The Man Who Regrets : Doctor Who [1] ✓

50 : End of Time (Part 3)

In an abandoned warehouse that night, the Doctor walks towards the Master, who fires bolts of energy at him from his hands. He misses, and sets fires burning behind the Doctor. The third try hits the Doctor squarely in the chest, stopping him moving forward. Finally the energy stops and the Doctor falls to his knees. The Master catches him, then lets him fall to the ground.

“I had estates,” the scruffy man muses. “Do you remember my father’s land back home? Pastures of red grass, stretching far across the slopes of Mount Perdition. We used to run across those fields all day, calling up at the sky. Look at us now.”

“All that eloquence,” the Doctor retorts. “But how many people have you killed?”

“I am so hungry.”

“Your resurrection went wrong. That energy… Your body’s ripped open. Now you’re killing yourself.”

“That Human Christmas out there. They eat so much. All that roasting meat, cakes and red wine. Hot, fat, blood, food. Pots, plates of meat, and flesh, and grease, and juice, and baking, burnt, sticky hot skin. Hot. It’s so hot.”

Violet recoils away from the revived Master, more terrified of him than she’s ever been before. Any other time she’s been around him, he’s been quite sane for a murderous psychopath, but how he is right now is petrifying her.

“Stop it,” the Doctor orders, noting his second wife’s discomfort.

The Master continues as if he didn’t hear his old friend. “Sliced. Sliced. Sliced.”

“Stop it.”

“It’s mine. It’s mine. It’s mine to eat and eat and eat.”

“Stop it. What if I ask you for help? There’s more at work tonight than you and me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I’ve been told something is returning.”

“And here I am.”

“No, something more.”

“But it hurts.”

“I was told the end of time.”

“It hurts. Doctor, the noise. The noise in my head, Doctor. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. Stronger than ever before. Can’t you hear it?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Listen, listen, listen, listen. Every minute, every second, every beat of my hearts, there it is, calling to me. Please listen.”

Violet can hear the four beats being played out by an iron bar on an oil drum somewhere, but she knows that it is only the echo of the sound she heard earlier. However, the next second, the drumbeats from the Master’s mind fills hers, making her hiss a breath out through her teeth.

“I can’t hear it,” the Doctor replies, sounding somewhat sad that he can’t.

“Listen.” The Master mind-melds with the Doctor.

The Doctor hears the beats and pulls away.




“I heard it, but there’s no noise. There never has been. It’s just your insanity.”

Violet laughs and it sounds borderline insane, startling the two Time Lords. “You might not be able to hear it, Doctor, but I can. It echoes in my head. When it’s not there, all I hear is this endless cry, and I feel this pull to be around him - around you, Master. I wonder why that is.”

The Master tilts his head curiously and stares at the young half Gallifreyan with wonder. “You can hear the drums.”

“Yes, I have heard them since we met at the end of the universe.”

The Doctor looks between the two, and the more he does, the more he sees the similarities between his wife and his friend. It makes his stomach churn and his mind fly through multi-million possibilities, but he always comes back to the first possibility that pops into his head - that Violet is the Master’s daughter. Letting out a small sigh, he shifts and draws the attention of the two other members of his species.

“Vi, I have an idea as to why you can hear what’s inside the Master’s head,” the Doctor says hesitantly, two pairs of curious eyes boring into his. “I think you might be-”

“His daughter?” Violet interrupts with a sad smile. “Oh, how I wish that weren’t true.”

“You knew? For how long?”

“I didn’t know for a fact, but I had a feeling when he and I came back to this time; when we left you, Jack and Martha at the end of the universe. I just never asked, and he never told. It’s really the only thing that makes sense.”

The Master looks at Violet with curiosity, a smirk beginning to grow on his face. “I knew there was something I liked about you, and something familiar. The way you reacted when the drums grew louder had me thinking, but I didn’t want to say anything.”

The Doctor peers at his oldest friend. “What is it? What’s inside your head? And why can she hear it?”

“It’s real. It’s real. It’s real!”

The Master flies off, startling Violet and the Doctor. They run after him and find him standing in a derelict field, surrounded by rubbish. At this confirmation of Violet being the Master’s daughter, all she can manage is a pleading look for the man she’s been searching for, but she knows that it will do her no good at this moment - or at any time really.

“All these years, you thought I was mad,” her newfound father crows. “King of the wasteland. But something is calling me, Doctor. What is it? What is it? What is it?”

A bright light shines down on the Master, then a second one illuminates the Doctor. A pair of SAS types come down on ropes, grab the Master and inject him with something to knock him out. Violet screeches and darts forward, somehow avoiding the raining bullets as others fire their guns at her and the Doctor to make them stay back, and the Master is hoisted up into the helicopter. The Doctor follows Violet’s example at that moment and runs forward.

“Let him go!” The Doctor is shot in the back.

: : : :

The Doctor parks the TARDIS outside the Nobles’ house, agony etched into his ancient face, and not just from the bullet wound. He and Violet leave the blue box, the latter resting against it as the former throws a rock or something against Wilfred’s window. The old man looks out a few seconds later to see the Doctor returning to Violet and his TARDIS, and it’s only a moment later that Wilfred is standing with them.

“I lost him. I was unconscious,” the Doctor informs. “He’s still on Earth, I can smell him and Violet can sense him, but he’s too far away.”

“Listen, you can’t park there,” Wilfred says with worry. “What if Donna sees it?”

“You’re the only one, Wilf. The only connection I can think of. You’re involved, if I could work out how. Tell me, have you seen anything? I don’t know. Anything strange, anything odd?”

“Well, there was a…”

“What? What is it? Tell me.”

“Well, it was… No, it’s nothing.”

“Think-a think-a think. Maybe something out of the blue. Something connected to your life. Something.”

“Well, Donna was a bit strange. She had a funny little moment, this morning, all because of that book.”

“What book?”

“His name’s Joshua Naismith.” Wilfred shows the book to the Doctor and Violet.

“That’s the man,” Violet says monotonously. “We were shown him by the Ood.”

“By the what?”

“By the Ood,” the Doctor says.

“What’s the Ood?” Wilfred asks, confused.

“They’re just the Ood. But it’s all part of the convergence. Maybe? It may be touching Donna’s subconscious. Oh, she’s still fighting for us, even now. The Doctor Donna.”

“Dad, what are you up to?” Sylvia asks, but her demeanour changes the moment she sees Violet and the Doctor. “You two. But… Get out of here.”

“Merry Christmas,” the Doctor says.

“Merry Christmas. But she can’t see you. What if she remembers?”

“Mum, where are those tweezers?” Donna calls, her voice echoing in the early morning.

“Go,” Sylvia pleads.

“We’re going,” the Doctor says.

Violet turns on her heel and walks into the TARDIS, barely listening to the conversation. She’s too out of focus, too numb really, to have the attention span to focus on what’s happening, and she knows that it’s about time for another dose of her medicine, the time between each dose getting shorter each time. With a sigh, she pulls the injector from her jacket pocket and places it against her arm, pulling the trigger and letting out a breath of relief as the familiar icy sensation works its way through her body.

Stuffing it back into her pocket, Violet walks around the console as the Doctor and Wilfred enter, flipping switches and pressing buttons as she goes. The Doctor speeds up the metal stairs and does the same, leaving Wilfred to wander up to them at his own pace as the TARDIS dematerialises.

Hey, all.

So, contrary to what you might be thinking after reading this chapter, I did not plan for Violet to be the Master’s daughter at all. I honestly didn’t even really know what I was typing until I read through this chapter again.

- Chey xo -

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