This is the fourth chapter! Thanks for all the reviews, as always, and I look foreword to your criticism. I tried to write the Doctor's thoughts as only semi-coherent, not sure if it worked. It's supposed to sort of portray his broken state of mind and how he has a bit of trouble formulating thoughts. Tell me if it worked! I also used random characters to represent Gallifreyan (£€££¥*~||\^€+*^) so just fill those in with the prettiest sound you can think of, like birdsong mixed with waves and water dripping and wonderful classical music (just a symphony of your favorite sounds, really) to try to maybe get an idea of what the language may have sounded like, as I didn't describe it well. Mostly because I don't know what it sounds like, but hey. I tried! After those characters, in parenthesis, I put the English translation, so to speak.

Disclaimer: I don't own nothing... (urg, my grammar)

'It was pitch black inside, but as the light began to pour into the box via the artificial lighting, Jack gasped. The Pandorica was open, and what it held was shocking.'

Inside the Pandorica sat a chair; cold, hard, and metallic, the chair was imposing and cruel with restraints on the armrests, legs, and back. Two or three small hypodermic needles hovered around the back, nearly touching the neck of what sat in the chair. "DOCTOR!" Jack shouted frantically, and a wild look of fear wove its way through the assembled soldiers. The Doctor? Within the Pandorica? The prison for the most dangerous creature in the Universe? What? Why?

"DOCTOR!" A voice called to him from the haze now clouding his mind. 'Who's this Doctor fellow you speak of, Mr. Disembodied Voice? Oh wait, that's me, isn't it? Hehe, yes, I'm the Doctor, and I fix things! Wait, no, not anymore... I broke everything, remember? Yes, of course I remember, cause I'm him, but not anymore. Ha, so that's my not-name, what's my name-name though, I can't seem to remember... so many names... but who's the name caller? Hack Jarkness? Nicky the Idiot? Maybe Aldric, or Ace, or even the Brigadier. Hmm.. I wonder... oh well, doesn't matter, their not even real, just the smudges of my memories fusing together to make me suffer, just as the Architect of the Shadow Proclamation devised.' The Doctor mused darkly, already too used to these types of hallucinations.

The only difference betwixt the hallucinations he'd had and the one he was having was that the images that usually followed such outbursts did not come. Instead, the shackles and clamps that fixed him to the chair began to loosen, and that confused him. Greatly. As the compression of his wrists vanished completely, he let out a gasp of pain at the sudden lower pressure and free blood circulation, followed by a content hum. Again, the voices called, cries of "Doctor, Doctor" and "wake up Doctor, please". He peeled open his eyes to the sight of a familiar yet unfamiliar face starring at him almost in hysterics.

"Oh, what's this? Which one are you, then? Ricky, or was it Nicky? Maybe Ace, or Ian, or Steven, or that Rory fellow? Maybe Major Hack Jarkness... or is that Colonel Mack Barkness? Hmm. I wonder. Any who, just crawl back to the memories you stitched yourselves from please, so I can get back to my stupor of sadness and partial unconsciousness, thankee much." He rambled in a whisper that seemed like a roar to his ears before closing his heavy lids once more.

"Doctor, please, open your eyes, this isn't - it can't be - it's not a dream, Doctor! Look, it's me, Jack Harkness, your immortal 51st century human, the one always spewing pheromones to get you to swing my way?" Jack joked lightly while his eyes pleaded silently, the banter in that description being just about the saddest joke he'd ever uttered. "Huh... Yeah, I remember you... the Wrong one, your the one who made me remember, that prickly feeling coming from your paradoxical fixed-but-not-fixed existence. Do kindly take care of that before you show up next, and stop shouting." The Doctor replied nonchalantly, voice still barely a whisper, not bothering to comply to the hallucinations pleas.

"Doctor, if you don't open your eyes now I'm gonna come up there and smack you!" A new voice declared with quiet gusto. "Oh, who're you then? Umm, Donna, no... Rose, maybe. Okay then, how about... Susan Foreman! Still not? Oh well, can't keep a thought in my head anyhow." The Time Lord mumbled in a trance, still not realizing that this was, in fact, happening in the physical world, or 'real life'. Suddenly there was a stinging pain on his cheek, along with a loud SMACK! and the Doctor's eyes shot open in fear.

None of his hallucinations had been this corporeal. Usually, he just re-felt what had happened to him in that memory, from the sharp pangs of sadness and emotional agony when loosing another companion, to the fear and hurt of his latest regeneration, the one that landed him in Mr. Fish-Fingers' body. This, well, this seemed a bit different. He never remembered such a slap before (though that one ginger, the older one, had come close - her name was Rose, right? Maybe Tyler... Jackie?), and he took in the scene before him anew.

The light was blinding, burning his sensitive eyes that had become so used to no light input at all, and they right smarted, they did. He squinted 'till he could only see a thin line of the image before him. "Oh, my... Is that what light is like? Mm, I kinda like the dark better so far. Now, who are you all?" The Doctor queried, generally curious.

The shocked look on their faces concerned him a bit, especially the look on the one who'd slapped him, but that only fueled his general confusion and desire for answers more. "I'll ask again, but who... are... you?" The Time Lord questioned once more, a bit slower as if trying to make sure he was understood. One of the many faces in front of him made a slight choking noise. "Well, I think it quite rude that you won't answer, and I hope that means you all are either mute or psychic, though I rule out the psychic part due to how you carry yourselves. I hope you lot-" the Doctor grumbled, a bit put off, before he began to almost trill and sing in a melodious language none in the galaxies had heard in over a century.

"Oh, god Jack- Jack he doesn't realize... Doctor, your not speaking English... That's Gallifreyan..." the female choked out, horrified, to the one who felt wrong, Jack, the Doctor concluded. "Hem hem, I hope you - £€¥£€•€^•£•€ (lot are intelligent enough to realize this) - but I'm standing right here!" The Doctor began to switch from that melodious language, Gallifrayen, without realizing. "So, Mr. Jack, was it? Yes, good. Excuse me for not knowing but, what year is it? I've realized that - *~*€¥€~£¥~££*}}^*%€¥ (this boxy thing blocks everything including my Time sense) - and therefore I don't know." " 2008." Jack whispered. "Ah, I see, or hear rather, 'cause I can't quite see sound, well I probably could if I wanted to, but I don't, so there. What year is it again?" The Doctor became turned around by his own trail of thought.

"2008." Jack said, stronger this time. "All righty, then. Let's see... 102 A.D. to 2008... 1,906 years in this box and in only just beginning to hallucinate corporeal beings... Hehehe, HA ha haha... I'm 2,840 years old, just about!" The Doctor gave a start and began to cackle like a madman, though the laughter didn't reach his eyes, not even close. Jack felt sick to his stomach. 'Almost two thousand years in that hole, no wonder he doesn't realize a thing!'

Then, quite suddenly, the Doctors eyes went wide and his pupils dilated alarmingly. "So much... noisesoundfeelingtouchsensoryinput- the swirl of the Vortex, the mixing of time streams... it hurts?" The Time Lord gave a yell in pain after that whispered sentence, and then he looked up. His eyes were unclouded as he stared at Jack, then to Martha, though they were filled with pain and fear and loneliness. "Jack... Martha... Help me!" He whispered desperately, finally snapping out of the stupor to recognize his friends. The Doctor slumped over alarmingly, going limp in the chair after being ridged for so long. He slid to the floor, hand just barely touching his sonic that nobody noticed until then.

Martha rushed over immediately, the doctor in her already assessing her patient. She tried to drag him to the true ground, but he convulsed. Eyes snapping open, the Time Lord's face was filled with fear as he stared at Martha for a split second, before wrenching himself from her grasp and bolting to the corner within the Pandorica. By this time it was completely silent, and though it was whispered and muttered almost below hearable frequency, Martha and Jack's hearts both broke at what he was mumbling. "Please, don't leave me alone, so, so lonely in this box, so alone, don't leave me, please, please, please..." the Doctor repeated the mantra over and over. Martha looked to Jack with tears stinging her eyes. "We won't leave you, Doc. I promise we won't." Jack whispered comfortingly to the Time Lord whimpering in the corner. That man was so very different from his Doctor, the one he had fallen for, the one with a pinstripe suit and converse and stick-uppity hair, or even his previous leather-and-ears Doctor.

The words of comfort had no affect on the hysterical Time Lord, and he continued rocking in the corner. The Doctor convulsed once more, going completely limp again, and then he began seizing. His nerves, for the most part unused until then, were being overloaded with information, not aided by the Doctors mental state nor the fact that he hadn't slept at all since being in that horrible box. Martha jumped up once more and held her hand to the sides of his flailing head to protect it from hitting anything.

He began to scream, a horrible, blood curdling scream that rendered no one able to move, and then began the psychic attack, so-to-speak. In all honesty, it was just his consciousness trying to latch onto something familiar, but it effected everyone in the room all the same. 'Burning, burning, BURNING! Someone help them please, please save them, anyone! My people, my planet, Gallifrey, EVERYTHING IS BURNING!' came the sickening, frightening mental contact that more resembled a scream. This outburst was followed by images upon images of the most beautiful planet slowly being incinerated under heat and flames. Red grass was aflame, the skies burned with inconceivable heat and fire, beautiful cities of diamond fell as the people of Gallifrey fled, only to burn to death within the flaming forests of white wood and silver leaves. The red lakes were almost the color of human blood, a sickening site when the light of the fire flickered over them.

Suddenly, it all stopped. The screaming, the mental shouts of agony, the memories of that day. Everyone had fallen to their knees with the outburst except Martha Jones and Jack Harkness. Jack was currently emptying a syringe of sedatives into the Time Lords arm, enough to kill a human, or knock out about ten. "Best if he stays asleep, eh?" He coughed and tried feebly to lighten the despairing mood. Colonel Mace entered the fray, staring at the unconscious Time Lord's body now relaxed on the floor. "That's what was in that box? The... the Doctor?" He asked hoarsely, pain for his friend evident in his eyes.

Here you go! Next chapter a bit longer than second or third! Roughly 2,000 words compared to 1,000 or 1,400-ish! Kept my promise! I'll try to keep up the content of the chapters, so that they're all generally the same length. A little addition because I'm getting asked a lot (well, I say a lot...) but this fanfic will be updated every Wednesday if I can keep a schedule!