Author's Note: New fic. Well more accurately, new place to put all my one-shots and assorted drabbles I've written for Two and his companions. This will be updated whenever I have a nice assortment of them stored up.

For this first one, this is a missing preview scene for my story In Inceptum Finis Est that I wrote as a birthday gift to aragonite. It takes place a couple of weeks before the beginning of that story.

I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters.

Thank you to everyone who reads/follows/favorites/reviews. It is always appreciated.

In Memoriam

The Doctor did not like loose ends.

Slivery wisps of moonlight stretched through the cracks of the windows, cracks that were allowed to form because the owners of this laboratory had stopped caring past the motions of their masters' rhetoric. These places continued to exist because it was decreed by law that they would. However, existence was not necessarily equated with the need to be bothered or to stop the entropy of neglect.

The moonlight made the Doctor's white hair glow. As he sat hunched over the computer terminal in front of him, he begrudging thanked his luck that the people who used to mind this place so carefully no longer were so diligent. It was probably the deciding factor that enabled him to break into this place and access every computer in the compound.

Lines of code scrolled endlessly on the flickering monitor screen. The Doctor hated to use the word 'scientists' in regards to the people who worked here. They may have qualified for that title long ago, the first time he had conducted a 'surveillance' mission for the CIA. Only three hundred years later, that was no longer the case. What had started out as a robust (and to the Time Lords, worrying) scientific community had degenerated into a for-profit enterprise that was only interested in currying favor with the politicians who oversaw operations and in finding ways to attract investors.

The Doctor scowled and was only just able to stop himself from kicking the infuriatingly difficult computer. He had always believed that a sign of a truly advanced culture was the presence of computers that were designed to be as user-friendly as possible. The fact that the ones here relied on willfully obtuse operating systems told the Doctor all he needed to know about how far this culture had fallen academically.

The first time he had come here, he was gathering information to reassure the CIA that this planet was making valuable contributions to the universe's body of knowledge.

This time, he was making sure that their latest discovery would never be used by anyone else.

The Doctor glanced over at the tiny microchip that was currently a few inches from his fingertips. The CIA had discovered the existence of a particularly troublesome cybervirus in these computer systems a couple weeks ago and had assigned him with the task of neutralizing the threat.

'Never mind that they got that information by sending one of their other agents to re-write history so they could permanently infiltrate the network,' the Doctor fumed silently. 'What was it that they said when they sentenced me? Ah yes, breaking the cardinal laws of Time.'

He wasn't able to stop himself from snorting as he sifted through the information in front of him. His supervisors in the CIA made it clear that he was not to be discovered by the local populace; however, they also heavily implied that they wanted him to give a complete report of the work that was currently in progress. Granted, the Time Lords already had most of that data already, but there was always the chance that something had been missed or was being kept secret from the oversight committees.

So far, the Doctor did not see anything the Time Lords would be even remotely interested in. Most it was superficial trickery like finding ways to make bitter vegetables taste like fruit or creating designer flowers for the vanity of wealthy donors. Mostly, it was a hodge-podge of genetic tampering with no aims beyond the cosmetic. Still, he dutifully cataloged it anyway, just so he could say that he had complied with his given orders without having to resort to his usual verbal sparring tactics.

There was one section of the files that was giving him trouble. Someone who was cleverer than his peers had used an encryption that was proving to be a challenge to crack. The Doctor knew that it would be easy to just copy the whole thing and let the grunts at the CIA worry about sorting it out. But that would mean a loose end, and how he loathed loose ends.

"Stupid, idiotic..." he grumbled, his fingers dancing over the keys. He was able to figure out that what had looked like ingenuity was just tedium layered upon tedium. Whoever had designed this code had counted on short attention spans and mounting frustration levels to encourage would-be hackers to give up.

They did not, however, count on someone as perpetually determined as the Doctor.

"There," the Doctor said, a smirk of satisfaction lighting up his face. "Now that that's out of the way, let's see what they were so determined to hide."

Minutes after he started to read, the Doctor wished that he had not been so thorough.

The files contained information on cloning experiments, many of which were horrifying in nature. There were lists of people who had been scanned and sampled, probably without their knowledge. These brain scans and bits of genetic material were being used to create clones whose sole purpose was for use in experiments. There was even information on how to customize a clone for specific types of tests. The Doctor's stomach turned when he viewed one of the video feeds that were made to demonstrate the validity of drug trials performed at accelerated rates on a group of clones. The sights and sounds he witnessed were sure to lurk in his nightmares for a long while.

The Doctor finished uploading the information and was about to upload the virus inhibitor when he saw a notation indicating that the laboratory across the hall had additional files on its computers which were not part of the main network. It was needlessly risky, but the Doctor decided to check on it.

After all…loose ends….

The Doctor's hands shook as he walked along the narrow walkways of the laboratory and took in the sights all around him.

The terminal in this lab only had marginally more data than the one he had commandeered. It was a swift, simple process to empty out its memory circuits and store everything onto the data cube he had brought with him. The Doctor was relieved to discover that the cloning program was pretty much defunct and that no new samples or scans had been taken in decades. Thanks to his special brand of sabotage and selective deletes of vital formulas, the Doctor had ensured that the program would be hard-pressed to ever start up again. Especially after he had used that same cybervirus he had been sent to destroy to alter the files that remained on the hard drives.

However, the mention of storage tanks that held a few remaining 'templates' had sent prickles of dread throughout his body. Despite the awareness that his chances of getting caught were increasing dramatically with each minute he stayed, the Doctor looked for those tanks, intent on making sure that whatever was there would be taken care of properly.

The tanks in question were large, circular globes of glass-like material with a light tan hue. The surface was clouded, but they were still transparent enough to see inside. There was only enough space inside each one for the humanoid clones to sit upright and maybe get up onto all fours. Inside, the floor of the globes were cushioned and had openings to allow food and water to be transported in and waste to be transported out. Every basic physical need had been considered in the design.

Not that the designers were concerned about things like the fact that their clones would never see the sun or have anyone hold their hands.

So far, the Doctor counted five corpses: clones who had died as a result of the experiments performed on them or who had aged to death. Granted, the short lifespan of these clones meant that it only took months for one of them to become elderly.

He had reached the last of them and was about to march out of this place in disgust when he saw a face, a face he should not have seen.

It was the aged face of his dear friend, Jamie McCrimmon.

The Doctor rushed over and stared at the face in the glass. To his shock, the face looked back at him. Hands pressed against the surface, one silent word emerged from the clone's lips: Doctor.

"Jamie!" he gasped. "Jamie, hold on. I'm going to get you out of there."

The Doctor ran back to the control console. His gestures frantic, he soon got Jamie's globe opened and lowered to the ground. Then he sprinted back to where he had found the piper and carefully helped Jamie out of his confinement.

"Doctor," Jamie said, his voice quavering. "Ye came. Ye finally found me. I, I was starting to think ye'd ne'er come."

The Doctor did his absolute best to beam at him while his mind tried to figure out how this was possible. Then it suddenly occurred to him. That previous mission, he had had Jamie with him. He recalled Jamie complaining about one of his fingers being pricked and there was that security gate the piper had gone through so as to distract the guards while the Doctor snuck into the building.

How could he have been so careless?

The Doctor understood now. This Jamie was a clone, the latest in a series that probably spanned centuries, each one of the living up to a year at the most. A clone that had all of Jamie's knowledge and memories up to that time when he had come here as part of a CIA mission. The Doctor did not know how he had missed Jamie's file in the records, but he would find it and make sure that no one else would ever see it again.

Including the Time Lords.

Jamie, unaccustomed to walking freely, stumbled to the ground almost as soon as he had made it to his feet. The Doctor caught him before he could hit the floor and held him in his lap. He caught glimpses of countless needle marks on Jamie's arms and had to use every ounce of willpower he had to remain smiling.

"I thought I was seein' things again when I saw ye," Jamie continued. "The stuff they give me…it makes me see all sorts of strange things. I, I cannae hardly believe ye're really here."

"Well I can assure you that I most certainly am here, Jamie," the Doctor said, stroking Jamie's dull, grey hair. "And now, I'm going to get you away from this place."

Tears of gratitude shone in Jamie's eyes even as he grinned in response. The Doctor helped him to his feet and had practically dragged Jamie out of the lab. He only stopped to finish his assigned mission and to seek out and destroy the samples that had been used to create Jamie's clone.

There would not be another one.

Minutes later, they were on the TARDIS with Jamie resting heavily in one of the chairs in the console room. The Doctor could sense the telepathic signals ordering him back to Gallifrey, but he ignored them. The summons grew even more insistent, but he would not pay them any heed.

Not until he was finished with the matters at hand.

"Doctor," Jamie groaned. "I'm so tired."

The Doctor smiled sympathetically and walked over to rub the piper's back. He had seen the vital signs meters on the control panel. Even though the drug experiments had weakened him to the point of death, it was old age that was killing this clone of Jamie. He had hours, maybe a day at the most, left to live.

"I know," the Doctor murmured. "That's why I'm taking you home, Jamie."

"To Scotland?" Jamie asked. The Doctor nodded. "No. Please. Let me stay wit' ye Doctor."

Fresh tears welled up in the piper's eyes and the Doctor crouched down in front of him.

"Don't worry," the Doctor said. "I'll stay with you."

"Ye will? But…what about the Time Lords, and, and the CIA. Doctor, they'll…."

"Jamie, it will be all right," the Doctor insisted as he enveloped Jamie into an embrace. "I'm going to stay with you. For however long you need."

They arrived on the moors just as the sun was beginning to rise. Jamie had deteriorated so much, the Doctor had to carry him out of the TARDIS. Once they were outside, the Doctor found a spot that gave a spectacular view of the scenery and gently lowered him to the ground.

"I dinna think I'd ever see this again," Jamie said, his expression content. "Jes look at that sunrise."

"Yes, it is beautiful," the Doctor said as he sat down beside him.

Jamie shivered and leaned back to rest against the Doctor's chest. The Doctor put his arms around him and held him close.

"Doctor, I…I really did wonder if ye would ever come," Jamie said quietly. "All that time, all those potions they kept pumping into me…I thought it was ne'er goin' to end. I…I was angry at ye sometimes and I, I thought that mebbe ye forgot aboot me. It had been so long. So long I waited. It was like ye dinna even ken I was here."

The Doctor closed his eyes. Months would have been like decades to this clone of Jamie and he wondered how many of these clones lived and died in horrible ways in that abomination of a laboratory. That question would haunt him for the rest of his lives.

Jamie shuddered, his skin too cold. The Doctor refused to tell his friend the truth about his being a clone and that he had only just learned of his existence. This Jamie had suffered too much already. There was no reason to add to his torment, not when he was so close to death.

"Jamie," the Doctor said. "I could never forget about you. I hope you know that. No matter how long it takes or how many battles I have to fight, I would never give up on you."

"Doctor…ye don' have to pretend," Jamie said, his voice soft and somber.

"Pretend? I don't understand what you mean by…."

"I know," Jamie interrupted. "I know that I'm nae real. I heard a couple of those scientists talk aboot it once when they thought I was sleeping. I'm jes a copy of the real Jamie McCrimmon."

"Jamie, listen to me," the Doctor said, turning the piper around to face him. "You are as real as me or anyone else in this universe. Just because they copied you from another person does not make your life any less meaningful or valuable."

Jamie stared at him silently for several minutes before leaning forward to hug him again.

"Thank ye, Doctor. Thank ye for that. For nae caring if I was real or nae."

The Doctor held him even closer as his own eyes grew wet. A part of him still wanted to protest Jamie's notion that he wasn't a real person, but he was aware that it was mainly a matter of semantics at this point.

"Doctor, could ye tell me one thing?" Jamie asked.

"What is it?"

"The other me, the real me," Jamie continued. "What is he doin' now? What happened to him?"

"He…you are back in Scotland these days," the Doctor answered. "You had a beautiful wife and several lovely children who are living with you on your estate."

"Ye mean, I don' see ye anymore?" Jamie asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Not…as often no," the Doctor said. "I stop by when I can, of course…."

"Did he…did I travel wit' ye after that whole thing that got me here?" Jamie inquired. "Did I stay wit' ye for a while longer?"

"Yes Jamie," the Doctor said, nearly choking on the words. "You stayed with me for many years. It wasn't always pleasant, as I know you can imagine with the wretched CIA looking over our shoulders most of the time. But, there were many happy moments, thanks to you."

A huge grin appeared on Jamie's face as he squeezed the Doctor again. The Doctor found himself grinning back, despite the way his hearts were breaking.

"Then, it's ok," Jamie said. "As long as he…I…did all that, it's ok."

"Jamie…."

"Doctor, listen," Jamie said. "I know that I have nae much longer. And I think ye ken what I'm feelin' tae. At least this version of ye anyway. We're both nearing the end. I…I'm jes asking for one favor. For me."

"Anything."

"I'm asking ye to go back and see me, the real me, one last time," Jamie said. "I know I won' care aboot where we end up goin' or how dangerous 'tis. Jes, let me have one last time wit' ye. Please, Doctor."

"All right, Jamie," the Doctor said. "I promise, I will do what you ask."

"Thank ye," Jamie smiled again. "And here I thought I'd have to argue wit' ye again, ye daft old man."

Both of them chuckled for almost a minute before Jamie shivered even more violently again. The Doctor took off his coat and wrapped it around the piper before holding him close again.

"Doctor," Jamie slurred. "I'm so cold…so tired…."

"Then rest, Jamie," the Doctor murmured. "I'll stay with you."

Jamie grinned one more time before his eyes slid shut and he slumped against the Doctor. A pair of tears slid down the Doctor's cheeks as he cradled him while watching the sun continue to rise.

An hour later, the Doctor realized that Jamie would not wake up again.

It was almost nightfall before the Doctor was ready to leave for Gallifrey.

After Jamie slipped away, the Doctor had made arrangements to bury him in an isolated area of the moors. He wrapped the piper's body in a winding sheet and placed a wooden plate onto his chest after lowering him down into his grave. Onto the plate went a handful of dirt, to represent this body which would eventually decay, and a handful of salt, to represent Jamie's soul which never would. The Doctor wished he could create a proper marker for this grave, but he could not allow even the remote possibility that Jamie or one of his relatives could stumble upon it.

Once he was done, the Doctor sang a song he had heard Jamie sing once at the funeral of one of his distant relatives. At the back of his mind, he thought about the consequences that were probably awaiting him back at Gallifrey, but right now he could not begin to care about them.

He had made a promise. And even if it was truly the last thing he would do, the Doctor would find a way to keep this promise.