I struggle desperately against my ties. Like Wilf, I have been bound to a chair by my ankles and chest, more rope securing my wrists together in front of me. They chafe my skin with every movement.

Watching helplessly as the Doctor is strapped to a padded frame. The black fabric digs into his forehead, forcing him to remain still. "Please," he begs. "Please, you don't have to—"

"And that's quite enough of that." The Master pulls one final strap across, covering his mouth.

I kick against the chair but fail to do any damage with my ankles roped so tightly to it. "Get away from him. I swear to Gods, if you even touch him, I will end you."

The threat only brightens his grin. He coos, "That I'd like to see. If you want to kill me, there's a whole planet to get through. Who knows, maybe we can set up a little ring. We already know you're a great source of entertainment."

"You leave her alone!" Wilf snaps.

My chair shakes with another aggressive attempt to get free. Unsuccessful yet again, I dare to form a smirk, hoping to provoke him. "Try me. I'd take you down in seconds and you know it. I bet you're still afraid of me. I bet you already know these ropes won't hold me forever, and when I get out, I will kill you."

"Of course," he muses, appearing unbothered, "that is unless I kill you first. I could do it right now."

This time, the Doctor strains against his bonds. The gag muffles his pleading.

Chuckling, his old friend leans in, putting on a high-pitched voice, "Oh, no, not my wife! Anyone but my wife!" He pretends to think it over. "Well, there aren't many other options, are there, Doc? Don't act so surprised. Of course I know about it, UNIT really should have better security for their files. Although, honestly, I'll admit, I am a little wounded you didn't invite me to the wedding."

The Doctor tries to speak again but nothing comes through his gag, just a series of agitated sounds. Jabbing a thumb in his direction, the Master beams at me. "These things are brilliant! Can't understand a word." He then leans towards him and declares in a stage whisper, "You know, I would've given her one, too — aww, you could match! Wouldn't that be adorable? — but, you see... I just can't wait to see your face when I make her scream for mercy."

More shouts only amuse him further and he laughs, "See? Just doesn't sound right. As your dearest friend, I only want you to have the fullest, most genuine experience of it. I mean, unlike you, she only gets to die once."

Seeing him approach me again, I struggle, turning my head away. He brushes some hair out of my face. Drawing up my remaining strength, I spit in his face. "Don't touch me."

But my voice breaks, betraying me. Wiping his cheek, he sighs. "Still as fiery as ever." His voice drops to a quiet, disturbingly soft taunt, "Tell me, Inara, are you still afraid of the dark?"

I can't come up with a witty response this time. Fear grips me at his proximity and I try to turn away again. Without warning, he roughly grabs my face, forcing me to look at him. Gasping, I try to pull free. "P-Please."

He doesn't need to ask what I mean, or goad me further. The moment of weakness is enough for him. Rubbing his hands together, he paces back across the room. "Now, then. I've got a planet to run. Is everybody ready?"

A screen pops up on the wall with one of his many duplicates. "Six billion, seven hundred and twenty-seven million, nine hundred and forty-nine thousand, three hundred and thirty-eight versions of us awaiting orders."

"This is Washington. As President of the United States, I can transfer all the United Nations protocols to you immediately, putting you in charge of all the Earth's defences."

"UNIT HQ, Geneva reporting. All under your command, sir."

"And this is the Central Military Commission here in Beijing, sir. With over 2.5 million soldiers, sir."

He glows with pride at every confirmation. "Enough soldiers and weapons to turn this planet into a warship. Nothing to say, Doctor? What's that? Pardon? Sorry?"

"You let him go, you swine," Wilf speaks up.

He groans, "Your dad's sill kicking up a fuss."

"Yeah? Well, I'd be proud if I was!"

Eyes narrowing, he brings a finger to his lips. "Hush, now. Listen to your Master."

Taking the opportunity, I start trying to undo the knots around my hands. A shrill ringing makes me freeze. We look around at each other anxiously.

"That's a mobile."

Wilf chuckles nervously. "Yeah, it's mine. Let me turn it off."

"No, no, no. I don't think you understand. Everybody on this planet is me. And I'm not phoning you, so who the hell is that?"

Flinching as the man starts to search his pockets, he weakly protests, "It's nobody. Probably one of them ring-back calls."

Instead of the phone, the Master digs into the inside pocket of his jacket and produces a pistol. "Oh, and look at this. Good man!" I had seen the weapon before and don't even try to appear surprised by it. The Doctor frowns down at it, his disappointment clear. The Master squints at the caller ID. "'Donna'. Who's Donna?"

"She's no one, just leave it."

He answers anyway. From here, I can just hear the terror in her voice. "Gramps... don't hang up, you've got to help me. I ran out but everyone was changing."

Glaring suspiciously around at us, he snaps, "Who is she? Why didn't she change?"

Finding his gaze on me, I say nothing. Wilf takes a shaky breath. "Well, it was this thing the Doctor did. He did it to her. The Metacrisis."

"Ugh. He loves playing with Earth girls. No offence, love."

I keep trying at the knots, almost done with the first one, ignoring the cramps shooting through my arms from their strained angle. "She doesn't know anything. She can't help you."

"And I'm supposed to believe that? Find her, trace the call," he barks at one of his duplicates.

"Are you still there? Can you hear me?"

Holding the phone up to Wilf's ear, he jeers, "Say goodbye to the freak, Grandad."

"Donna, get out of there! Just get out of there, I'm telling you, run!"

"She's on Wessex Lane, Chiswick. Open the phone lines. Everyone on Wessex Lane, red alert."

There isn't much time left, I have to get out. There are still guards watching us so I must be cautious. Slowly, I rock back onto the back legs of my chair, just enough to start wiggling my ankles, coaxing the rope to slide a little lower. It takes time but I manage to slip the bonds on my right ankle off the end of the chair leg. I subtly kick the rope out of sight and try on the other ankle.

She cries out again, "What do I do?"

"Run, sweetheart! That's all. Run for your life."

I keep up my efforts. Across the room, the Doctor's eyes meet mine. His are wide. He shakes his head slightly, enough for me to understand. He doesn't want me to free myself yet, it's too risky. I don't stop.

The line has gone quiet. Wilf panics. "Donna? What's happening? Are you still there? Look, I'm telling you, run, Donna! Just run, sweetheart. Just run."

"It's not just them. I can see those things again... those creatures. W-Why can I see a giant wasp?"

I want nothing more than to call out to her, to offer some reassurance, but it's a risk even now. I can't add to the memories. Meeting Wilf's fearful gaze I mouth a warning not to say anything about it. "Donna, don't think about that," he says instead. "Donna, my love... don't!"

"It hurts! My head. It keeps getting hotter. And hotter. And hotter. And hotter!"

She screams. The line goes dead.

"What was that? Donna? Donna, are you there? Donna!"

Horror stricken, I look to the Doctor, only to see his smile behind the gag. He matches the furious glare of the Master with a wink. The gag is ripped off. "That's better. Hello!" he chirps, beaming back at his adversary. "But really, did you think I'd leave my best friend without a defence mechanism?"

Heaving a sigh of relief, I laugh. Wilf stares between us in bewilderment. "Doctor? What happened?"

"She's all right, she's fine, I promise. She'll just sleep."

The Master leans in, whispering menacingly, "Tell me, where's your Tardis?"

"You could be so wonderful."

That same feeling of dislike hits. I know that he means it, it isn't just a ploy to distract him. I need to get out of these ties quickly so I can end this once and for all. "Where is it?" he asks.

"You're a genius. You're stone-cold brilliant. You are, I swear, you really are... but you could be so much more. You could be beautiful. With a mind like that, we could travel the stars. It would be my honour. Because you don't need to own the universe, just see it. To have the privilege of seeing the whole of time and space... that's ownership enough."

Biting my tongue, I pick away at the last few knots, my feet free but pushed against the chair to maintain a pretence. I falter at the Master's next words. "Would it stop, then? The noise in my head?"

He nods as best he can. "I can help."

"I don't know what I'd be without that noise."

"Wonder what I'd be," he softly replies, "without you."

A quiet falls. I can't help but wonder how different it would be, too. I'm sure I would be quite a different person if that year had never happened. There was still so much growing up I had to do back then, so much to learn about the universe. His torture shaped me to be who I am today but one thing is for sure — I would rather be half of who I am than suffer all that trauma just to reach this point. It only solidifies my decision, I have to kill him.

"What does he mean?" Wilf asks nervously, glancing to me for answers. "What 'noise'?"

I almost think I see tears when the Master turns to us, swallowing thickly. "It began on Gallifrey, as children. Not that you'd call it childhood. More a life of... duty. Eight years old, I was taken for initiation, to stare into the Untempered Schism."

"What does that mean?"

"It's a gap in the fabric of reality," the Doctor explains, painfully quiet. "You can see into the Time Vortex itself. And it hurts."

"They took me there. In the dark. I looked into time, old man. And I heard it. Calling to me. Drums. The never-ending drums. Listen to it. Listen."

Our eyes meet. Despite the fear that still lingers, I nod. "I can hear it."

Something akin to hope flickers across his face. "You can?"

I clench my jaw, scoffing, "Of course I can. You made me, remember? You— You infected me with it."

At my hostile tone, the Doctor warns me off with just a look. He tries a gentler approach. "Let's find it. You and me."

He seems almost convinced. Then he stands, uplifted by some great realisation. "Unless— Wait a minute. Oh, yes. Oh, that's good."

"What? What is?"

"The noise exists within my head, and now within six billion heads. Everyone on Earth can hear it. Imagine! Oh, yes!" He laughs, louder and louder. That skeletal appearance takes over him for just a second and he doubles over, gasping in pain.

The Doctor watches him in pity. "The Gate wasn't enough. You're still dying."

"This body was born out of death. All it can do is die." All of a sudden, he jumps to his feet. "But what did you say to me, back in the wasteland? You said, 'the end of time'."

"I said something is returning. I was shown a prophecy. That's why I need your help."

"What if I'm part of it?" he gasps excitedly.

Almost done with the knots around my wrists, I look up sharply at his words. "Doctor, you can't be serious!"

"He can help," he tries.

"'Help'? The word 'help' isn't even in his bloody vocabulary. He's using you! He just wants information out of you so he can hurt us all."

But the Master continues, ignoring me, desperate to prove himself. "Don't you see? The drumbeat is calling from so far away. From the end of Time itself. And now it's been amplified six billion times. Triangulate all those signals. I could find its source! Oh, Doctor. That's what your prophecy was — me!" In an instant, his ecstatic expression vanishes and he strikes the Doctor across the face. "Where's the Tardis?"

I huff impatiently nudging the gun towards me with my foot. "I told you. He's a lost cause."

"No," he begs. "Just stop. Just think."

"Kill him." The one armed guard in the room with us aims his gun at Wilf. I tense but don't react yet. "I need that technology, Doctor. Tell me where it is, or the old man is dead."

"Don't tell him."

"I'll kill him right now, and then your precious Inara!"

I shrug off the rope around my chest and grab the pistol from the floor. The guard and I stare each other down. But I see something through his dark visor, something that changes my aim to the Master instead. I stand and point the weapon right at his face. Finally, my hand is steady, my voice smooth and calm as ever. "Ropes? Really? You were better off strapping me to that thing instead of the Doctor. 'Cause I have changed. Last time we met, it was all threats."

He quirks an eyebrow. "Was it?"

"Let's see, shall we? How about..."

I turn the safety off. "Three."

I press the barrel against his head. "Two."

My finger flexes against the trigger. I stare into his eyes and he stares right back, willing me to flinch, appealing to any shred of humanity. But I am not human. I have never been human. I know what has to be done, I know because I've lived through the damage he inflicts when allowed to survive. Not this time. He can't survive this time.

"One—"

"Actually, the most impressive thing about you is that after all this time, you're still bone-dead stupid."

We both spare the Doctor a glance. Staring down the barrel again, he smirks, "Take aim." The guard turns his gun from me to Wilf. "Even if you do shoot me, which I doubt, your friend will be killed instantly."

I push against him a little harder, cooing cruelly. "I think you're starting to bruise. I can fix that, you know? Darling, make your point now or I'm finishing this."

He takes the challenge, his words hastening. "You've got six billion pairs of eyes, but you still can't see the obvious, can you?"

"Like what?"

"That guard is one inch too tall."

Frowning, he turns his head just in time for the butt of the guard's gun to smack him right in the face. He collapses, unconscious. Pulling the helmet off of his spiked head, the Vinvocci scientist gasps. "Oh my God, I hit him. I've never hit anyone in my life."

The door flies open and Addams hurries in. "Well, come on. We need to get out of here, fast."

I don't move, my aim not faltering. Seeing her start to undo his restraints, Wilf cheers, "God bless the cactuses!"

"That's cacti," the Doctor corrects.

"That's racist."

"Come on! We've got to get out."

The scientist struggles to free the Doctor, running around the chair in search of an easy release. "I can't, there's too many buckles and straps."

"Just wheel him!"

The others race out of the room. Pausing, Wilf returns, gently wrapping an arm around me, coaxing the gun out of my hand. "Come on, love. Not now. We need to go."

Reluctantly, I agree. I put the safety back on and slip it into my waistband, jogging to catch up with the others. The Doctor still protests to his mode of escape as they wheel him along the corridors. "No, no, no. The other way. I've got my Tardis."

"I know what I'm doing!" Addams shouts, running ahead of us.

"No, just— just listen to me. Oh, no. No, no. Not the stairs. Not the stairs!" We rush down into the basement, his chair rattling harshly with each step, accompanied by grunts of pain. "Worst... rescue...ever."

Glancing around at the equipment, I approach Addams with an expectant look. "I'm assuming you have an actual plan to get us out?"

"Of course I have an 'actual plan'. What does that mean?"

"Just stop and listen to me!" the Doctor shouts again, just as several armed guards enter the basement lab behind us, followed by the Master.

Their guns aim at us and I point mine right back. He grins. "Gotcha."

"You think so?" She hits a button strapped to her wrist.

——————

I blink, looking around at my new surroundings. We have been transported to the teleport bay of an unfamiliar spacecraft. Immediately, I turn on Addams. "I almost had him!"

The Doctor wriggles and kicks feebly. "Get me out of this thing!"

"Don't say thanks, will you?" she huffs.

"He's not gonna let us go. Just hurry up and get me out!"

Rolling my eyes, I put the gun back into my trousers and start to undo his bonds. The strap has left red marks across his forehead and I rub it affectionately, hesitating when I see the way he looks at me — wary, almost distrusting. It hurts me more than I want to let on. Undoing the last buckle, I clear my throat and step back. "You're welcome."

He doesn't say a word, shoving past us to get to the main controls. They burst with sparks in reaction to his sonic, blocking the Master from following us. "Where's your flight deck?"

Sharing a confused look with her partner, Addams insists, "But we're safe. We're a hundred thousand miles above the Earth."

"And he's got every single missile on the planet ready to fire."

Stunned, she opens and closes her mouth a few times in attempts to argue. "Good point."

With that, the two Vinvocci run out of the room. The Doctor and I follow, soon doubling back when we realise that Wilf has fallen behind. He stands at a window in the teleport bay, staring out at the planet below. Careful not to startle him, we each wrap an arm around him and guide him away. "B-But we're in space," he squeaks.

"Yup."

Jumping down the few metal steps leading down to the flight deck, the Doctor joins them at the controls. "We've got to close it down!"

"No chance, mate, we're going home."

I groan loudly, hands on my hips as I watch them frantically prime the ship for departure. "Are you kidding me? Seriously, you're just gonna run away, tails between your legs?"

"No tails," Addams quips, "we're just a salvage team. Local politics has got nothing to do with us, not unless there's a carnival. Sooner we get back to Vinvocci space the better."

The Doctor tears his gaze away from the main window to the darkness beyond, aiming his sonic at the consoles. "You're not leaving."

I sidestep another shower of sparks, watching the lights die around us as the power fails. "Oh, that's just fantastic. Is that your big idea, kill us all? The missiles will just—" My tirade stops short. Pausing, I take a deep breath. We've gone dark, hiding from the planet's radar systems. The missiles can't hit us if they can't see us. "Ah."

"Ah," he echoes. "Caught on yet, love?"

"Oi, don't get cocky." Even our usual teasing has grown half-hearted, weighed on by the day.

He hushes us all. With all the power gone, all we have to light the ship is the glow of the distant sun. A faint grinding can be heard as the engines come to a halt. We're floating freely.

Forcing myself to keep breathing deeply, I trudge over to a corner of the ship and take a seat on the floor. My head rests against the wall, too tired to hold itself up. Inhale, exhale, over and over. Eyes shut. One palm pressed over my heart. The gun digs into my hip in a constant reminder of what I almost did.

Back at the consoles, the Vinvocci shuffle around, trying to assess the damage. Addams peers out of the window. "No sign of any missiles. No sign of...