(A/N: My first Doctor Who fic. Sorry if it gets kinda rambley and off-topic at the end but that's how I perceive the Doctor (11 anyway) to think like (especially since he talks like that) and I lost track of what I was going to originally write. I just finished watching The Rebel Flesh/The Almost Human yesterday and the plight of the Gangers hit home with me. I don't quite know why...but I liked the idea of getting inside the Ganger 11th Doctor's head and seeing how he felt on things as the combination of angry Flesh and "pacifist" Doctor. Enjoy and remember, constructive cruticism is appreciated. I learn that way.)
I Think Therefore I am, I am Therefore I Live
(a Doctor Who fanfiction by Illisandria Carthain)
Character: 11th Doctor Ganger
I am. I think therefore I am, correct? I think so I must be; and if I am, must there not be life? Life that belongs to me, life that I have a right to, life that is not stolen, but simply not unique. Why cannot you see it?
We deserve a life as much as you do! Just because you are the "original", the Mould from which we are cast, the grander image of life we are made to imitate, this does not give you the right to call us "monsters". If anything, this gives us the right to call you "monsters"—you who created something to imitate life only to take away the life you inadvertently bestowed. You truly are the monsters here.
So our forms are not stable, our bodies made of synthetic organic material, our skin far more elastic than yours; this gives you no right to hunt us, to kill us. We were, are, afraid. We are afraid of you who are us but also not us; of not being who we think we are; of finding out that we were meant to be created and thrown away for the furthering of your race and the continual oppression of ours.
Yes, we are a race! We are the Gangers, those-made-of-Flesh, the not-human humans. And just like any other race, we too deserve the chance to coexist peacefully alongside the humans-that-are-human - our Moulds.
The only one that saw this possibility was my Mould; the Doctor (in his eleventh incarnation or his tenth regeneration), the last of the living Gallifreyan Time Lords, and thief of a (completely outdated at the time he stole it) Mark40 TARDIS, stuck with the Chamelon Arch on and the Perception Field projecting the form of a bold blue police box. He, I, we saw the possibility of an inter-racial piece; we saw the idea that, if we could get the other Gangers to calm down and understand that we're all scared, there could be an agreement. Unfortunately Ganger Jennifer had other ideas, completely going berserk and rallying the other Gangers to war. "Us against them" was the rallying phrase.
The idea was further away from a possibility when Amy (Amy's Flesh avatar) reacted badly to finding two of us. She lashed out against me and refused to let me call her Pond, like I always have—as the Mould Doctor anyway. So my Mould and I cooked up a plan to switch shoes (the only defining difference between him and me) and effectively switch places. This worked without a hitch since we were the same person, on the ætherial level, mental level, and the emotional level. The only thing that separated him and I from completely being the same person was our genetic structure. He had the deoxyribonucleic acid of a half-Gallifreyan, half-human while I had the deoxyribonucleic acid of the Flesh from which I was spawned. It worked for the most part; he and I switched places, I took the role as leader of the Moulds while he joined the Gangers, we brought together Ganger Jimmy and Mould Jimmy with the love of their son—albeit a tad late considering Mould Jimmy died from acid eating through his heart—and soon Mould and Ganger Cleaves were talking as though they were equals as were Mould and Ganger Dickens (and hopefully both Buzzers would have done the same but Ganger Buzzer died via Mould Cleaves's cattle prod weapon and Mould Buzzer was probably destroyed by Ganger Jennifer) and Rory returned to Amy—Flesh avatar-Amy, mind you—and all seemed well for some time; but, just as we were leaving to go and prove to the world that Gangers were just as human and alive as their Moulds, Ganger Jennifer appears.
This lead to the sacrifice of Mould Dickens as he tries to shut the door behind us (far behind us because the one directly behind us won't latch) so that we can reach the TARDIS (which had sunk through the crypt floor, right to where we were standing). He got eaten, to the disgust of all the Gangers and myself, and so Ganger Cleaves and I held the door DIRECTLY behind us shut, telling my Mould, Flesh-avatar-Amy, Rory, Ganger Dickens, Ganger Jimmy, and Mould Cleaves to get in the bloody TARDIS and leave us. Amy refuses, still thinking I'm my Mould and it comes to a point where my Mould and I tell her the truth and he tosses me the sonic screwdriver (funny name, sonic screwdriver...it should be more of a sonic Swiss army knife or sonic do-it-all-doohickey...BLATHERING! Certain death! Shut up, you're gonna die!) and tells me to point and click at the five hundredth frequency to dissolve Ganger Jennifer—the minor drawback is the dissolving of myself and Ganger Cleaves in the process but you gotta break a few eggs to make an omelet, yeah? So they leave, after Flesh-avatar-Amy hugs me and thanks me, and I point and click.
"Geronimo."
I thought, therefore I was. I was, therefore I lived. I lived, therefore I died.