If Ever a Worthy Cause…
by Shadowesque13
Chapter: 1 of ?
Rating: PG (for the moment)
Genre: Drama (also for the moment)
Summary: Something's wrong with the universe. This is something the Doctor has known from the start, but never quite as much as now, facing another version of himself that shouldn't exist. NinthDoctor ShalkaDoctor
A/N: If you haven't figured it out, it'd help a LOT to know who I mean when I say Shalka Doctor (go Wiki him). Canon-wise, this is pre-"Rose" (for Nine) and post-'The Feast of the Stone' (for the Shalka Doctor). Just so you know, I have no idea whatsoever where this is going, hence the 'for the moment' bits up there.
The TARDIS rocked and shuddered with the mighty strain upon it, the engines filling the room with the pulsating sound that would normally be comforting. This was not the case at the moment.
"Come on, old girl, stop being so stubborn!" He gave the console a firm whack—which, much to his chagrin, did absolutely nothing to help this time. A twirl of a dial, smacking an unresponsive button a few times, flip of a switch or three—no matter what he tried, his ship was being pulled far from the direction he had originally intended to go in.
A spark, another jolt. And suddenly, all was still. For a moment, he stood still, listening. His 'old girl' had finally stopped, landed somewhere. With a burst of energy, he ran to the doors, flinging them open.
It seemed normal enough. 'Normal' being a relative term, of course, and normally when normal things looked normal, they were anything but. He'd wound up on a street corner in a (relatively) normal-looking town. Everything was as it looked it should be. There were stores, people in the streets, walking and on their hover-scooters—the sky was a delightful purple tint, a cool breeze smelling something of lilac blew by.
Interestingly enough, he couldn't ever recall being here before, but then, whoever said he'd visited every inhabited planet in the universe?
Stepping through the doors with an air of wonderment about him, he started for the best place to gather information on anything—the pub. And there just so happened to be one down the street. Past windows showing high-end fashion, overpriced gems, and the latest technology had to offer was a brightly lit yet quaint spot, a sign by the door telling of the various beverages served and for what price.
But he had to pause when a pair exited said pub, as they were certainly not from anywhere around here. They looked…Human, actually. His brow furrowed, eyes following them. Something about the man couldn't be ignored, distinctly from him, and not his companion. She laughed at something, and he gave a small smile.
Unable to resist, he began to inconspicuously trail them. What was it? Something in the back of his mind, a spark of something, a tingling, almost familiar and yet… And yet what?
They rounded the corner, as did he, but that was all the further he got.
No. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible. Everything he knew told him it wasn't.
But there it was, standing there not thirty feet from him, a beautiful blue box, the TARDIS.
No, not the. 'The' required there being one, and since he was certain that nobody could hijack his and suddenly move it to here—here, where this other man was unlocking it was a very familiar key while chatting with his partner—it stood to reason that a TARDIS would be a more suitable article. A TARDIS resembling his own.
There was something very wrong with this picture, he decided. And so, before they got away, he would have to investigate. He was good at being too curious for his own good. The door was shut behind them, and the second the shock wore off, he ran up to it. A hand was placed flat against the door; it felt the same, and down to every last detail, it looked the same.
His key slid out. Wouldn't it be interesting if this worked…? Cautiously it was slid in, turned, the lock undoing itself, door willing to swing wide for him when he gave it a push, nearly stumbling inside out of disbelief.
"Doctor, we've got company."
"I told you someone was behind us, didn't I?"
He absent-mindedly pushed the door shut behind him, gazing around the console room in awe. And immense confusion.
So deeply was he in his inspecting mode that he hardly noticed when that oh-so-intriguing man that had caught his attention five minutes ago stalked up to him. Attention was once again upon him after a cleared throat tried to break the tension.
"Who are you, and how did you get in here?"
"Easy enough to get in when you've got one of these," showing off the identical key.
"Impossible."
"Nothing's impossible."
Blue eyes glared, and he took in the form of this man who was called the Doctor. Interesting style of dress, he had to admit. Sort of a Sherlock Holmes feel to it, he decided. A shock ofsteel hair laced with a lighter gray slicked back, sideburns coming down and framing a strong jaw. This man carried himself in an almost regal way.
"You still haven't answered my first question," he uttered darkly. "Who are you?"
"I'm the Doctor."
The black woman accompanying him gave a shout. "That can't be—he's the Doctor! Get out of here!"
"Now, Alison," and a raised hand silenced her. A smug look appeared on the seemingly stoic face. "How good of me to see myself again."
"We have to stop meeting like this." They shared a tense smile.
"Do you two…know each other?"
"Perhaps we ought to get them a room," drawled a frighteningly familiar sarcastic tone. Revealing himself at last instead of waiting in the shadows (something he found quite fitting), an old enemy stood.
He jumped back enough to be noticeable, surprise in his voice and incredulity in his voice. "The Master--!"
"Please, no need to make a fuss over me. I am certain thatyou will be glad to know I ammerely an android." He snorted, and said android cocked an eyebrow up. "Believe it or not, I have been helping out this blundering fool for a while now."
"How--?"
The other Doctor cut in hastily. "While I'm sure you've got all the time in the world to listen to a nice, long story, there are other matters to be dealt with."
He eyed him curiously. "Tell me, how many regenerations have you gone through?"
"I believe it must be eight by now."
"Eight? That can't be right…"
Those eyes narrowed again. "Why can't it?"
"Because I've gone through eight."
"Miscount."
"I'm as sure about the number as you are, Doctor."
Alison voiced her thoughts again. "He's lying. He's gotta be a doppelganger or something, right, Doctor?"
"If I was a doppelganger, hypothetically, then where would you suppose I got m'self a TARDIS key, a sonic screwdriver," which he pulled out of his pocket and presented to them, "and not to mention my very own TARDIS, complete with malfunctioning chameleon circuit stuck on old 1960's police box? Parked it just down the block, if you want to have a look." He took a step closer. "But you don't need to have a look, do you? You can feel it, right?" A finger tapped his temple. "In here?"
The other shifted, eyes looking him over again and saying nothing, but that was all he needed.
"What, feel what?"
The Master spoke this time to answer Alison. "Time Lords are subconsciously connected. We can feel each others' presence, if you will. Well, they can, at least."
"And something's off with this one," finished this Doctor, looking all the more puzzled.
"I haven't felt this in a while, and even I can tell this isn't right. Nothing about this is right," and he started pacing the room as if he owned it. Technically, he did, just not this particular one. "If you're the Doctor and I'm the Doctor, but neither one of us is a future or past regeneration--" He whirled around, facing the other. "What do you remember? Remember the scarf?"
"Oh, how could I forget that thing? I'm surprised I didn't break my neck tripping over it."
"The trial?"
"Not one of my best moments, I'll admit."
"Susan?"
They stared at each other for quite some time. No answer was needed.
"Same past regenerations, yet different present… The Master, he died, didn't he?"
"Must we bring that up?" A sigh. "Why, my dear Doctor, would I be an android, then?"
"But what about the Time War?"
The other blinked. "What Time War?"
He looked offended by this, like a slap to the face. "What d'you mean 'what Time War'? The Time War! The one where…" He trailed off, unsure of what to tell him. "No…no, can't have happened yet, could it? It's how I got to here…"
"What's he muttering about?" Alison looked to the Doctor—her Doctor. "What's a Time War?"
"The last great Time War." All eyes were on him, the imposter of the group, the outcast. "The Time Lords, Gallifrey…do they still exist?"
A blank look was all he got.
"Tell me! I have to know for sure!"
"Of course they do.What apreposterous question. Are you saying they don't exist, wherever you're from?"
"…Not anymore." After a moment of staring off into the distance, the pacing started up once more. "Of course! The TARDIS was pulling me off course! Pulling me here, for some reason, but why? Where am I, by the way?"
"The tenth planet in the Tragan galaxy."
"Never been there. But the TARDIS was acting up like she always seems to, so there must be something wrong, something going on, like the last few times I've met myself. Check the scans, is there anything amiss? Anything out of place at all?"
The Doctor moved to his console, opting to play with a few of the buttons along with the Master and gazing over the output that was given. "Beyond yourself?" A short sigh was heaved. "Nothing."
It was rather quiet between them for a few elongated moments. "So it's a tear in the time vortex; that has to be it. But how could my TARDIS possibly work here if this isn't my reality?"
"It could be because mine and many others work and pull the same type of energy as yours."
"I must be here to fix it. Or it caused a sort of temporal pull that the TARDIS got caught up in. The way we were trying to pull away, that scenario might be more likely."
"…A tear in the time vortex?" It just seemed to sink in now. "Wasn't that just theoretical? Enough tampering with time ending up in fractured timelines and, essentially, unstable portals to parallel universes, so to speak?"
"It's not theory anymore. And believe me, there's been enough tampering with time in my reality to cause this kind of thing."
In the back, the Master groaned to himself. What a day this was turning out to be—one Doctor tested what little patience he had to begin with, but two? It was his nightmare come true.