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The Master looks up at the myriadof Police Box TARDISes moving through Gallifrey's stratosphere. Of course, he thinks. Of course everything he knew since the Time War was a lie; of course it's the Doctor that saves Gallifrey, after all. Maybe, when the Master was younger, it would have made him furious. Sneer at just how very fitting it was. The Doctor, the Doctor, the Doctor. Always the Doctor.Always on his infinite quest to save people. Always trying to “save” the Master. It was sickening.


Right now, while the Master hides away from Rassilon, he finds himself unusually pleased. If the Doctor is truly saving Gallifrey, that means that the Master will continue living for awhile longer, as long as he continues to evade the enraged Lord President, and as long as his personal energy doesn't cave in and destroy itself. He simply needs to last long enough for the freeze to overtake the planet.


The Doctor's given the Master another chance, and he probably doesn't even know it. All his desperate attempts to save the Master, and now that he's finally done something of real value, he doesn't have a clue. It's fitting, the Master thinks with a laugh, until his energy ripples away from him, biting into the air, and his laugh collapses into a cringe of pain.


Daleks, corrupt Time Lords, and the Master. They'll wait until the Doctor no doubt returns to find them, frozen in time. The Master opens his arms and welcomes the freeze. “I trust you won't give up, Doctor,” he murmurs. “I'll be waiting.”