Authors Notes:
This is my second Dr Who fiction - although I doubt my last! I wrote this quickly in a quiet hour at work so if there are any errors blame my Beta the wonderful Dr D for not picking them up!
FB is always welcome
The Fury of the Time Lord
He never raised his voice, that was the worse thing.
The fury of the Time Lord.
I was full of fury on that day, more so than at any other time in my long life. I wanted vengeance and retribution. I wanted hell fire to reign down on those who took innocent lives to get to me. I wanted to kill those who stole what my life could have been.
When I came to this time and place to hide in the persona of another, a human, I signed their death warrant. If they had never found me they would have died, their life force spent in a matter of months. I would have killed them and that would have been kind.
Now they had taken lives to give themselves form, they had taken lives to get at me and for both those things alone they deserved to die. But for the fact they took from me a life and a love I will never experience again, for that they deserve to live…in a hell of my choosing.
I found each of them a unique way to share what I had now to bear, an eternity spent away from those they love. They were a family, like the family they took from me and now they are 4 and I am 1 and we are all alone in the universe – until the end of time.
I wanted to scream and cry at them – to ask them what gave them the right to do what they had done – but I knew why they had done it, they did it to survive. We all do the things we have to do to survive. I more than most should know that for I am the last of my race and I must survive for I fear if I do not then this world and many like it will fall to the forces of evil. I should have had compassion, I should have had mercy, I should have understood why they did what they did. But they didn't understand what it cost me and so I had no mercy and no compassion.
I didn't scream and cry I just did what I had to do, I pushed all my hatred deep inside for long enough to let this world survive. I sacrificed a life I hadn't yet seen except in a brief moment - a moment that was enough to make me want to stay where I was. In truth I didn't sacrifice anything – he did – John Smith the man I had become and the man I wanted to be until the end of his life. I have used this man's name before – I will maybe never use it again – it has too many memories now, memories of what I never was.
I had sent them all to hell and I was glad. Inside me burned a fire for revenge and even the solitude I sought on the cold wet fields of this world could not dampen that fire. It burns inside me still but less with every passing day. The universe still turns and whilst it does there is no place for a Time Lord without focus. I need to be myself again and I will be although I will never be the same as I was before I came to 1913 – John Smith has left his mark in me and for every day that mark remains so does the fury and the hate.
Now and again my hatred rises and some other race suffers – it isn't fair but it is the way of the universe, the way it has been for all time and the way it will be until the end of my time. I used to shy from the fight but now I welcome it.
It will make me what I am to become.
The VERY last of the Time Lords.