It must have been inside my head, I lost the hope that I had left. And now at last it comes to pass, we sleep, we dream, we have no less. ~ BREAKING BENJAMIN
So here we are, the beginings of my take on the Timeless Child Story Arch. I started writing this a while ago as part of College work and the Story kinda developed from there. Figured I'd upload to see what people think. Expect Angst and more angst, a vunerable Doctor, a caring and concerned Yaz and the return of a certain special character in a later chapter.
Hope you enjoy :)
The Doctor crept slowly through the corridors of the Tardis, paying no particular attention to where she was going. Her footsteps were light and gentle despite her trademark chunky boots. Only faint echoes followed in her path. She just needed time alone with her thoughts, not that she hadn't had enough of that recently. Almost a Century imprisoned by the Judoon, all alone in a prison cell with only one question for company. Who was she? She'd spent almost every waking and indeed sleeping moment trying to find the answer. Only to come up empty every time. Trying to find answers was proving difficult and with time her desperation grew. Decades spent locked away for being herself, for being the Doctor. But she didn't know what that meant anymore.
"You don't even know your own life". The Master's words turned over and over in her head. Filling her thoughts, her hopes, her dreams. Every inch of her mind was now tainted and broken. "You don't even know your own life". Spinning round and round, always there, on an endless repeat. No matter how hard she tried to forget, how much she tried to distract herself, those words would not go away, there was no escape from them. "You don't even know your own life". Desperate questions filled her thoughts, consuming her mind and all she thought she was. How could she not know her own life? All she had were endless questions and forgetting would not bring the answers.
For all his faults, all his evil intentions and villainous tendencies, the Master was right. Everything the Doctor thought she knew was a lie. Every story, every encounter, every memory of her past. She didn't know who or what she could trust anymore. Her whole existence hidden, past lives and memories that had been blocked. She wasn't sure she could even trust herself, or at least who she thought she was. She felt like a fraud, as if she'd spent all these years just pretending, putting on the mask of the Doctor. A mask she was no longer sure she deserved, a name she wasn't sure she could live up to anymore.
With those few words "you don't even know your own life" he had broken her. Everything was wrong, that was currently the only thought in her head. Her whole life was a lie, so many years and lives lived that she'd lost track. She couldn't even remember how old she was anymore. How could she continue, keep being the Doctor, the traveller always willing to lend a hand if she didn't know who she was?
All the things she'd seen and done, all the lives she'd lived were lost. The memories had to be somewhere, and she was going to find them. She needed to find them, more than she'd ever needed anything before. Because maybe then she'd be able to understand who she was and why this had happened. Her own people, or at least she thought they were, had taken her memories. Used and exploited her for their own gain. She couldn't understand how they could have done this. She hadn't always had the best relationship with the Timelords, but she still cared for them. To have lost them again and seen her home in ruins, all she'd lived and loved crumbled to ash. Left only with anger and suffering, the insufferable question of her own identity. Even as a Renegade she'd risked it all to save the Timelords. She had been prepared to sacrifice herself so Gallifrey could survive. Now she was beginning to question why. Their entire civilisation was built on deception and misinformation, a lie so great it had shaped every aspect of the known reality. The legend of The Timeless Child. Her legend, as according to the Master, she was The Timeless Child.
The Remnants on Desolation had known. Somehow, they knew who she really was. The Outcast, abandoned and unknown.
They saw the Timeless Child even then, when she was still trying to understand her own newness. Still fizzing with regeneration energy, trying to navigate the strange desolate planet in a body that still didn't feel like her own. They saw her fear; the fear she had of herself and the fear she always carried for those that chose to travel with her. Too many friends had been lost, and it was all her fault. How could they see so far back, deeper and further than her own understanding, she had yet to comprehend. The Doctor shuddered at the thought, yet another memory that haunted her, but buried deep within it was also the flicker of hope. If the Remnants could see far enough back to uncover the Timeless Child, then the Memories had to be somewhere. In a silent promise to herself, the Doctor swore that she would stop at nothing to find them.
To search her own mind for what had been hidden from her was a daunting challenge and one that she was sure wouldn't be easy. Since when did the Time Lords make anything easy? Well, they never did, the Doctor thought. And she was pretty sure that they'd want the memories to stay hidden. She wasn't sure what she was going to be up against, but intuition told her that it was going to be hard. Perhaps the hardest thing she'd ever done.
To search all of space and time, planets, across galaxies and to the very edge of the known universe and beyond, no problem. But to search her own mind, well that was something entirely different.
It had been weeks now, weeks where she'd tried to guide her mind, to find the memories that had been buried somewhere in her unconsciousness. Furiously searching for any indication, any fragment of a recollection that could provide some clue as to what had been hidden from her.
This was more than just her usual curiosity. This was a desperate search to understand, to find what had been kept hidden from her and to work out who she really was.
With every failed attempt her desperation grew. Every door in her mind that remained locked led to further anguish.
Fragments were all she had. Every second she could spare she'd disappear into her own mind, yet she returned with only fragments. The smallest particles of a memory, that slipped away before she'd had the chance to understand. The faintest whispers of the Timeless Child were scattered across her mind. Pieces of a puzzle, too few to fit together into a coherent recollection. Doors that closed before she could fully open them, leaving only indistinct echoes that faded into the wind.
The Doctor let out a heavy sigh, even the familiar humm of the Tardis did little to comfort her. She'd found herself back in the main control room, pausing for a moment to admire the central column with its golden glow and the faint blue lights dancing across the hexagons that adorned the walls. The soft lighting was a key feature of the latest redecoration and usually always gave her solace; but not today. Yet it was still her favourite place in the ship, much better than the swimming pool, the games room or the Library. Though the Library came a close second, however she had been avoiding it recently. Too many memories were captured in its shelves, and not enough answers. Especially not the ones she was looking for. There was only one way to find those.
Yet, all paths led back to the same moment. Trapped in the Matrix, unable to move, think or breathe. Hurting and so, so afraid. The Master's revelations ringing in her ears, having to bear witness to the desolation he'd inflicted on Gallifrey.
The fear of not knowing, not understanding was overwhelming. But no matter how hard she tried, all she found was blackness. Dark empty spaces, haunted by the memories that had been taken from her.
"Oh, old girl, what do I do?" she groaned, letting out a heavy sigh. Hands trembling slightly, she was overcome with a sudden wave of dizziness and reached out to lean against the console for support.
"I don't know what to do, I don't even know who I am anymore." She had to fight back the tears. Both her hearts ached, fraught with an immeasurable hurt that she didn't understand. Her mind stuck in an endless cycle, spinning with a dizzying fury, chasing memories that slipped away before she had the chance to make sense of them.
Then came the sinking realisation that she didn't know how to put this right. Clever words and quickly thought up plans were of no use now. All her efforts had ultimately led to nothing. She remained unable to piece the fragments together and barely had the energy left for a new search. The results would likely remain the same. Weak and worn out, her body and mind ached with self-doubt and uncertainty. It was becoming increasingly difficult to see a way forward. In all her thousands of years, at least the ones she could recall, she had never felt so alone, isolated from everything and everyone she thought she knew. Isolated even from herself. The Universe was a scary place, but in the face everything the Doctor had always kept the promise of hope. An unnerving question crept into her mind, if she didn't know who she was, then how could she keep the Promise? Her own identity and everything she thought she knew was a lie. A gentle sob escaped from her lips and silent tears rolled down her cheeks at the realisation; the Universe becomes vastly more terrifying when you can't even trust your own mind.
The Doctor looked down at the console eyes glossy with tears. She blinked hard and took a deep breath, trying to steady her trembling hands and clouded mind. She could not cry now. She needed to be strong for Yaz, she could not let her see how broken she was. Their friendship was still fractured, it needed time to repair the cracks. Ryan and Graham leaving, although she respected their decision, only added to the hurt that was burning inside her chest. And it was all her fault. She'd pushed them all away as she tried to hide her pain. She didn't know how to make sense of how she was feeling, let alone start explaining it to others. Not even her friends, though given her recent behaviour she didn't know if they still saw her as a friend. A few words, moments and a catastrophic revelation and everything had gone wrong. Her old life lay in tatters, friendships broken beyond repair.
The Doctor clung to the Tardis console as another rush of dizziness hit; it felt like the whole room was spinning. Well, it was, but the Gravity stabilizers were meant to stop you from feeling it. A thought occurred; she'd turned them on, hadn't she? She fumbled over the console, not wanting to move too much for fear of falling over, every movement made her feel faint and lightheaded. Her hand traced over the switch, she turned it off and on for good measure. The Tardis gave a sudden lurch, not pleased with her for messing with the switches mid-flight. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry" she mumbled a hasty apology to her ship. Forming words was becoming a struggle, thick fog clouded her thoughts, pain burned a path through her body, worsening by the second. Her head was still doing somersaults; her stomach too by the feel of it. She couldn't understand why. It all felt too much, her desperate search for answers had weakened her defences. She wasn't sure if she had the energy to fight much longer, but for Yaz, for all her friends, all the people she'd saved by being the Doctor, she knew she had to try.
She kept her head bowed and through a curtain of hair glanced around the Tardis. No spinning, everything perfectly normal; just her head then, well whole body now by the feel of it. She could feel her hearts hammering, hard and fast in her chest. Something is wrong, came the thought. It slipped into her mind, heavy and ominous. The strangest whispers filled her ears. Voices only she seemed able to hear, burning through her mind. Stop, stop looking. This is not how you'll find the answers. The timeless Child must stay hidden.
The voices faded to echoes, drifting through her mind. She could feel Yaz's concerned gaze burning into the back of her head. She could sense that Yaz was worried, and probably still angry. She had every reason to be. She had left Yaz and the rest of 'team Tardis' alone for 10 months, not knowing what had happened. It wasn't meant to be that long; she should have arrived back in Sheffield as soon as the gang had. Not months later, but her Tardis has never been the best with dates and times. Or places. But she'd really tried. Though trying proved not to be enough, 100 years in Space Prison had left her a little rusty, out of touch with her usual self. Her once eccentric and bubbly personality had been devastated by solitude and loneliness. She'd spent so much time wrapped up in her desperate search that she'd become irritable and withdrawn, disappearing into her mind any chance she could get. Not the way to welcome back a dear friend.