The Doctor found himself elbow-deep in a cadaver in his lab at three thirty-seven in the morning. Tedious tasks dwindled on his to-do list, and these simple tasks began to pile up, but he couldn't pull himself away from the corpse.

There was something that desperately concerned him. A terrible feeling had been traveling through his brain for months now, and he couldn't find any sense of relief.

His fingers caressed the now still, decaying organs of a once living being, never contaminated by his own devices until it's heart ran still. Now it was a mangled mess at the hands of a once sane man, but now villain to the human race.

His face held no expression now, and the body on the table lost his interest. The brilliant mind took three precise steps back, and looked to his destruction. He took a deep breath, feeling his old lungs take in the oxygen slowly, releasing it with a steady exhale. He wasn't satisfied with what he had been doing, though, in reality, he didn't know what he was doing with the body in the first place.

He had made a point of getting the cadaver, stating that he had needed it for important research purposes, to which the Major had no problem acquiring a fresh corpse at a snap of his fingers. The problem was, though, that the Doctor had no need for such. Subconsciously, perhaps, he needed an outlet, like an artist would need a canvas, but he now felt a tinge of regret, knowing one's own body would now be shoved aside simply because he wanted to destroy something.

He took another three steps back, to find himself leaning against the sterile, white laboratory wall. He slid down to the floor, his bloody arms resting on his knees. He focused on his breathing for a few more moments.

He thought back to his childhood, and his fascination in anatomy and the human condition. How proud his family was to have a future doctor to lift them from poverty. He thought to his adolescence, where he had fallen in love with a beautiful girl who willing let him take her innocence in the hopes that one day, he would take care of her and her future children. He thought to when he was a young adult, where he left to aid in the war efforts on a medical team, leaving his family and love to perish under gunfire. It wasn't difficult to feel remorse even after so long. He barely felt any emotion anymore, though regret always materialized.

Deep in thought, the Doctor wiped his arm against his brow, leaving a streak of the blood of the deceased on his forehead. He realized what he had done, but had no desire to stand and be rid of it. He little desire to do anything.

He couldn't bring himself to stand up again. He was conflicted with his inner demons, his past, and to his eventual, horrific demise. He's done nothing for society in benefit of anyone but himself. He was too greedy to see it before, and as he sat on the cold tile floor he realized that playing god wasn't fun anymore.

He pulled a poorly rolled cigarette out of a pocket of his lab coat, and lit it with a lighter from another. He wasn't much of a smoker, but the interest crept up with his stress levels.

Someone knocked at the door, distracting him from the metallic taste of the blood on the filter in his mouth.

"What?" He said in english, muffled by his clenched teeth.

A soldier walked in, a little offset by the appearance of the medical professional. He gave a small salute, knowing that the Doctor could really care less about military courtesy, before saying "The Major is in need of your assistance. "

The Doctor nodded, gritting his teeth together a bit. "I'll be there in a bit. Let me clean up a bit." He took a long drag, slowly exhaling the smoke.

The soldier nodded, turning on his heel to leave. The door shut quietly behind him.

With a sigh, the Doctor stood again, feeling the blood on his face beginning to dry.

His conscience ached with remorse again, feeling the weight of his past mistakes on his shoulders once again.

He looked to the body on the table again. He needed to stop playing god. He needed to stop altering the reality of life.

But for now, he needed to see the Major, and walked toward the sink to ready himself.