He laughed, painfully, at that, thinking of what the Doctor had taken away from him, his own plans, his genuine hard work, laid to waste. Abandoned time and again by the cowardly hypocrite. Taking away his home, his origins, leaving him stranded, awash in the universe.

The Doctor is the thief. Not me.

"You know nothing," he said, quietly, suddenly tired.

Rose's head dropped and he strode toward her quickly before he could think it through.

"No, no, no. No. You can't sleep." The Master attempted to push her upright, his hands on her shoulders.