standsonhigh | There's nothing here but what here's mine.

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psl: barty

There's nothing here but what here's mine.

This wasn't, exactly, how he had planned his return. He had expected to be on home turf, a place he understood and wanted to be. Surrounded by worshippers and already plotting. Not here with some strange man using the power he gave specifically to his followers to bring him back. The books of Saxon weren't meant to be public knowledge, they were his private notes, and yet this man decided to drag him into a world he didn't want to be in.

The Master always had a funny feeling that magic wasn't something he should of ever tried to toy with because as it stood, he didn't like where this was going. It defied the logic he knew.

Voldemort was a strange creature, a very unpleasant one at that. He looked sickly and his eyes were red like an albino. Still, he didn't say much on it, he'd looked worse himself and damages were just a sign of ambition and desire. It always took everything out of you, especially with humans.

The drums were raging in his head as he followed Voldemort into this meeting he'd decided to attend. He'd only been back a few days and already he seemed to of captured the imagination of this tiny little creature who was all but eager to introduce him.

An ancient ruler from another reality must of been interesting.

He didn't walk behind Voldemort, he kept in step, not willing to seem a lesser. Hey, the dark lord brought him here. If he was going to play with this merry band of psychopaths, he wanted to seem equal.

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At the question, Barty forced his face into neutrality immediately, which actually worked, too. He had always had a certain talent for acting and he had plenty of reason to further develop it.

"You will." It was answered with certainty, but that was definitely an act too. The only sign was the grip tightening around his wand. He'd rather not have the Master's attention on him while Dementors were just a few feet away. He knew him just well enough to realize that this could very easily turn out very badly. "I'm not scared."

"You're not scared?" the Master asked, his arms dropping as he moved closer to Barty, clearly not buying this. Leaning over, he came up close and shook his head in disbelief, whispering in his ear. "How can you not be scared of them? Faith in me? Or have you worked over your little issues and are no longer terrified of them? Because time was, you would beg to be away from them. Desperate sobs and needy pleas to be away from them. Fancy begging now just to leave the room, huh?"

While he spoke, he watched the panicked men that remained scamper about. One flew at the forcefield, desperately banging against it, crying out the Master's name and trying to get some forgiveness. He simply looked at the man and shook his head slowly. He didn't forgive traitors. well, not most of them.

"You told me I shouldn't be scared. What choice to I have but obeying?"

Barty remembered his pleas, remembered screaming, remembered sobbing, crying for hours on end. He remembered doing it for what seemed like half a lifetime, even though it hadn't even been long, not even for his lifespan. He had gone very stiff with the Master behind him like that, unsure of how he should act. Clearly the Master wanted him to be afraid, but if he showed fear, it was likely to just egg him on more. If he didn't show it, that might just make him more determined still. Damned if you do, damned if you don't.

"I won't leave the room without you, Master." He stared at the man, because looking at the despair was easier than watching the Dementors at work. "And I never fancy begging."

"You have to face your fears, Barty, you can't just tremble in the background," the Master mocked playfully, wrapping an arm around Barty's shoulders. And, like that, he began to walk his loyal servant towards the barrier. For all he knew, it was completely sealed. But the moment the Master touched it, it was bound to fall. He had programmed it to respond to him and close if he ever needed to reach out to it.

It was always wise to have a safe guard should anything go wrong.

As he moved Barty closer to the forcefield, he made sure Barty was as close to it as possible to a nearby dementor sucking the life out of some poor worm. Then, with a smirk, he touched the forcefield. And like that, it disappeared rather noticeably. And the dementors flew over their heads, feeling that horrible feeling linger behind. "I don't think we need that anymore! I mean, you're not scared, I'm not scared. We'll be just fine. And like you said, no leaving till I leave."

Barty didn't want to go any closer. Not with the way the Master was hinting. But the other choice would be to essentially get manhandled there, so he did walk and hated every moment of it.

He wasn't even surprised when the forcefield vanished, but the shock to his system still left him frozen, left him shaking. He closed his eyes as if that would help any, but it just seemed to make things worth. Swallowing sickly he weighed his chances, though clear thinking was definitely getting harder under these circumstances.

"Please, Master. Can we go?" Worth a try, he reckoned. Pleading and everything.

The Master gripped Barty closer and tighter, pulling him in almost protectively as the dementors took down the last of the Death Eaters. One stray man got free, racing towards the Master crying out for mercy but he was soon swept away, screaming in a way that was unpleasant even to the Master. Too loud, too annoying. He didn't like it.

"It's okay. Barty, look how fine you are. No ones going to hurt you."

It was so condescending, unable not to be when he could feel the poor bastard tremble beside him. He seriously had to learn to conquer these things, didn't he? Otherwise he'd always be terrified. And who needed fear when you could conquer them like this? "Besides, what's the worst that can happen?"

Barty lifted his wand at the man, changing what spell he was going for at the last moment. He silenced him instead of killing him, then watched as he silently kept screaming. He lowered his arm again, so the Master could grip him any way he wanted and shrugged.

"They could think I'm next." That was pretty bad on being the worst that could happen. He knew spells that could ward them off, but none that could defeat them. Well, he knew them, in theory, he just couldn't cast them. Not his kind of magic.

He steeled himself as best he could, because he didn't want to give the Master his fear to feast on. Not that different from the Dementors in some aspects. He'd know, he could be that way, too.

"Well, I think that's a very strong possibility. They're looking for victims, they feed on fear. And you reek of it," the Master remarked and then, suddenly, his arm was gone entirely and he was moving back fast, leaving Barty alone with them. "And I just don't think I need that sort of thing near me. Death is only funny when I'm doing it."

And, with that, he let Barty stand alone in the dementor pit. And held out a little device that he'd had in his pocket, waggling it at Barty. The remote to the forcefields he'd shown him earlier when setting this trap up.

"Don't worry, Barty, I'll be fine. If they get out of hand, I'll just put the barriers up again," It was a silent threat, a clear challenge that fear was what he wanted and resisting would only make this escalate. "But you're not scared so I imagine you won't mind, will you?"

It never hurt to keep his servants on their toes.

"Incendio!" It wasn't, remarkably enough, the first time that Barty heard the surreal noises a Dementor made while on fire. He didn't enjoy it any more than he had then, either. He didn't lower his wand this time, looking around for any other that'd dare to come closer.

Fighting he could do. Only the Master didn't want him to fight. He knew that, too. What the Master wanted was, naturally, the thing Barty wanted to do least of all. Give in to the fear, let it overwhelm him, let himself become weak and terrified. He'd not be let out without that. The Master wasn't watching to see him overcome the fear, whatever he said. So there was little Barty could do but stall. Nothing he could do to control the situation.

But at least he could pretend that he had any control with it. So he took his wand and turned to face the Master, sending him a very dark glare before throwing his wand at him, so it landed on the floor just a feet or two away.

"As you say, Master." With that he turned back again, defenseless this time, and not surprised to see them coming closer already. To feel the fear closing up his throat. To have his mind taken over, images pulled up and taken from him that he couldn't even remember. He stepped back, but just once, before falling to his knees, arms around himself. Silent, at least, for now. As if that would keep them from him.

The Master was hit with a strange moment indeed. Because while he did love to see Barty struck by fear, part of him also wanted to see these creatures defeated by his new friend, to be finished off once and for all. Maybe he could actually do it, if he wanted to? Now there was an impressive thought. He stood aside, watching Barty, wanting for him to keep fighting now. To win.

But instead, the wand was thrown over and he gave in, like a faithful soldier following orders. Like a good servant, actually. There was a level of anger to his surrender but it truly was a loyal move. Pathetic and wrong. But beautiful at the same time, what the Master had always wanted.

Or what he thought he wanted. He never could make up his mind, the drums wanted something different to what he actually wanted.

Before the dementors could come closer, the Master grabbed the back of Barty's jacket and roughly yanked him away from them, sending him sprawl back as the barrier shot up and the creature remained uselessly unable to act on them.

The Master kicked Barty's wand back to him, not taking his eyes off the monsters that lurked around his trap. "You could of fended them off longer than that. But you didn't. Why? Did you give up or did you simply not want to disappoint me? Or maybe you just knew I'd come to save you."

Barty picked his wand up on instinct, some training never quite left him, even though it was still difficult to think past the fear. His eyes were on the Dementors, just in case, ready to fend them off now if he had to. But even while part of his mind was in fighting mode, he laughed and wrapped a free arm around the Master, leaned against him without waiting to be held this time.

The laugh wasn't quite right, breathless and close to sobbing, just as his words were chopped off when he spoke, eloquence obviously coming a lot easier to him. "I played your game, Master. As you wished." He shrugged and turned his head, finally looking away from the creatures of his nightmares, burying his face against the Master's neck. "But I always play to win."

He hugged him as tight as he could, hating that he was still terrified, but thrilled at the same time, crazed with the thought of knowing the Master well enough to realize what could end this fastest.

The noise Barty made was like music, it just hit him in the right way. So desperate and hysterical, with an edge of broken happiness. The Master embraced him right away, pulling him in closely and letting him hide away from the big scary monsters. He'd never felt someone shake like this, it was hilarious and brilliant. Why couldn't the Doctor ever tremble in his arms and make noises like that for him?

"You're such a clever man, aren't you?" the Master said, this time not mocking, actually meaning it. Because he knew what to do now, he passed the final loyalty test. Because he understood that as long as he had faith, the Master would help him. Well, while he had an interest.

With a smirk, he turned his head to watch the dementors, knowing they'd give up and leave through the top window eventually. When the field went up, the window popped open. Very clever away of not having to deal with them properly himself.

"I think you're ready now, prepared for what we have to do. Isn't that good news?"

"I try," Barty said with modesty that was obviously false even through a voice that was still close to just hiccuping from fear. He kept hiding, because he could, because he was allowing himself to relax a little, because he was actually allowing himself to feel safe. But perhaps only for the moment.

Good news? Now, that sounded worrisome. "What do we have to do?" He let go of the Master, just a little, arm still around him, but he wanted to watch his face. "What do we have to do, Master?"

"Nothing you have to worry about," the Master remarked as he slung his arm around Barty once more and lead him away from the sea of lifeless bodies and the marauding dementors. "We're just going to expand a little, branch out into new lands and move away from this magical lark."

He wanted go home, to be somewhere he understood. And now he knew he could trust Barty properly, he was willing to drag him along. If he wanted to see a few new worlds, at least. But then, what ape didn't? The Doctor already proved it, humans were easy to drag off anywhere.

"Wouldn't you like to see beyond this universe?"

Barty let himself be led away, and gladly, definitely of little mind to so much as look back. He let the Master hold him, glad to finally find himself calming down. His body, too. Although the Master's words brought on a whole new kind of excitement, that promise of a different universe, of things beyond this. He'd been thinking of it for a long time now, ever since he'd decided to let himself be the Master's.

So naturally he nodded, eyes a little wide. Excitement. In the end, he was still so very young. And emotionally strained enough to be close to giddiness now. "Yes, Master. I'd love to."

Sometimes he forgot how young Barty was, he looked so much like the Doctor that he almost believed he was older. But he was just a boy really, no more than twenty, he hand't lived. To offer him the world or more was probably the most exciting thing in his tiny uninteresting life. So he forgave the excited bouncing, taking it with good humour.

It was adorable, really, like a happy puppy. "That's my plan. I'll let you in, just because you're so very good to me. But that's the end goal here, I'm going home. And you can come with me, if you want. The whole of time and space to see and to own."

"Home?" Gallifrey, he almost asked, but he knew better than to do that. He had gotten this far by knowing when to talk and when to shut up and he wasn't about to endanger that. "I want to." In case there was any doubt. He had decided that he was done with this place the moment he had decided to become attached to the Master.

"How will we get there?" He had no doubt in the Master's ability to own. Too much faith, maybe, but he doubted that.

"I need a portal to my reality," the Master explained with a shrug, knowing it sounded easy but it really wasn't that simple. "Trouble is, I need something to tether one and bring it about. I need something that exists here that's existed there that isn't like, you know, me. I hardly need to get sucked into something unpredictable. Been there, done that, nearly died."

He'd been so many different universes in his time, he didn't want to run the risk of being spat out in the wrong one with only Barty for company. "Perhaps the books? They were made in my universe? I don't know. I will work it out, I was hoping I could use magic as an asset to locate the right one but so far, it's been useless."

Because, mostly, the Master can't work magic. At all.

So far it's been useless, huh? Barty didn't say a thing to that, not even touching the statement with a ten-foot pole. The question was just how to diplomatically offer his own services without implying that whatever the Master had tried was probably about as effective as waving his arm around aimlessly. Potentially it had also been literally the same thing.

"Perhaps I can help. I have some experience with ritual magic." He smirked. "I helped getting you here, too. Which is very romantic, if you want to think of it that way."

Oh suggesting he needed help? Funny. Wrong but funny. He didn't need help, he could do it by science alone, he just thought that magic was an interesting thing that could of helped out. Clearly, he couldn't of been more wrong. He barely understood it and he couldn't really do much out of curses that caused pain.

So, when Barty suggested it, while he wanted to shoot him down rather firmly... well, he gauged his odds then reluctantly shrugged. "Maybe you can help. But if we get to a new universe together, I do expect some sort of reward. And flowers. Maybe chocolates, depending on the mood."

"You may have flowers and my nubile body. Can't promise chocolates until I find out how to procure those in a different universe." Which made him realize that he didn't know whether his magic would still be there if they went to another universe, but now he didn't want to risk asking. The Master was definitely already none too happy about the offered help, so Barty decided not to ask too many more questions. Better to bring the good mood back.

"Please don't do it again." Even if it meant giving up on dignity for a while. "The Dementors."

"Fine, I'll bargain with that. But I will expect chocolates one day or another," the Master insisted as he slipped his hands in his pockets not, letting go of his connections to Barty for now. When the request was brought up, the Master quirked an eyebrow but didn't say anything for a while. Just to let Barty think he was considering it.

Truth was, he wouldn't do it again. Not unless Barty pissed him off. "Be a good boy and I won't. Personally I think we've conquered your fears, for now, so we can at least guarantee that won't happen for a long time now."

"As you wish, Master." Barty smirked, right back in the excited and good mood now with that promise. Well, close to promise, anyway. Together with the dream of going somewhere else, leaving this place with all the issues it had brought on for him over the years behind him.

He ran his hands through his hair, not caring if he made it stick up, but he needed to do something and the Master had withdrawn his hands. "I'm going to be a very good boy. By your standards."

"I bet you will," the Master remarked, happy to be away from that room and heading back to his place. He supposed he was lucky he was very close, the hall wasn't far away from the place Voldemort had gotten him and that was the best place to mass kill those Death Eater idiots. "You're usually very good."

As they headed outside, the Master rolled his neck around and took a deep breath of the fresh air, needing it to clear his head a little. Then, he turned his head, looking at Barty with a curious expression. "Are you scared of me, Barty? Just wondering."

"No." The answer came pretty immediate, but then Barty frowned as he tried to think about it, tried to word it right. "I'm scared of how you could destroy me if you wanted to. But I have faith that you won't. So, no. Not really."

He wet his lips with his tongue, looking at the Master thoughtfully. "Would you want me to be scared?" He actually wasn't quite sure of the answer there. He still wasn't sure about his own answer.

There's nothing here but what here's mine.

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