Of course he didn't accept. The Doctor had expected that, but he had to say it, needed to. The Master deserved that much. "I know," he admitted softly. He always knew. They'd danced around each other from the beginning, just about, from childhood friends to ancient enemies. And it always ended the same way. It was tiring, and he was tired. They both were.

"But you are brilliant. You know you are," came the reply. "And I can help you. You know I can, so let me! We're all we've got. We're all that's left of that old world." And looking at the Master's condition, a secret and shameful part of the Doctor wondered if maybe that wasn't for the best sometimes, not that he'd ever admit it.

A flash of lightning (oh, he should have known that was coming), and the fez was gone. "Oi!" the Doctor complained. "That was a fez. Fezzes are cool."