A/N: This was originally posted on Reddit. I'd had the idea for it for a while, but this writing prompt inspired me to actually start the fic: [eu] The Doctor dies and regenerates, only to come to a shocking conclusion. His/her new brain has no problems at all with violence.

She was strapped to an operating table when the regeneration began. The golden glow began to fill the room, scaring off the butchers that had been surrounding her. When the Doctor had stopped off alone on this planet for a quick jaunt, she had no idea what horrors were waiting for her when she arrived. The native inhabitants of the planet fancied themselves as amateur scientists, justifying their torture as a means of technological and physiological progression. Any and all new species that arrived had to be examined and their initial scans had shown that the Doctor was nothing like anything they'd ever seen before. She'd been taken by surprise soon after stepping out of her TARDIS and overpowered easily. She had never stood a chance.

The force from the regeneration energy easily broke through the shackles, leaving the Doctor's new body free. She sat up and gasped, looking around wildly to see if her captors were still there. She knew she didn't have much time to waste before they came back. She stood up, realizing very quickly that the only thing covering her was a sheet covered in blood - her blood. No, not her's anymore. That blood belonged to someone else. Someone happier and far more trusting than she ever would be. Now she didn't know who she was.

She pulled the sheet tighter around herself as she heard the familiar vworp vworp of the TARDIS as it materialized in the room, but something was wrong. That wasn't her TARDIS. It had been so many lifetimes since that was her TARDIS. The door creaked open and the leather jacket clad Doctor peeked his head out. He looked aghast when he saw the sight before him.

"Get in," He urged her and the other Doctor did so, climbing into the familiar comfort of her home, even if it was from years past. She looked around, acclimating herself to the different interior as she staggered inside.

"What happened to you? Who did this to you?" Nine's voice cut through her thoughts.

It took her a moment to realize he was addressing her and even longer to register what he'd asked. Rage bubbled up inside her as she remembered what she'd gone through. She clenched her hand into a fist at her side and she fought the urge to punch the console.

"Something went wrong."

She was certain that the words had come from her mouth, but the voice sounded completely foreign to her. It was rough and raw and tinged with anger and hate. She looked up at her former self and there was recognition in his eyes. He could see so much of himself in her already. Both of them were wounded by what had happened to them. She surmised that he had probably just regenerated, even though she couldn't recall this interaction at all. He hadn't even met Rose yet. There was so much still ahead of him before he became her.

She looked down at herself realizing once again that she was naked save for the bloody surgical sheet.

"I'm going to change," She told him, moving past him to get some clothes.

"The wardrobe room is-"

"I know," She said, cutting him off and moving around like she owned the place. "Get us out of here," She ordered him.

It finally dawned on him once she'd retreated further into the TARDIS who she had to be. He didn't know why the TARDIS had crossed their time streams, but he knew it had to be bad for that sort of intervention. Before he could even get to the controls, the TARDIS whirred to life, already taking them elsewhere, but something wasn't right. He ran to the monitors, looking outside once they'd landed. There were two other familiar blue boxes landed right beside them.