Mementote Quae Fecerit Fuisti Ali
Don't own because Whouffle is not canon.

xXx

Is there a song with the lyrics 'Everything I do, I do for you?' Because, Oswinald, that is how I'm feeling. And I don't mind you annoying me at all, I'm glad you liked my story (glares at people that didn't review). Don't bother Google-translating the title. There'll be a friendly alien to tell you later on. Dedicated to aforementioned Oswinald.

xXx

"Doctor, I blame you entirely for this!" Clara shouted as she was tugged down the silver corridor towards the TARDIS by her curly-haired, alien friend.

The Doctor just gave a carefree laugh, and increased her pace as the Plasmavores began to catch up with them. Clara did the same, not wanting to be left behind- she'd died via Plasmavore bite before, and it was one of the worst ways to exit life. Something went whizzing by her ear just as the Doctor pulled open the TARDIS doors, ushering Clara inside before slamming them shut and leaning against them. Clara went over to the railing and mimicked the Doctor's position.

"Take us away, dear." the Doctor said in satisfaction, a smile on her face. Clara couldn't help but smile back- she'd gotten used to the Doctor's new form, and, to be honest, she actually preferred it. The female Doctor was a lot more cheerful, a bit funnier, seemed more human and didn't wear a bow-tie. Actually, she wore completely fashionable clothes- she'd ditched the trench coat and had opted for a brown leather jacket instead. Admittedly, she still ate cheese-chocolate, but it wasn't too bad.

However, her smile turned into a worried frown when the Doctor flinched, turned pale- though pale is relative, as she was rather tanned- and reached around the back of her neck to pull out a dart. She, being the Doctor, brought it up to her mouth and touched her tongue to it, cautiously. She immediately pulled a face, and Clara giggled (though she'd firmly deny it later).

"You know, for a time-lady with 27 brains, you aren't very good with the whole 'don't lick things' part of personal hygiene. What was on there anyway?" she asked.

"The mementote quae fecerit fuisti ali." the Doctor said, discarding the dart before putting her hands together as if in prayer and bringing her finger-tips up to her mouth.

"Shouldn't the Snog-Box be translating that?" Clara asked. The space-and-time-ship had always seemed to have something against her, though, according to the Doctor, it was 'nothing personal', she just 'doesn't like that you've been in my life longer than she has.' Which, to Clara, seemed like a rubbish reason to bully someone. But mind you, Clara was human, not a trans-dimensional being that took the form of a biggish blue box.

"Well, yes. Probably. Maybe. It roughly translates to 'Remember what you once were.' It's a drug." the Doctor said, closing her eyes.

Remember what you once were? That didn't seem like something you would stab your enemies with. In fact, it seemed more like something that would help you.

"So... what does it do?" Clara asked her alien friend.

"Well, first it puts you into a coma. Then it makes sure nothing will wake you up- it'll last for about eight hours, by the way- then, it makes you re-live the parts of your life that you have forgotten, provides a brief over-view of the parts you remember, and then lingers for a while on the things you'd rather forget. But not too long- they found that that sometimes made them go insane. But that will only last for about six or so hours." the Doctor said mildly, as if it was of no concern.

Clara frowned. "What about the other two?"

The Doctor, still with her hands pressed together and eyes shut, answered her in a lofty tone, "Then I'll be stuck in my mind-scape, battling my internal demons."

"Oh, yes!" the Doctor said suddenly, her eyes flying open. "I'll probably need to go to my room during this. I did mention the coma, didn't I?"

Clara nodded, unsure of what to say. This could end very, very badly.

oOo

Don't touch me. That was what the Doctor had said, just before she fell asleep. That was about six and a half hours ago. Five hours ago, she'd started tossing and turning. Three hours ago, she'd started taking shaky breaths, as if holding back tears. She'd calmed down around the four hour mark, but she'd been openly distressed for the past thirty minutes. Clara thought that this had to be more distressing than whatever was happening to the Doctor. The brunette had drunk around twenty cups of tea since the curly-haired girl had gone under but it wasn't helping much.

The Doctor's bedroom was amazing, though. The lower parts of the dome were golden, and the colour shimmered and swirled and darkened as they made their way up towards the ceiling, which was a blue-black and scattered with stars and nebulas. The carpet was bright red and bouncy, and the bedspread was a night sky. The door had an enormous silver tree painted on it. Clara would spend most of her time in here, if she had the choice. But the room was bare, excluding the bed, and the Doctor had seemed surprised it was still the same.

The Time-Lady had left her with a set of instructions before the drug had taken it's toll. Don't touch me was the first. At Clara's asking why, the Doctor had prattled off something like psychic and mental barriers, leaving Clara more confused than she had been at the start. Don't annoy the TARDIS was the second. That would be difficult. Third was Don't tinker with the controls, and forth was Don't panic, and something about Arthur Dent. There was no five- that was replaced with a warning. When I wake up, I will be scared. I'll probably have forgotten who you are at that point, so don't be annoyed or irritated.

A tearful cry brought Clara out of her musings, and she looked down at the Doctor to see a fresh onslaught of tears pour down her abnormally pale cheeks. Her normally bronze-tanned skin was almost white, and her ordinarily olive and freckled face was wet and blotchy. Clara was sure that, had the Doctor's eyes been open, they would be a bright green that would contrast with the red rims. She was shaking, and seemed feverish and small, lying on the starry bedspread. Forgetting what the Doctor had warned her of, she reached out to brush them away and she began falling.

oOo

"Romana! Romana!" shouted a blonde-haired boy with chocolate brown eyes. "I caught Koschei!" He couldn't have been older than five, and was wearing a blue robe.

"Yeah Thete!" said a red-haired girl excitedly. "We win!" she gave a whoop, and hi-fived the blonde boy, who had fallen back into the red grass.

"No he didn't!" insisted a black haired boy, with eyes that mirrored his robe. He ran over to the blonde boy, and looked over him, arms folded. "You cheat! You didn't catch me!"

The blonde, 'Thete', laughed, and grabbed the black haired boys leg, pulling him down. The boy fell onto him, and they started rolling down the hill, the red-head running after them, giggling. They slowed at the bottom of the hill and-

A tall man was pacing in front of 'Thete', muttering under his breath. The blonde was older now, around twenty, and they seemed to be arguing.

"Father, it wasn't my-"

"Don't you say that to me! Everything is your fault! How dare you- how dare you mess with the laws of time!" the taller man shouted.

"They were going to die! If I hadn't saved them-"

"You wouldn't be going to court! You break all the rules, all the time! You're a waste! A perfectly good loom, wasted on your..." the tall man searched for words, "worthlessness!"

'Thete' was trying not to cry, but he wasn't far of it, Clara could tell. "But- Father, they were going to die!"

"That's what people do! They die! You- you think you can save them?!" the tall man grinned, a cruel, harsh smile. "You do. You think you can save them all. You idiot" he gave a laugh. "You fool. You can't even save yourself, you piece of filth."

'Thete' flinched at every word as if it was a physical blow.

"Get out, Theta Sigma. You're not welcome here. You call yourself a Lungbarrow." the tall man laughed again, a cruel sound. "You're not even worth a Fellicent."

'Theta Sigma', the blonde, looked on the verge of tears, then he straightened up, and stormed out of the room. The tall man walked over to-

"- he kicked me out, Koschei!" the blonde said, pacing around the darkened room. "He kicked me out and took my name!"

The black-haired boy from before, Koschei, flinched. "But, Theta, that's the only proper name you have." he pointed out.

"You think I don't know!? You think I don't know that, Kosh!?" Theta shouted. "I know what this means! They've been talking about it for decades, kicking me out. I looked it up as soon as they mentioned it at the academy, it means I'm nothing! I graduate, and then I'm nothing! I'm just a name, just 'The Doctor'. And what'll we be? What will I have?" Theta was crying, and Koschei stood up and embraced his friend.

"We'll be us." said Koschei gently. "You'll have me."

"Al- always?" Theta sniffled.

"Always." Koschei confirmed. He kissed the blonde's forehead, then-

A whirlwind of colours, shapes, images. A brunette with a posh accent "Doctor who?" - An old man in a white TARDIS "Goodbye Susan" - An insane-looking man with curly hair and a ridiculously long scarf "Do I have that right?" - A posh man in a red robe "You are either the saviour or destroyer of us, Doctor." - a planet on fire, the orange suns exploding and the red grass withering, and a golden shimmer dancing across it meaning it was trapped, untouchable – a man with gravity-defying brown hair, kneeling in front of a man with short bleach-blonde, looking up at him with a distraught expression "What happened to always, Kosh? What happened to us?" a cold expression, then an insane smile "We grew up." - A rotten, one-eyed half machine "I name you, Doctor, Destroyer of Worlds!" - Rassilon and his Father, standing there, in front of him, staring at him as if he was a stranger -

A multitude of thoughts, crying out for someone to find her/him, free her/him, because she/he wasn't quite sure who she/he as anymore, and who was this in her mind, watching the things that were there, and curiosity-

A place of nothingness and everything with a shadow, a nameless, terrible thing that couldn't be held or reasoned with, and she/he was standing in front of it, the only barrier between It and the universe, the final wall of what used to be a maze of thoughts and voices protecting the universe from It. The people she/he used to protect her/himself shattered, her/his crutches knocked down, the final barrier all that remained, and It would always win. And the battle went on.

There were tears and screams and a world on fire. Children playing and laughing before being outcast into the nothingness. A game of chess that is never won, a battle never ceased, a fight never ending, immortal beings that forever die, all-powerful people trapped behind an imaginary wall, and the shadow that watched it all, made it all, only held back by the Angel that Aspires to be Human, she/he.

But the Angel grew tired and weary as the walls came tumbling around her/him, and the shadow grew stronger with her/his pain as the worlds burned and the children were outcast. Time watched as her champion battled the terror inside, the nameless thing, and she gave her/him the outcast children to help build the imaginary wall and save her/him when she/he lost a piece in the game or the battle.

And the Impossible Girl watched the battle, the game, the immortal beings that forever died, all-powerful yet held back by invisible walls try to regain control. She watched the children of time build the walls and the worlds burn. And she grew tired. She called a name into the nothingness and the everything. A name that meant healer and wise being all throughout the universe. And she/he looked towards her, pausing the game, taking a break in the battle, calling a time out in the fight. And the shadow tried to break down the wall, but Time helped the children hold her/him in place so that the Impossible Girl and the Angel could converse.

The Impossible Girl spoke, her voice flowing on the winds of the nothingness and the everything. Don't give up. You have to win this, she told the lonely Angel, and he/she smiled. I shall never win, she/he called back. I can only hinder it's escape. But I shan't give up, she/he said, her voice ringing through the nothingness and everything, Just for you, I won't give up. And the Impossible Girl smiled also, and she/he went back to holding up her wall, and the game, battle, fight continued.

The battle would span all of time, the Angel knew, but still she/he fought, determined not to let the shadow escape the game. And then the nothingness and everything faded, and the wind of the mind-scape ceased, the Impossible Girl returned to the box, and the mad-woman/man would soon follow.

And though she/he left, the battle would continue, the game would remain unwon and the fight would not pause.

oOo

Clara awoke with a start, and couldn't help but muse over how often she seemed to wake up like that these days. However, unlike the other times she had awoken with a start, she was on the floor. She looked up to see the Doctor grinning at her, an amused grin on her still-pale face.

"Enjoy your nap?" the Time-Lady said in an amused tone, and Clara pouted and folded her arms.

"Well, it's not my fault you didn't follow the rules." the Doctor pointed out, which did nothing to help Clara's mood. Which was, contrary to how she looked, rather scared for her alien friend.

"Is that what it's like in your head?" Clara asked suddenly, standing up to sit down next to the Doctor on the bed. The Doctor pulled a face and nodded, once, quickly.

Clara decided to leave the topic there. And, not to miss a chance to embarrass the Doctor, she used the following statement as a conversation changer.

"You were cute as a kid."

The Doctor immediately gave a laugh, and nodded again. But the giggles soon turned to coughs that had Clara in a panic. But they soon died down, leaving her friend even paler than she was before.

"So, ginger tea?" the Doctor suggested in a weak voice, "and cheese-chocolate?"

Clara laughed. "You and your cheese-chocolate." The best medicine, her mother had always told her, was tea, chocolate and laughter. And who was Clara to argue?

The Doctor gave a winning smile. "You wouldn't have me any other way."

And admittedly, Clara wouldn't. But she couldn't help but remember the she/he in the nothingness and everything, fighting the shadow in a never-ending battle, a game she/he couldn't possibly win, and her face fell.

The Doctor seemed to notice this, though, and took Clara's hand in her slightly colder one. "I told you I wouldn't give up, yeah?" Clara nodded. "Since when have I given up on anything before? I'm probably the only person in the universe that hasn't given up on making turkey in a time machine." Clara laughed at that, and the Doctor smiled.

"Good to see that grin of yours." She stood up and raced out the door, moving surprisingly fast for a drugged person, calling out behind her, "Beat you to the kitchen!"

And just because Clara didn't move as fast, doesn't mean it was her fault that she didn't stop the Doctor spilling tea on the console and sending them to an alternate universe where Sherlock Holmes was real, and, apparently, living in the twenty-first century. But that's another story.

xXx

No, seriously, I'm considering writing a Doctor Who/Sherlock crossover, which will in fact be titled Another Story. Would anyone actually read that if I wrote it? Anyone? Oswinald? Would you read it? How did you like this, by the way? I actually got the idea off of Though the Truth May Vary by PhoenixDragonDreamer, though hers is much better. Search for it. Now. Well, I say idea. More, I wrote it and then it reminded me of hers so I just thought, hey, what the heck! Let's just mention hers so that even if anyone does review saying I stole the idea I can say, well, I mentioned it, so what are you complaining about? Obviously you didn't read the authors note. deep sigh Yeah, I'm good. OMG THERE'S SEVEN PAGES IN THIS ONE-SHOT WHOOP! Though it is size thirteen... and in Open Sans. Sorry.

Ta-ta (for now)!
LoS