The Lady of Time Saga: Human


Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who (TV show, books, comic books, movies and etc.) which includes any of its characters, dialogue and story arcs. I also don't own Marvel Comics with relation to Tony Stark/Iron Man or any other book, movie, song, character or dialogue I may have mentioned along the way. I just so happened to use it for nonprofit able fun in my spare time.


Author's Note: This is the Doctor Who AU-ish fan fiction of my original character, a Time Lady named simply The Lady. I know that there are more than a dozen of these floating around out there but I wanted to try a hand of my interpretation of having a Time Lady in the universe of Doctor Who, rewriting some of the sad scenes with my view point and even trying some things that some of the author's haven't thought of quite yet. I hope you stick around for the Lady and enjoy!

WARNING! I know that the Ninth Doctor is much happier than the one I depict in this prologue chapter but I'm going off of the idea that he's more openly depressed after what he'd done. It is only after he meets my character that he starts to be the chipper/sassy Nine that we know and love.

FURTHER WARNING! This first chapter contains some slightly spoiler-y stuff for anyone who hasn't gotten past The Day of the Doctor. Fair warning!

ALSO! I have a Pinterest account where you can look up our resident Time Lady. My profile name there is the same as it is here. Just look up RogueMetamorph or The Lady/Doctor Who. Message me if you need help finding it. (For this first incarnation I'm imagining Jacqueline Bisset/Maggie Smith.)


DIALOGUE:

"Normal dialogue,"
"Dialogue heard through technology/speakers/television/radio/etc,"
"DIALOGUE FROM DALEKS,"
"DIALOGUE FROM CYBERMEN,"
"Dialogue in another language,"
'Telepathic speaking between characters,'
Special dialogue.
Writing.


Chapter 1 – S0xE00 – The Little Box


Tick tock goes the clock

The Moment has arrived

Tick tock goes the clock

The traitor has survived


A lonely man stood within his magic blue box, hollow tapping mixing with the ever present wheezing in the background. His eyes remained unfocused with thought even as his hands moved across the controls before him with practiced precision. After more than nine hundred years of flying his TARDIS (give or take a few hundred years, he couldn't remember) he had little trouble flying it… most of the time. Even without the additional pilots meant to be standing around the controls, he could still fly through the Vortex with ease. Many of the Time Lords had been forced to learn to fly with three or less pilots at the end, but he'd been doing so long before that.

The Doctor stared dully across the controls of the TARDIS's glowing console, his hands moving on their own accord as the tapping continued. There wasn't too much to be worried about as the box flew, not much to run into nowadays. And he had nowhere urgent to go, no one to see… he traveled aimlessly, helping those he could as he went, hoping to right his wrongs after what he'd done. Maybe if he helped, maybe if there was just one day where everyone got to live, maybe there would be a better reason for him to exist other than as the Murderer.

Since he'd regenerated after the Time War he hadn't spent much time with people, hadn't taken on a companion like he had before the war. He didn't feel like he deserved any of that. He hadn't forgotten the pain he felt after what he'd done to his planet but sometimes it felt all consuming, knowing that there was no one but him now. There was no Gallifreyan, no Time Lords, no other TARDIS. Just him and his blue box. That knowledge sometimes made the ache in his hearts unbearable, that knowledge that he'd made himself the last. Despite all that the Time Lords had become near the end, there was still the good he'd destroyed with the bad; namely the children.

He'd destroyed it all.

The Doctor sighed as he walked around the console, his worn leather jacket hanging loosely around his shoulders like a sad badge of honor. The lights flashed before him and he barely noticed his hand moving to pull the lever that would rectify the issue. Flipping one last switch that kept the TARDIS floating within the Time Vortex, he took a step backward to sag into the captain's chair as the knocking continued.

Maybe he could scan for alien tech if he became desperate for—

"Hold on," the Doctor breathed as he came to his feet, giving the doors opposite from him a curious tilt of his head. He stood for a second, listening. And there it was again; the knocking on the wood doors, a constant beat of three knocks. The Doctor stared, looking at the doors of the TARDIS with a confounded expression. "Somebody's knocking?"

That might not be so odd… if he wasn't currently floating out in space.

The Doctor was instantly rushing at the doors, curiosity the driving force as he moved. However, he came to a stop just before the doors, his hands clutching the cold metal handles as he stared at the grains of the door. The first possibility that came to mind was that the mysterious knocking was caused by a Dalek… a Dalek with a sense of humor to knock on the doors so that the Doctor would allow it in without a fight. But that was a ridiculous thought. There were no more Daleks in the same way that there were no more Time Lords or Gallifreyans.

He'd killed them all.

It was curiosity that made his fingers itch against the door, but it was eagerness that finally forced him to fling the doors open.

At first he didn't see it. He stood there for a long moment staring into the sparkling elegance of space with a dumbfounded and disappointed expression. The thought that he'd gone mad was plausible until he caught sight of the little box floating a foot from his face. He stared in shock at the white cube, waiting patiently for him to pluck it from the air.

He didn't however.

He stared at it instead. The cube floated in the air before him under its own power, glowing white from within. It made little noise other than a soft humming that might have been someone singing in his ear if he hadn't known there wasn't anyone else around. For a long moment he wasn't fully able to comprehend the little glowing box or the fact that the little cube was familiar to him. He almost felt as if touching it would cause it to pop back out of existence, prove for the last time that he'd finally lost his mind completely because what was staring him in the face was far too excruciating because… this little box… it was a psychic container. Part of the Time Lord emergency messaging system, one of these could be sent out through time and space with a message for help.

Sent out by a Time Lord.

He snatched it from the air, staring at it skeptically as he turned it over in his hands thoughtfully, studying the cube. It was clean, not at all aged, looked to be untampered with. There was no symbol on it to indicate who it was from but that didn't matter. Only the most elevated Time Lords typically stamped their names on a psychic container, mostly to get the rescue party to hurry along for them. The last of insignia only meant that the remaining Time Lord was not likely to be one he recognized.

"Well, hello," he breathed to the cube as he jerked his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket. "Who might you be?"

With a buzz of the screwdriver, the cub jerked once before lighting up even bright as words spilled out; "… Please…" a voice whimpered, a woman's voice that sounded broken with sorrow. "… I'm all alone here… I don't know where I am… I'm all alone…"

The Doctor winced, but continued to listen as the voice gained strength.

"… If there is anyone out there…" She stopped for a long moment before continuing. "My name is the Lady of the House of Heartshaven of the Prydonian Chapter. I was a general and TARDIS pilot during the Time War... and may very well be the last Time Lord in existence. However, if you are receiving this message, that means you are not alone,"

Those words had him sucking in a breath as if he'd been punched in the stomach or, more accurately, trampled by an angry bronto. Not alone. He was not alone.

"My TARDIS malfunctioned and I've been stranded—"She stopped for a long moment, the sounds of a door opening filling the silence. "—on Earth? … early twentieth century? I think I'm on the northern hemisphere. I'm not very good at Earth locations. My husbands was—"

A myriad of unintelligible voices filled the air before stopping on one voice again, one that was masculine; "I will never leave you… As long as we're together, we'll survive this—" The words cut off and the Doctor almost thought that was the end of it before her voice suddenly returned again.

"I don't know if any Time Lords will survive the war or will even come in search of me if we are victorious… I helped the Doctor to"

Again, a million whispering voices overshadowed hers until one painfully familiar voice broke over them all to announce; "No more,"

"so I will use the Chameleon Arch. If you come for me, you'll have to convince my human self to open the watch. If there is no one left, I will die as a human with no memory of the hell that was the Time War…"

The Doctor stared at the little box as the bright white light died down into a warm glow within his hand, remaining there like an unopened gift. The idea that he wasn't alone in the universe should have and perhaps did make him happy, overjoyed even but… the thought of another Time Lord left his insides muddled, unsure of what to do.

Please… I'm all alone.

Her voice echoed in his head, drowning out the ever present noise of the TARDIS. She'd been scared and alone, with no idea of what had been happening on the other side of the universe from where her TARDIS had crashed. She'd been alone.

He didn't move right away.

As a human, no matter who she'd been as a Time Lord, she deserved to be able to die at a peacefully old age with the belief that she was human. As a human she likely had lived a long and blissfully war free life. She probably had settled down for a simple life with a spouse, surrounded by children and grandchildren. She probably died peacefully in her sleep as he knew that he'd never be able to do. What right did he have to wake her from her dream only to bring her into his nightmare?

Could he be that selfish?

The Doctor stood, going to the console with a slow, if not hesitant, step.

He didn't even know her, yet he felt sorry for her— for the pain that she was going to remember because of him.


Tick tock goes the clock

Back to Earth he flew

Tick tock goes the clock

Now knowing there was two


Author's Note: What do you think? Are you going to stick around for more?