Disclaimer – All characters and settings are the property of the BBC and I am making no money from their use.
A/N – Three drabbles, set in the last seconds of the Day of the Doctor. The War Doctor, Ten and Eleven. Because I always thought that one ended too soon.
He is glad to die. It's fine, it's safe. Bad Wolf girl promised him so.
There will be a future? He's seen his future; it run away from him.
Gallifrey is still dying. He/ they were never fast enough. They are dying, in torment, now prolonged forever.
Was I right?
He remembers the silent screams in the tall one's dark eyes; the brokenness of the young one. The unimaginable hurt.
'I made it stop!' he screams. He cries for that pain and their fear because he is a coward, not a killer, and his ninth self is born in anguish.
'I don't want to go,' and he blinks sleepily at the console room. The voice lingers in his head.
'Hello?' He peers into the nearest corridor.
Empty. Strange. Perhaps he'd been talking in his sleep.
Maybe it was time to go somewhere. Earth? No. Hadn't he been there recently? A horse, a kiss...
His mind feels odd. Something's missing.
Time to get another companion, maybe.
'Hey, girl, mind telling me what's happening?' The controls are warm under his hands. 'Who was that?'
No answer from her; he lets her chose the co-ordinates.
He feels at peace. The feeling frightens him.
He slams the Tardis doors. 'I don't want to go,' rings in his mind, but he has nowhere to go anyway.
Trenzalore is calling him.
Gallifrey is calling him.
They terrify him; past and future, full of pain. Why must there be new pain? He'd just started getting used to the old one. There had been days when it didn't drive him to his knees.
No. He won't, he won't, he can't...
He begs the Tardis to take him away. Triple locks doors that no-one can reach and closes curtains no-one can see through and admits that he is lost.