Perdition

A/N: Trying something new. It's rather dark really. It's meant to be gen but can be looked on as 10/Simm!Master slash. Please review and let me know what you think.

Allons-y!

Summery: You never wanted this. You never wanted him dead. But it's too late and it's your fault. And now perdition is all you have to look forward to. The Master's POV. Can be SLASH. Death fic.

You have been warned.


He's dead. After all this time he's finally dead. Laying prone and motionless in front of you. A sad and crumpled form, unmoving and utterly lifeless on the cold tiled ground.

Broken and bloody on the floor as a red-orange puddle spreads out from beneath him. Blood.

It's what you've wanted for so long. All you've dreamt about for so very long until it kept you up at night. And after all this time of chasing the fool across the stars you've finally beaten him. Finally gotten the upper hand in the endless game you've played.

But it doesn't feel right. Something's missing, something very important.

It's in this moment, looking at your greatest enemy laying in front of you as you yourself lay on the hard tile floor after taking your own share of hits and shaking like a leaf, that you realise that this isn't what you wanted.

All you ever asked was to win, just once. Just one lousy round of this childish game of back and forth. You just wanted to come out on top for once, to show everyone what you're really capable of. Your whole life you've been ridiculed and belittled by your own people and all you've ever wanted was to win.

But not like this. This is wrong. You've gone so far off the mark this time not even you could take pride in this feat. The drums aren't appeased either, still pounding relentlessly against your aching skull driving you mad. And you're utterly disgusted with yourself.

Oh, Rassilon, what have you done?

You begin to wonder, maybe they were right all along, you are just a monster. A cold blooded monster.

And now the Freak's being bold and steps up, aiming his gun right at your head as the woman, Martha, weeps hopelessly behind him. He looks furious and gives you a cold, murderous glare. With all the intentions to blow your brains across the shinny polished floor of the Valiant for what you've just done.

And you can't blame him. As much as the sight of him disgusts you, all you can think is, 'do it. God please do it.'

But something stops him in his tracks. His murderous stare slowly morphing into more. You see the emotions flash across his face. Shock. Anger. More shock. Then confusion. Utter confusion at your actions, but not without that raw fury. And that's when you realise your crying. You, of all people are crying in a heap on the floor of your own ship as your best enemy lay dead before you and it's all your fault. No wander the Freak seemed shocked.

You didn't mean to, sure you were planning on it, but not yet and surly not like this.

The Freak hesitates, lowering the weapon only a fraction, you could over power him easy. But you won't. He seems unsure. Why? Because the supposed sociopathic psychopath who tried taking over the Earth is crying his eyes out in front of you.
'Oh grow a pair Captain and just shoot!' You practically beg in your pounding, aching head.

You lean forward slightly, looking him dead in the eyes before closing them as you rest your head against the cold steel. Practically pleading with him to just pull the trigger already. To end all this. You see no point in hanging around here any longer. Your only reason for living now lay dead less than a foot away. The only one you've ever cared for and actually reciprocated those feelings. Your drive, he's basically been your drug all these years. Hell, your best friend once upon a time! Because wether you like it or not, that's what he was. All this time you've been in denial, avoiding the truth with your petty attempts to take over planets and to end his life. But you know now, you know how very wrong you were.

You've killed him.

You now realise you never really wanted this. Just the thought of what you've done twists your stomach in all kinds of uncomfortable nots.

Because a life without him isn't a life worth living. Not a life you want. Because you no longer feel like the Master. Just Koschie. Scared and so alone without the Doctor. Without Theta Sigma. Your best friend.

And all you can do is hope and pray that death with bring you together again. Let you roll across the lushes red grass fields of Gallifrey. Which is why you smile in the short moments before he finally pulls the trigger.

Sending you straight for perdition.