The Doctor's shot tore through him, almost stopped the bullet before it got to the Master. His back arched with the sudden pain, searing white-hot heat behind his eyes and then the warmth of blood seeping out slowly through the layers of fabric. His eyes cleared, intelligence came back briefly, and he saw death in the eyes of the man under him.
He made a choked, disgusted sound at the sight, and at the awareness that he was wearing some of that man's blood, that their blood was mingling and used all the stregth he could gather to push up and roll away.
He could hear the Master, his Master, and when he hit the ground on his side he finished the roll, half on his stomach, one knee up, face shielded with one arm, and just. Stopped. Not dead, almost incapable of breathing as his lungs collapsed, and he just didn't have the energy to fight for it.
And if he was crying, it was well and truly hidden.