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The fam was stood in the TARDIS’ control room. The Doctor was pacing.
Graham was leaning against a railing, a cup of hot tea held tight in his hands as his eyes followed the Doctor’s movements. It was the first thing he did once everything was done and wrapped up - insisted it, said he needed it.
Honestly, a cupno b of tea was probably the least harmful thing you could opt for to smooth things over right now, all considered.
They were all still dressed in their party outfits, though some were.. considerably more worn, torn, dusted from the day’s affairs.
The fam was used to long days with the Doctor.. But GOD, did today feel like a long day.
And they were all still thinking about it. It didn’t take anyone uttering it for it to just be known - they weren’t thinking about MI6, or the almost-invasion of the Kasaavin, or everything with Daniel Barton…
No…
True to form, the only thing clinging to each person’s mind was The Master.
Enemy to the Doctor. ‘Best enemy’.
Yet…
How long had they been travelling with her, to never hear but a peep about this man? How long did it take for him to attempt on their lives as SOON as the mask slipped?
“Aye, Doc?” Graham’s voice broke the silence.
Her head lifted up, eyes quickly settling on his, though her pacing only stilled for but a moment.
“About that, uh..” Graham looked to Ryan and Yaz, then back to her. “About that bloke from MI6-”
“C!” The Doctor interjected, clapping her hands together. “Good guy, C.” She pulled a face, tilting her head. “…Well. - Oh, but he was good at putting a team together. …Well-”
Graham took a long drink from his cup of tea. “…Doc, you’re ramblin’.”
Intentionally. She knew, clear as day, he hadn’t meant C.
Not that it was new to them, her skirting around the topic as soon as it drifted back to herself and her own personal details, but…
This time… Just maybe…
Yaz hesitated, a sigh breaking loose on her lips. “...Doctor, that… guy, whoever he was, the Master? We need to know who he is. He tried to kill us.”
The Doctor’s lips twitched uncomfortably, like a joke that even she didn’t think was funny. “..Yes, well, he sorta does that.”
Yaz’s lips firmed. “…And who is he?”
“He’s— …Well, he’s sort of a-” She was pacing again. The Doctor breathed out, pushing her hand down her face. She was frustrated, at herself - like she was trying to tell them, but it wasn’t as easing doing as it was wanting.
“We go way back.” She said finally. “Waaayy back. Waayyyy back. Before most of these countries even knew what they wanted to be!” The Doctor said, gesturing more exaggeratedly the longer she went on. “And honestly, they did take a while! You lot. But it was great watching you grow. The FOOD you lot came up with sometimes!”
The Doctor blew out a breath, lips curling to a grin. “Brilliant. Wouldn’t have found it on any other planet! Ohh, we should really go back there sometime. Haven’t done much time-travelling for sight-seeing, have we??
Well we have, but it sorta goes all… wrong. Forget that. Clean slate! Clean slate for the fam! Sight-seeing next time. Swear on it.”
It was a flurry of words. It came out at rapid speed, this projectile vomit of words.
If there was one thing their Doctor was damn good at, it was talking until the original topic had long since drowned underneath and the new topic had been wrenched in its place without anyone even realising until long after the fact.
Her pacing had picked up sometime during this flurry, gesturing this way and that. The Doctor patted her hand once, twice, on the console’s edge. “Next time, we pop out for a trip! Somewhere in the past? Sound fun?” She chirped, looking excitedly at each of her companions.
Ryan, for his part, was just struggling to keep up. “Uh, Doctor-”
She snapped her fingers. “OH! Right you are, Ryan!” The Doctor swatted her hand against her head. “I’ve gotta jot this all down! The Kasaavin.” She took a swirling step around to waltz off deeper into the TARDIS, then stilled. She pouted, making a low noise. “Hate paperwork... Takes the fun outta seeing something excitin’, when you then have to WRITE about it! Hate writing.”
Then she was off.
It was quiet in the console room.
“…Bloody hell,” Graham slowly began, staring almost in awe at where she’d once been.
“Right,” Ryan huffed out, leaning his hands against the console, “well that was useless.”
Graham made a noise of agreement. Then he took a long, long drink from his tea. Beside him, Yaz rubbed her temple.
It was quiet in the console room.
After what happened today, it didn’t feel like they could just… go on, go back to their own lives like they normally could, generic boring routines, while they waited for the Doctor to pop back with another crazy adventure.
Their lives had been risked before, on adventures with the Doctor - God, better to ask when they HADN’T been - but something about O.. the Master.. just felt so targeted. It left each of them unsettled. Regardless of to which degree they wanted to admit it.
Ryan was looking over the console, as he often did during downtime. It was alien tech, and it was weird. Truthfully he didn’t understand any of what he was looking at, but it was cool to just.. have there, to see.
Sometimes it was a little easy to forget that the Doctor was an alien, when she danced around and ranted just like anyone they’d find in town, but the console thrummed and sang like nothing comparable on this planet.
It was pretty. Even if it was confusing as all hell.
One had to wonder how old this thing was. Older than the Doctor? Younger than the Doctor? Was travelling ALL it could do? Did it keep records, of any sort?
The Doctor sometimes treated the TARDIS like it was ALIVE, as real and living as any of the fam. Maybe it was.
“D’ya bet this thing could give us any answers?” Ryan asked over his shoulder, mostly just wondering aloud. “I mean.. It’s bound to have something. Right? It can take messages, so why not…”
“We’d have to know what to even look for,” Graham chimed in. “And I dunno ‘bout you, mate, but I couldn’t guess what one button on that thing does.”
Ryan sighed in reluctant agreement. “Just wish she’d tell us somethin’,” he said quietly. “Feels like she owes us this much…”
How many times did O - no, the Master - try to kill them in just one day?
“…Well-” Graham took a breath, setting his cup down on the railing. “Guess maybe we could-”
The TARDIS thrums. They all jolt. A colour ripples through each of the pillars, something purple, and everyone sees something from the corner of their eye.
Its a silhouette, flickering and forming before their very eyes.
Graham was suddenly very glad he’d set his cup down, now. His brows furrowed, baffled, but he stepped forward. “Aye?”
“What’s it… like… like, a call from someone?” Ryan tried to guess.
“No…” Yaz murmured, eyes flickering over it, sharpening with observation. “No, that was more like…”
Her words, slow and inquiring as they puzzled out what she was trying to say, shut to a prompt, abrupt close when the flickering finally took shape.
The TARDIS must have heard them, somehow, and decided to aid, they all must’ve thought in the back of their minds. As their eyes focused on…
The Master. Leaning over what was, presumably, a railing. Dressed head to toe.. in the uniform of the time.
“What the hell.” Ryan laughed. It was a deeply uncomfortable laugh. He turned his head, looking to see if the others were seeing the same thing he was. By their startled stares, they definitely were.
“Did I ever apologise for that?” The Master’s voice echoed out, head turning to his left.
“No,” the Doctor’s voice answered.
“Good,” he answered, lips pursing in brief pleasure as he readjusted his leaning position.
“How’s the shoulder?” The Doctor asked, and this time phased into view. She stepped behind and around him, joining the projected scene.
Yaz’s brows shot up in recognition. “- Hey, that’s her suit. This happened today?”
“While we were off dealin’ with Barton,” Ryan guessed, his eyes never trailing once off the holographic scene.
The Master grimaced. His lips twisted, a scowl flickering behind his eyes as he smirked back at the doctor. “Painful,” he practically spat the words out.
“I don’t like what you’re wearing,” she replied, eyes trailing over him. Her expression was sombre, pinched. And she elected to continue past the Master’s immediate eye-roll. “Or the company you keep.”
“- How’ve you managed that?” She asked, straightening up. “You’re not exactly their ‘Aryan archetype’.”
“Tiny.. tectonic.. pyshic.. perception filters.” He tapped his forehead, pausing his short-lived pacing to look at her. “Learned it at school. Lets people see what they want to see.”
“Right…” Graham awkwardly sounded out. “Guess the, uh.. guess the Doc can be serious when she wills it, aye?”
It was sure as hell the most ‘serious’ they’ve ever seen of the woman. Almost to a strange degree, compared to the exchange THEY’D just had with her. And this was all supposed to have happened in the same day?
“How long d’ya think they’ve known each other…?” Yaz found herself mumbling, an unwelcome thought sticking to her as she pressed her fingertips together against her lips.
“Could be just high-school?” Ryan chimed in, a half-hearted attempt to ease a concern he could see brewing. His brows knotted, looking from the Doctor back to the Master.
What did ‘high-school’ even mean to a bunch of aliens, if it WAS just high-school? …How long does an alien even live? How long is ‘school’ when you’re an alien?
“- That was fun,” the Master spat out, a dark energy brewing in his eyes. It pulled the fam’s attention rapidly back.
“And assassinated C?”
“Mandraffian laser rifle. One shot.” A self-pleasured smile curled his features. He walked to her, slow and calm, as if he had as much power here as he did back in the plane. He stopped in front of her. “Still got an eye for it.” His eyes lingered before he walked on.
The three of them grimaced.
Right. That confirms that, then. It wasn’t.. an OVERWHELMING surprise, that the Master had contributed one more drop to today’s bucket than they’d expected, but it was still an unpleasant one.
“…D’ya get the feeling we shouldn’t be hearing this?” Ryan suddenly asked, as the figures of the Doctor and the Master continued their discussion. “I mean… If it was important, she would’ve told us, yeah?”
The silence that answered him was unintentional on their parts, yet confirmed all the same.
She would… Right?
Ryan’s own resolve wore a crack from his own attempt to pull away. He rubbed his neck, averting his eyes while heaving a sigh. “…Shouldn’t even have to do somethin’ stupid like this,” he muttered.
“I mean - you run through time and space, yeah? But you can’t sit down and talk about it after?”
“She’s.. private,” Yaz said.
“Well, she’s definitely that,” Graham said in a light tone, brows lifting.
Everyone had their secrets. They were never going to disparage that. But how far could privacy go, when you were risking your lives on the daily with a woman you barely knew?
She’d met their families. Could they even say with certainty what planet she was from?
“- The Kasaavin are embedded across the whole of this universe,” The Master said, a jolting fact that both pulled them back in, and made their minds slightly spin with the relief of having dealt with the Kasaavin, already, when they were hearing this now. “Spies from another dimension…”
“As I said to Mr. Barton-” The Master gestured, “Think of them as Russia. But bigger.” Again, he smiled. It never stopped being so… unnerving, so unsettling. “Sleeper agents, everywhere. Waiting, to be activated. Amassing information in case they need to attack. And… I mean-”
The Master laughed, dropping his hands and shaking his head. “You know me. I can’t help myself… Have to… stick my oar in.”
The Doctor watched him turn away, with a face more grave than she’d ever worn around her fam. - Than she’d ever LET herself, ever let them see.
“What have you done?”
The scene flickered suddenly. Everyone jolted, Yaz breathing in quickly, and they found themselves glancing aside, wondering if the Doctor had seen their accidental peruse into her memories.
The Master’s voice turned into a glitching drone of words, as his shape morphed unsteadily. They could hear him speaking, but none of it was coming out right. Duplicating, melting over itself with occasional stand-out words that made no sense, separated.
“Uhh..” Ryan stepped back, arms poised as if expecting something to happen. “D’ya think this means.. maybe we weren’t actually s’pposed to-”
“- Of course, ultimately… the KASAAVIN are just the mechanism.”
The Master’s voice practically blared across the control room as the hologram snapped back into place. Graham cursed, loudly, his hand flying to his chest.
“- Christ, mate!” He blurted to no-one.
Ryan tried to chuckle, despite the sweat that’d started creeping up on his forehead. He’d admit that part to no-one if asked.
His head did snap up at the corridor the Doctor waltzed down earlier, though. …Not a peep came back down.
He found his eyes trailing up, at the TARDIS’ core. He’d never thought about the TARDIS ‘communicating’ with them before. Not really. Not to the degree the DOCTOR thinks it does, anyway. But… This kinda felt like the TARDIS wanting them to know something, if there ever was such a thing as ‘the ship trying to tell you something’.
He hoped it was. He’d rather SOMETHING be wanting them to hear this, even if it’s just the TARDIS, than it being them shoving their collective noses into some weird.. sci-fi.. feedback.
“They.. They don’t have my vision. You know?” The Master continued, his face pinched like he was unloading a moment of genuine conflict to the Doctor. One look in his eyes broke that assumption.
The Doctor, of course, could look into his eyes. Maybe that’s why she didn’t humour his expression, like she might’ve anyone else the fam has crossed with in the past.
“And what vision is that?”
His reply was instant. Startlingly so, actually. With an instant force baked into the words, so sure, like if there was nothing else the Master knew, he knew THIS.
“Maximum carnage.”
Ryan breathed out, deeply, pressing his hands against his face. They came away sweaty.
“I don’t understand.”
“No, no, I-I know you don’t,” he replied, a dismissive edge to his voice as he waved her off.
A pause. A breath. And a smirk. A smirk that widens into a grin. “But you will.”
“…And of course,” he continued, eyes staring back into hers, both equally unblinking, “the best thing is… everyone loses except me. Barton and those creatures do the dirty work, and once they’re done I get rid of them,” his lip curled as he continued on, “having destroyed your precious human race in the process.”
“Win, win, win…”
She was still as she looked back at him. No jokes, no pulling at his empathy. Honestly, the discussion had gone on LONG past what any of them expected.
He lied to them, killed the people around them, tried to kill EVERYONE, tried to kill her if that wasn’t enough…
But they were talking. And the Doctor did that - she liked to talk, LOVED it, but it was never… familial. It was never like she knew them, like there was a history beyond counting.
You could almost fall into it. It wasn’t completely helping any of them get a better handle on things.
“Couldn’t just give us a slip of paper with all her basics on it,” Graham all-but huffed.
But it was in the micro-expressions of his face. The Master made him deeply uncomfortable.
This man, just.. talking.. was wiping away all interactions with super-powered beings beyond comprehensions, alien assassins - all of it, any of it.
And they were just watching a MEMORY.
It was a sobering realisation, how short their exchanges with him actually were. Always pulled away by the Doctor, before he could focus too long on her companions.
Was it meant? Did she mean to?
“When does all this stop for you?” The Doctor asked The Master, closing the distance between them in one long stride. Her face was intense. It was wholly unlike her. “The games? The betrayals?” Her lips twitched. Like she was losing herself in something. “The killing?”
“Why would it stop?” The Master mirrored her approach by closing the remaining distance between them. “I mean… How else would I get your attention? …When did you last go home?”
“…What do you mean?”
The Master fixed a long look at the Doctor. Complicated, and beyond their present understanding. He clicked his tongue. “I took a trip home,” he said, turning away and leaning against the railing once more. “To Gallifrey.”
Ryan found himself mouthing the name. One glance to his side showed Yaz was doing the same.
“We ever heard that word?” He asked, though he was fairly sure of the answer already.. If it meant something to the Doctor - well, then it was an unfortunate safe bet they hadn’t heard it before.
Yaz’s brows were knotted, her expression tense and focused. She had no idea. She didn’t like invading, didn’t want to do that to the Doctor - which is exactly what this was. Invading But..
“Hiding in its little bubble universe,” he continued, drawing each word out. “Not sure how to describe what I found. “Pulverised”? “Burned”? “Nuked”? …All of the above.
He hesitated then turned his head, just enough to see her, just enough to see her face. “…Someone destroyed it,” the Master whispered, turning to face her properly. “Our home…”
He breathed in. As if he was processing his own words the same time she was.
He shook his head, temporarily looking away - but only briefly, only for the barest moment did his eyes ever leave her face while he divulged this. “…Razed to the ground. Everyone killed.” His face hardened for a moment. Only a moment. “- Everything burned.”
The Master moved back.
“…You’re lying.”
It was quiet in the control room. Perhaps characteristically so, every new word from this man’s lips drained the tone from the TARDIS in an instant.
Because… What?
They WERE given her home planet, just like they’d always wondered and passively talked about, making random jab guesses at planet titles, but… - What?
When she came back, she never even gave the impression of… You’d never even guess that…
Something in Yaz’s chest hurt, watching the Doctor. In a way she couldn’t quite figure out, in a way that felt slightly different to the conflict cutting across Ryan and Graham’s faces.
Seeing the Doctor figure out whether to believe him, but ultimately scrambling a flat denial all the same - and hoping it didn’t cut the woman as much as she surely thought it would.
“You should really take a look,” The Master quietly replied back. For once, venom and hate missing from a voice, turned oddly soft, emotional.
It reminded them of O.
“- Oh, wait, you.. you won’t be able to,” he continued, moving around the Doctor. “I just thought I’d let you know, before I…”
“Can you hear voices?”
The Master pressed his lips together as he turned his head away. Not the reaction he wanted, apparently. His hand barely graced the railing again before he was pushing himself away.
“- Why are there troops coming up the stairs?!”
He shoved past her, conversation and tentative emotion discarded in a single instant as he shoved past, barrelling into the corridor. His hand planted firmly on the wall, eyes staring down the elevator.
The hologram was starting to flicker again. Almost violently.
“…Might be all this thing’s gonna give us,” Ryan thought, warning them just in case. It was hard to tell, given the past ‘close-calls’.
“- Very good at sending messages. Particularly fake ones, DESIGNED to be intercepted.” The Doctor’s chipper voice cut back in. The way she sounded whenever a plan had finally hit its peak and was about to spill out.
Self-satisfied, but in a way that made you appreciate the work she’d put in, compared to… what the Master expressed when his plans came out. When it came to him, all it did was send an odd chill digging up their spines.
“- Now FINISH what you were saying!” Her chipper voice cracked.
She had been thinking about what they were saying. It wasn’t so quick as a short denial.
Yaz breathed in through her teeth, unhappy to be right. She had to wonder how the Doctor would’ve reacted, instead, if THEY were all here.
…Not the same, she knew, but she wished it would be. Wished the Doctor would just…
He snapped around. So quick, so violent. His boots were thundering back down, a few single strides wiping away all that distance in a moment.
“What have you DONE?!”
A hand grabbed her by the throat and dragged her over the same railing they’d been talking over. Tight, unyielding.
Ryan and Graham jerked back in an instant, eyes blowing wide. Yaz gasped, sharp, so abrupt it hurt her lungs.
Their pulses leapt.
How the HELL did they not know about this? How did they miss that monster grabbing the Doctor by her neck before they all joined back up?
The Doctor was saying something through her teeth, with whatever air she was still managing to take in, and she was smiling. The hologram wasn’t picking up on her words anymore.
The hologram jerked out of shape once, twice, and the lingering image of the Master holding the Doctor over that railing burned away.
It was done.
Whatever else happened, they weren’t going to see.
Leaving them tense, on edge, waiting to see what happened.
Obviously she made it out alive, but.. What else? What else?
Yaz breathed out, surprisingly unsteady. She slowly sat down against the control room’s own railing, pushing her hands down her face slowly in an attempt to self-soothe.
“All that while we were out with Barton?”
“…He sure does get around quick.” Graham was the last to pull his eyes away from where the hologram had once been.
The Master’s yelling still rang in their ears.
Ryan watched Yaz for a moment, then walked over and joined her. “…’s a lot,” he quietly said. She made a noise.
“…So she’s from, uh, Gallifrey?” He continued. His mind was struggling to break past that final sight. But he really, really doubted they were magically going to learn more. So…
“Gallifrey,” Yaz quietly corrected his pronunciation, eyes moving to his. He made his own small noise, nodding his head a little.
“…Alien planet,” he mumbled, wanting to defend his vocal fumble.
“What, preparing your passport?”
His voice. Again?
Anyone that wasn’t already standing suddenly was.
That flickering silhouette was back in the TARDIS, only this time it was staring SQUARELY at them. Not past them, not through them.
The Master was lit in a hue of purple jittering lines, dressed nicely in a suit. His eyes were dark. His lips were curved a mean smile. He looked very, very satisfied.
His eyes travelled slowly over each of them.
“Did you like my little slideshow?” He asked, his brows lifted, lips curving up further. “Took me a minute to.. figure out how to project it, but I knew it’d be worth it. Did you like it?”
Ryan opened his mouth. Nothing came out.
Yaz was staring at him.
“- Hang on,” Graham started, finding his voice while he was speaking. “This thing is supposed to be secure, ain’t it?”
“Hm.” Again, his eyes travelled over them. He breathed out, rolling his shoulders back. “Well,” he chuckled, a breathy short sound, “she’s always liked to.. exaggerate.”
He lifted his brows suddenly, turning his head. “Or.. Maybe I’m just that good. What do you think? Yaz?”
She felt slightly alarmed when he suddenly focused on her. Her jaw tightened, and by his pleased smile he definitely noticed.
“I think you wouldn’t show us all that for no reason,” she answered, tone steeled.
“- Look, what do ya want?” Graham interjected. To divide some of the attention, prevent it solely from being on just her.
That was never a problem to have to be concerned about, back when he was just O.
“Well, maybe I’m checking in. Maybe I want to see who she has THIS time, see how much they really know.” His expression cracked. He really was having just so much fun. He could barely hide it.
“How long have you been going around in her little box?” He asked in a quieter voice, like he was beckoning them to share a secret with him.
“Long enough to know not to talk to snappy blokes talkin’ to us from a screen.”
His eyes narrowed. The Master pursed his lips, gaze darkening as he focused on Graham. “’s that it, then?” His lip twitched up, words quiet. “She raised you stupid,” he laughed, finally. But that dark look didn’t leave. The laughter was hard, coming through teeth.
“- We ain’t pets!”
“No?” He fired back in an instant, brows lifted. “Have you told yourselves that? Have you told her?”
Ryan desperately looked like he wanted to cut in, much like Graham had for Yaz - he also looked just as desperately out of his depth.
The Master was commanding control of a room he wasn’t even IN.
“Becauseee… From where I’m standing,” he pressed his fingertips together, pressing them against his lips thoughtfully in a move that made Yaz suddenly self-conscious, “I’M just surprised none of you are dead yet.”
He couldn’t resist the smile that cut his lips at their reaction. Self-satisfied, appreciating a joke only he knew.
Given him, a joke they probably didn’t even WANT to know.
“Or maybe I ruined the surprise.” He imitated a look of surprise, but the smile didn’t go away. It seemed entirely like he was about to go down this tangent, dig deeper into the sinews, but he abruptly stopped.
He was.. quiet, listening. Whatever it was, they didn’t hear it.
He sighed deeply, disappointed. “Yasmin Khan.” His voice was too sharp, too hard and too sudden as he turned on his feet, finger pointing right at her.
The Master’s voice softened out, almost into a song. “Yaz..”
She had to remind herself not to step back. He’s a HOLOGRAM. A.. loud, aggressive and cocky hologram, but just as immaterial. All he could really do was talk at them.
She had to remind herself this a few more times as he stared her down.
“How much do you know, really, love?” He continued, eyes bearing down into her, enough to make her uncomfortable at the least. The Master shifted, like he was leaning against something. “Enough to… get the hearts pumping?” The Master laughed. “Oh, sorry, sorry!” He waved his hand. “Heart pumping,” he corrected with too much glee. “You’re nothing like she is. Like WE are. Not even an ounce of you can relate, hm…? Just hoping she throws you a scrap one day.”
Yaz’s cheeks were burning. She didn’t fully register it, but it drowned under the other sensations - anger burning under her skin. Because he came in HERE, and now he was… waving his finger, making assumptions and —
The Master clapped his hands together. “At least you’re not the first, huh? Not the first to…” He gestured with his fingers, walking them along, “scurry,” his lips curled, “to demand her attention.”
His expression had twisted, some. “Oh. But, at least they knew the BARE minimum about her.” The Master straightened up, no longer leaning. “Tell me, Yaz, do you know… anything? Anything at all, sweetheart?”
“Alright,” Graham interjected, a little too forcefully. “I think that’s enough of that.”
The Master’s eyes flickered to Graham, briefly, but then immediately returned to Yaz. He was completely uninterested in Graham right now. And O had LONG since left the scene, so he had no problem showing that dismissive action as it was. No more reason to muffle, soften his intentions.
“C’monn, Yaz..” His lip twitched upwards. His voice was soft, like he was trying to beckon a small child. “Don’t even know her species…?”
The Master turned his head suddenly and, immediately, he was GONE.
Footsteps were coming back down one of the TARDIS’ corridors.
The Doctor soon popped her head into the control room. Brows furrowed, her eyes looked over each of them. “…Y’alright, fam?”
Everyone swapped looks, stood tense and stiff next to each other. The control room felt almost deafeningly silent without the Master’s voice carrying through it.
Ryan breathed out, long and hard, shoulders sagging. He mumbled something, running his hands down his face.
“…Think we just, uh… met a…” Yaz trailed slowly, eyes lingering still on where the Master had been.
The Doctor’s face fell at once. She stepped further into the control room, her flowing jacket behind her as she moved over to them. A hand on Yaz’s shoulder, a hand on Ryan’s, leaning in to peer at everyone.
“- What happened?”
No one had said it, but she’d instantly clicked who they’d met. Were they so close that the Doctor just knew the Master like that?
“You’re not hurt, are you? Anyone?”
“Think I need something stronger than tea,” Graham finished.