All Started with a Big Bang [Koschei]

[The Doctor]

(England, 1684).

Because he could, just because the Doctor stood watching the Big Bang. He stood rocking on the balls of his feet swaying in the doorway of the TARDIS. The Time Lord looked contented. He was happy and almost bouncy about watching the universal membranes colliding together and causing life to form in the Cosmos. The same cosmic energy that made and broke his own planet of Gallifrey.

Darting back to the hexagonal TARDIS console the Doctor flicked a few buttons and fast forward though the vortex to the planet Earth's formation. The Milky Way spun around beyond the TARDIS door's the planetary disk of spinning derby with gravity holding together the fundamentals of the solar system. Earth spun around and around and the Doctor watched for a moment and grew board. It seemed like a good idea when he originally came up with going to watch the Big Bang but then he knew the rest of the history. He had after all learnt it when he was six or seven years of age. Including all the basic science along with it-- try calculus before turing six.

His hands wandered over the coral before he plugged in new coordinates to another time in the Earth's history and found himself being flung back as the TARDIS jerked it's way though the vortex once more.

"What's this eh?"

Not knowing, that was always the best part. Moments later the Doctor moved his way too the doors and opened them waltzing outdoors and took a smell about.

"Interesting, 16th Century perhaps...." he licked the air testing it. "Yep defiantly 16th Century. ISSAC NEWTON!"

The Doctor had meet him once before and taught him all about his laws of Gravity-- well helped him out by tossing apples on his head. He wondered if Newton would remember him. "Naw, probably not." Walking over he peered over him for a moment.

"Can I help you?"

"Ah now there's a good question. Love you for always asking the right kinds of questions. How's your physical laws going? No-- never mind that. Just never mind. I'll just be on my way...."

A shrill scream coated the valley and the Doctor looked at Newton with long lost eyes before hopping into a run. "Now this is more like it."

[The Master]

Thump, thump, thump, thump, how he hated it. He would even go as far as to say that he was going mad. That is, if he hadn’t already gone mad. The man appeared little more than a rancid beggar. His tattered clothing was so threadbare and worn that it was barely noticeable that something was wrong with them. It may have been the cut or the color, but mostly it was the fabrics themselves. They were too synthetic for this world, this time, and this place.

A hood covered his head and obscured his face in shadow. He could leave he knew. He could leave at anytime. He had his precious Time Rings but he did not wish to. He wanted to stay in a place and time that even he would not be recognized by any member of the populace. He sat there, watching the people and the world as it seemed to pass him by. But he didn’t care. His time was already passed. He shouldn’t be… and yet he was here.

He knew that whatever gave him this last chance at life, that this was truly the last life he would ever live. So far he had spent a great deal of it in hiding. Hiding with the help of his fob watch and then hiding in this remote and distant past. No one would find him here. He could live out what was left of his painful and maddening existence in a sort of peace. Did he ever think of shedding this persona and leaving the world behind to find somewhere new and without the stench of the human apes? Of course he did. He thought of it often. But something held him back. Some small glimmer of a feeling that he could not properly put a name to.

He had become a sad excuse for a Time Lord, but what did he care. They had betrayed him. Every single one of them was a subject of deepest loathing… and The Doctor, the man who couldn’t believe as a child that his best friend had been damaged somehow. That something coursed through his mind in a painful and endless drumming. So many years it had took before even The Doctor understood. There was something there that should not have been.

Something sounded in the distance and he looked towards it sharply out of reflex. It was the sound of a scream. Shrill and full of terror the scream was. The man stood and looked off into the distance towards the sound and started walking towards it. His gait making him look less the beggar or a urchin and more a dark menacing shadow, a wraith, a creature of untold mysteries. He did not rush towards the sound. But curiosity over came him.

[The Doctor]

Running though the fields the Doctor rolled over his coat tripping upon the hem. He was heading for the scream. His hearts raced in his chest beating in a double time heart beat. The Doctor laid still the pale green grass catching his breath and gazed at the sky in a slight daze. His mind wandered to a distant time, another place of a world of crimson grass and of a burnt orange sky. The world of the shining systems, Gallifrey. It was gone, all thanks to him. And yet as much as he wanted to go back, as much as Martha Jones wanted to see the snow covered mountains, he could never take her home. As firstly Humans were not entirely welcome and that he had destroyed it long ago.

Moments later he had clamored back to his feet and looked around in awe. His mouth hung slightly open with his eye brows pressed together in an expression of wonder. The screaming had stopped, perhaps it was a child lost from home or -- well he was somewhere. Looking around the Doctor tried to make sense of it all. Of Sir Isaac Newton under the apple tree, of the 17th century, of the shill scream, and that he was alone in the universe.

It wasn't fair. It simply wasn't fair.

Then he felt something old yet something new in the air. He could feel it deep down in his guts. The Doctor paused and slowed down his breathing. He closed his eyes and felt a little faint as the body he was sensing was almost impossible. He almost didn't wish to believe and yet he wad forced to.

"No it can't be," he half whispered to himself. But the Face of Boe's words echoed in his mind. You Are Not Alone. It's what Jack had told him. "I am not alone," he said out loud a little bedazzled by the idea.

His eyes wandered the landscape and then he saw something most interesting. A shaded figure on the horizon. "No, it can't be... or can it?"

[The Master]

He felt something in the air, something familiar, and something that stopped him dead within his tracks. The screams that he had heard faded and died. But with the death of those screams came a chill that reached down from within and grabbed him with a terrible force. He stood there for several moments. Unsure of where the source of the unpleasant feelings came from. It took him moments to realize that it was real and his imagination was not playing tricks upon his rhythm infected mind.

Slowly and with trepidation of what he would find he turned and stopped and his mind began to race. Out across the distance a figure stood in a field of grass that reached out across the land. “Not here, not now, not ever.” For just a moment the surprise was over whelming, so over whelming that even the drums within his own mind seemed but a distance echo.

An unpleasant shiver ran down his spine. Memories of long ago tried to force themselves to the surface of his memories. The memory of two young boys standing in the pastures of red grasses that spread out as far as the eye could see on Mount Perdition and looking towards the skies and the adventures they could have.

It should have been a pleasant memory and for anyone else it would have been. But for The Master it felt more like an unhealed sore that festered within his psyche.

Slowly he took a step backwards from the unwanted sight and the distant figure that brought it rushing back to him. If it hadn’t been for his people those adventures may have even happened. But now he was nothing but a hollow shell of himself. He felt insubstantial and like little more than a wrath wandering the worlds and hoping for everything to end.

And how that distant figure must despise him and everything he had done. Not only to him but to his precious humans; the apes that spread out across the galaxies like a festering cancer. He had tried to take over their world of origin. The world that all human life had originated but he had failed. Again and again the Doctor and his companions had found a way to stop him.

There was no doubt as to who the figure was he could feel him within his mind. His hearts beating alongside the drumming it was maddening those drums. They thudded louder and more painfully and The Master did the only thing left to him.

He began to run; away from the sight before him, away from the visions of red grasses and his childhood friend. He could no longer think the sounds within his mind becoming defending and yet no one could hear, no one could understand, no one could stop them and the madness that they brought with them.

[The Doctor]

He ran after him, the Doctor was always the faster of the two. He always won their races though the meadows as a child. He couldn't bear to loose him again. Not now, not ever. He loved him, somewhere deep deep down. How could he let him go? Let him leave him, alone again? Dying once in his arms, was too much. His hearts churned and he followed darting after him.

Please don't go, I need you. I can't bare to be alone anymore.

Coat bellowing behind him, picked up slightly so he wouldn't trip over himself he jogged across the meadows; gaining acceleration. His trainers squeaked against the grass, and as he ran he could feel the force of gravity pulling him downward, the force of friction keeping him in motion, moving on a plane in the x direction, and most of all he could feel the turn of the Earth.

"I can help," he called out to him. Now completely forgetting the scream from far off. It didn't matter now. He wasn't alone. Koschei was here. He felt safe, yet he knew better than that. The Master was no good, not anymore, not since he tossed him into the black hole.

[The Master]

The Master ran but even when he had been at his physical peak he had been little match for the speed of the Doctor. He knew that running was futile. Even now he could feel that the Doctor was gaining on him. The Master stumbled and almost fell losing his footing upon the grass. He knew it was a lost cause and that his life would probably end soon.

He thought about that prospect for a few seconds and decided that he wasn’t sure he cared if he did die. He was sure that the Doctor in the end would see to it that he paid for his crimes against those precious apes of his. He could almost hear the sounds of running feet behind him. He could feel the nearness and he wanted to hide away within himself to escape the man who owned those running feet.

He could hear the words drifting from behind him; the plea that the Master knew to be false. No one could help him now. He was little more than a wraith, an insubstantial figure that time and death had forgotten. He knew he was beat, he knew that the Doctor would catch him and in any case there was nowhere to hide. Yes, he would teleport away into another time but what would that do but delay the inevitable. The Doctor would never stop until he had him cornered and captured and imprisoned like a mongrel or worse.

Suddenly his body gave out and he crashed to the ground with enough force to make his teeth rattle. He knew then that everything was over, the Doctor had him. He wanted to weep at the injustice of it all. The he would not be permitted to just waste away and spend the rest of his life in peace. He could not help it. It was almost reflex. The Master reached up and covered his head in vain; wanting nothing more than to block out the drumming and the inevitable capture. “Can’t I die in peace?” He moaned.

Sitting up in defeat he looked at the advancing figure and reached up and pulled the hood from his thin almost skeletal and pale white face. His eyes blazed with conflicting emotions of defeat, fear, and a certain amount of loathing. He wasn’t sure if the loathing was directed at the Doctor or at himself for becoming such a pathetic wreck that he didn’t even have the energy left to stand up and face the Doctor and berate him for spoiling his non-existent plans.

He looked at the Doctor and gave him a defeated look, “if you’re going to kill me please do it quickly and permanently, I don’t want to walk away from it this time.” He fell back against the grass with eyes closed; face up feeling the wind on his face. He could almost imagine that he was once again that small innocent boy laying in red grass filled fields and looking up at the sky. With these thoughts he was sure that his death wouldn’t be as bad as it could have been. Thinking of one’s childhood while dying was not the worst was to go.

[The Doctor]

Oh, dear. Here we go again.

Racing down hill the Doctor accelerated in a positive velocity. He thought about Sir Isaac Newton, under the apple tree and the good memories they had shared with one another. Perhaps it was irony smiling down on him, but then again as his Uncle always lectured, physics was everywhere in nature. It had it's hold on the web of space-time that always always expanding. The expanding universe, filled with wonderful and terrible things. Some good and some just plain exciting. The Doctor was always bug eyed for an adventure. It kept him going, on his feet, and doing something truly spectacular and mind blowing.

Unlike his older friend, he was always the fastest and never tired of running. It was his life. He ran away, it was simply what the Doctor knew best. That and using his brain. He hated violence. The mere idea of violence made him want to be sick. It was disgusting, much like his old hatred for carrot juice. It still make him squeamish just thinking about the orangey liquid composed of the terra-vegtable.

Skidding down the hill as he spotted the Master's figure coming to a stop the Doctor rushed forward like a lion on the hunt and being the klutz he was, he ended rolling down the hill head over heels before catching the man in his arms.

"Eh, easy now. See was that so bad hmmm?" he said in a soft gentle voice. He didn't want to scare his old friend away. Besides, what was the need to run anymore?

Die in peace.

The words made him freeze and think back to there last encounter when he though he had died in his arms. How wrong he was. The Doctor shook his head fighting the tears that were forming. "I can't, let you do that. I can't let you die again. Not ever."

He held him, half rocking the fragile Time Lord and half hugging him. He loved him, he still did. He always had, he just couldn't bare the idea of the two of them separated. Sure, they both had their differences, different mind sets but the Doctor wanted to do what he was best at. He wanted to fix things between them, make it better and mend their broken friendship.

"Kill you? Me, naw, never. I wouldn't hurt a fly-- OK maybe I would... well, yeah probably did... point is your not gonna die today. I just want us to be friends again. Like the old days."

[The Master]

Karma, it apparently had a way of catching up to people and that included Time Lords. Here he was, one of the last of his kind cowering and wanting to die. The thought of payback for all his crimes was a frightening thing and death would be preferred. But it appeared that he was to have neither… at least not now.

He trembled slightly as he heard someone fall and then he felt the familiar warmth of the Doctor around him. In the Doctors arms he remembered vividly the last time he had been in this position. That had been bad, but he had made the choice. He had chosen death over staying the prisoner of the Doctor. The rest of his life spent with a sanctimonious do gooder. A shiver ran up his spine. It was an unhappy prospect. He felt confused, dejected, angry, and the drums pounding their endless rhythms within his mind did nothing to ease the suffering or end the madness.

But even more vivid then this memory of death was the last time he had seen his old friend. The Lord President, it was all his fault, everything. The endless torment that he had been forced to live with all of his life. Parts of what had happened during that time were like a half remembered dream. He had felt such rage and he had gotten his revenge but at a cost. He had even saved the Doctor and the Doctors precious Earth. Better to leave the planet to his once friend then to the man who had destroyed his entire life.

“Still there, nothing can stop it,” he muttered. “Not even death will put an end to it.” He opened his eyes wearily and looked up at the Doctor. So tired, tired of running, of fighting, of the endless pounding within his head. He had hoped that it would have ended with the destruction of the link between himself and the return of Gallifrey. But those hopes had been destroyed along with so many other desires.

“Why?” The Master asked simply. “So much time, so much… and too little.” He whispered thinking back at all the conflict they had both been through. He had tried to destroy the Doctor so many times and sometimes it seemed almost a game. In the instant that he had sacrificed himself to save the planet that the Doctor held so dear the Master had felt much in the way of regret. But he was also practical. He had been a plotting evil destroyer, a cause of pain and suffering, one who thought nothing of the lives of his victims, and his playthings. He knew that he would never be able to change that. Not completely, not ever.

The Master would have been lying if he had said that the thought of repairing the friendship they had shared once upon a time didn’t intrigue him. But he felt so lost, so alone, and so far from the boy he had once been. “The old days, before…” before his sanity had been compromised for the survival of one man and his ego, He thought.

“You can’t trust me, you know that? You never will. I can’t even trust me.”