He stared up at the ceiling, feeling time drift past him. He closed his eyes as the gentle hum of the TARDIS soothed his war-wracked mind.
Wait.
His eyes shot open. The war. He had been in the middle of the war, helping to lead the armies facing the Could've Been King and his Army of Meanwhiles and Neverweres.
So much suffering, so much pointless pain.
With a heavy sigh, he pulled himself to his feet. Time to see who had pulled him from the front lines and into their TARDIS.
An affronted noise came from the general area of the time rotor. His eyes narrowed and he touched the console carefully.
This wasn't just a TARDIS - this was his TARDIS. Someone must have changed the theme. But how in the...
A hologram recording sprung into life before him. He stumbled back in an automatic recoil.
"Hello, Doctor," the man said with a sad smile. "If you are seeing this, then my hypothesis is correct and you will survive. And I'm sorry."
"...the Valeyard," the Doctor breathed, running his hand over his shortly cropped hair. He mused very briefly at the loss of his rather luxurious chestnut locks.
"I'm sure you have recognized me as the Valeyard," the Valeyard continued. "Although, to be honest, I didn't realize that's who I was until I escaped and knew what had to be done."
The Valeyard was much older than the Doctor had seen him before, but he saw none of the animosity that had always been present in the past.
"I believe you will be taken sometime near the beginning of your involvement in the Time War, but I cannot be certain. At the very least, the trauma has probably forced a regeneration. Personally, I'm not even sure which number I'm on at this point - I lost count after twelve..." the Valeyard shook his head sadly and sighed. "You should know that I have done something horrid. Something so unspeakably awful that I wish I never had to tell you. But I must because as soon as you recover from your regeneration, as soon as you start to pilot the TARDIS, you'll know. You'll feel it, hear it.
"But first, you must know, you have to know - I did everything I could to prevent this. You know as well as I did that I even tried to stop myself from even existing back in our... oh, sixth - maybe seventh? - body. But I failed. I've failed everything and everyone.
"I'm not sure how much you know because I don't know when you've been plucked from exactly - but the War changed the Time Lords. Their minds twisted and corrupted after all those neverending years of destruction. They devised a final solution to the war - the very end of time itself, the ascension of only the Time Lords into beings of pure consciousness while the rest of the universe simply ceased to exist."
The Doctor stared at the hologram in horror. Is that all it was now? No time, no space, just... him. Alone in all of existence.
"I refused to accept this. And so I ran and ran, escaping the Time War, searching until I could find this." The Valeyard held out an unfamiliar device. "They call it 'The Moment.' It's a modified De-mat Gun, changed to effect two specific species in their entirety. Once I have used it, the entire Time War will be timelocked."
"But that's genocide!" the Doctor burst out., surprised at his heavy Northern English accent. That was a new one. Wait. Two species. "No..." he breathed
"I am going to use it on the Daleks... and the Time Lords," the Valeyard's voice cracked and he quickly looked away from the Doctor. "Please know that what I do, I do without a choice."
"No!"
"And since I am you, and I must use The Moment... I believe that you will be spared. A living paradox that must remain as a remnant of the one who activated the device. I believe that you will be yanked out at some point before I even exist and forced into being. And I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. But they must be stopped." The Valeyard looked back at the Doctor, his eyes no longer sad and wavering, his jaw set. "In the name of peace and sanity, they must be stopped."
"NO!" the Doctor shouted as he saw the Valeyard reach down and flip a switch on the device. The recording abruptly cut off.
Shaking, the Doctor walked away from the console.
It was a lie. It had to be a lie.
He stood at the double doors.
Another trick. Sure, they said the Valeyard was his future self, but, I mean, it could have been anyone. Any of them.
Slowly, he pulled them open.
Before him, he bore witness to Gallifrey's last fiery moments before it winked out of existence.
Everyone was gone.
And he had killed them. His friends. His family.
Double genocide. All because of the Daleks. All because of him.
He leaned against the doorjamb and closed his eyes.
The silence was deafening.