HOME | DD

Description
He was half asleep when he heard a noise just outside and willed it away. Another sound. With an inward sigh, he opened his eyes and looked around. Then blinked.

"What do you want?" He demanded, voice apparently sounding far harsher than he meant when she flinched slightly. He felt bad for it; it wasn't her fault.

She trembled, hands clasped in front of her, eyes trained on the floor. "I...I don't know..." Her voice was soft, almost lost in the room. "I shouldn't be here..."

And she was gone. He thought of trying to call out to her, but decided against it. If she wasn't supposed to be there, letting people know she was wouldn't end well.

With a slight frown, and all traces of sleep cast away, concentrated. The resetting of the network was almost completed, it wouldn't be long now.

---

She was back the next day, at almost the same time. Still stood in the same rigid posture, close enough to be heard - barely - but far enough to flee in case of trouble.

"Can you help me?" She asked after standing there, silent, for over twenty minutes. Her eyes flicked upwards for an instant. "Please?"

Aware that, in a moment, she could be running away, he kept his voice just as quiet. "What's wrong, Lucy?" He had a feeling he knew the answer.

She shifted. "Harry." The word was a sigh, and a frown tugged at her lips. "No. The Master."

He nodded and motioned her closer. After much hesitation, she complied, moving to stand just outside the tent set up on the floor.

"Can you help me?" She repeated.

"You must tell me what he's done first." He wanted to help. But without knowing how much damage had been done, there was nothing he could do.

She opened her mouth to respond, but her eyes glazed over and she stiffened. "Nothing. He is the perfect husband."

She was still shaking as she walked, almost calmly, back out.

---

The Doctor was worried when he didn't see her, or even hear the Master mention her, at all the next week. He hoped she was alright, or as alright as situations would allow.

Then she was back, the only differences being teary eyes and a slightly determined look to her.

"He's changed so much." She muttered, and he wasn't sure if the comment was directed at him or not. "Harry was so kind, so wonderful. The Master...." She stopped, looking at him with wide eyes. Pleading eyes. "I still love him. I do, and I did, and I always will. But...I can't..."

Nodding, he stared off into a place she couldn't have seen if she'd tried. "I know."

He did.

---

It was several of these meetings later that he hesitantly pushed whatever trust she had of him as far as it could go.

"Let me see." He whispered urgently. "Lucy, if you let me in for just a moment...I need to see how far he's gone, what he's going to try. Please?"

She frowned at him, shivering as she had months ago. "But he...it always...hurts when he does it..."

He gave her a smile he had perfected over the eons, one that said that no matter how many monsters were outside the door they were no match for him. "I won't hurt you, Lucy. Ever."

It took more than that, of course, before she agreed, but she did.

Her mind was...not broken, not completely. But it was close, fractured in many places, some warped long before the Master arrived. Held together with little more than hope and bits of string. But at the same time that it was cracked, it was also beautiful in the glow of strength and trust and love; under any other circumstances, he would never hesitate in asking her to join him.

But time had not let this happen.

---

It was almost time.

She was close to tears, frightened yet resolute. He held her hand in his, offering what support he could.

"I won't let him hurt you any more, Lucy," he told her with all the force he could gather, eyes flickering to the bruise on her cheek. "I promise."

She nodded, but didn't look at him. She'd been inside his head as well, that once.

The Master would always come back again.

---

She knelt on the ground glaring up at the man who had been her husband as he reformed, the glow almost blinding but she refused to look away.

The Doctor had promised. So had so many others, all through her life. She should have known better.

She was far brighter than most would give her credit for.

The Master smirked down at her. Once, she would have been frightened. Once, she would have gone obediently to his side.

Not any more.

Besides, she thought as she clutched the little vial tighter, the moment had been prepared for.