A/N: I'm not entirely sure how this particular chapter came about, but it's here so enjoy ^^. Oh yeah, I'm taking ideas for situations you might like to see (I have a few more situations planned - and though nothing seems connected there is a running theme, sort of, the Doctor becomes aware of it in this chapter - BIG clue there - but I do wanna do a couple more crossover chapters, so, erm, yeah, ideas please)

"Why are you doing this?"

The all too familiar voice echoed in the silent console room at night. The Doctor frowned, turning round too face the origin of the voice. His voice, his old voice if he was being precise. "… How many rules are we breaking this time?" he asked. Ten glared back at him, seeing so much older than Eleven could ever remember him being.

"None."

"Oh? So this is all in my mind? Well that's a cheerful thought," Eleven said, "I always hoped for confirmation that I was actually going mad, I've thought it long enough." He looked down at the console, before sighing and sitting down on the couch, looking up at Ten with a faint sense of amusement. "Go on then, what am I doing wrong? I can't wait to hear from the vainest of my incarnations."

"Much as we'd all like to hear what Pretty Boy has to say for himself," a soft Northern voice interrupted the conversation before Ten could even reopen his mouth, "I have a feeling he'd ramble and wouldn't get to the bloody point," Nine folded his arms across his chest, looking down at Eleven sternly. "The point is that you seem to have it made, but you're running more destructive than either of us did."

" … That's pretty ridiculous you know that?" Eleven said, leaning back on the couch and looking at them both. "I'll accept that it might have been the case, but you think I would do it now?" He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "In case it's slipped your notice, I, we, have a son now. He needs us."

"I noticed," Ten said, a dark look on his face. Nine rolled his eyes at his future self's sudden grimness. He suspected that he knew the reason why, and though he did partially agree with him, he still thought he was taking it a little bit too far. "Awful quick wasn't it?"

"Shut up," Eleven hissed, a dark look of his own fixed on his face, not standing from the seat but instead moving forward, fists clenched tightly, his knuckles turning white. "You just shut up."

"I'm only saying that …"

"And I'm telling you to shut up!"

"Why don't both of you shut up or I'll thump the pair of you," Nine shot in angrily, a flicker of annoyance on his face. He rolled his eyes at his two future incarnations, and became grateful for his own relatively level head. Well, at least in comparison to those two. "We were pointing out how you seemed to be taking everything so personally. Well, that's what I was pointing out; Pretty Boy over there might have had something different to say." Eleven smirked, as Ten shot Nine a glare, muttering obscenities in Gallifreyian under his breath.

"I understand that," Eleven shrugged his shoulders, "but you're worrying for no reason. I mean, things are different now. Not just with Drax but with …"

"Romana," Nine and Ten spoke at the same time; Nine with a hint of bitterness and Ten with slight confusion to his tone, as though he were experiencing conflicting feelings regard the former Lady President.

"She gave the order," Nine muttered. Ten nodded in agreement with this, before frowning slightly.

"But we were the one who followed it out," he added, his tone dark for an altogether different reason now. "We could have found another way."

"What's done is done," Eleven said, looking up and not meeting either of their glances, knowing full well that they would be staring at him as though he had suddenly proposed marriage with Davros. "I may take things more personally now when I can't get them right, but I'm getting sentimental in my old age," he explained, looking at them and shrugging his shoulders. "I've just got to accept that what's done is done, and try to stop living with all this guilt," he looked away from them, his head titling to the side slightly as he considered the height of the Tardis console room. "The guilt's what'll kill me in the end, you know."

"You might be right about that one Doctor," Meat's voice echoed slightly in apparently very high roofed room. "But I doubt you'll let it take you without a fight." The Doctor looked away from the ceiling, towards Meat, finding them both alone in the control room, with absolutely no sign of his other selves. "Was just coming to tell you Drax's finally asleep. But apparently I caught you getting in some self therapy?" Meat laughed gently. "Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness y'know," she said, still grinning at him.

The Doctor considered this for a moment, a small side smile appearing slowly on his face. "Or the first step towards a sense of forgiveness."