Doctor Who, Special Series; Episode 7: A Mad Man With A Box

A/N: Did you know it took me until I was writing this note to realize how oddly appropriate the title of this episode is. I originally chose it because the Doctor gets his TARDIS back. It wasn't until later that he goes insane as well.

Thanks to: DragonRose4, Twicked, Ptroxsora, Kudo Shinichi Tanteisan, FlyingLovegood123, Kohaku The Otaku, LilyLunaPotter142, and Jayie of Hufflepuff.

Fun Fact: … I don't have any… I am ashamed of myself…

WARNING: This chapter contains emotional and mental manipulation. If either of those are triggers for you, I would recommend skipping this whole chapter and coming back at the beginning of Episode 8. Also bizarre use of causality and the laws of physics, but that's more disorienting than anything else.

The TARDIS wasn't happy with him.

He couldn't figure out why. He hadn't done anything, not really. Tonks was just one human, why would his TARDIS care if he'd fiddled with her mind a little bit?

But his TARDIS really wasn't happy with him. He was just trying to get to the Cloister Room, to make that damned bell stop ringing, and she kept fiddling with things. A corridor that he knew was straight had turns in it, one ended in a fifteen foot drop to the kitchens, another ran in an infinite loop.

Of course, he had a few tricks up his sleeve as well. The Laws of Time were his – that meant causality was little more than a convenient crutch, to be used only when needed. He flew around the turns at top speed, warping the impact of his shoes against the grating to allow him to turn that fast. The fifteen foot drop could have been three inches for all he noticed it; he stood on air for a second before turning around and running back down the corridor. The infinite loop gave him pause for a moment – once in, there was no way out – until he looped time around it; the complexities forcing the collapse of a singularity in the centre of the TARDIS. She whisked it away – to use for fuel, probably – but that collapse allowed him out into more normal corridors again.

Nymphadora followed slowly. She could run – and that reminded him, he needed to fix her shins, medical engineering not being something that causality could help – but it was slow, and every so often, he had to stop and wait for her.

That was annoying, but he could slow time for himself, meaning that it only took him three minutes to get to the Cloister Room. Three minutes by TARDIS-time, at least. It was twenty-seven minutes for him – twenty-seven minutes, fifteen seconds, three hundred and forty-six milliseconds.

The Cloister Room was where the mind of the TARDIS was stored. Her heart was in the console room, but her mind was kept in the deepest rooms, protected by every defence she could conceive of.

None of them held against him. His genetic coding ran through her walls. She could no more stop him than he could destroy her. Their bond wouldn't allow it.

Throwing open the door, he ran into the Cloister Room, headed straight for the warning panel, the source of the bell. Nymphadora followed him and leaned against a wall, panting.

He bent over the panel and began reprogramming. Breaking the laws of the Time Lords shouldn't set off the Cloister Bell; that was going to get annoying really fast. So he had to change it, and maybe while he was at it, he could tone down the TARDIS's personality. Not a lot, but she didn't need to be that pushy.

"Doctor?"

His head shot up. That was Nymphadora. But she couldn't speak, he had turned that off! So how was she?

Nymphadora was staring at him, her hair a faded brown, her eyes similar. "I – I was wrong," she said, her voice growing stronger with every word. "You're just like Barty Crouch."

He flinched, wondered why that sentence affected him so much, and then remembered. When he first met her. When he first saw that determined, loyal, young girl standing up against the worst the Time Lords had to offer.

Except the Master wasn't the worst.

The Master was insane, and had the emotional range of a rabid tiger, and all of the morals of a half-starved wolverine. But he wasn't the worst.

He was, the Doctor, the saviour of worlds, the healer of the universe, he could destroy it all if he ever lost control. And he had. He had lost control so badly he had attacked his companion, damaged his TARDIS – warped time for no reason other than his convenience.

Rassilon would have been pleased.

A strangled whimper escaped his throat. His knees collapsed, and he fell shakily to the floor, arms wrapped around his chest. Rocking back and forth, he whined, mind too shaken to do anything else.

Tonks stared down at him, looking worried – and scared. He had made her scared. Of him.

What had he become?

Tonks. Tonks. He had to fix Tonks. If he had nothing else to hold on to – and he wasn't sure that he did, anymore – it was Tonks, who had to be healthy and happy and sane and amazing, and right now she wasn't, and it was all his fault –

All of it. His fault. Every single thing he touched died and it was all his fault.

He closed his eyes, retreating inwards. All of his boundaries were gone. He had walls, walls of rules and restrictions, walls designed to protect the universe from himself.

They were all gone.

So that was the first step on a road he wasn't sure he wanted to take, but one that he had to take, to help Tonks if nothing else: He had to rebuild his walls.

Rule 1: I will not break the core laws of the Time Lords.

That was the first plank, and the second and the third. Each plank was a law, drilled into him so there was no way to forget them without ruining his mind, and he formed them into the first outline of a palisade.

Rule 2: I will not enter another's mind without permission. I will never alter another's mind, with or without their permission.

Mind control was a slippery slope with an angle of 79 degrees. Once he started again, he wouldn't stop. The only thing he would allow himself was the ability to put Tonks' mind back together. Everything else was getting shut down.

Rule 3: Fixed points in time are fixed. I will not interfere with them.

Rule 4: I will avoid paradoxes at all costs.

Rule 5: No one is expendable. Everyone has value.

The unspoken, unthought corollary that hid in the depths of his mind: Except for me.

Rule 6: If I lack a moral opinion on something, my companion is right.

It terrified him, sometimes, when he was feeling particularly human, how much he relied on his companions for even the most basic problems.

Rule 7: My companion is my moral compass; as such, they are to be protected above all else.

He didn't think too much about the intersection between rule 5 and rule 7. He didn't want to admit to himself that he would save his companions even if it meant sacrificing an entire world.

Rule 8: Weapons are not to be used except in instances of extreme need. Swords are acceptable for this purpose. Guns are not.

Rule 9: Everyone makes mistakes. Make sure to give them a chance.

And again the unspoken corollary: Except for me.

Rule 10: Friendship with my companions is allowed and encouraged. Physical attraction is not. I cannot afford to be distracted.

Rule 10 was because of Rose. He wasn't going to put anyone else through that ever again. No matter how much he wanted, it wasn't worth it. His presence could never make up for the pain of leaving.

They were his walls. High and strong and designed to keep the worst of himself trapped.

He had other layers, other barricades he would put up later, but those ten rules were the only ones he never broke, not without severe complications.

The Doctor opened his eyes. Tonks was crouching in front of him, looking worried.

"Doctor?"

He clamped down on his tongue, holding back his words until he could get control of himself. "Yeah. I'm alright."

She raised an eyebrow, backing away slightly. "You sure? 'Cause you weren't, a minute ago."

"Yeah." He lunged upright, unsure whether he was responding to the question or the statement.

Tonks flinched, taking another step back.

His eyes widened as he realized. She was afraid of him. She expected him to hurt her again, and she didn't realize, because he hadn't given her a reason to, that he would never ever hurt her again, it wasn't in him anymore, it wasn't possible.

He gasped a breath in, crossing his arms over his chest, looking down. "Tonks – Nymphadora Tonks, I'm sorry."

She shook her head, but remained where she was. "I – I don't – why?"

He didn't explain, he couldn't explain, the insanity of a Time Lord was not like the insanity of any other creature, so he tried something else. "I can put it back. Fix your mind. Back the way it used to be."

Tonks shuddered. "You shut it down. I couldn't speak, couldn't think!"

"Yes," he said quietly. "I – I did. Tonks – I need to know. How did you break it?" He'd altered her mind. There shouldn't have been a way back from that, not unless he did it, and he hadn't.

She swallowed, not quite meeting his eyes. "The TARDIS. Just – just a little bit of her. She opened up my mind and – and let me talk again. I – I still couldn't – still can't l-l-leave you. Hard to even think of – of it."

He nodded, trying hard to ignore the atrocity he had committed while – while insane. Violating someone's mind like that – he didn't have many morals on his own, but that was one of them. "The blocks are still there, then. She couldn't break them on her own, not without –" He stopped that sentence there, all too aware of how fragile Tonks' mental stability was. "So she placed herself between your mind and the blocks and let you work through her. You – you'll – unless you let me back in, you'll revert back the instant you step outside the TARDIS."

She flinched and stepped back again, face deathly pale. "To – to remove the – the blocks, you need to go in my head again, don't you?"

The Doctor nodded slowly. "I – I'm sorry, Tonks, I really am, but –"

"How do I know I can trust you?" Her eyes, dark brown, stared into his own.

So many answers, so few of them right. He stared at her, mouth working silently for a moment. "You – you can't," he said, the words just barely audible in the silent room.

She nodded, beginning to smile, for some reason. "Thank you," she whispered. "For telling me the truth. Go ahead, Doctor. I trust you."

He stared at her blankly, trying to understand this. "What – why? But – but – but –"

Tonks smiled shakily at him. "Just fix me, Doctor. You didn't lie. When you had every reason to, you didn't lie. I trust you to do it right." She wrapped her fingers around his wrist and placed his hand on her cheek. "Go ahead."

The Doctor swallowed, slowly extending his mind again, letting it brush against Tonks'.

Is this alright?

Her eyes widened. "Oh dear Merlin."

He froze, both physically and mentally. Are you alright? Do you need me to pull out?

"No, no, it's fine," she said, her short, rapid breaths giving the lie to her words. "It's just – nothing like Legilimency."

The Doctor tried not to grin and failed. Of course it's not. Legilimency is a human thing. I'm a Time Lord.

She forced up a smile. "Right. 'Course. I see your cockiness isn't a product of your insanity."

He chuckled into her mind, making her squeak in surprise. I'm always insane, Nymphadora Tonks. In fact I seem to recall calling myself insane at least once.

Tonks raised an eyebrow, beginning to relax. "Really? I don't remember that?"

You certain? I am a Time Lord after all, and Time Lords have –

"An infinite capacity for pretension," she interrupted.

He laughed again, weaving his way into her mind now that she was more relaxed, and pulling down the blocks. I do remember that one. Hand of Omega, wasn't it? With Daleks and Ace?

She nodded, gasping. "Oh – you fixed it. I – Thank you, Doctor," she said, pulling away from him, and letting his hand drop.

The Doctor slipped out of her mind, jamming his hands in his pockets. "Yeah. Fixed it. That's what I do. Fix things. Should – I should take you back. Yeah. I'll take you back home, return you to your parents. Then I'll round up the Master and the Corsair and all the rest – Jack, Martha, her soldiers – and we'll all leave and you'll never –"

"No!" Tonks jerked, staring at him. "Doctor, don't. Please. I – Just promise me you'll never do that again."

Hope bloomed in his hearts, but sorrow grew faster. "I can't. Sometimes I lose control, Tonks, and if I do again," he looked at her from under his fringe, not sure how to explain, "I – I won't be able to stop – you were the only reason I stopped this time."

She tossed long pink hair out of her face, giving him a look. "If I was the reason you stopped this time, why wouldn't I be able to do it again? Isn't that the point of companions? To help?"

He blinked. "I – well – yes? But – you want to stay? Why?"

Tonks smiled sadly. "Two reasons. I'm a Hufflepuff – loyalty, remember? And if I can stop you, then shouldn't I stay? Even – even if I – I'm scared –"

The Doctor flinched.

"I shouldn't leave you on your own. It'd be worse if there wasn't anyone to stop you, and it looks like that's me."

He took in a deep breath and held it for a minute. "Right then. I – we should still go back to your universe and clean up there. 'Cause something's wrong, Tonks, something's very, very wrong, and it has to do with your universe and those cracks." Smiling shakily at her, he turned to face the doors out of the Cloister Room. "Sorry dear!" he called out. "Am I forgiven yet?"

The doors swung open, revealing the console room beyond. Tonks blinked. "Ah. She can rearrange the rooms."

Grinning, the Doctor bounded forward and reached for the controls. "That means 'yes'," he explained. "Can't talk to me, and putting up messages takes a little more of her concentration than either of us like. So – this." He waved one hand, letting the other rest on the console.

The TARDIS purred in his mind, happy that he was back, and annoyed that he had gone insane in the first place. He patted her, weaving their minds together.

As he threw her into the Time Vortex, the image of a sheet of A4 paper flashed into his mind. Why? Why was that so familiar – oh. "Tonks, how about a brief little detour?"

"You can't pilot the TARDIS as it is, I don't see why a detour would make any difference," Tonks muttered, closing the doors behind her as she strolled into the console room.

He stuck his tongue out at her, entering coordinates again. "Can too fly my TARDIS."

She raised an eyebrow. "Really? Then how come you end up in the wrong spot half the time?"

"'Cause – 'cause –" He gave up and just waved a hand. "TARDISes are meant to be flown by six Time Lords, not one."

Tonks snickered, grabbing onto a support strut on the opposite side of the room. "So where's this 'little detour' to, then?"

He grinned, grabbing the hammer. That one sticky button – he'd fix it, but it was too much fun to hit it with a hammer. "June 26th, 1995. The day after Voldemort's return, the day after I woke up. The day I found a note from myself – a note that I've got to write, so just keep us flying steady, dear." Returning the hammer to its hook, he pulled a sheet of paper from underneath the console and pen from his pocket.

Settling down on the pilot's chair, he began to write a letter. To himself. In the past. It was all very confusing and complicated. Just the way he liked it, really.

Across the room, Tonks smiled.

The TARDIS flew on.

Next time on Doctor Who – Episode 8: The Predator of the Daleks.

"EXTERMINATE!"

…

"Hello."

"Doctor. Thank god you decided to answer."

"Martha. What's wrong?"

"Daleks."

…

"And here we are!"

"Where's 'here'? What happened to environment checks?"

"We're in the middle of London. London, England, Earth. What could go wro– Well, yes, it would have been nice to know that my TARDIS decided to land us in the middle of theMinistryofMagic!"

…

"You haven't told them?"

"Why would I? This way, they don't question me. I can hide until you and your boyfriend leave and go home. I don't need to get involved in your masochistic mating ritual."

…

"That doesn't sound like a plan."

"Is too."

"Really? When, where, and how?"

"Don't know, don't know, and will figure it out when we get there. Any questions?"

…

"Renegade Time War Daleks. What could be better."

"What was the other option?"

"Imperial Time War Daleks."

…

"Ah. A side effect of fighting Time War Daleks – they have Time War tech."