The revolver was smoking. The smoke scattered the golden-red from the evening sun, and it shone almost fantastically. The tiny particulates of gunpowder glistened silver in a gaze of golden smoke. The gun was warm, and so was the barrel. The hand holding it trembled seconds after the smoke dissipated a bit, as though in slow realization about what the smoke meant. About what he had done.
His hand trembled enough that he lost grip over the revolver as it fell down, suspending a cloud of red dust into the air as it crashed. The trembling of the hand went on to spread to the rest of the body, and he felt his control over his body slip away like a leaking pipe.
He had one rule. And he broke it.
Trying to maintain balance, he tried walking backwards in order to get his center of gravity under control. But his brain was completely ruined - it had encountered a situation that shouldn't quite make sense, but it happened nevertheless. The contradiction sent his brain into overdrive. His attempt to regain his balance failed, and he fell backward on the red sands of Arizona.
He fell only a couple of feet away from the dead body, the blood seeping from the back of his cerebellum blending into the red soils of the Grand Canyon. The sun finally set, the red sand, the Grand Canyon - everything was sending danger signals to his mind - but yet his mind ignored it. He lost control of his mind.
The Doctor had killed a man.
A/N : If you hadn't realized already, this was my first attempt at writing a drabble. I hope you guys like it. Please review!
(And yes, there is more to this story than meets the eye).