Memory is an odd thing; a construction of images and sensations that one accepts as having happened. No one generally accounts faulty remembrance, and embellishments over time often become fact. The wonder of the memory projection chamber on Gallifrey was that it exerted a small amount of temporal energy when it was used. It acted as a camera of sorts, pointing its lens at the time that was needed.
Memory was truth through that machine, where stories and tall tales were torn apart and presented as they really happened. The only time this wasn't the case was when the link between the mind and the machine was defective or malfunctioning. Alcohol generally had that affect.
Ribos continued to swirl around The Doctor and Romana, mountains melting into the distant horizon. Small castles became cities, the bricks growing into large buildings and eventually exploding into dust. The dust became one with the snow, and the snow; now falling upwards, became one with the sky. It was a beautiful mess.
"I don't know why no one has ever thought of this." Romana remarked.
In her experience, there had never been an instance where the memory chamber had been used without a clear mind. This was unprecedented, but rather exciting. Romana, a warmth in her temples pushing her on, dared to get lost in the wonderment of it all.
"It's all so beautiful. Like the swirling of the time vortex." It was a clumsy simile, but it was an apt one; this place had become a vortex.
The Doctor took another swig, bringing the bottle up to his lips.
"It's like the… field of… of…" He held his hand over his mouth, completely losing his train of thought. "I don't even know, really."
Romana's hand brushed against his as she reached for the bottle. This time, The Doctor didn't immediately pull his arm away. Within this mess of memory, there was a gnawing loneliness. It was empty spectacle clumsily built on happier times, and he savored what little companionship he received from the gesture.
This did not stop him from eventually pulling the bottle away from her, grinning. Romana's response was a quick and playful slap to the back of his head. She smirked, the action allowing her to grab the bottle from him.
"Doctor?" She asked, after taking a long drink.
The Doctor, red and all-together numb in the face, made no effort to correct her.
"Yes, Romana?" Romana looked off into the distance, dark clouds fast approaching. The Doctor followed her gaze.
"I'm going to ask you something. It's been bothering me. Ever since the Sontarans. I didn't know how to bring it up, at first." Romana said, the room beginning to darken under the clouds.
Romana was quite nervous, and dug deep into the rest of the bottle for the courage to tackle this line of questioning.
"What is it?" The Doctor asked, starting to worry.
Perhaps it was a combination of the worrying and the nervousness that brought about what came next. The dark clouds that Romana had spotted now stretched out as far as the eye could see began to sink. The sky began to fall on them, swallowing Ribos and the Louvre up in a thick fog. The Doctor and Romana's minds were being affected, and as such, were unable to locate each other in the midst of this illusion.
At the edge of her perception, Romana heard The Doctor calling out through the haze.
"Romana!" His voice was muted, sounding as if it were miles away.
"Doctor!" She called back, her voice similarly getting lost in the cloud.
In reality, the two of them were standing back to back, each facing an opposite wall of the room, each lost in the memory machine. They were trapped in their collective unconscious; a dark place saturated with trauma and sadness. The empty bottle slipped from Romana's grasp, shattering as it hit the ground.
From The Doctor's perspective, the bottle breaking was ear-splitting, the sound assaulting his senses as if it were a piercing scream. He uselessly held his hands over his ears and shut his eyes to drown out the pain, his own scream joining the sound in a discordant melody. Quite suddenly, the song was over.
The Doctor looked around, trying to re-adjust himself to his surroundings. He found himself in a hallway that stretched off endlessly in both directions. The walls were cold, lifeless steel and they offered no reflection. The light was dull, but there was enough for him to see two wire ends sitting at his feet. He kneeled down, overcome by both curiosity and familiarity. As he did, he noticed he was no longer wearing his leather jacket.
He was now wearing his old red coat, and his reasonably-sized scarf was now ludicrously long. Atop his head was a fettered brown hat. He had been here before, so long ago. This was the start of the Time War.
"What is this?!" He demanded, the voice escaping his lips being that of his fourth life.
From both directions, his own voice responded. "Have I that right?"
The Doctor grew angry, screaming down the hallways in response. "I know what I should've done! I've played this over a million times in my head! This was the start! I know my mistakes! My regret! I don't need to be reminded that I'm a coward… I don't!"
The hallways offered no response other than that which had already come before.
"Have I that right?"
The Doctor grasped the two wire ends desperately and began smashing them together.
"I do!" He rasped out. "I do… It's me. It has to be me…"
Just adjacent to him, Romana was trapped in her own nightmare. She sat alone in a cylindrical room, devoid of light and sound. Her face, like The Doctor was one that had come before. Her long blonde hair fell over her face, and despite her pink coat, she was terribly cold. The room was without doors or windows. Deprived of her senses, Romana was still filled with a sense of foreboding dread.
This confused her at first, but her inability to rationalize it quickly turned confusion into fear. The walls of the room began to shudder and crack, her fear being validated as the walls of the room collapsed, Daleks bursting in. In the darkness, all Romana saw was thousands of blue Dalek eyes endlessly going off in all directions and the blinking lights atop their heads as they screamed.
"EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!"
Romana had nowhere to run as the Daleks bared down on her, slowly approaching. They were in no rush to kill her, intent on making her suffer. With no place to go, Romana let out a terrified scream; a scream that was lost in the mechanical chanting.
"EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!"
They did not fire their cannons at her, instead rolling closer. As they came into contact with her, they began pushing into her from all sides.
"EXTERMINATE!"
They pushed with all their strength, harder and harder.
"EXTERMINATE!"
Romana felt her bones begin to splinter and crack, her flesh tearing as they crushed her.
"EXTERMINATE!"
She raised her hand above her head in an attempt to signal for help that would never come. Her senses beginning to fail her, the Dalek's protestations began to fade away as she did,
"EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINate…! EXTErminate…! Extermina… Ex…"
As The Doctor uselessly slammed the wires together and Romana was crushed, the sound of glass rang out again.