Anyway, there were So many reasons I could think to do this story - the main one being that the idea refused to drop until i began typing. But there were also reasons not to do this. For starters, this is purely my imagination - I have no idea what happened in the Timewar, and I'm sure RTD has a better grasp of it than myself. Also, it's quite a demanding story - and I'm not entirely sure that I'm up to it and am not sure if i could do it justice :S So please, bear that in mind. Another thing - I am practically new to Doctor who; having only watched the series since Eccleston began. So please please forgive me if any of my information is innacurate - I did try to do some research on it, but I'm sure some of it is wrong.
Characters: Mostly 8th Doctor, with 9th at the end. Romana. Dalek emperor. Numerous Timelords. etc
Pairings: (Very very very) slight 8/Grace at the beginning; but only as a recap of the movie.
Chapter 1
"Come with me?" the Doctor said, eyes glittering with promised dreams.
"You come with me!" Grace laughed.
"Me come with you?" he half thought she was joking, and in a way, she was – she didn't expect him to give up his life of adventure for one of mundane daily routine… But she also knew that she didn't have a part in that life. One adventure was great, but to have one everyday… She didn't think she could do it…
"It's tempting," he watched the fireworks; his voice was vague and dazed – as though he was thinking of something else. His eyes were filled with nostalgia.
"I'm gonna miss you," she said, trying to sound light-hearted. She will miss him. A lot. All the things they've shared.
"How can you miss me?" he beamed, "I'm easy to find – I'm the guy with two hearts remember?"
"That's… Not what I meant," there was a hint of sadness in her voice as she gazed at him.
Without really thinking, he leant forwards and they kissed beneath the fireworks in the night sky. But, far too early, he pulled away. He hated goodbyes. Always had done. Always would do.
And so they parted, and went their separate ways. Both full of regret, but knowing they made the right choice. They each had to live their separate lives…
He gave her one last look – one final goodbye – before stepping out of her life.
The Doctor closed the doors of the TARDIS – his beloved ship – behind him, leaning heavily against them and sighing. He slowly made his way to the controls; his tongue running across his upper lip – he could still just about taste Grace on him. He sighed once again at her refusal to travel with him, and wondered what to do now.
The master had been destroyed – the Eye of Harmony had seen to that – and finally, he was rid of his arch nemesis.
He felt sad in a way – as much as he disliked the Master, he still felt compassion for him. He was, after all, a fellow Timelord. And, despite their many difference, they did have one considerably large similarity – they were both outcasts. Both had been rejected by their home… The Doctor couldn't help but feel a certain pull towards someone who shared something like that with him.
As the TARDIS dematerialized, a wave of nostalgia overwhelmed him, and he wished, more than anything, that he could go back to his planet. Go back and see his people… He wished he could pretend he'd never been banished. Wished he could imagine being welcomed back with open arms as they beamed and accepted him.
He shook his head in an attempt to rid the feeling of homesickness away. He patted his ship fondly, a fake grin hiding his sadness.
"Ah well old friend. No use wallowing in self pity now is there?" He twiddled with a few levers before asking, "How are you feeling?"
A series of beeps and whirs informed him, to his amusement, that actually she would rather like a holiday.
He laughed, "Well I don't know… You aren't exactly known for your accurate landings are you? I'm sure if we aimed for a lovely relaxing beach in Retsoyrel, we'd probably overshoot it by a couple of light-years."
He was rewarded with a short sharp electric shock from the console, accompanied by a few harsh beeps.
"YOW!" he leapt in the air, snatching his hand away and sucking his finger. "Aww, c'mon, you know I was joking…"
She refused to reply; ignoring his pouts.
Suddenly, one of the monitors crackled into life, ending their moment of light-heartedness. The Doctor scrambled over to see a face he never thought he'd see again.
"Romana," he breathed in wonder at her image, fuzzy and grainy on the screen.
"Doctor," she inclined her head in greeting.
"I thought I'd never see you again! How:-"
"A lot has happened since our travels together Doctor, she interrupted smiling.
"But how are you here?" he asked.
"That story is one to be saved for a later date, but right now I need your help," her smile disappeared to be replaced by a grave look. "You must come back to Gallifrey. The Daleks have massed together and are, as we speak, enclosing in on us."
The Doctor's earlier happiness disappeared into shock and anger. "The Daleks," he almost hissed.
Romana nodded, sadness clouding her features. "We are gathering our forces – all of Gallifrey – to help defend the planet, but…" she hesitated before continuing; allowing a note of panic to enter her voice. "Doctor… There's so many. So many more than anyone anticipated. We fear that the emperor has called together every Dalek in existence to launch their attack on us… This will be the greatest Time war ever fought… And we need everyone's help… Please Doctor. I don't know if we can survive this," she pleaded.
"I'm coming," he replied, face dark as he set the coordinates. "I'm coming Romana."
"Thank you," she whispered before turning off the monitor.
Moments later, he materialized, for the first time in decades, on Gallifrey. On his home. As he opened the door, tears filled his eyes as he gazed at everything he hadn't seen for so long. The gentle breeze ruffled the lush red grass and gently flurried through the trees; causing a few loose silver leaves to waft gently down, reflecting the sunlight from the two suns.
He breathed in deeply, taking in the unique smell of his home. He closed his eyes in bliss; letting the soft sunlight graze his features. It had been so long… Too long.
He reluctantly turned away to face the enormous building to his right. He was here for a purpose.
He strode the hundred metres to the door, and was surprised to find no one guarding the entrance. Bewildered, he eased open the glass door and went inside.
He had almost forgotten what the Gallifreyan embassy looked like. Forgotten the obsession with white. There was no colour anywhere. Everything – the walls, ceiling, desks, chairs – was white. As he walked over to the glass-domed lift, his feet silently padded across the plush white carpet.
The lift doors slid open with a barely audible hiss, and he stepped inside.
"Name?" an electronic voice from the ceiling asked.
"Uhm. The Doctor?" he said hesitantly – the last time he'd done this (some thirty years ago) his access had been denied.
The machine processed the information slowly, and the Doctor half expected to be ejected from the premises. But, half a minute later, to his surprise, the metallic voice spoke up again, unable to find fault. "Access granted." And the lift began to move. "Transporting Doctor to Floor 506."
Less than a minute later, the doors whirred open once again, and he strode into the white corridor. There was a single iron door in front of him with the word 'STRONGHOLD' bolted onto it and no visible way of opening it. As he approached it, several things happened at once;
A bio scanner confirmed he was a Gallifreyan, while another scanner scanned his retinas. A small metal panel in the wall next to the door buzzed on; blue lights winking at him.
He placed his left palm over the panel and watched as the light ran over his unique finger prints, giving him a strange tingling sensation in the process.
Finally, the door opened; a mechanical voice informing the occupants of the room that 'Species - Timelord; code – 153265alpha; Name - The Doctor" had just entered.
He stepped into the room, and was taken aback at the contrast to the rest of the building. Grey and bronze metal plates lined the walls, without a hint of white anywhere. Computers sat blinking and whirring away. And a large metal table sat at the centre. Obviously this room was designed with one purpose and one purpose only – protection.
So this was where everyone was.
Upon his entrance, everyone had jerked their heads up to see who it was, falling silent. Many, he noticed, watched him with contempt and, in some cases, outright distaste. But a few, he was glad to note, beamed and waved at him.
Romana stepped forwards out of the throng, and approached him smiling. "Doctor. Thank Rassilon."
He grinned back, "hello Romana. It's been a long time."
They were both awkward – should they shake hands? The Doctor scratched the nape of his neck, embarrassed. He had no clue what was 'appropriate' in this situation – especially with a load of haughty Timelords surrounding him.
They contented with shaking hands vigorously until neither could bear it much longer, and they embraced happily.
"I've missed you so much!" she whispered into his shoulder.
"I know," he replied softly. "So have I."
They parted when someone coughed pointedly. A man stepped out, and was quickly introduced as Balkonefarius – commanding general and in charge of the military. More fellow Timelords were introduced in turn before they all took a place around the table.
"As I'm sure you're aware," Romana began. "Gallifrey is in the beginnings of a crisis. The Dalek emperor has declared war on our people, and his forces have already begun their advance. I am told that they will be here before nightfall… This gives us roughly four hours to make a decision."
And so began the lengthy debate…
The Doctor hated politics, and just listened to various military advisors arguing over their options. He did not contribute – he was here only to fight for and protect Gallifrey; not to make decisions that would have an impact on its inhabitants. After at least half an hour of heated argument, it was decided that everyone – both Timelord and non-Timelord – who wished to fight, would be drafted into the army. At least one Timelord would be in charge of a battalion, and responsible for every soldier in it.
Romana turned to Balkonefarius, telling him to inform all the generals of what was happening, and to instruct soldiers to go to all the cities and search for willing volunteers.
She looked solemnly around the table at each individual before addressing them all. "This will be the greatest struggle of our lives. The outcome of this war will dictate the fate of Gallifrey. Lives will be lost, but we must not hesitate. Gallifrey must be saved." She dismissed them before speaking quietly to the Doctor, "I must speak to you quickly."
He nodded as she led him to a small corner of the room.
"I have put you in charge of one of the Arcadian battalions Doctor." He tried to interrupt, but was cut off. "I know you haven't had any official training, but I've seen what you do… You have more experience than most of my generals. You understand the ways of combat more than any of them."
"Ok," he breathed in agreement. "Where will you be?" he inquired.
"I will be leading one of my own battalions on the other side of the city."
"What!" he cried out, shocked. "But. You can't!"
Her eyes flashed dangerously, "do not tell me what I can and cannot do Doctor. I am not a helpless female to run away at the first sight of a threat. I thought we established that decades ago."
"That's not what I meant and you know it," he said gruffly. "You're our leader. What happens if you're killed? We need you safe here."
"And what happened when the soldiers see their leader cowering behind walls of protection? What hope will they have left then?"
He slammed a fist on the wall in aggravation, hating the fact that she was right.
"Where did you park your TARDIS?" she asked, startling him with the subject change.
"Huh? Outside. Next to the embassy."
"Move it," she instructed him. "Move it to this room – it'll be a lot safer here in the stronghold. And it may be helpful in an emergency."
"Ok," he nodded, turning to go.
"Oh and Doctor?" she called after him, a hint of teasing in her voice. "When you land, try to do so in the right century – it'd be much more helpful!"
The Doctor rolled his eyes, unable to hide a small smile.
A/N: I do love reviews :D hinthint