone else entirely. In that moment the Doctor felt as helpless as he had all that time ago, when he watched his friend change and break away from him in favour of nothing but chaos.

“I can’t. Not right now.” The Doctor swallowed his emotions, throat aching from the pain of doing so. “I must think.” Everything was different, he needed to fix this.

Ignoring Marius’ protest, the Doctor bent down and grabbed the briefcase the man had been hoarding. It was cold to the touch and thrummed with the remainder of some sort of unearthly energy- the Doctor supposed that was what maintained the lock.

Hastily he moved towards the door, pulling it open in one swift motion.

The Doctor spoke up again, too afraid to look Marius in the eye as he knew he’d meet a different man there. “I hope you were happy, with that life.”

“I was.”

And with that the Doctor left.

Chapter Text

Steven knows he ought to calm down, for everyone’s sakes, but this would be impossible in the current circumstances.

So, with every fear and possibility coursing through his mind, he paces. Up and down and across his living room all the while Dodo watches over him with tired eyes and a concerned expression.

“Steven, come and sit down! That carpet won’t last much longer with you pacing like that.” She pats the seat beside her sternly but Steven pays no mind to it.

“That’s fine, it’s just carpet.”

“You know this isn’t just about the carpet.”

He sighs, she’s right. It’s now mid-morning and Marius hasn’t returned- after his furious departure that night Steven isn’t sure why he’d want to come back, but he desperately wishes for his return. Anything could happen to him out there, from those news reports he’d read when he and Marius had first arrived in this time the Master seemed to be one of the most wanted men in the country. People were out to get him, not knowing that they’d be coming across an innocent man; Steven shivers at the thought.

Eventually Dodo coaxes him to sit down. Then, with shaky hands, Steven takes from the table and brings to his mouth the cup of tea Dodo had prepared. It’s not what he expects. He’d expected hot smouldering tea, ready to burn the back of his throat and act as one last deed of revenge for his temper. This however is cold, staining his mouth with the rotten sort of flavour that only comes from tea left out too long. Steven supposes he had been pacing for a while.

“He could still come back.” Dodo suggests; Steven thinks that assumption childish.

“Or he could not.” He retorts with a glare.

“Look Steven, maybe you’re making this a bigger deal than it is. He could just… not want to see you.”

That notion is almost worse.

“That’s not how it works Dodo, me and him we-”

“You both just love each other so much that you can’t bear to be apart? Is that it then?” Her tone is biting, Steven doesn’t blame her- he was being rather rude. “You’ve upset him, badly from the sound of it.”

“I’m all he has.” Steven doesn’t know what else to say.

“You’ve only known each other for a month, it’s not like you’ve always been inseparable. Things happen, people leave. You and I both knew this just couldn’t last forever.”

“Don’t you think I already know that.” Everyone leaves, whether it be from the outside force of time or a forced hand or even something as trivial as young love. Steven had thought that by leaving the Doctor he’d left that cycle behind, but now it was chasing after him with a fury completely of his own making.

Dodo’s expression shifts to something more pitiable, looking at Steven and trying to find the best way to humour him.

“So you say he left not long after I did?” She asks in repetition of earlier questions.

“Yes.” Steven doesn’t mention her involvement in Marius’ growing suspicion of him, he can’t throw that guilt onto someone else. “He just took my case, his coat and ran off.”

“Your briefcase? He’s robbed you blind!” Dodo tries to joke yet there is no humour in her voice. “Could he… unlock it?”

“No, it’s as secure as I could make it.” The technology taken from the Master’s Tardis combined with his password should be enough to protect it, Steven thinks. But no matter what, he needs that briefcase back. It has everything, the only remnants of his old life sit abandoned within that prison; his family lie in memory there, if a photograph could scream then he was sure it would.

“Do you really think he’s in trouble out there?” If Steven were to close his eyes, he’s sure he could imagine he were young again and this was Dodo asking about the Doctor. “He’s a nice man, I shouldn’t want him to get hurt.”

“I don’t know Dodo, I just don’t know.” Steven’s answer is brief but conclusive. He continues to sip at the sour tea, “I don’t even know where to start looking for him.”

Then, in one calculated motion, Dodo grabs the mug of tea from him.

“Stop drinking that Steven, it’ll do you no good.” She places it on the tea tray, picking that up and walking away from Steven to the kitchen, still calling out to him: “We have to start somewhere, where’s your local station? Though maybe getting the police involved might not be the best idea…”

“Quite. Not when we’ve barely got enough official documents even just to stay here.” Steven knows he was hasty in preparing he and Marius’ identities, but he hadn’t expected to need them to last so long. “They’d arrest me on the spot, let alone Marius. And besides I wouldn’t know how to talk to them, they’re so… ancient.”

“You didn’t used to call them that.” Dodo says, returning from the kitchen. “You’d say old-fashioned or anything of that like, but never ancient.”

“Well.. My time, my new time, is a lot further in the future than my home time.” Steven responds. Adaptations in language like that were to be expected, but he hadn’t quite noticed himself performing them before.

“Do you ever miss it? Where you came from before the Doctor?”

“Not so much these days. I have duties, responsibilities, I can’t spend my whole life thinking about that past when I’ve got so much to do in the present.”

“What about the past with me and the Doctor then, do you ever miss that?”

“Every day.” Steven answers without blinking. “That’s not the past- we had a time machine, nothing was as simple as past, present and future.”

“I miss it too.” Steven can barely hear Dodo’s whisper, but it's concrete enough to know she means it. “I mean I’m fine here, really. It’s just… You know I’ve always felt this way, it’s why I ran off with you and the Doctor in the first place. That was home, out there with you two.”

“If only we could go back, eh?” Steven pats her shoulder comfortingly. “Marius is a bit like the Doctor, if you squint.” He knows it’s not a perfect resemblance, but perhaps it's better that way. Marius… cares. Marius loves him- or at least Steven hopes he still does. Steven recalls the way the Master had regarded the Doctor when he spoke of him, it almost feels like the way in which the Doctor would speak of him.

“He and the Doctor… they must’ve been close.” Dodo mutters. “I mean, he was pretty chummy with that Monk man too and they’ve all got the same style of name, do you suppose-”

“Hang on, you’ve met the Monk?” Steven asks in shock, he remembers the Doctor abandoning that man on an unknown world after they’d met up in Egypt. But the Monk did always have a way of escaping these sorts of things, that Steven was also beginning to recall.

“Yep! I thought he was rather nice, and not to mention funny. Though you and the Doctor made him very angry leaving him behind before.”

“That wasn’t- he was trying to change history!”

“Well either way I thought he was alright.” Dodo concludes. “It was interesting seeing the Doctor meeting an old friend like that. Do you think he’d be the same with the Master?”

Steven thinks for a moment. “No, I don’t think he would.” They’re different, he can tell. Sometimes he catches Marius looking at him expectantly, as if unknown to even himself he yearns for someone else instead. The Master is too opposite, and Marius too contrasting, to the Doctor for their relationship to be anything usual.

“I wish the Doctor was here.” Dodo interrupts his ponderings with a groan; it seems like no matter how much time has passed, she’s still the same bored-with-the-mundane girl Steven knew. “He could help, I know he could.”

“If only.” Steven isn’t so sure that would fix anything, but all this reminiscing never fails to make him miss his old companion. “I don’t know if he’d help exactly, but he’d do… something- the old man always had something up his sleeve.”

“That’s putting it lightly.” They share a laugh. “Y’know, I can’t really picture him with the Master.”

Steven nods in agreement. “Me neither, but I’m sure it’d make sense if we actually saw them together.” Looking away he picks up a newspaper from the table again. He scans every page as if they can grant him any new wisdom or information about the Master. Nestled in the corner of the news panel is his wanted poster and vague details describing his crimes; Steven wonders to what extent ‘UNIT’ knows about his unearthly origins.

“Though Steven… I wonder if, maybe, my friends Ben and Polly told me about this thing, renewa-”

Before she can continue, Steven stops her in favour of his own sudden thought. As he stares at the wanted poster slowly an idea begins to form. It’s dangerous, impulsive, probably foolish, it’s exactly the sort of thing the Doctor would have tasked him with.

“What if he’s already been taken in? By this ‘UNIT’ organisation?” He starts. “Or what if he hasn’t yet, but they’re clearly looking for him.”

“And where is this going?” He can tell she’s trying to mask her excitement but her eyes light up at his shy confidence. “You’ll what, ring them up and ask?”

“Better.” This is definitely one of his worst ideas in recent years. “I’ll go there and find him. Or wait for him, whatever it is I need to do.”

He can be one step ahead, or a step behind but ready to catch up. It’s been an age since he’s had to do anything like this, but the prospect of adventure makes his mind aflame with adrenaline. As a King he isn’t tasked with infiltration, but he’d learnt his fair share about security from Sara. Steven just hopes those skills haven’t faded in his mind, they were one last present from her.

“But what if you’re wrong and they haven’t found him?” Dodo tries to say but it’s clear she’s firmly on board, sitting up keenly ready to listen to Steven’s mad plan.

“At least I’d be doing something.” Is Steven’s answer. “Now, the paper says to call but I’m sure they won’t mind a home visit.”

“Front or back door?”

“Back, if he is there then I’ll need to smuggle him away.” In that moment Steven doesn’t care if Marius hates him, he just knows he needs to free this innocent man. It’s the least he can do, perhaps when they’re together again he can tell Marius everything. Maybe then they could fly the Tardis together, return to the relative peace of Uxarieus and make things right. And then if he can make things right with Marius (and the Master doesn’t return) perhaps Steven can ask him to stay a while. He hadn’t had that chance with the Doctor, but now he could redeem himself with this new partner.

“It says here that they’re located just outside London, can you find me a train to a nearby town?” He asks Dodo, standing up expectantly. “As soon as possible.”

Dodo checks the address in the paper. “There’s always trains running to there, we’ll go down to the station and catch the earliest.”

“Ah, not you.” Steven amends her statement hastily, holding his hands up defensively as she turns on him with an irritated look. “I need someone to stay here in case Marius comes back. And I think this is a one person mission anyway.”

Dodo folds her arms, tilting her head analytically. “Now this part of being with I haven’t missed. You don’t always have to do this alone Steven.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to-”

“I’ll stay, but don’t think it's because I’m following orders. It’s only because I care about Marius, you hear that?”

“Right, right…” Steven isn’t convinced; Dodo knows that. “I should go now shouldn’t I, the sooner the better…”

Wandering out into the hallway he pulls his shoes on, Dodo grabbing a satchel for him and filling it with everything the pair deem essential.

“This should be enough for the fare.” She adds, taking some notes from her own purse and putting them into Steven’s.

“Dodo!” Steven goes red, usually he’d have been the one helping Dodo and yet now with the passing of time that dynamic seemed to have shifted. “You don’t have to, I can pay for my own.”

“And be left with nothing after that? Look, just see it as me returning the favour of you being there for me all those years ago.” She says bemusedly. “Paying my old dad back for all he’s done, how about that then.”

In response he smiles uncertainly, “Thank you, I’ll pay you back somehow.”

“It better not be in alien money when you do, I can’t change that!”

“I give you my word.” Steven says lightheartedly as he opens the front door. “Well, wish me luck.”

She tips an imaginary hat to him, smiling assuredly. “This is mad, absolutely mad.” But she doesn’t sound nervous. “Go get him Steven, he’ll forgive you I know he will.

“If he does, I’ll give him so much more.” Steven promises, shutting the door behind himself and stepping out into the brisk mid-morning air. And he means it, he can’t keep Marius trapped any longer. No one deserves that, no matter how little they have besides that life.

It’s a quick walk to the nearest train station, and while Steven has difficulty navigating such an unfamiliar environment and paying for his physical ticket, he manages it and hops onto the next train to Denham.

On the train Steven finds a lonely seat at the back, with a wide-stretching window demonstrating the beauty of unmarked countryside as the journey advances. He’s glad to get out of London, it’s both too alike to and too different to his home kingdom that any change is welcome.

This is a strange time, he decides- everyone is so bright yet this is juxtaposed with the darkness of oppressive social policy and a struggling world not yet stretching forward into modernity. It’s not so different from the original order imposed on Uxareius before Steven himself took on the throne, just without overt life-draining machines. Steven chuckles at that thought, sometimes he still couldn’t believe the trail of events that led to him leaving the Doctor. Everything from back then feels like science-fiction without the grounding of a true home to keep him in reality.

As he watches the landscape blur and pass by him through the window, Steven realises that perhaps he misses more than he’d thought. He already knows he misses his old life- the one with the Doctor- so much that it burns, but now without his new life and kingship he feels even lonelier. Though it was far from an easy life, the responsibilities and dedicated loyalty he’d given himself for his subjects kept him alive, kept him from losing himself. He needed people to take care of, perhaps that helped him to take care of himself.

“Next call: Priory Mews, Denham. Please mind the gap.”

Steven is brought out of his musings by the loudspeaker’s announcement. Quickly he gathers his belongings and stands up, marching commandingly towards the train doors. Then, as the door opens, he steps off onto the platform, blending in with the bored crowd. That’s another thing about not being king here- no one treats him any different. He can stroll the streets without scrutiny, make mistakes in public without his leadership being called into question. He’s not known by name or recognised by a glance. He can be forgotten here.

Leaving the station, Steven is left at a standstill in this small village. That is until he spots distinct signs pointing west down past the village square. Ignoring the developing ache in his knees he starts a brisk march and keeps going until he reaches the end of the town. Across from him, in otherwise blank countryside, sits a squat building surrounded by fields of entrapped land. A thin path snakes upwards towards the fence which loops around the complex.

Deciding stealth can come later, Steven starts walking up the path. Soon he approaches the gateway which is manned by two unformed men.

They’re immediately suspicious, Steven wonders what it is about him that instantly turns people against him. As King he’s now used to respect and relevance, but when he travelled with the Doctor it had seemed as though no one trusted him. Returning to that trope leaves both a nostalgic and also bitter taste in his mouth. No one likes a stranger, especially someone as estranged as him.

“You there, this is private UNIT property.” One of the officers states blankly as though he doesn’t believe Steven is aware of that fact. “Move along now, you can’t come any further.”

“I know that.” Steven retorts sarcastically. “I’d have to be dumb not to, you’re not exactly a subtle bunch.” Ah, perhaps this is one reason why he’s not the most liked person at times. “I’m here on UNIT business.” He begs for this bluff to at least get him somewhere, even if that somewhere is an interrogation cell.

The officer raises his eyebrow; he is clearly not convinced. “I’m afraid without the right credentials-”

“Which I have!” Steven is quick to interrupt, wincing at his own rashness. He doesn’t of course. He barely even knows what sort of an organisation UNIT is, let alone what sort of lie he could pull from nowhere.

He thinks back to the SSS, and to Sara and Bret. They’d had call signs, surely UNIT would too? Bret’s had been a string of words which Steven could no longer remember, but Sara’s had been special. Steven remembered her whispering it to him in a moment of weakness, as if it were a shame and dishonour to carry it with what she’d done.

“I’m… I’m here to see Greyhound.” That had been it, Steven was sure. He just hopes it sounds official enough to allow him access to this place. “Yes, Greyhound… Very secretive, you know how it is.”

Then, to Steven’s surprise, the man nods. “My bad sir, would you like me to escort you to him?” He seems almost embarrassed at not having taken Steven’s presence seriously.

“That won’t be necessary.” Steven sharply answers as the gates open for him. “I’m sure I’ll manage.”

And with that he strolls into the complex, silently chuckling to himself and thanking the universe for this simple win. But this is only just the start, he knows that. Eyeing up the building, Steven thinks some more about what kind of place this place must be. They’re after the Master and appear to keep order, yet in his quiet research Steven still hasn’t found a definitive answer to where the institution sprung from or its core goals. He’s not sure whether to fear or delight in the mystery.

Instead of heading for the main doors, Steven takes broad steps around the side of the main building. It’s a traditional 20th century brick structure, however there is something unnerving about the energy that thrums and pulses from within its walls. It’s modern, almost like it wouldn’t be out of place in Steven’s time.

Navigating his way round, Steven locates a side door. The lock is secure and warning signs mark the surrounding walls but this does little to assuage his determination. From his satchel he pulls out a skeleton key (politely stolen from the Master’s Tardis) and pushes it into the lock. Cleanly the door swings open and Steven pokes his head through, taking note of the empty corridor ahead of him.

Slowly he steps forward into the building, making sure to remain as quiet as possible. He can hear the distant clamour of a busy workplace echoing throughout the hall and desperately tries to avoid that area. Taking quick furtive strides through the corridor Steven makes note of each door sign, looking for anything that could indicate Marius’ presence. If he’s a fugitive, then surely he’ll be held in some sort of cell; Steven isn’t convinced that such a place will be so easy to find, but he keeps going in spite of that uncertainty.

Just as he walks past the sector of the building apparently designated to various labs (the strange thrumming increases as he treads down that path), Steven hears the fast approaching sound of shoes clicking on linoleum.

Looking around, he hurriedly darts into the nearest cupboard, pulling the door shut behind him. However this in fact turns out not to be a cupboard, at least in the typical sense of the word. It’s larger, and instead of what Steven had expected it holds various modern looking technologies. His eyes scan the room, seeing what he knows is the parts for some sort of booster for a spaceship. Across from him is advanced looking cabling and next to that is a strange assortment of wordless manuals.

Steven isn’t sure what to think- none of these things are of earthly origin. They remind him of the random bits and bobs he’d pass to the Doctor whenever the pair endeavoured to fix a fault in their Tardis, the kind of technology this time should in no way have access to.

Before he can continue down this train of thought however, the door creaks open. Steven rushes to the back of the room, attempting to make himself appear as small as possible. However this is almost impossible- there is nowhere to hide, and Steven is not exactly the most subtle of people.

The woman who walks in is surprised, jumping back in fright as soon as she locks eyes with Steven. She’s short, with a round face framed by sharp features and naturally large eyes. Her hair is dirty blonde, hanging casually by her shoulders. Steven can tell she’s trendy for this time- her eyelashes are thickly made up and she’s dressed in a short brown dress accompanied by matching go-go boots.

Almost immediately she turns back around, ready to run out into the corridor presumably screaming. However, trying not to be too rough, Steven grabs her wrist and pulls her fully forward into the room; the door shuts behind her.

“Let- me-!” Steven cuts her off, pressing his hand against her mouth. To be honest he feels quite bad- this must be rather frightening for the poor girl.

“Not until you promise to be quiet!” He whispers harshly in a tone usually suited for scolding his daughters. “And to not run.”

Realising she doesn’t really have much choice, the girl nods and Steven removes his hand. She’s quiet for a moment, catching her breath, before she speaks up in a high-pitched panicked voice.

“Who are you- How did you get in?” It’s clear she knows Steven is an intruder.

Steven hesitates before answering. He’d hoped to sneak in undetected, and no one else was supposed to get involved; it was as he’d said to Dodo, this was a one man mission. So he chooses his words carefully, speaking with the well-practiced manner of a decades-long king.

“My name is Steven Taylor.” Her eyebrow raises as he says his last name, he dares to dream that means what he thinks it might- that Marius had let something slip. “And what’s your name? If I’m allowed to ask questions too.”

“Jo- Jo Grant.” She answers before stopping herself. “No, no you can’t ask questions.”

“Well if I did then you’d clearly answer them.”

“Slip of the tongue, happens when you’re nervous.” She’s quick to retort. “What do you want?”

“To take back something that’s mine.” Steven grins, silently delighting in his possession over Marius before stopping and mentally shaking his head. This isn’t what Marius wants from him. He wants an equal, perhaps all he wants deep down is the Doctor; Steven can relate.

“Right.” Jo bops her head in thought. “And why shouldn’t I go running to the nearest officer and tell them everything? You’re not armed.”

“I could be-”

“You’re not. I’m trained in this sort of espionage, I’d know if you were.”

“But you won’t go running.” Steven’s voice is level, controlled, almost threatening but he keeps his expression light to avoid further frightening Jo. “You’ll ask me some more questions, and then maybe- just maybe- you’ll leave.”

“And make sure you won’t get away with… whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Alright then.” Steven knows he can’t protest, all he can do is stall. “Well, ask away.”

Jo looks at him in confusion, for a moment struggling to comprehend Steven giving up so easily. Then she reasserts herself, crossing her arms and clearly trying to employ her best ‘teacher voice’.

“What’re you trying to take back? Is that why you’re here, do you want this technology?” She gestures around the small room eyeing up what Steven figures must be their most valuable pieces.

“No, I ended up here completely by accident. I heard a noise and just ducked in here, but now that I am here I must say-”

“That’s enough for one answer I should think.” Jo’s voice is light and sweet but Steven can detect an edge to it that indicates she’s more than she looks. “That noise would’ve been me, I was just coming in to fetch something.”

Steven chuckles- it seems that no matter how cold Jo tries to come off she can’t help but let on more than she wants to.

“Good job alerting me- I could hear your shoes from miles away.”

“Carnaby Street’s finest.” Jo chirps back. “And you still haven’t answered me: what do you want?”

“The Master.” Steven replies with a dry throat. He can’t say Marius, that’s not who UNIT would see him as. Marius isn’t quite real, not to anyone except Steven that is. But that doesn’t make him any less important.

Jo’s eyes widen. “The Master?

“You’ve found him then.” Steven knows that kind of look. “I need him back, I suppose you could say there’s been a case of mistaken identity.”

“I don’t understand.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

Jo glares at Steven. “Tell me then, make me understand.” She’s wary now, looking at Steven as if searching for something in his face to inform her of who he is. “I’m a fast learner- and you better be a fast explainer.”

“It’s complicated-”

“Complicated? Do you have any idea what we do here? Everything is complicated, even more so when the Master gets involved.” She doesn’t exactly seem disappointed at this prospect, instead her eyes light up with that sense of anticipation and thirst for adventure just as Steven’s had used to all those years ago with the Doctor. “Whatever you think is too ‘complicated’, I’m sure I can handle it.”

Steven decides he rather likes her. She’s quick on her feet, biting, a curiosity in the puzzle of this military organisation.

As he gets ready to explain, Steven suddenly feels like he’s been thrown into a loop. He recalls meeting the Master, and hearing out that man’s ‘evil’ plans for the Doctor. And now he himself encounters someone new, only this time to spread the word of the Master. Steven wonders: if the Doctor were within this loop too, would he talk about him?

“You haven’t got the Master, that’s not who you think it is in whatever cell you’ve locked him up in.” Steven starts, “He’s had an accident- it’s changed him. He probably doesn’t even know why he’s here, please you have to-”

“And you expect me to believe that piffle?” Jo cuts him off with a plain look of scepticism. “Of all the things I expected, that's certainly the most absurd. An accident? The Master doesn’t have ‘accidents’, not like that at least.”

“That wasn’t his fault, it’s all mine really. So he’s my responsibility, I’ve got to get him back.”

“And what exactly do you mean by ‘changed’? That’s a bit too vague for my liking.”

“Everything is too vague for you it seems.” Steven snarks. “It’s just one question after another like you think you’ll actually figure this out before even I do.”

“There’s no need to get rude, you’re my prisoner after all.” Jo gives him a sickly grin. “I’m supposed to interrogate you, did you expect I wouldn’t?”

Steven mumbles uncommunicatively; now he knows what it’s like to be faced with his own particular brand of imposing curiosity.

“Well go on then, answer me.” Jo is insistent though she checks her watch nervously, humming at whatever time she deems it.

“He’s lost his memory. It’s like… everything he was as the Master is gone. This must sound ridiculous, I know that, but it’s true. He even thinks he’s human- I’m assuming you know he isn’t.”

“Of course we know, he’s one of the most alien people I’ve ever met.”

Steven raises his eyebrow. “Do you meet a lot of aliens then?” Whatever UNIT is, it’s certainly not the cushy military group he’d originally expected.

“Well- Uh- I really shouldn’t be talking to you…”

Ah, there it is. She’s afraid. Afraid of herself, afraid of being a liability to UNIT’s security. But also afraid of what Steven is saying, he knows it must sound mad- it’s more than just one person can handle.

Steven sighs deeply, pulling himself together and trying to collect his thoughts. “Just make my cell one close to the Master’s, that’s all I ask.”

“No!” Jo shuts that idea down firmly. “No, I won’t hand you in.”

“Oh? What’s going to happen to me then? We both know we’re not staying here forever. I don’t like being trapped.”

Jo places her finger to her mouth, humming to herself in thought. “I’ll… You can meet my friend, maybe he’ll help you. I’m not sure if I believe your silly story, but if anyone can crack the truth out of you it’ll be him.”

“Why?”

“He’s cleverer than me, and besides… you remind me of him.”

Meanwhile, in one of the laboratories, the Doctor is at work.

He’s forgone his usual room in favour of somewhere more practical- the lab the Tardis occupies is too cluttered with broken machinery and broken hope. This however is a place to start anew, ready for this new project. He’s even sent Jo to fetch them some coffee and biscuits, who knows how long this might take. Carefully the Doctor places the Master’s briefcase down onto one of the countertops and muses over it for a moment before beginning work on opening it.

It’s a metallic case with thick locks which require a code. This code is stubborn, refusing to provide itself to the Doctor despite his insistence that it does so. The Doctor tries everything, his mind reaching into his memory of the depths of the Master’s in an attempt to calculate what the man may have made his password. However nothing works, and the Doctor is left reeling with the thought that he knows his best enemy less than he’d thought.

Left with no other option the Doctor reaches for his toolbox, pulling out a small thin instrument with a pseudo-radar attached- his sonic screwdriver. Slowly he holds the device above the case, making a note of the energy emanating from its interior.

Hovering just above the locks, the Doctor presses one of the screwdriver’s buttons and it begins to let out a high-pitched hum.

“Sorry old chap, but desperate situations…” He mutters as he holds the mechanism of the screwdriver against the lock, pressing down against it with delicate force. “No need to forgive me, we both know you already would.”

The Doctor watches in bemusement as the numbers at the base of the lock begin to whir and figure themselves out. After about a minute or so, they stop spinning to form what appears to be the code: 10071950. It rings the faintest of bells but he can’t quite place it.

“Rather unorthodox for you, why choose that?” The Doctor knows he’s alone but can’t help but spar with the world around him; it’s all he can do while his real world lies locked away and forgotten.

With the code inputted, the Doctor opens the case with ease. It’s larger on the inside (of course), and the first thing his eyes are drawn to are the two sets of clothes folded neatly inside. Hastily he pulls out the Master’s dark tunic set, rubbing his thumb down the collar and finding solace in the unchanged state of the fabric. Koschei's there, he’s real. The Doctor knows nothing compares to his actual presence but any indicator that he had once lived serves to make him momentarily content.

The second set is harder to discern. Gently the Doctor grabs the outfit, his eyes scanning it for familiarity but finding none. This is not the Master’s. These are uniformed robes in an almost Tardis-like blue, regal and understated. The fabric is rough but the Doctor knows heart went into making the outfit- he can tell the stitchmarks were threaded fondly in an attempt to assuage the coarseness. They’re almost childlike, the sleeves stitched feebly by three sets of hands working in tandem for perhaps a parent’s joy.

The Doctor recalls what Marius had said, about having a husband. Was this him? Who is this man who lays in rest alongside the Master, has he too lost himself or does he reside within the case as a show of his dedication? The Doctor knows Marius loves that man, but does he in turn love Marius? The Doctor shivers- there is a stranger living his dream.

Then, hands shaking and numb, he continues his investigation; the pair of clothes lay freely on the countertop. There are tools- the Master’s TCE and various other instruments- as well as books piled on top of one another in a hurried manner. The Doctor gives a faint smile when he sees ‘The Vickiad’ at the bottom of the pile, it has always been one of his favourite classics.

After a while the Doctor concludes the search. Nothing seems particularly conclusive, only serving to further confuse him about the meaning of this collection. When he reaches the bottom, finding nothing but bundles of stripy sock pairs, he concludes that perhaps this isn’t the Master’s after all. The clothes combined with the unfamiliar tone of packing alerts him to the idea that the briefcase may have been Marius’ partner’s idea. That stings, knowing that the stranger is so intertwined with Marius that he sees fit to govern his life and pack it away so decidedly.

However, just when he’s about to close the case, something catches his eye. Tucked into a side pocket is a flickering object, broken and silently screeching for air. The Doctor pulls it out, turning it in his hands to try and reactivate what appeared to be a struggling interface. The screen crackles and fizzes, almost threatening to burn his hands with pure static driven mad.

It’s a photograph, he realises. The colours are pale and faded and he has to look deeply to discern the image projected onto it. With every minute movement of the frame the image shifts, flashing nervously as if ashamed of its destroyed state.

It depicts a family. Marius isn’t party to it, this is something separate from him entirely. There is a man and woman, the man cradling a young baby whilst the woman holds the hands of two young girls. They look happy, settled, fulfilled.

The Doctor’s eyes narrow as he tries to make out the individual’s features. The girls are sharp, the picture surrounding their faces stronger than the others. The tallest has dark brown hair fluffed up in curls around her head like a halo, a lopsided grin on her face as she stares at the newborn her father is presenting her with. The younger (only by a few years) has smaller elfin features and a dignified expression unbecoming of her age.

The woman is faint and the Doctor sees no point in discerning someone so estranged, the man however is clearer.

He’s exhausted, laying in bed with an air of delirious contentment as if he’s found all he’ll ever need in life. The Doctor guesses he’s maybe in his middle forties, looking like an accomplished and dignified figure. His hair, though streaked with thin lines of grey, is a shade of chocolate brown fluffed up about his head lazily.

Then the Doctor looks closer.

And there he is.

After all this time, it’s him.

The Doctor reels back, a blank look on his face contrasting the explosion of thoughts erupting within his brain. That’s Steven, Steven Taylor of Flight Red Fifty, Steven Taylor of the Tardis, his Steven Taylor.

This is his briefcase, it must be. The code, the socks, the robes- it all matches up. Except it doesn’t, it can’t. If this is Steven’s case, then that means…

Marius loves another.

Oh,

oh.

What?

Marius cannot love Steven, Steven cannot love Marius. They shouldn’t even be aware of one another let alone as intertwined as this. They’re separate entities, carrying out their own lives never destined to come crashing into each other’s atmospheres. This doesn’t make sense. How can they love someone other than him? The Doctor’s mind is sticky with dread.

Then he hears footsteps approaching the lab- two pairs, a thick heavy set of boots and Jo’s usual tapping footwear. Quickly he puts the photo down, covering it with the robes as if that could scrub the revelation from his memory.

“There.. There you are Jo, do you have-” The Doctor starts hoarsely (his throat burns with the acidity of shock) before turning around to face… him.

Steven is older than even the photo. His hair is thick with greys, eyes thick with tenseness. His face is the same as always despite its fuller outline and the subtle age lines dancing up and down it. In contrast to the unearthly robes the Doctor would’ve attributed to him, he is wearing an all black ensemble of plain button up shirt and trousers finished off by a gold-buckled belt. He’s just as the Doctor remembered him- a real person. This isn’t his imagination playing tricks on him anymore, this is reality. He’s staring at the Doctor tersely, looking right through him.

“Sorry I took so long!” Jo chirped up in the absence of either man speaking. “I… I think you can help this man, his name is-”

The Doctor finishes it for her, slowly he chokes out the name struggling on the annunciation of something he’d once held so dearly to himself. It had been too long, and everything was wrong now it seemed.

“Steven.”

In return he receives only a blank look.

Chapter Text

“Steven.”

In response Steven can only give a blank look.

He’s sure he’s never seen this stranger before- he’d have remembered that shock of white curls and dramatic velveteen suit. If Steven weren’t on the verge of stress he’d have thought of the man as handsome, his distinguished face pockmarked by years of knowledge and tension standing out as something unique in this drab world. There’s something about him which chills Steven but he pushes that aside for blunt confrontation.

“Yes, that’s me.” He confirms, brow raised. “How did you know?”

The stranger is still staring, mouth agape and expression unseemly. Steven walks over to him and holds out his hand in an attempt to both awaken and greet him. This seems to work, the man emerging from the depths of whatever thoughts he was having to firmly shake Steven’s hand with the well-practiced manner of an old friend; their hands slip into one another’s naturally as if they’d done this before.

“I..” The man chokes out his words, eyes scanning Steven up and down as if trying to calculate his response. “The Master told me.”

The Master told him? Steven knows he must mean Marius but his heart aches at the idea of a Master without his other self. Marius is real enough to have his own identity no matter what anyone here claims.

“You’ve spoken to him?” Steven asks eagerly, not quite willing to smile yet but burgeoning on hope. “How is he?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” Is what Steven gets in return.

Steven bristles like a tame cat turned wild, “I’d say it’s more my business than anyone else’s.”

“I’m sure whatever preconceived fantasies you have about this man are-”

“‘Fantasies’?” Steven rounds on him angrily, “Is that what you’re calling him?”

“It’s an adequate descriptor I should think. A man living a lie whether he knows it or not, and you’ve been facilitating that.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done for him.”

“I can take a rather accurate guess.”

“Who’re you to have an opinion on him, after all he’s my-”

“Would you two stop!” Jo interrupts them brashly, face heating up at her own insubordination, “You’ve not even introduced yourselves and you’re already arguing. Well, go on, say hello like polite people.”

Steven mumbles an apology, rubbing his neck as to assuage the anger in his body. “I’m Steven Taylor, though you knew that already.”

“Quite, I did…” The man mutters softly, “Steven Taylor.”

The man is very easily distracted, Steven thinks. He’s lost in his thoughts again and it takes a prompt from Steven to reignite him. “And you are…?”

“John, Dr John Smith. You can call me Dr Smith.”

“Right.”

Jo smiles brightly, delighting in having calmed the storm. “Now, can I leave you two alone to have a proper, civil conversation? Sorry Doctor but I really must go- I’ve got errands to do, the Brigadier needs me to write out those-”

“Yes, very well.” Dr Smith snaps though not unkindly, “Off you go, don’t keep the Brigadier waiting.”

“Or what, he’ll court-martial me?” Jo jokes before turning to Steven, “I do hope you can figure this out, whatever this is.”

“Me too.” Steven thanks Jo and she darts away, looking back at him and Dr Smith with a scrutinising glance before walking down the corridor heels clicking once more.

“She’s a good assistant, quick on her feet.” Steven says in an attempt to break the ice. Right now it’s still as if he’s drowning, clamouring for air in this claustrophobic lab. The only thing he longs for is familiarity, Dr Smith is a complete stranger. But he knows Marius and that’s enough to keep Steven swimming.

“She can be useful at times.” Dr Smith mumbles. “Where did she find you then? The last time I checked we didn’t let disc jockeys into HQ.”

“Disc jockey?” Steven splutters in outrage looking down at himself. He recalls Dodo’s tales of discos and old-timey clubbing and thinks he can’t resemble a disc jockey that much- Dr Smith must just be being rude for rude’s sake. In fact Steven thinks he’s rather fashionable in spite of the limitations of the 1970s.

“Quite. With your attire presume you must have just escaped the local discotheque.”

“I’m not-” Steven catches himself and his temper, “I’m just a traveller. I’m only here for Marius.”

Dr Smith turns from sarcastic to serious. “You’re not having him back. You’ve done enough damage as is.”

“Damage? I took care of him for weeks on end, what’ve you been doing? Nothing. You didn’t even know he was here until today, did you?”

Dr Smith looks down at the ground. “If I’d have known then…”

“Ah, but you didn’t.” Steven snarks. He’s tired and achesome and just wants to see his partner again. “I had to take responsibility.”

Responsibility for Marius, responsibility for the problems he’d brought upon himself. Steven isn’t sure he can ever forgive himself for breaking the world and leading the Master here- it’s set them both on a course that, while beautiful, is still regrettable.

Suddenly in the corner of his eye Steven spots his briefcase- the keeper of his life before. It’s been ripped open, innards hastily strewn across the lab table. Dr Smith senses his keenness and moves in front of the case, protecting it with his tall frame. He’s a few inches taller than Steven, standing as an imposing figure embroiled in the dramatics of his velvet outfit.

“This is in UNIT’s- my- custody now. Though perhaps if you tell me more about how you ended up in this situation then we might be able to negotiate.” Dr Smith says with a false charming smile. Steven scowls bitterly- he’s not used to having so little power.

“What if I decided to take it by force?” Steven knows he’s not as strong as he’d once been but he’s sure he can still throw a good punch. “It’s my property, my possessions. You’re mad if you think you can just take it all.”

“You took the Master didn’t you. I think everything’s fair play after that.”

Steven hates this little game. It’s cruel and taunting and everything he hasn’t missed after stopping his travels. Back on the Tardis, he’d oftentimes been forced to play into the Doctor’s schemes in order to achieve even the smallest of compromises and this feels hauntingly similar. Neither he or the Doctor had gotten their way back then and Steven fears that this could go the same.

“Force it is then.” Steven starts, rolling up his sleeves ready for a scrap. Dr Smith eyes up his forearms in a way Steven would almost describe as lascivious before holding his own arms out firmly in a fighting position.

“You won’t want to try anything. Venusian Akido- I’m afraid it won’t treat you kindly.”

Steven knows that sort of confidence, it’s exactly what the Doctor used to bring out to take Steven down. It’s never about the physical threat, just the power it exerts over the mind.

“I still want my briefcase back.” Steven petulantly mumbles, folding back into himself arms crossed. He doesn’t pull his sleeves back down, figuring his arms might help distract Dr Smith. It’s certainly working- Steven can tell he’s looking.

“Then tell me: Why are you here? I thought… You’re not from this time.”

“How did you know that?” Marius certainly can’t have told him.

Dr Smith tries an expectant smile at Steven but this leads to nothing. “I.. This briefcase. If you were from this time then you’d have to be a genius to have figured out how to use it.”

“And I can’t possibly just be a genius?”

“No.”

Steven sighs, they won’t get anywhere acting like this. Perpetual arguments do nothing but push aside priorities. Every second that goes by is another second spent by Marius in a cell, and with every second the pressure in Steven’s heart increases. He feels claustrophobic for his partner’s sake.

“Look, I’ll admit that I’m not from this time. I’m not even from this planet.” The sentence slips out before Steven can think it through. He’s an earthman, isn’t he? Yet now his priorities have shifted and changed gear, he’s Uxariean first. Coming back to earth has so far only served to remind Steven how little he belongs.

Dr Smith seems similarly confused, but lets Steven continue. “Mariu- The Master landed on my planet, I went with him but things went wrong. We crashed here, in this time, and the Master forgot himself.”

“And you thought you had the right to make him into someone new?”

“He had nothing else, no one else. What was I supposed to do?”

“You weren’t supposed to do anything! I should’ve been there, then perhaps this whole mess of memories could’ve been avoided. It’s just typical of you to go sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong!”

“Hey! I only did what needed to be done!”

“You’re a meddler!”

“Only because I had to.”

“I’m glad to see nothing’s changed.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Why does this feel so familiar?

Dr Smith’s expression goes cold and he almost falls back against the countertops in shame.

“I think I ought to show you something.” Suddenly he seems smaller, weak like an unsure child caught in a lie. “It’s not far, just in another lab.”

Steven doesn’t think he should trust this stranger, but he does. He does and he doesn’t. He trusts the blind familiarity nagging at his mind, but he doesn’t trust the nature of Dr Smith himself. Though this too is familiar- the battle of loyalty and cynicism.

So, with this struggle ongoing in his head, Steven nods. “And then you’ll give me my things back.”

“Perhaps.” Steven hates when people are purposefully obtuse.

Dr Smith takes meaningful strides dripping with guilt out of the lab. Steven follows behind, similarly heavy footed.

“I’ve told you about my story, how about yours?” He starts, desperately following behind Dr Smith. “UNIT deals with the extraordinary- How?”

Dr Smith laughs, “I’m how. Most of the men here are just military goons with nothing to do besides sit around and wait to fire. I’m UNIT’s scientific advisor, if they can’t figure something out they come to me.”

“You’re the bragging type then.”

“No. I just know I’m right.”

Steven scoffs, Dr Smith glaring back at him. “Alright then, let’s say this place does depend on you. Besides that, why are you here? You’re not military, that much I can tell.”

“Indeed, never.” Dr Smith glances at Steven, something unreadable in his face that makes Steven’s hair stand up on end. “I’m their recruit. It’s my duty, my punishment even.”

Steven goes cold, he doesn’t know why. “Punishment? Don’t tell me you’re some sort of outer-space criminal too?” He doesn’t know when he started assuming Dr Smith as someone otherworldly but that thought slips out naturally. He knows the Master well enough to assume him some kind of equal- equals in universal deviance perhaps, hurtling through space burning up everything until punishment befalls the pair of them. The Master had fallen to earth, who was to say Dr Smith hadn’t too?

“I’m here to repent for my… ‘Mistakes’.”

“Mistakes in who’s opinion?”

“Not yours nor mine. I was just trying to help, I thought perhaps that… I was trying to be better.”

It’s at this point that Steven realises he knows this man. He must. Steven doesn’t know who he is, but he knows this stranger in front of him. There's a voice in the back of his head screaming, begging for him to recognise this frilled velveteen figure, but Steven cannot reconcile this appearance to anyone he’s ever known.

He’s here against his will. Trapped, contained for a ‘mistake’. Steven knows how that feels. Marius knows how that feels. Everyone is stuck, perhaps that’s why they found each other.

The Master was on a course for chaos, Steven for peace, and this new man for freedom. Now they lie in wake together, suffering in amiable silence amongst this estranged home. Earth will never be Steven’s home again, perhaps it will be Dr Smith’s- with the Master left stranded in pure anomie and homeless passion.

Steven knows so many strangers, yet Dr Smith stands out. He’s a friend yet a villain at the same time, Steven feels ill at how much his soul recognises him.

They’re both quiet until Dr Smith stops before a doorway. Silently he nods, pointing Steven inwards.

Awkwardly Steven steps into the lab. It’s like its predecessor though much messier. A whole life is strewn across counters, innumerable unidentifiable objects fleshing out the mad image of Dr Smith that Steven is building up in his clogged mind. Everything is unusual and alien, an unearthly room serving as… Home?

But no, there is a home here already.

The Tardis is a monument, a temple standing sacred in the corner of the room. A smudge of blue stretching out across into Steven’s mind which blinds him with familiarity. That’s the Tardis, that’s his ship, his saviour. Steven feels as though he must be dead, every emotion willing him into disbelief. This must be the beyond, that or some cruel dream designed to taunt him with every missed opportunity and forgotten kiss.

“I don’t…” Steven stutters, unable to find the words nor strength to continue. “Where is he?”

The Doctor was his co-pilot. They had crashed together, a mess of fury and fate and eternal suffering bound together by nothing but their own stubborn wills. The Doctor had sent him away, sentencing him the ultimate punishment of a happy life. A happy life without him. The Doctor is his greatest loss, for perhaps it is better to die for love rather than give it up altogether.

“You know, you must now.” Dr Smith is clear. The truth is unavoidable, the ugly, beautiful, retched, gorgeous truth. Steven doesn’t understand. The Doctor isn’t supposed to be him. The Doctor is a young man, face lined with inexperience and hair white with innocence. He is a boy, as young as Steven had once been. This man is sharpened, his blunt features threatening the years spent apart. And yet Steven knows in the depths of his soul that this is the same Doctor he met on Mechanus all those lifetimes ago.

“Doc- Doctor…?”

“Hello Steven. Hello my friend.”

“It’s you, it’s really you isn’t it.” Steven feels like a clown, incapable of forming coherent thoughts, his mind stumbling blindly in shock. “You’re him.”

It’s a silly question, of course he’s him. It’s always him.

“You’re real, you are aren’t you?” Sometimes Steven still has to make sure. “I mean- I must be dreaming.”

“Dreaming? I’m as real as anyone, you know I always have been.”

“I thought I knew a lot of things.”

“I’ve missed you-”

“Don’t.” Steven hates this anger, it lives inside of him reserved for the one man who understands it. “You can’t just say you miss me to make it all alright. You’ve… Changed.”

“More than once since I last saw you.” The Doctor admits, “I’m sorry.”

Steven isn’t quite sure why he’s apologising. “Don’t be. I don’t know you anymore, why should I care if you’ve changed.” It hurts to lie. “I haven’t known you for years.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I? Doctor, it's been decades. You left me, I moved on.”

“That’s just it. I left you so that you could move on!”

“Well good job, I’ve got a whole life without you now!” The Doctor flinches, Steven can almost see regret in his eyes.

“Where is it then? I saw the photograph, I’d have to be dim not to recognise you. Where is this so-called new life, it’s not here that much is clear.”

“You had no right to intrude on my things!”

“Well neither did you!”

They’re burning up now. Scalding hot and advancing dangerously close in the heat. Steven feels the sweat soaking his skin, face hot with fury and mind erupting with pain and passion.

“I lost them, okay! I stowed away and lost my family, my home, everything I love! Now it’s just me, just me and-”

Marius. The Master. The Master and the Doctor. Steven recalls meeting the Master and the way he’d described the Doctor as an ‘old friend’. Everything was slipping into place now- that’s why ‘Dr Smith’ had been so furious, he was protecting one of his own.

“You can’t have him.” The Doctor cuts into Steven’s thoughts. “Marius, or the Master, isn’t yours to lov- To possess.”

“You can’t tell me what I can or can’t do. You couldn’t then and you can’t now.”

“I think you’ll find that’s exactly what I did, my dear.”

Steven’s heart races. An immature rush of feelings is crashing back uncomfortably, sticking to his soul. They are both older, but unchanged at heart.

“It’s… It’s been a long time, Doctor.”

“Too long.”

“I didn’t mean to… I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“I know.”

Steven’s head rings with present turmoil and echoes with past struggle. None of this should have happened. Steven knows he shouldn’t love Marius, that he shouldn’t still think of the Doctor. The Doctor shouldn’t think of him either, and Marius never should have existed. Everyone is entangled with well-worn twine, charted against one another like figures on an astral map.

It’s impossible to ignore how the Doctor spoke of the Master, Steven finds it eerily familiar and strikingly intimate. There’s no need for questions or assumptions, the truth is laid bare by this old new man.

“You love him, don’t you.” Steven admits. “You’re his, he’s yours.” He was never supposed to be part of this equation.

“I…” The Doctor is at a loss, “He’s the only one who stayed. I lost everything, coming here. But not him, he came back for me. He had to.”

“I would’ve stayed.”

“And it would have destroyed you.”

The Doctor reaches out his hand, placing his palm against the flushed skin of Steven’s cheek. “You got old, my dear Steven.” Steven nods softly, meeting the Doctor’s hand with his own.

“I’m only human, time can't just stop for me.” Time had hurt him before, now it’s coming back for him.

The Doctor, looking down, starts to properly examine Steven’s face.
“You’re taller than me.” Steven notes distractedly. He’s more concerned with staring into the Doctor’s eyes, committing this new man to memory. Now, thinking both clearly and wildly, this Doctor is certainly handsome.

“I do hope you don’t mind that.”

“No, no of course not.” Steven’s throat catches his voice, leaving it sticky and raw with emotion. “I can get used to it.”

The Doctor nods, finally smiling. This grin envelops his entire face, crinkling it like well-read paper. Steven can’t help but shake the uncanny feeling sitting in the pit of his stomach- beside this Doctor he sees the old man he’d known, he is a silent observer to this rebirth.

Steven knows he needs to take the plunge. He’d been a coward before, too young and foolish to let things change. All those years of travelling and pining had left his soul tired, withdrawn and hopeless. But now they are here, together again. Steven feels more alive than he has for lifetimes.

His feelings surge forwards and so does he. Steven locks his mouth onto the Doctor’s, facing little resistance. The Doctor welcomes it even, expectant and longing. Their faces press into one another feeling the depths of their souls as a way to adjust to the changes in one another. Steven feels the salty aftertaste of the Doctor’s lips press against his desperately, reciprocating with his own sweet taste. They have never done this before, but it feels as natural as arguing. It’s a battle of strength, both sides overwhelmed by the payoff of decades of lost passion, fighting for one another’s affection.

“I was lying earlier.” Steven gasps for air, “I did miss you, I always missed you.” He’s suffocating in long awaited pleasure, happy to asphyxiate in this rush of feelings and retrieved emotion.

This is vastly different to any kiss from Marius. He had been soft, delicate and filled with subtle vulnerability. Marius needed to kiss Steven, but the Doctor wanted to. The Doctor is villainous and combative in his love, whereas Marius (and Steven knew the Master would be too) was empathetic and deliciously desperate. Steven can’t prefer one or the other, he delights in both.

The Doctor, still holding onto him, pushes Steven back against the Tardis exterior. Steven shivers feeling the electric hum racing down his back; his skin feels on fire with life. Then the Doctor messily moves his hands to cup Steven’s entire face, brushing his fingers against the greying strands of hair reaching down to stand along his neck.

“I missed your whole life…” The Doctor notes amidst his endeavours. “You’ve changed.”

“Not as much as you.” Steven runs his hand through the Doctor’s fluffy shock of grey hair, it’s as soft as the suit material Steven is pressing his palm against.

“Your family, your… She doesn’t mind this?”

“She doesn’t.”

“Marius might.”

“You know him, the Master, tell me he won’t.”

“...He won’t. Not if it’s us.”

“It’s always us, isn’t it.”

“Always.”

Steven’s mouth aches for the pressure of a thousand newly stolen kisses. He’s exhausted, worn-out from fulfilment. Slowly he pulls away, the Doctor still holding onto him like a precious artefact. Steven supposes he must seem dangerously human compared to the Master- a fleeting futile moment compared to lifetimes. The Master had called the Doctor a ‘very old friend’, Steven knows he can never compare.

They’ve stopped kissing. Steven reels back, separating himself from the Doctor with intimate harshness. His heart fires up with fury and shame at himself for falling. This is too complex, too long-awaited, too heavy. The Doctor looks at him concernedly, Steven can only see affection in his eyes. It’s not been earned nor granted, the Doctor simply has that right.

“We can’t. Not like this.” Steven’s voice is dripping with thick, sticky guilt. He doesn’t mean it. “We’re not alone, you have the Master…”

“The Master is different.” Steven knows he means it.

“So is Marius…”

“You’re truly fond of him Steven, aren’t you?” Steven hates how pitying the Doctor sounds.

Steven nods. “I need to protect him, I just need to give him a chance at living- I need him to give me a chance again.”

“The Master always was one for second chances, Marius will be similarly forgiving.”

“Is this what this is for you too? A second chance, here on earth.”

“We’re trying.”

“I don’t get it. Why are you here, what ‘punishment’ is this?”

The Doctor separates himself from Steven, turning his back on him and hunching into himself. Steven gets the sense he’s trying to be someone else. From behind he can still see the Doctor ringing his hands nervously with a clownish manner, it’s like he’s trapped between the first man Steven had known and this new figure.

“Well, I did some rather reprehensible things. In the eyes of my people that is.”

“Your people? You mean there’s more of you out there? Other than the Master, and the Monk.”

“Yes, we’re a whole collective. A collective mostly without morals, they… Let’s just say they weren’t very fond of my style of action- my interfering.”

Steven doesn’t understand. “But you don’t interfere? You stopped the Monk from meddling, and after that… You wouldn’t let anything change.” He finishes, silently bitter. It had been many, many years since that day in Paris, but the wound had dug deep into his soul. Everyone died, the Doctor had forced him to become a callous observer. Steven can’t reconcile that sour argument with everything that came after and was still to come.

The Doctor turns around to Steven and shakes his head, a melancholy smile outlining his face. “Steven, you really are the most remarkable of men.” Steven tilts his head in confusion and the Doctor continues:

“I’ve changed now. I think that… A great deal of regard should be taken for human life. I called upon the Time Lords- my own people- to help me save the lives of thousands trapped in a place far away from their own time. They found me guilty of interfering with history, and sentenced me to exile here, changed. In a way you could say I died for humanity. But I don’t regret it, not if it makes you proud.”

Steven’s heart stops. The Doctor had interfered. The Doctor had done it for him. The Doctor had died for him. Another bloodless death on his bloodless hands. He isn’t sure whether to scream out in anguish or love. So he stays silent, judging this new Doctor through a new lens.

“I wanted to prove how far I’d come. This new body, it’s a marker of that.” The Doctor holds his arms out demonstratively. “Perhaps that’s why the Master sought me out. A change like that, a willingness to defy, it can only hold allure to him.”

Steven still can’t bring himself to understand this transformation, this change is both physical and moral. “I still don’t understand how you changed. I mean, it’s impossible.” Yet he believes in it with all his heart. Anything to save the Doctor from crumbling to dust and ashes once he’s lived out one lifetime.

“You always were a skeptic weren’t you.” The Doctor mumbles affectionately. “It’s the gift of my people, we can renew our bodies. If we’re dying we heal anew. I suppose it’s rather like a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis, on an ongoing cycle.”

“The man I knew, the old Doctor, he died then.” Steven hates that fact.

“I’m sorry. I was exhausted, I had to or I’d just… Stop.”

“Were you alone?” Dodo wasn’t with him, Steven begged he hadn’t been forced to do that without company. The Doctor needed people around him, it was what kept him going at heart. That old man, as misanthropic as he presented himself as, had always been desperate for companionship- Steven hoped he'd been given that dignity in death.

“I wasn’t.” Thank goodness, Steven thought. “I had people, they made sure I was alright.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“Don’t be. I wouldn’t have wanted you to see that. You deserve better.”

Steven then has a thought. “The Master, could he change too?”

“Yes.” The Doctor curtly replies. Steven thinks it must be an intimate process, he’s not surprised the Doctor is reluctant to enlighten him. “He’s renewed himself many times, I worry that…”

“That what?”

“He can’t keep going forever.”

Steven wonders what that means. He can’t imagine the Master, or the Doctor ever truly dying. They’re revenant figures constantly rising from the ashes of destruction, cursed to life just like Steven. Steven thinks he shouldn’t like their ‘gift’, he’s haunted by life enough as is without the permanence of a ‘Time Lord’.

He hopes the Master will keep going. Marius too, he’s human to himself but just as alien as his first layer deep down. Steven can sense his otherworldliness, it claws its way into every aspect of Marius without even meaning to.

“We need to see him.” Steven suddenly says. “You do, I do. Marius needs us both.”

They’re intertwined now, under one another’s skin with a ferocity rivalling anything else. Steven needs to break away from the Doctor and reconcile with his partner, not out of dislike of one but instead love for the other.

He can’t choose, perhaps he doesn’t have to.

The Doctor and the Master make up one full human- one real, flawed, beautiful person. They’re two halves of a coin, together they make up the currency of humanity. Steven feels he can love both halves, that would fulfil him. He just doesn’t know if, in finding one another again, the Doctor or the Master would still choose to love him.