Warnings: Introspection, Character Speculation, Angst, Dark!Fic, Spoilers for TNoTD
A/N: Written for who_contest's Prompt: Tell and is comprised of the usual overly thinky (dark, angsty) ramblings, too much speculation and a lack of proper tea. This one literally hit me out of the blue and was written in one go in under half an hour. So likely it is not as clever as I'd like to think it is. Sorry. No 'twist' on the prompt this time - tis rather all straight-forward. I dunno whether to be proud of my inner!Eleven or horrified that he really didn't put some more oomph in this. In the end, whether it is worth the time is up to you, dearest Readers. As always, mostly unbeta'd and written in one go, so please forgive any mistakes and/or blatant vagueness. I apologize for any repetition, misspellings, sentence fails, grammatical oh-noes and general horridness. Unbeta'd fic is overly-thinky/blithery and unbeta'd.
Disclaimer(s): I do not own the scrumptious Doctor or his lovely companions. That honor goes to the BBC and (for now) the fantastic S. Moffat. The only thing that belongs to me is this fiction - and I am making no profit. Only playing about!

"Say your name," Simeon hissed, his grip stronger than a human's, almost equal to a Time Lord's – his eyes deeper and madder than either race could even comprehend. This was the enemy of Old. He was a Vampire. He was a Shifter.

The man who called himself the Doctor was terrified.

He tried to shrug him off, but found it a struggle, those firm, gloved fingers –

Master…

not even sliding on his skin, Simeon's grip too tight, those eyes too deep.

He almost wanted to tell him. To show him that the Name he was born with

Not his True Name, no…not the Name he Named himself

was literally everywhere. It was etched into his flesh, strung along his muscles, pulsing from his eyes.

He was his Name.

But how does one explain that? And how would that save his friends?

His Name was not something that could be spoken, truth be told. It was only something that could be thought, could be felt. His 'Name' could take a thousand years to 'say' and mere seconds to think. His True Name was all he'd ever needed.

It was also safer than the Name he had been born to.

Doctor: the word for Healer, Wise Man

Killer, Beast, Oncoming Storm – The Destroyer of Worlds

Doctor was the Name he took upon himself as he nursed a birdling he'd found at his father's country estate back to health. Doctor was the Name he whispered to the first page of his Hundred Year Diary after he had spent all night talking Koschei through his latest nightmare

Filled with blood and pain and power – so terrifying and intoxicating and he was so, so young

assuring him that the horrors he had seen could not possibly be true – 'Just a dream, my dear Koschei…'

The Name he Named himself was all he'd ever needed. So it was ironic that the Name he'd been born into would be the Name that he'd also died to. Bitter irony. Like blood across the tongue.

The Name he'd sworn to never utter again.

He pulled from Simeon's grip with a full-body shudder, trying to not show how very afraid he was, even as his friends suffered agonies unspeakable at his very feet. He could end that agony. He could save them –

And rip reality apart.

Doctor or death-dealer? Either way, they would all die…

It was time to choose.