Disclaimer: I don't own "Doctor Who" or "Twilight", and the essential details of the original concept of this fic came from a video posted on YouTube by heroesdwtw- which has unfortunately now been taken off YouTube- and is used with their permission
Feedback: Much appreciated
AN: In advance, if anyone wonders about the Doctors' confusion about what happened at Gallifrey, it's intended as a reference to the Twelfth Doctor's role in those events; since they can't remember that a future self was present, their memories of the specific events have become slightly blurred, just as the War and Tenth Doctors will forget these events completely once they leave the Eleventh.
The Day of the Doctor
When the TARDISes rematerialized in the Gallery, it was almost anti-climatic. Clara and I had lost track of time as we exchanged our stories of our time with the Doctor, ranging from Clara's role in convincing the Doctor to save Amy Johnson to my own trip to Hollywood in the 1950s when we'd encountered the Selyoids, but when the three TARDISes rematerialized beside us as we sat in front of the painting, the Doctors simply walking out as though they'd just gone to check something in a library rather than trying to save their people.
"All good here?" the Eleventh Doctor asked, looking between Clara and I with a slight smile.
"Fine," Clara said, getting up to give the youngest-looking Doctor a warm hug as the War Doctor emerged from his TARDIS with a tray containing cups of tea of all things.
"So…" I began, looking curiously at 'my' Doctor as we each accepted a cup from the War Doctor's tray, "what happened?"
"Not… sure," the Doctor said, taking a moment to think before he shook his head in a grim manner. "We made it to Gallifrey all right, and we definitely made contact with our other selves before we got there, but afterward…"
"It's all a bit unclear," the Eleventh Doctor finished, as he and Clara took two cups from the War Doctor's tray, the Doctors turning around to study the painting. "Maybe because so many of us were there at once, or maybe it was the sheer scale of what we were trying to do caused some kind of temporal ripple effect…"
"In the end, I don't suppose we'll ever know if we actually succeeded," the War Doctor mused, as he poured his tea and dropped a sugar cube into his cup. "But at worst, we failed doing the right thing, as opposed to succeeding in doing the wrong."
"Life and soul, you are," Clara noted, looking grimly at the War Doctor before taking a sip of her own tea.
"What is it actually called?" the Doctor asked, changing the topic as he and his future self studied the strange three-dimensional painting that Clara and I had been looking at.
"Well, there's some debate," the Eleventh Doctor noted. "Either No More or Gallifrey Falls."
"Not very encouraging," the War Doctor mused, voicing my own thoughts on the matter as I studied the painting; 'No More' was slightly more hopeful as we could assume that it meant that such a war would never happen again, but it still wasn't that encouraging.
"How did it get here?" the Doctor asked.
"No idea," the Eleventh Doctor said, lowering his glasses as he looked at the painting.
"There's always something we don't know, isn't there?" the Doctor mused, turning to look at his future self as he took another sip of his tea.
"Well, that's why we travel, right?" I suggested with a slight smile. "To find things out?"
"One should certainly hope so," the War Doctor mused, as he stood up and walked over to his other selves. "Well, gentlemen, it has been an honour… and a privilege."
"Likewise," the Doctor said.
"Doctor," the Eleventh Doctor added, grinning at his past self, the War Doctor returning the comment with a grateful smile of his own.
"And if I grow to be half the man that you two are," the old man said, turning to smile at Clara and I, "I shall be happy indeed."
"Uh… thanks?" I said, embarrassed at the idea that I could actually be considered that admirable by any version of the Doctor.
"That's right; aim high!" Clara smiled, getting up to give the War Doctor a brief kiss on the cheek, clearly more comfortable with the compliment than I was.
"I won't remember this, will I?" the old Time Lord asked, looking solemnly back at the four of us.
"The time streams are out of sync; you can't retain it," the Eleventh Doctor confirmed.
"So I won't remember that I tried to save Gallifrey, rather than burn it," the War Doctor said, his grim expression preventing me from asking if I'd be subjected to that same effect; the idea of something editing my memory was intimidating, but the old man in front of me would forget everything he'd just achieved…
"I'll have to live with that," the War Doctor concluded, looking resolutely around the room. "But for now, for this moment... I am the Doctor again. Thank you."
It might be a small thing in the grand scheme of things, but looking at the old man standing there now, contrasting him with the guilt-ridden mess he'd been when I'd first met him…
Whatever he'd become during the Time War, he was ready to be the Doctor once more.
"Which one is mine?" he asked, indicating the three TARDISes at one side of the room, the other two Doctors indicating the battered box on the right. As he walked into the ship, the War Doctor looked back at us with a brief smile before he walked through the doors, leaving me with nothing to do but watch as the old man vanished.
He'd just saved his planet and ended the worst war in history… and his reward would be to forget what he'd just accomplished.
"I won't remember either-" the Doctor began as he removed his glasses.
"What about me?"
"What?" the two remaining Doctors said, looking sharply at me.
"Well…" I said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable at the thought of interrupting even if I was committed to asking the question now. "I mean, I understand why… my Doctor has to forget his future, but… will I have to forget all this?"
"Yes and no," the two Doctors said at once.
"Basically," the Eleventh Doctor explained as he looked at me, "since you haven't really learned anything about your future- I mean, you know that you'll leave me, but you always know that's going to happen at some point- there's no need for you to forget anything, but for obvious reasons we can't risk you letting something slip about it to this chap here…"
"As a result," the Doctor continued, "the TARDIS's telepathic circuits will… 'nudge' your mind so that you just aren't able to talk about these events until you and I have parted company for good… or at least for the foreseeable future, anyway. You'll remember what's happened here, but you won't be able to talk about it until you're fairly sure I won't be coming back to hear someone else talking about it."
"OK," I said, nodding in uncertain acceptance. "That's… good, I guess?"
I still didn't like the idea of something editing my mind like that, but I appreciated that time was a very complex thing; it wasn't like the Doctors were doing this to hurt me…
"Anyway," the Doctor continued, "since I won't remember, and Bella's safe, you might as well tell me."
"Tell you what?" the Eleventh Doctor asked.
"Where it is we're going that you don't want to talk about," the Doctor clarified.
"I saw Trenzalore," the Eleventh Doctor said at last, after looking uncertainly at Clara. "Where we're buried. We die in battle among millions."
"Oh my God…" I said, looking between the two Doctors in shock.
Ever since I'd learned about regeneration, I'd known that the Doctor wasn't immortal, and I even accepted that it was still possible to kill the Cullens no matter how strong they were, but to hear that the Doctor was going to be dead in the future… that there'd actually be a time when he was gone forever…
The only thing worse than that was thinking about how the Doctor must have felt at the idea of visiting his own grave…
"That's not how it's supposed to be," the Doctor said firmly, voicing my thoughts before I could say anything.
"That's how the story ends," the Eleventh Doctor said in a low voice. "Nothing we can do about it. Trenzalore is where you're going."
"Oh, never say nothing," the Doctor said, eliciting a brief smile from his future self as he shook the other Time Lord's hand. "Anyway… good to know my future is in safe hands. Keep a tight hold on it, Clara."
"On it!" Clara confirmed, standing up and walking over to shake my hand. "Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid until the time's right, OK?"
"Uh… same to you?" I said, lost for the right thing to say to something like that.
"Trenzalore," the Doctor mused as he walked back to our TARDIS and unlocked the door. "We need a new destination, because… I don't want to go."
As he looked back at his future self, I silently walked into the TARDIS once again, staring around at our regular console room as I thought about everything we'd just done.
I'd seen the Doctor's future, I'd saved London, witnessed the historical creation of a treaty between Earth and an alien race, I'd participated in the last act of the Time War while meeting a man even the Doctor didn't like to think about, learned where the Doctor was destined to die for the last time… and now I'd never be able to talk about it for as long as I travelled with the Doctor.
Still… as the Doctor set the ship in motion to depart for our next adventure, I had to smile at the thought of what we'd accomplished.
For just a few moments, in a small way, I'd been able to help the most incredible man I'd ever met as he attempted to undo his greatest regret…
AN 2: Hope everyone enjoyed that; coming up, we have an original storyline that I hope will be interesting to all as a means of tackling Bella's last issues with her past…
