Title: Tear in Your Hand
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Ten.5
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: NC-17
Table: 4, 10_hurt_comfort
Prompt: 8, Tears
Author's Note: The human version of the Doctor is being referred to as John Smith in this fic, since it's the Doctor's human alias and his clone needed a name.
Author's Note: Spoilers for Journey's End, somewhat. This is an completely alternate take on the ending of Season Four.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor, or his human clone. Please do not sue.

***


"He doesn't love you, you know," the Master murmured into Jamie's ear as he circled his captive. "He only cares about you because you're an ego stroke to him. You pump up his vanity because you look like him. He's created a mirror image of himself."

"No," Jamie whispered, struggling to hold back his tears. "You're wrong. The Doctor loves me. He has from the first moment he saw me." He flexed his wrists in the leather cuffs that held his arms above his head, trying to bring some feeling back into his hands.

How long had he been here? It felt like forever; he had no way of counting the hours, of telling what time it could possibly be. All he knew was that he'd been taken sometime during the night, from the room that he and the Doctor had been staying in on a pleasure planet.

When had the Doctor realized that he was gone? Jamie was fairly sure that the Time Lord would have known right away that something was wrong; their emotional bond would have told him that his lover was in distress, if he had been conscious.

He knew that the Master hadn't harmed the Doctor; he'd gleaned at least that small bit of information from what his captor had said. He hadn't even seen the Doctor, as far as Jamie knew. He'd sent his thugs to render the Time Lord unconscious and capture his lover.

This was what the Doctor had feared for so long -- and, to be honest, Jamie had been terrified of it happening, as well. He might not have experienced the Master's enmity in his own body before, but he knew what it would be like from the Doctor's memories.

Now, their worst fears had come to pass; there was no telling what the Master would do to him, though Jamie was fairly sure of what was going to come, considering that he had been stripped naked and his hands bound above his head.

The Master was behind him now, his hands moving down Jamie's sides to rest on his hips. "Exactly like him -- but human," he murmured, his breath hot against the nape of Jamie's neck. "It's going to feel odd to fuck his body, but only feel one heart beating."

Jamie swallowed hard at those words; he'd known what was going to happen to him, but there had been a small spark of hope in the back of his mind that the Master wouldn't go that route, that he would only taunt without actually taking action.

But he should have known better than to hope for such a thing. The renegade Time Lord was already running his hands down Jamie's back, over the curve of his hips, one fingertip trailing down the cleft of his ass. Jamie couldn't keep back a shudder of revulsion.

"You're revolted by this, aren't you?" the Master whispered, his voice hissing in Jamie's ear. "You don't want me to touch you. I'm sure the Doctor doesn't want that, either. No, he wants to keep his lovely little vanity piece all to himself."

Jamie didn't answer; he wasn't going to let himself be pushed into betraying anything of what the Doctor might think or feel by the Master's taunts. He would try to keep silent, no matter what this madman did to him. He wouldn't give this maniac any hint of his lover's feelings.

He winced as one finger entered him, pushing inside him with a suddenness that almost made him gasp. He was able to keep the sound back, but a soft chuckle from the Master told him that the other man knew of his inner reaction to the invasion.

That finger was quickly joined by a second; Jamie had to hold his breath, tensing his muscles and trying to fight the insidious pleasure that being entered gave him. But tightening his muscles only made the tingle of pleasure turn into pain, as he quickly realized.

"You're deliciously tight," the Master whispered, leaning close to Jamie and nipping at his earlobe. "Just like the Doctor. You're exactly like him, aren't you? Except for the regrettably human body. Which means that you're much more fragile than he is."

Jamie kept quiet, knowing that what the Master said was true. He didn't want to admit that he was so fragile, but he couldn't deny it; his human body wouldn't bounce back and heal the way that the Doctor's Time Lord body could.

After a few moments, those probing fingers slid out of him, and Jamie breathed a sigh of relief. He could hear the soft rasping sound of a zipper being opened, then the rustle of fabric as the Master shed his clothes. His muscles tensed further, trying to prepare for what was going to happen.

But there was no way that he could have prepared himself, either mentally or physically, from the sudden assault on his body. Jamie cried out as the Master thrust into him with no warning, his hips jerking forward, a shudder going through his thin body.

He couldn't hold back his tears as the Master thrust into him again and again; the words that were poured into his ear hurt almost as much as the physical brutality. "He doesn't love you. He only wants you to enhance his own vanity."

That insidious whisper wound itself around Jamie's brain; no matter how much he tried to tune out the words, he knew that they would echo in his mind for the rest of his life. And after a while, they would probably sound like the truth.

No. He wouldn't listen. He wouldn't, he wouldn't, he wouldn't! Jamie tried desperately to block out that voice, those words, to concentrate on the physical pain he was feeling rather than the emotional pain those words caused.

"He'll tire of you sooner than you think," the Master went on, his voice growing husky as his desire mounted. "And then, where will you be? You'll have no one to turn to when he's thrown you away -- no one but me. I'll still want you -- but only because you're so like him."

Every few words were punctuated with a sharp thrust; the Master had by this time reached around Jamie to grasp his cock, stroking his erection in time with his thrusting. Jamie could feel his orgasm uncoiling within his body, threatening to wash over him at any moment.

"So much like him," the Master continued, that soft whisper becoming more of a hiss as he, too, neared his climax. "But yet, not him. And you'll be punished for that. Over and over again. I'll make sure of it. You can never be what either of us needs."

With a soft cry of protest, Jamie felt his orgasm burst over his body; his muscles spasmed, his slender form trembling in the circle of the Master's arms. Within moments, he felt the warm rush of the Master's release, though the other man continued to thrust into him.

"He needs you to be exactly like he is -- because he loves himself, not you," he Master whispered, the fingers of one hand tightening in Jamie's hair and pulling his head back. "He'll never love you. Not nearly as much as he loves himself. And deep down, you know it."

He wanted to scream out in protest, to deny every word that came from the Master's mouth -- but there was already a seed of doubt growing within him. Could those words possibly be true? Did the Doctor only want him as a mirror for his own vanity?

The Master moved his hand to Jamie's face, making a pretense of wiping away his tears. That hand pressed over his mouth for a moment; he could taste the saltiness of his own tears, almost as though the Master was rubbing salt into the emotional wounds he'd caused.

The Master pulled out of him with a soft laugh, leaving Jamie to slump in his bonds, his wrists straining against the leather cuffs. He struggled to stay conscious, but within seconds, black spots danced before his eyes and he was pulled into a merciful oblivion.

** ** ** ** **


Consciousness returned slowly, and along with it, a pounding headache. Jamie wanted to open his eyes, but he didn't dare; he had no idea where he was, and he didn't want to discover that he was somehow still in the Master's clutches.

The words that the renegade Time Lord had said still cut into his heart; he'd never be able to forget them, though he tried to push them to the back of his mind and lock them away. Had they been true? He didn't want to believe them, but a part of him couldn't help but do so.

He couldn't just lie here without knowing where he was; he had to open his eyes. Cautiously, he did so, blinking as the room spun around him for a few moments before regaining its balance. With a relieved sigh, he recognized his bedroom on the Tardis.

Jamie's gaze moved around the room, to focus on the man sitting quietly on the bed beside him, holding his hand. The Doctor was here; he'd obviously found Jamie and brought him to safety. He was lying in their bed, safe on the Tardis -- safe with his Doctor.

But was he really safe? Could those words that still rang in his ears have had at least a grain of truth in them? How could he know what the Doctor really felt for him? He couldn't just ask; he'd never be sure if he was hearing the truth or not.

His eyes filled with tears at the thought; he turned his head to the side, hoping that the Time Lord hadn't seen him cry. The last thing he wanted was for his lover to know of the doubts and fears that were going to build in his mind until he forced himself to confront the Doctor with them.

The Doctor reached out to turn Jamie's face back to his, to wipe the tears from his cheeks. Jamie's breath caught in his throat as the other man touched his face; for a moment, it seemed as though the Time Lord was catching those tears in his hand, holding them close to him.

Just as he held Jamie's single human heart in the palm of his hand. That thought only brought fresh tears; he was hopelessly in love with this man, but now he wasn't sure at all of the Doctor's feelings for him. That seed of doubt was already growing.

Jamie reached for the Doctor's hand, holding it against his cheek, trying to calm himself. Those words had been lies; they had to be. But he knew that until he told the Doctor what had been said, that doubt would keep bringing him to tears, until there were none left for him to cry.

***

Next story in series - Without Your Love.