You Take the High Road
Warning: This isn't exactly a happy story. If it upsets you, talk to me about it, if you like.
Warning: "Spoilers." - River Song
Takes place just after "Doomsday"
The Doctor stood inside his TARDIS. He stood and looked at his ship: Bigger on the inside than it was on the outside. Outfitted with the most powerful technology in the universe. Capable of taking him through all of space and time.
And empty.
The Doctor walked further inside, his footsteps on the floor's metal grating taunting him as his exceptional perception heard it echo throughout the room and the halls beyond. He took off his long, brown coat and threw it over one of the ship's misshapen pillars. He walked up to the circular control console in the centre of the room, surrounding a glass pillar. He lovingly stroked the console while looking over every button, gauge and lever, searching in vain for something from his old, metal friend; comfort, solace, companionship.
But, even though the TARDIS was alive, listened to every word he said, she was no companion. No one that he could talk to, laugh with... or love.
He caught a glimpse of himself reflected off of the glass pillar. The look on his young face was that of a man who had just lost something precious and hated himself for letting it happen, but would not cry because he it an almost typical feeling. Then a glimmer of disgust crossed those features and he looked down, blocking the reflection with his spiky fringe.
The Time Lord clenched his eyes shut and braced himself on the console. As a swath of destructive emotions intruded into his head, they also appeared as words in his mind, 'Again. It happened again. Why? It's not fair!' His fists clenched around whichever of TARDIS' instruments got in his way. 'I take them everywhere they could possibly want to go! Show them things they never imagined even existed! We do so much together! And always, always they leave! While I have to stay behind. And now...'
His knees and elbows began to shake, struggling to support him as so many years of pain pulled him down. And he could feel it all. Loss. Grief. Shame. Guilt. Every painful moment of his very long life threatened to break past his barriers and run down his face.
With all of his strength fading from him, he could only utter one thing, "Rose... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
He snapped his eyes open. His breathing became stronger, desperate. This, all of this... He would not have it.
The Doctor began to press the buttons, adjust the gauges and pull the levers. If the TARDIS would not comfort his pain, then it would take him away from it.
The mechanism inside the glass pillar began to piston up and down, accompanied by the Doctor's favourite whirring noise. He focused on that noise while he rapidly moved around the console, hitting controls with whatever limb could reach as the TARDIS shook.
The Doctor desperately drove his ship through the Time Vortex; no need for complicated coordinates. Where and when he ended up did not matter, just so long as he got away.
As the whirring noise became higher and higher, the Doctor hit one last button. He nearly lost his footing as the TARDIS' flight came to sudden stop with a loud boom.
As he regained his balance, the Doctor paused as he realised something: he had just sent himself to a completely random place in the Earth's history. He turned his head to look at the exit, beyond which could be anything on his favourite planet.
He grinned; that would do perfectly.
He pushed off the console and jogged for the exit, giddy as a child. He grabbed his coat and threw it on on the way. He threw the doors open, and was taken aback to see that he had landed in the middle of a forest. But he noticed a small break in the trees not far ahead, about waist-height and through which he could see daylight.
He left the TARDIS, closing the doors as he did. He ducked and shoved through the flora in his way, frustrated at their attempts to keep him from his goal. He reached the break in the trees and prepared to rip it open.
Beyond this leafy barrier would hopefully lie something for him to sink his mental teeth into, take him away from his troubles. The troubles he had been trying to get away from for what felt like forever.
That thought made the Doctor pause. He thought over that fact. He had always been running. Ever since he first stole the TARDIS all those years ago. Why?
The question hung in his mind, begging to be answered.
He looked at the break in the trees; the most beautiful of sirens.
The Doctor hesitated.
The Time Lord ripped open the break and revealed to himself one of the many reasons he loved this planet so much: a countryside of lush green grass and trees as far as the eye could see. He could see rich, flowing rivers and rolling hills all over. The sky was its ever-magnificent blue with fluffy clouds throughout. This sight enraptured him, giving his mind new focus, and something to smile about.
His brain then went to work. He stuck out his tongue for a moment: 'Can't taste much pollution in the air, must be pre-industrial revolution. Hilly country, coniferous forest and,' with a lick of his finger, 'a brisk cold. This must be-'
The sound of strained wood derailed his train of thought. He slowly turned around, and found himself face-to-arrow with several burly-looking, unshaven men in raggedy clothing positioned along the tree-line, each with a bow-and-arrow ready to perforate him.
The Doctor slowly raised his hands, not wanting to start a fight - or be on the wrong end of a hail of arrows, for that matter. Still in an analytical mood, he took in what he was seeing: 'Before sewing machines and before guns. Blimey, I must have went back quite a bit.'
One of the men spoke in an accented voice, "Who are you, stranger? And what do you think yer doing out here?"
The Doctor smirked a bit, 'Scotland again, I thought so.' The Doctor played it safe and put on a local accent. "Mah name is... Conner MacLeod. Ah'm just here for a bit of sight-seeing."
The men looked somewhat perplexed at this, "'MacLeod'? What are you doing this far South?"
"Well, ah'm a bit of a hermit. Ah've been wanderin' for a while; where am I, exactly?"
"We're aboot a day's walk from Stirling."
With that, the pieces started to fit together in the Doctor's mind: a group of armed locals in medieval Scotland on their way to Stirling? He had a sneaking suspicion about when he had landed, "And what's the date?"
"Year of our Lord 1297, September 10th."
The Doctor all at once became excited and on high alert; he was right: 'The Battle of Stiling Bridge.'
A few minutes later, the Doctor was being escorted at sword point by the Scotsmen through the forest, his coat - and thus his many useful gadgets - confiscated.
As he walked, the Doctor was deep in thought: 'September 10th 1297, the First Scottish War of Independence. Tomorrow this lot are going to be fighting off an English army and give the Scots the morale boost they need to win.'
The Doctor looked up as one of his escorts announced their arrival. He looked to see that they were approaching a much larger contingent of Scotsmen. They were gathered in a makeshift camp in a clearer part of the forest. As he walked through, the Doctor looked around: he saw some men closely examining their swords to make sure they were ready for a fight, others were gathered around boiling pots or fires to eat and keep up their spirits, while other men were congregated or sat by themselves to pray for safety.
A smirk found its way onto the Doctor's face. He may have hated violence, but all the same, these men were rebelling against a power that was larger, more experienced, more feared and had greater resources, and they were doing well. He felt a swell of admiration; these men were an embodiment of that indomitable human spirit he loved so much. And tomorrow, they would make sure that the world would forever remember that, all thanks to-
The Doctor mentally froze. His smirk turned into an ear-to-ear grin as it hit him: 'No. No way, you are kidding me. Oh, time, I bloody love you.' He had to struggle to keep from running around the campsite in search. Impatiently, he kept pace with his escorts, looking around to look for his target, until finally...
"William!" The lead escort called out.
The Doctor whirled back to face the front. He looked over the lead's shoulder to see they were approaching a few men gathered around a map on the ground, probably discussing tactics. He became more giddy than ever, almost bouncing on the spot as his excitement grew.
The men around the map had turned when the lead called out. The Doctor noticed one in particular: tall, scruffy beard, muscular and at his feet lay the handle of a massive claymore. The Doctor looked at the sword for a moment in awe, knowing the journey the it would take after the war. Then he focused on its owner.
The lead escort spoke to the man. "William," he started, addressing the man with a respectful familiarity, "We found this stranger just past the forest while we were on patrol." The man looked at the Doctor, examining him. The lead escort continued, "He claims he's a MacLeod." The man raised an unconvinced eyebrow at that. "We took this when we searched him," The lead escort said, handing over the Doctor's coat, "There are a lot of strange things inside, but no weapons, as far as we can tell." The man stood up to his full height, all 7 feet, and took the coat.
Seeing the man's great height, the Doctor was almost certain of who he was looking at, but his situation required that he restrain himself. Though, God knows, he was finding that difficult.
The man unfurled the Doctor's coat and began looking through the pockets. By the time he had examined the Doctor's sonic screwdriver and stuffed it into his belt, the Doctor's curiosity was practically burning him. Treading lightly, he asked the man, "Ehm, if ya don't mind mah asking..." The man and his comrades looked to the Doctor. "Are you William Wallace?"
"Aye, that ah am."
The Doctor could contain neither his grin nor the outburst that followed, "Oh, my giddy aunt! THE William Wallace, rebel co-commander, natural-born leader and a patriot if ever there was one!" Having caught everyone by surprise, the Doctor was able to bound forward and vigourously shake Wallace's hand. "Oh, this is brilliant! I mean, I can't say I approve of your methods, but all the same, I have the deepest respect for a man who is able to not only stand up and say 'no' to the English-bloody-empire, but also stop them in their tracks."
With his geeky rant over, everyone around the Doctor stared at him, confused and bewildered. Although the Doctor was used to that, he noticed that there was something different about this particular awkward silence. Talking a look around, he noticed that every man within earshot was looking at him with expressions ranging from flabbergasted to enraged, and that some of them either had a hand on their sword or had it drawn. That is when the Doctor realised something: he forget to put on his Scottish accent during that rant.
"Oh, bugger."
The Doctor was pulled forward with a force that nearly dislocated his shoulder, then was smacked to the ground by what felt like a brick wall. He had just been shoulder-bashed by William Wallace.
More than a little disoriented, the Doctor did not gain his senses until he saw Wallace's claymore pointed at his neck. Just in time to properly feel the giant's foot pin him to the ground and knock a good amount a wind out of him.
"Longshanks' standard in assassins has certainly dropped," Wallace mocked, "Now why don't you make yourself useful and tell us the state that London is in these days, before I just decide to send your head back in a basket."
With a struggling, pained voice, the Doctor desperately pleaded, "Wait, wait! I'm not an assassin! I'm not with King Edward!"
Obviously unconvinced and apparently not in the mood for games, Wallace simply responded with, "Head in a basket, it is then." He raised his massive sword for the killing blow-
-when the entire camp heard a great boom from deeper in the forest, drawing their attention.
The Doctor heard it too, and straight away he was worried. Not because William Wallace was still considering chopping his head off, but because he knew that there were no cannons or explosives used during the Battle of Stirling bridge. So what was that?
The campsite went into an uproar, all of the confused and on-alert warriors asking what the sound was and drawing their weapons in anticipation of an attack. Wallace quickly stopped this, however, stabbing his sword into the ground and letting out a great bellow of, "QUIET!", that echoed off of the forest trees. Everyone, even the Doctor, was put into an attentive silence by his command.
Wallace then addressed his soldiers in a proper leader's tone, calming the men down and getting them prepared to defend themselves. Meanwhile, he organised a small group to find the source of the noise.
All the while, the Doctor looked on in admiration as Wallace took control of the situation and made sure his men were ready for anything, like a true leader. If this strong-willed, intelligent man was in charge, he felt all but assured that he did not have to worry about the outcome of the battle, with or without something interfering.
One of the men approached Wallace, a concerned look on his face, "William," He started, getting his leader's attention, "What if the English made that noise, purposefully. Maybe they want you investigate so they can trap you."
Wallace considered this. When his gaze wandered back down to the Doctor, still pinned under his foot, he smirked. Said Time Lord got a very bad feeling about what was about to happen.
Within a few minutes, the Doctor was being led at sword-point through the forest. Wallace had figured that if the noise was a trap, then the "English assassin" would make for a good hostage, or at least a good shield. The men had gotten a good laugh out of that.
So the Doctor walked through the forest with a dozen battle-hardened Scotsmen behind him, shoving him if he ever slowed down. While he should have felt scared, or at least begrudged, he honestly felt more thrilled than anything; he not only had no clue what was going on, but he had just met William Wallace. And he was everything the Doctor could have expected, and more: commanding, brave, intelligent and charismatic. He knew that Rose would be just as ecstatic, while also thinking of a million different ways she could get him to shout "Freedom". The Doctor chuckled at that.
Then he remembered. Rose was not here. She could never be here.
The Doctor's melancholy opened up, like a trap for him to fall into. He slowed down for a moment, earning him a harsh shove in the shoulder which made him pick up his pace. His thoughts just would not go away, so he looked for something that would let him push them away.
"Tell me, English," The Doctor heard beside him, looking to see that Wallace was walking beside him, "You are younger than I, yet you have the look of a man who has seen things even worse than what this war has shown me." This did not exactly help the Doctor's mood, but he kept listening, if only for the distraction. "Why is someone like yourself working for Longshanks?"
The Time Lord sighed, feeling a rare moment of frustration, before replying, "I told you, I don't work for him."
Wallace observed him for a moment. The Doctor could see that he was starting to convince the Scotsman. Before continuing, Wallace got two men from the group to take point, allowing the pair to properly talk.
"Then who are you?" Wallace asked.
"I'm the Doctor."
"... 'Doctor' who?"
"Just 'the Doctor'." Said Time Lord then turned away, in no mood to be questioned about his choice of name. Wallace, however, was not done.
"So why are you here, Doctor?"
Still frustrated, the Doctor did not bother with any clever lies, "Exploring."
"In the middle of a war?"
"It was a random trip."
"What could possibly drive you to be so reckless?"
The Time Lord glared at Wallace, with a look that contained so many ages of hardship it made the 7-foot rebel leader reel back in fear.
"Call it an escape."
Wallace took a few moments to compose himself before hesitantly asking, "From what?"
The Doctor stared for a moment longer before turning away and focusing on the ground as he kept walking.
Wallace watched the Time Lord in fearful awe. He looked as though he may press the issue, scared as he was, but then the men in front called out for him.
The Doctor looked towards the men, just noticing an acrid smell that he had missed while talking. The group stopped and he looked ahead to see the two standing in front of a bunch of trees that had collapsed onto a small hill. The Doctor quickly took in the scene: the ground was damaged as if impacted, some of the trees were scorched and slightly smoking and that acrid smell was very strong. He looked up and saw that the broken trees that were still standing lead to a point where something had punched through the canopy. Seeing the familiar signs, the Doctor came to his conclusion: something had fallen from the sky - possibly the atmosphere- and crashed into the ground and was now trapped beneath the trees.
He was about to take a closer look, but Wallace held him back, still not trusting him. Wallace placed a guard on the Doctor before he took the rest of the group to investigate the fallen trees.
The Doctor did not like this; an unknown object falls from the sky despite no historical records of such a thing, an important historical figure pokes his nose around it when he is still needed, the TARDIS brings him to this place - not always a good sign - and he did not even have his sonic screwdriver.
Usually, the Doctor liked not knowing what was going to happen, it kept him on his toes. But this was different. 'This is a fixed point in time,' He thought to himself, trying to figure things out. 'Stirling Bridge has to happen to give the rebels the morale boost they need to keep fighting. If something happens, time could be damaged. If it was in flux it would make sense that something new pops up, but under these circumstances, something like this this can't just happen out of nowhere.' He started to shift between running his hand through his hair and stroking a non-existent beard, willing his brain to work. 'Think, think, think, think, think, what can make a fixed event change? Foreknowledge, interference...' The solution was on the tip of his tongue. "Time travel!" He shouted out loud, making everyone jump and look at him strangely, as he was want to do when he figured something out. His excitement quickly turned to embarrassment when he realised that. "Sorry, sorry everyone. Just thinking." The group went back to the trees, beginning to shift some of them. The Doctor went back to thinking, 'So, if this was caused by a time traveller, then who is it? It's too small to be any ship I know of. It's obviously not a person with a vortex manipulator. So what else can travel through time, is that compact and can survive atmospheric re-entry?'
The Doctor thought as hard as he could. He had to figure it out because he knew that anything advanced enough for time travel could be dangerous. As the group began removing a tree from the pile, a noise hit the Doctor's ears: a mechanical whirring. Was a door opening? Could it really be a small ship? And then he heard another noise, and it made his gut twist. It was muffled and he could not make it out, but it was definitely a harsh and dreadfully familiar robotic voice.
Compact. Durable. Time travel. Mechanical. Robotic voice. He did not want to believe it, he instantly denied the possibility, but he was in no position to take the risk.
"Get away from there!" He desperately shouted as he tried to pull the nearest man out of danger. But he was quickly stopped by his guard and pushed to his knees.
The men turned to see this. Wallace directed them to continue. "What do you think you're doing?" He demanded of the Doctor.
The Doctor tried to get back to his feet, but the guard shoved him back down and put his sword to the Doctor's back, keeping him in place. "Listen to me," the Doctor begged, "You're all in serious danger. That thing under there is going to kill you all if you let it out."
"What are you on about?"
The Doctor was about to continue, but he noticed something being exposed as the men removed the tree: a row of small, golden spheres.
A bolt of lightening went through the Doctor's hearts. Now he knew it for a fact. And the man who has stared countless monstrosities in the face and then defeated them, the man who has seen planets and species destroyed, the man who has already died more times than he could count, was afraid for his life and lives of every person not just around him, but on the entire planet.
He forgot begging and explaining, he just began to shout, "Stop! Get away before it gets loose!"
Wallace looked alarmed at this behaviour, but he did not relent so easily. "What is it, Doctor?"
He was about to tell Wallace, but the Doctor was stopped when a large tree hit the ground and one of the group called out that they had uncovered something. Before the Doctor could tell him to move away, he heard the voice again. However this time it was terrifyingly clear.
"IN-TELLIGENT LIFE-FORM LO-CATED!"
Quicker than the man could even scream, a black object shot out and stretched around his entire face. While it muffled the man's screams, the object began to contract, crushing the man's skull while making a strange, digital-style noise.
The other men ran over to help their comrade, trying to pry him away, but the object would not release.
The Doctor looked on, his breathing rapid and heavy as he sat helpless and horrified as the man was killed torturously slowly. And by a creature that should not exist. Could not exist.
The men pulling at the victim failed to notice that his screaming had already stopped by the time they fell backwards into the ground when the object suddenly let go. They quickly went to inspect their friend, and were greeted by the site of his charred, dead face.
"BRAIN WAVES EX-TRACTED!" Shouted the robotic voice again, anger the only emotion discernible in its tone. "IN-FOR-MATION EX-TRA-POLA-TED! LO-CATION: EARTH! WEAPONS PRIMED! MUL-TIPLE LIFE-FORMS DE-TECTED!"
The Doctor's breathing stopped and his hearts each skipped a beat in horror; he knew what came next, so he did the only thing he could:
"Run!"
"EX-TER-MINATE!"
The trees exploded in a blast of heat and shards of wood, knocking everyone to the ground.
The Doctor was dazed and deafened by the explosion. He knew he had to get up and help the men, but his body would not respond. He could not think. But he was quickly awakened by a screeching noise and a blood-curling scream, both of which, to the Doctor, were synonymous with death.
The Doctor shot up to his feet, fully alert. He was ready to leap into action, but was frozen by a sight he had hoped countless times to never see again: standing in front of him was a six-foot tall, golden-brown, bell-shaped machine. Though it looked worse for wear, with its colour worn, several scorch-marks, dents and scratches, he knew it was still un-Godly dangerous. Its wide, bottom half was dotted with those golden spheres, though many were missing, leaving empty holes. From its mid-section, two dirty, silver poles extended like arms, the right one capped with the black object - a hollow half-sphere. Large gratings exposed smooth, black machinery underneath its domed head, though some was melted away, exposing sensitive systems. It looked around with a dented stalk protruding from the front of its head, capped by a black device with a blue light, it's eye. A light on its head lit up while a second, damaged one sparked, as it faced several of the men and shouted, "EX-TER-MINATE!"
With that hate-filled battle cry, a blue-white beam shot from its left arm, accompanied by the high-pitched screeching. It hit one of the men, warping the light around him until the colours were inverted, exposing his skeleton and ultimately killing him as he screamed.
The machine continued its own angered screaming as it attacked the men. The Doctor was shocked that it was even here, but that was second in his mind to the safety of Wallace and his men. He thought and thought, desperately straining his brain for a solution. Only one idea came to him. It was the only possibility that existed.
"Oi, Dalek!"
At the mention of its name, the machine stopped mid-sentence and turned its eye towards the Doctor. The two stared at each other, silent. To the Doctor, it was like staring into hate, itself. He knew this thing: a near-emotionless creature inside metal shell, bred to think of itself as a member of a master race, that would kill anything and everything that was different - anything it hated - if given the chance. And it should not be alive. He sent them all into a literal oblivion, even they could not survive it for too long. He was forced to kill them in order to save everything else. And it cost him Rose. And now this thing was here, killing again. And as far as the Doctor was concerned, that rendered Rose's loss pointless.
The Doctor was enraged. The fury of a Time Lord ran though him. People have died when that happens.
The silence was broken when the Dalek shouted once again, "SCANS REVEAL BI-NARY VAS-CULAR SYS-TEM! YOU ARE A TIME LORD! AN E-NEMY OF THE DA-LEKS!"
"That I am." The Doctor began, disgust envenoming his every word. "But I'm not just any Time Lord. I'm the last of the Time Lords. And if you took a closer look, I'm sure you'd figure out just which one I am."
The Dalek stood still and silent; the Doctor guessed it was doing as he suggested. With valuable time gained, he looked to Wallace and his men, who were still reeling from the attack. He mouthed the word "Run" and desperately gestured for them to leave. Wallace looked at the Dalek for a moment, clearly uncomprehending of what it was, but knowing well enough that they should retreat. He commanded his men to return to the camp and fortify in case the Dalek followed. They ran off. Wallace looked back at the Doctor, concern on his face. The Time Lord nodded towards him, as both confirmation that he should leave him behind, and as goodbye, which the rebel leader returned. Wallace followed his men.
"SCAN COM-PLE-TED!" The Dalek shouted, regaining the Doctor's attention. "ID-ENTIFY-ING!"
The Doctor smirked; he always loved what came next.
The Dalek reeled back in fear, an emotion it supposedly did not have. The Doctor's smirk turned into a pleased smile. "That's right," He began, tauntingly, "The on-coming storm, himself."
"YOU ARE THE DOC-TOR! YOU ARE THE DA-LEK'S GREA-TEST E-NEMY!"
"Yeah, that's me."
"YOU MUST BE EX-TER-MINATED!" The Dalek raised its gun, ready to fire.
"The Time War."
The Dalek froze. Now the Doctor had the advantage: information. Although, it always tore at him to relive this particular knowledge. But, he had to buy time for Wallace and his men to regroup; this Dalek was damaged, so they might have a snowball's chance in Hell of destroying it. More than enough for humanity, he knew.
"You weren't there when it ended, you were locked up in a prison ship," The Time Lord continued, tauntingly, "I was. Don't you want to know what happened?"
The Dalek hesitated; the Time War was the most bloody and destructive conflict in the history of the universe, Both sides suffered greatly. Maybe it did not want to know how it ended. But the Doctor continued anyway. If he was going to die here, he would let this piece of filth know every horrifying detail.
He began walking, methodically circling the Dalek, which rotated its head to follow him with its eye. "In the very first year, Davros, your lord and creator, flew into the jaws of the Nightmare Child and died." The Dalek stopped rotating its head, frozen by the revelation, as if instantly traumatised. This made the Doctor smile. He continued, "And then there's the millions of Daleks you shared a prison ship with, not to mention the Cult of Skaro." The name caught the Dalek's attention, as it began following him again. "I sent all of them into the Void. And there is nothing in there for them to survive on. They'll starve, die and decay into nothing." The Dalek stopped once again, struck by the information, once again. The Doctor almost grinned, feeing so much satisfaction. "And lest we forget," He continued, farcically, "The very end of the war: the death of the Gallifrey and the Time Lords, and Skaro and the Daleks." The Doctor watched the Dalek closely in anticipation, waiting for a reaction. Eventually, the Dalek slowly lowered its eyestalk, as if lowering its head in sorrow.
Usually, when the Time Lord recounted the the worst act he had ever committed, he felt regret, shame, self-loathing and bitter loneliness. This time, however, it made his worst enemy feel those emotions, instead. Giving him the chance to revel in its misery.
Before he could, though, he wanted to hear it from the Dalek.
"How does it feel, then?"
The Dalek was silent.
The Time Lord did not want silence, he wanted to hear the Dalek say it. Impatiently, he marched up to the Dalek, grabbed its eyepiece and forced it to look him in the eye as he screamed in rage, "Tell me!"
"It... huuuuurts."
The Doctor's eyes widened. Instantly, his fury was replaced by horror and regret. He let go of the Dalek and stumbled backwards until he was leaning against a tree.
'What did I just do?' He thought to himself, reliving the last few minutes with sheer horror. 'I just shattered the thing's world, broke its heart...' The Doctor's hearts sank as he realised, 'I made it... feel like me.' The Doctor sank down the tree and fell to his knees. 'And I enjoyed it.'
He looked at the Dalek. Normally where he saw a hate-filled monstrosity, he saw a living creature in torment, in need of help. Because of him. And it tore him up, inside. Even being a time traveller, he knew he could not take back what he said. That feeling of being so close but so far tortured and mocked him now, as it always did.
The Doctor did the only thing he could, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
The Dalek slowly, methodically, raised its dented eyestalk to glare at him. The Doctor could practically feel the anger and hate radiating off of it. And this time, the hatred of a Dalek was justified.
The Dalek spoke once more. "Exterminate."
The Doctor knew what would happen now. And he knew that he deserved it.
"Ex-ter-minate!"
More than anyone in the universe, this was something that he has had coming to him for a long time.
"EX-TER-MINAAAAATE!"
But Rose would not want that.
He rolled across the ground, narrowly avoiding the Dalek's beam, which shattered the bottom of the tree.
He got to his feet and began to run, but could only shout in pain as something slammed into his back and pushed him to the ground.
The Doctor immediately tried to free himself but was unsuccessful. He felt a solid, heavy object pressing into his back and he could see leaves in his peripheral vision; the tree the Dalek blasted had fallen over and one of it's branches was pinning him to the ground.
Vain as it was, he desperately clawed at the ground to pull himself free. He could hear the Dalek approaching from behind, and that made him try until it hurt. He still failed.
He saw the Dalek's bell-bottom beside him. He heard its gun's mechanism as it aimed it at him. He was too late
He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry Rose."
A great shout was heard. Followed by the violent clash of metal and eruption of sparks. The Doctor heard the Dalek shout, "ALERT! VI-SION IMPAIRED! VI-SION IMPAIRED!"
The Doctor snapped open his eyes. He could make out the Dalek spinning and backing away while shouting in a panicked state. He spotted a massive sword lodged diagonally in the ground before he heard a groan of effort and the branch was lifted from his back, giving him the space he needed to crawl out, the branch dropped behind him.
He got to his feet and turned to look at the Dalek. Its damaged eyestalk had been broken off and it's eye was lying in the dirt while the part of the the stalk still attached bled sparks. He turned again to see his saviour: William Wallace.
"Come, Doctor, we need to go!" He shouted, hurriedly, as he ran, pulling the Doctor along.
"Wait, wait!" The Doctor called out, this new development inspiring his brain to think of a solution. He looked and found that Wallace still had his sonic screwdriver tucked into his belt. He grabbed it and, despite Wallace's concerned protests, ran towards the still-panicking Dalek.
Apparently hearing the approaching Doctor's footsteps, it turned towards him and screamed, "KEEP AWAY FROM ME!" It fired a shot that the Doctor weaved to avoid. The Doctor launched himself onto the damaged Dalek, screwdriver in hand.
The Dalek began panicking even more, shaking around and shooting its beam at random. The Doctor struggled to hold on and pointed his screwdriver into the exposed machinery under the Dalek's head and pressed the button. Above the noise of the Dalek's beam and the buzzing of the sonic, he heard a yell. He snapped his head around to see that Wallace had been knocked away by the explosion of a tree that the Dalek had blasted. He went into full alert; Wallace had to live. If the Dalek killed him it could dangerously alter history, maybe even re-write a fixed event and damage time. The Time Lord turned back to the machine, extended his screwdriver for maximum power and dug deep into the Dalek's circuitry.
"SYS-TEMS ARE UN-DER A- TTACK!" The creature screamed. "COUN-TER-MEASURES DA-MAGED!"
The Doctor tensed his tongue in concentration. "Come on, come on!" He shouted at the machinery, as if it would make it submit faster.
The Dalek continued to shoot around in panic. Wallace was thrown around again as a beam exploded in the ground near him. The Doctor turned as he heard this. He paused; a person is going to get killed if he cannot do something. The Doctor considered his options, 'The circuits protecting the arms are still intact, I can't shut off its gun!' He clung tightly to the shell as the Dalek tried to fling him off. The sudden jolt gave the Doctor's brain a kick-start and he came up with a solution. And he did not like it.
"SEN-SORS DE-TECT LIFE-FORM A-HEAD!"
The Doctor felt a pang of panic; it can only mean Wallace. No choice now. The Time Lord dug his screwdriver into a specific part of the machine's circuitry, a look of anger and sorrow on his face.
The Dalek oriented itself to face Wallace, gun at the ready. The Scotsman looked at the creature. On instinct, though he was disoriented, he reached for his sword to meet the attack.
"EX-TER-MINA-" The Dalek froze mid-battle cry. Its circuitry sparked. An alarm sounded.
"SELF-DESTRUCT INITIA-TED!"
The Doctor threw himself off of the Dalek. "Run!" He shouted at Wallace, sprinting away from the creature and towards the Scotsman.
"SELF-DESTRUCT CAN-NOT BE COUN-TER-MANDED!" The Dalek shouted, "SEN-SORS DE-TECT TIME LORD A-HEAD! E-LE-VATE!"
The Doctor grabbed Wallace and pulled him to his feet. They looked back briefly to see the Dalek levitating off the ground before it flew towards them, gun raised. The two sprinted through the forest to escape the creature, which took several shots at them as it shouted, over and over with the strongest hatred, "EX-TER-MINATE!"
And the Doctor ran. He heard the Dalek flying behind him, but he did not look back. Nothing could block the Dalek's path, so he did not think of any clever plans.
He just ran. Hearts beating in his ears. Adrenaline fuelling his legs. Excitement overriding his every thought and feeling. Just like always.
The Dalek let out one final scream of loathing, "EX-TER-MINAAAAAAAATE!" Then its deafening, red-hot self-destruct flung the Doctor and William Wallace over the forest floor and into the dirt many metres away.
The Doctor lied on the forest floor, dazed but alive. His mind was just as disoriented. He lay still for a moment, for once, desperate for a rest. However, beyond the buzzing in his ears, he heard a muffled noise. Try as he might, he could not reign in his senses and make it out. That was, until something wedged itself underneath his gut and flipped him onto his back. Then he was very much alert.
He saw Wallace standing above him, a smile on his face. A smile that the Doctor found infecting himself.
The Doctor got to his feet, filled with the familiar relief that came from feeling so very alive. He saw the same joy all over Wallace's face, and that added so much to his own. The two shared a celebratory hug and a hearty laugh.
Some time later, the Doctor stood outside his TARDIS, coat returned and shaking hands with William Wallace.
"Thank you very much, my friend," The Scotsman said with appreciation and respect. "Ah know not how mah men would have handled my death right before a battle. I know for a fact that many of them look up to me."
"And I'm right there with them," The Doctor cheerfully relied. "It was brilliant meeting you, Sir William."
Wallace's smile disappeared, replaced by a confused look. "'Sir'?"
The Doctor retracted his hand in mild panic, grimacing at his mistake. "Oh, right, not yet."
Wallace still looked bemused, but the Doctor quickly changed the topic. "Anyway, good luck with the war, and all. You go and show Longshanks why you don't invade bonnie ol' Scotland!" He said, enthusiastically.
"Rest assured, I will! I will regain FREEDOM for Scotland!" Wallace replied with even greater passion.
The Doctor smiled ear to ear, his every laugh line visible; he just made the real William Wallace shout 'freedom'. Laughing, he turned and unlocked the TARDIS door.
"But Doctor," Wallace began, getting the Time Lord's attention. "Where will you go and what will you do, with your... caravan?"
The Doctor looked the Scotsman in the eye, and smirked. "Anywhere. Anything."
The Doctor entered his TARDIS and closed the door. He removed his coat and threw it back over the wonky pillar. He walked over to the console, a spring in his step, reliving all the good he had just felt: he had seen a beautiful country, met William Wallace and had another blood-pumping adventure.
It was exactly what he had needed.
The Doctor stopped in his tracks just before the console. His joy was quickly pushed aside as that last though made him remember all the bad he had just felt: he had lost another companion, the Dalek's appearance rendered her loss pointless and he... tortured a living creature.
The Doctor stood in his TARDIS, completely still with a face filled with a kind of sorrow and self-loathing no one else in the universe could possibly feel. He looked at the TARDIS' console, looking over each button, gauge and lever. He approached the console and stroked the TARDIS once more, but still got no comfort in return. Once again, with his memories and feelings creeping up on him again, he felt such a weight on his shoulders. He lifted his head to look forwards, and caught his reflection in the console's glass pillar again. His face blatantly expressed the disgust he felt at looking at himself, but just as he was about to look away, he saw something that gave him a much-needed epiphany. He stared into the reflection to look over his shoulder and it made him realise: the space over his shoulder was empty. There was room to be filled.
He thought back. Many times in his life, he had gone too far because there was no one there to stop him, just like how he had acted with the Dalek. He then thought back to the moment right after he escaped the Dalek. At that moment, he had been reveling in excitement and relief, along with Wallace, and that had made it feel even better. And since that moment, not one painful thought had entered his head.
He stared at the space over his shoulder for a while. Then he smiled; there was space in the TARDIS for a new companion. He reached over and pulled a lever, sending the TARDIS into flight with its classic whirring noise. Like he told Wallace, the Doctor would go anywhere and do anything. But this time, he would be on the lookout for another person to do it with. And that would mean less regrets, more fun, and less remembering. And that was just what he needed.
Right?
Thank you for reading!
As always, please tell me WHATEVER you think this story. It's great to have feedback.
And if my story has gone and made you a bit depressed, do feel free to talk to me.
Doctor Who and all related names, characters and images owned by the British Broadcasting Company
The Daleks originally created by Terry Nation