A/N: My GOD, I think these episodes broke me. I watched Family of Blood, then watched it again, then wrote this in about five minutes because it literally wouldn't let me concentrate on anything else. Here's to hoping it's not crap.
He never blinked as he sent the Family of Blood to their final resting places. To the chains, to the stars, to the mirrors, to the fields. If they wanted immortality, he'd give it to them.
He used to have so much mercy. He used to know what mercy felt like. He'd thought he'd known what love felt like, too, and why he had to stay away from it. But he'd loved Joan, and expressed it, and lost it, and it hurt no more than it did to love someone and clamp down on it, shove it away, until there were no more last chances.
"She seems to disappear later on."
He walked away from the screams and the silence of the Family of Blood, manic mask firmly in place. (Because the Doctor is always all right, isn't he?)
Why should he have shown them any mercy?
Time never showed any to him.