Chapter One:

War was violent and bloody and no one knew that quite like The Doctor. His lifespan stretched throughout time and in that he'd witnessed countless deaths. Death was a stench, an aura, which followed him around and plagued his mind. The T.A.R.D.I.S hummed and droned; the sound was comforting in times of stress. Nothing seemed to be more soothing to him than a breeze on his face and the sound of his amazing ship. The desktop theme was 'forest' and The Doctor rather liked it; it was mellow, calm and slightly dark.

He leaned back in the smooth, curved twigs that entwined to create a, chair and closed the book on his lap. The trees around him emitted a green hue that gave him a perfect reading light while the dark sky above him felt massive above him. A green moon sat in the sky at mid-point in permanent stasis; it was artificially grown like the grass, paths, trees and breeze that surrounded him.

The Doctor rose from the chair and walked down a stone and dirt path until he arrived at the large glowing green hexagonal, tree based, console. The console grew out of the ground and get on going into the sky, the exterior was made of wood with some parts made of smooth wood and others a thick bark. Levers and wooden buttons were along the top of the six panels and underneath were roots that acted like cables. The time rotor was a tree with sections cut out to reveal a glowing green liquid that moved when the ship was in flight. A large tree sat nearby and the scanner screen was imbedded in its trunk.

The Time Lord placed his hand on the console, his ring with a red crystal in the top glinted in the green light. He liked this new form; young, strong and quirky. Some people considered his outfit strange but he considered it 'steampunk'. He wore a white suit shirt, a grey waistcoat with charcoal grey trousers and shiny leather black shoes. His long grey coat went down to his calves, in the pockets were leather gloves and he usually wore a grey top hat; were hung up on a tree near the main exit doors. His thick brown hair was pushed to the side but strands often covered his piercing blue eyes. He was tanned, tall and muscular which gave him an excuse to run in the ship's gym and practise his old martial arts.

He twisted the two rings on his hand and one on the other before activating the scanner. He watched as a galaxy appeared on it and glowed; he could have looked out the doors but the screen was enough for him. He knew what was to come, after all he had lived it twice over but had only remembered recently. A whole five galaxies would align which would set a cosmic event into motion.

He had dreaded the day when he'd go over the events of his life with his one worst enemy…himself.

The console room was aglow with white light. The Doctor danced around the console in a merry jig. Music played as he moved around the chrome console while the glass time rotor rose and fell in time with the engines.

His body wasn't as young as he would have liked but the dark grey hairs that grew on his head looked great when trimmed into a beard that moved across his face and around his lips but not touching his nose. Some people saw his blue tuxedo as a strange yet bold fashion choice but he was never really known to care. His body was old as was his mind but hidden away in there was the wonder of a child who was looking upon the beauty of the universe for the very first time.

The white roundels in the walls glowed brightly and flickered with the engines. The machine was a masterpiece to him and he loved it more than anything in the wide universe; it was his home and his very best friend.

With a snap of a lever the T.A.R.D.I.S materialised. With a flick of a switch the scanner on the console activated and he watched as an image of a mountain scape appeared along with reams upon reams of data.

"Habitable," he remarked to himself. "Peaceful yet full of adventure." He noticed something on the edge of the image and used the controls to move the view. A group of people were climbing the mountain. An idea crept into his head and a smile spread across his face. "Looks like I'm going for a hike!"

He tried using the river to clean his jacket but it wasn't working, the scarlet stain was in too deep; he was not lost on the irony that the jacket mimicked his mind. He'd seen travesty, havoc, multiple apocalypses, even the great Time War but nothing amounted to this.

His conscience was crowded with death and depression most of the time but now it was worse. He'd killed so many and yet he knew the exact number. He was too terrified to state it aloud because he knew that he would be overcome by grief and sadness. That was one of the reasons why he never stopped moving; because if he did then he would think and then he would stop altogether.

He noticed that he had some blood in his thick auburn beard; so he decided to wash it. How long had it been since he'd shaved? Since he'd washed? Since he'd slept? He didn't know and he didn't want to know; all he knew was that it had been long time.

Dust settled in the air as it always did after a storm as The Doctor rose from the musky waters and turned on the balls of his feet. In the distance he could see it; his favourite place in the entire universe, his home, the old box from London 1963.

With a slow swagger he walked towards it, he felt a pain in his arm and realised that there was an opened wound there; the blood had clotted but it was still painful. The box drew closer and he held up his hand; he clicked his fingers and the blue doors swung open and he saw inside. The rustic, grunge, interior sat before him.

The T.A.R.D.I.S was pulling him in but he also seemed to be repulsing him; it knew what he'd done and it despised him for it. His actions were evil and immoral but it was just and he would stand in front of anyone and justify himself because he could.

His feet hit the metal grating, the doors closed behind him and the sound of the machine washed over him; soothing all his muscles, all the aches and pains seemed to lessen slightly.

He used to go sprinting off, dematerialising the ship and leaving behind all the pain. But this time he needed to wash, to change and to forget; it wasn't a want it was a need. For once The Doctor needed to look after himself before he went insane…or more insane than he already was.