Author's Note: Very, very angsty. It's the first part of my drabble series following the Doctor through the first season (9th Doctor). This takes place directly before the episode 'Rose'. The series will get lighter, just like the season did, but this one is not so much.
Disclaimer: I know, I know. We could all recite one of these without thinking, but it still must be done. I don't own Doctor Who. I'm just borrowing the characters for the strict purpose of fanatical enjoyment. I have no life, what else am I supposed to do?
Number 1 in the Ashes to Ashes Series
Inferno
The Doctor stared at the console of his TARDIS, unseeing. He had done it. God help him, he had ended it all.
He closed his eyes, only to open them yet again, unable to bear the images flashing behind his lids. Gallifrey burning, Romana screaming at him to end the bloody war that raged throughout time, to end her, the Time Lords screaming in his mind as their world turned to ash around them.
The Daleks, descending upon his beautiful world, their metal bodies staining the orange sky in a torrent of war and bloodshed.
The Doctor took a shuddering breath, tears streaming down his face, the TARDIS's gentle hum lending little comfort now, echoing hollowly through his mind where once and ageless planet once took residence. But it was gone now, along with her equally ageless people, forever lost to the sands of time. All gone, burned into ashes by his own hand.
The Destroyer of Worlds. Never had that name rung so clearly. The Oncoming Storm.
Killer of his own people.
He let out a strangled sob, slumping to the floor, cowering under the console, cowering from the images invading his fragmented mind. The TARDIS hummed soothingly, her worry evident, comforting him the best she could. But there was nothing she could do, nothing anyone could do to erase what he had done. Nothing to fill that hollow gap left In the universe where his people had once stood proud.
He screamed, lashing out, banging his fists on her console in fury and anguish. Why had he survived?! Why did he, of all people, survive the inferno that had engulfed Gallifrey?!
The TARDIS suddenly started her engines, her ancient engines groaning out the materialization sequence. The Doctor glared at the time rotor, not caring where she brought them, not caring about anything but his own grief. But the reprimanding hum she sent made him look away, guilt at his own selfishness overtaking his grief. Of course she would be equally as grief-stricken, she too would have felt that horrible, ripping sensation as their planet burning beneath them. She was right too, he couldn't stay here, hiding forever. He would never forgive himself, never be able to fully cope with the loss, but standing here doing nothing only served to sully the Time Lord's sacrifice.
He dragged himself over to the monitor, noticing immediately the strange signal that definitely did not belong on Earth, London, 2005.
He sighed, grabbing his battered leather jacket and made his way to the door. The TARDIS had already opened it, obviously her way of gently kicking him out. He made a rude gesture towards the console, not liking her summary dismissal of him, and received a painful shock from the rail his other hand rested casually. He snatched his hand away, swearing, and pointedly ignored her angry hum.
With a weary sigh he walked out into the bright sunlight, blinking slightly from the intensity of it. He would go on, as always, because there was nothing else for him to do, no way he could lock himself away. The universe still needed a Time Lord, as broken as he was, and besides, he mused, striding purposefully away from the innocently parked blue box, he owed it to the Time Lords. And maybe he'd learn to forget, at least for a little while, the screams of his people.
Swiftly walking down the street, he followed the direction he knew the signal was coming form.
And In his mind, Gallifrey burned.
