(I wish to make a small trigger warning for this chapter, as it does contain a great deal of depressive inner thoughts and feelings, and mentions of suicidal thoughts, which I know could possibly be triggering for someone. Please take care, everyone, and remember to always seek help).

A Choice

It is with deep regret and sympathises that we must inform you that Lady Leonora of the Great House of Blyledge has fallen this evening. She perished protecting her young charges in the city of Acadia. Her actions saved many lives.

With condolence,

Senor Chancellor of War Affairs,

Captain Sierra.

It was such a stiff, formal, cold way in which to learn that your very own sister had died, but that was the Time Lords way of handling grief and loss, the Hatter supposed darkly to herself, her gaze looking unseeingly up at the dark red canopy that was held above her head, flecked by strands of gold thread that had been woven in elaborate patterns. But she wasn't really seeing how the thread glittered as it caught the light, not really following how the pattern wove and twisted delicately into loops and something almost floral-like, her mind and thoughts were far too deeply in turned for her to see anything presently. She had felt disconnected from everything for over three centuries now...she hadn't felt truly herself since the day she had received the news of her own children's deaths, and even now, hearing the news that he eldest sister was gone...she felt the pit of emptiness in her chest only expand, but no great shock, no great sorrow, for she couldn't possibly feel any more sorrow then she already did.

She was broken; she knew that already, the part that had once been her was utterly shattered and gone, with her children. She had essentially died that very same day; the only thing that had kept her physical form from continuing was the Doctor and his desperation to have her live, even if he had to spend the rest of his life holding her hand and pulling her through life alongside him...his words, from memory. The thought almost made her feel a tingle of long since dulled affection rush through her, but that was three hundred years ago now. The Doctor was no longer that romantic, idealistic man that he had been when he had gotten down on his knees before her and pleaded with her to live, for his sake, and Rassilon, did she miss that man. She rarely saw the Doctor any more, the last time she had it had been a brief glimpse from down a busy hallway while she had been entering the War Chambers. He had caught her eye and she had seen such a heavy, weighted burden of a man who had seen so much, who had done too much, staring back at her with haunted, but fierce eyes. He had looked like a warrior. She hated it.

She blinked, slowly and absently, but still her gaze didn't waver from the canopy above her head, still did she not take in even the rich, crimson of the fabric, nor the sensation of the soft, silk-like pillowcase below her head. She couldn't help puzzling over how her mother had reacted to the news that her own daughter had died...she had barely blinked, barely frowned, simply gazed at the message with emotionless, unfeeling eyes and turned away without a word. She remembered how she had taken the news of her own children's deaths, how she had screamed, how they had even needed to call the Doctor in to just try and calm her...but her mother had barely reacted. Why was she surprised? When news had broken that her son had died a century ago, her mother hadn't said a word, either. It made her wonder...who was the real broken one here? Her mother would claim that it was she, that she had been broken and damaged since she had fled Gallifrey as practically a child...God; she had been so idealistic about the Universe. Now, she only saw pain, sorrow, death...she was glad that none of her companions were here to see her like this, though she doubted that they would recognise her. She was no longer the same, bright, happy, cheerful, witty Time Lady they had once known. She was something else.

Someone else.

What was she? She was no longer a mother, that was for sure, nor was she even a scientist, since her laboratory was destroyed and all of her technicians killed in the blast. She was not the daughter her mother had expected her to be, nor was she even the Doctor's best friend any longer, for even he refused to go by his own name now. She was...nothing, just another lost, broken soul floating along, just waiting for...something. She had nothing left to cling to, no duty to uphold, no adventure, no one to help, for there was no help left. She just...was. Darks thoughts whispered through her mind, urging her to take matters into her own hands, but she couldn't. Maybe she was a coward, but she didn't want to die, she had never feared death, in fact she had laughed death in the face so much and thrown a few teasing jabs in to boot, but even now, shattered as she was, something inside her to clung to life. Maybe it was just that she was afraid to carry out the deed herself. She wasn't sure, but she imagined the end was near enough already.

Arcadia had fallen that morning, reports had broken that the very Sky Trenches that had protected the second great city of Gallifrey had fallen, a feat that was thought utterly impossible since the war had began, but it had happened. As she lay staring up at her canopy, people were dying, innocent children who had been sent to the city for protection by their parents...every child on Gallifrey had been sent there, under direct order of the High Council, but it was all for nothing now. The Citadel would be destroyed in a matter of hours now, than the Daleks would have won. The Time Lords will be erased, the rumours of the horrors that this war had born on the front line would be allowed to roam the Universe freely, killing and destroying everything in their wake, too. Gallifrey was the only thing in their way, once she was gone, so would the Universe. The thought made her want to vomit, but she had long since grown used to feeling that way on a daily bases.

A part of her brain, deep down and buried, wanted to scream at her to do something, to get up and fight, to protect the innocent, to help, to do something! But she was just...empty. She had no fight left inside of her, no Hatter left inside of her. She wasn't her any more; she was lost and dead and long buried. Which is why, it was perhaps not in the least bit startling to her when her bedroom door creaked open. It wasn't her mother, she would never be so silent, nor had she bothered to attempt to enter her chambers for over a century now since the Hatter had last declared that she was no longer her daughter in a fit of fury and outrage, and nor was it the few staff that still remained to tend to the house and the few family members that lived. They would always announce themselves to their mistress and none of her Cousins would come close to approaching her chamber door, for they detested her almost as much as her own mother did. A faint frown worked across her lightly creased brow.

The door shut softly, but she didn't feel frightened or alarmed by the presence that had stepped unannounced into her most private space. She didn't feel threatened, even though she thought that it was possibly a man and she was only a physically very slight woman in this body, but she was very faintly, very slightly, curious. She turned her head, her short, dark brown bobbed hair tickling her cheek as she looked over to see a familiar man standing just a few steps inside her room, his expression so grim on his aged, line face that it was startling that he wasn't stone. His jaw and cheeks were marked by a scruffy, almost white-grey beard, while green-brown eyes were hooded by slightly sagging skin from age, while his still faintly brown hair was now mostly grey, but with a boyish messiness to it. He was draped in a well-worn looking dark brown leather trench coat, dark green waistcoat that had a brass pocket watch dangling from a chain attached to a pocket. Tan trousers were tucked into high combat boots and a burgundy coloured scarf tied around his neck. He was not a very imposing man, but to many on Gallifrey, he was infamous now days for being a fierce warrior of the uttermost and the best fighter that Gallifrey had.

To the Hatter he was, and always would be, the Doctor.

"Doctor," she breathed, stunned so greatly by his sudden arrival in her chambers, by his return into her life after so long since last she had seen him, that she actually sat up sharply, staring at him with wide eyes.

He flinched at the use of his name, something dark and angry flickering through those green-brown eyes, "Don't call me that," he said in a curiously soft, gruff voice, dropping his gaze.

She frowned, eyeing him as she slowly moved to swing her legs over the side of her bed, her bare feet hitting the cold, dark stained floor boards, her black, combat boot style boots sitting disregarded off in the corner. She was at least dressed to receive visitors, leather, dark brown trousers clinging to her legs and a dark red tunic style shirt over them with billowing, long sleeves that became tight at the cuffs, the sheer fabric showing the white, silky shirt she wore beneath it. Her shortly bobbed hair was likely mussed and sticking up on her head, but she didn't care. There was no hat...she gave up hats when she lost her children, when she lost herself.

"You're still the Doctor to me," she told him quietly, her words laced with an Irish brogue, "No matter what...no matter what shame you feel yourself, how lost you think you are, you're still him to me".

The Doctor, or the Warrior, as she had also heard him go by these days, looked up to her with a tired, worn expression. He didn't speak, he simply gazed at her, before he suddenly sunk down onto the floor, hitting the ground with shocking force of a man that was physically seventy, but it was as if all the strength in him just collapsed.

"Doctor!" she exclaimed in alarm, rushing over to him and falling onto her knees before him, reaching out to steady him, but his hand reached up and grabbed her wrist before it could touch him, his eyes almost wild and frantic. She might have thought he had been drugged, had he not then curled his hand so that his fingers entwined with her own, his other hand reaching out to take her other hand, doing the same.

"It's got to end, Hatter," he said so softly she would never had heard, had they not been kneeling so closely, his lips just a inch away from her face. His fingers were trembling, she realised, "It must be put to a stop...no more, no more..."

"What has happened?" she stared at him worriedly, her mouth dry and her hearts thundering in her ears, "Doctor, you must explain what has brought you here, to me, after all this time? It's been decades since we last even spoke..."

"I...I couldn't be around you, Hatter. I couldn't taint you with who I am...what I've become, I couldn't..."

She instantly grew angry, "That's absurd!" she snapped, not caring if in the past she might have immediately have been sympathetic and understanding, she was not that woman.

"I came here because you're the only one I could trust," the Doctor continued, giving her a near pleading look for her to understand, perhaps he feared she was about to demand that he leave out of anger...she did consider it, but they had known each other to long for her to act so childish. He tightened his grip on her hands, looking intently into her face, "Hatter..." he hesitated, his voice growing almost chocked, "They're going to destroy everything if this battle goes on any longer, it's not just the Time Lords or the Daleks...it's everything at risk now. And...and I can't allow that to happen," he swallowed, thickly, "All of the universe will fall, every single life, every single moment that has ever existed, will be consumed".

He was right, she knew he was, she had seen the signs that the war wasn't just impacting their people or those that were closely tied to Gallifrey, but she had heard reports of snippets of the war branching out, touching other planets. If you looked closely enough, she imagined there was no where not touched by the war somehow, even if even those themselves had no idea yet...but they would. The Time Lords had lost, the Capital could not survive and once it fell, they were all gone. She licked her lips and tasted sweat, or perhaps that was tears? Was she crying? She wasn't sure, she had long since gotten used to the sensation of tears, she no longer noticed.

"Why have you come to me?" she asked slowly, though in her hearts she knew.

He looked at her for a long moment, eyes so desperate and sad and fearful, she just wanted to grab him and hold him, so that they could hold one another as the end neared. But that would be rather selfish, wouldn't it? To simply hug each other while the Universe began to burn, doing nothing...when there was still one, desperate, horrible, shocking thing they could do. At the greatest price imaginable.

"I need you to help me get the Moment," he whispered, finally, and her breath still caught in her throat and she rocked back on her knees, even knowing it was coming. His grip on her hands tightened, steadying her, "I know I ask too much of you, but it's the only way," he went on, almost in a rush, as if speaking quickly would help to lessen the blow, "You built it, Hatter, you know how it works, you know where the War Council placed it. I have an idea, but I still lack your intimate knowledge..."

The Hatter pulled away from, then, slipping her hands firmly out of his and moving to stand. He rose, too, eyeing her warily, but with a near pleading glimmer still in his eyes. She smiled tiredly, not a happy smile, but one of a woman who had long since given up on anything close to happiness, but who was still, somehow, amused.

"You truly think I would give the Time Lords unlimited access to a weapon of that destruction?" she lifted a thin, dark eyebrow at him, and a humourless laugh escaped her lips, "What they have in their vault of meaningless toys is nothing more than a fake, one that I handed over in replacement," her expression grew darker, sadder, "The true weapon remains in my keeping, for I could trust no one else with it..." she paused, her dark brown eyes meeting his gaze, "Well, no one, but you".

Shock briefly crossed his lined features, "You will give it to me, then?" he asked quietly, staring at her.

She regarded him closely, "You're right..." she murmured, dropping her gaze to the floor just a foot between them, tracing the joints of the floorboards with her eyes, "This war must be stopped...before the Universe can be swallowed up by it, too, for that is exactly what will happen. It is already lost, Gallifrey, but we might be able to save everyone and everything else..." she paused, her mouth dry, again, and something close to a sob in her throat, but it passed, "The Time Lords are no more...attempting to cling to the hope that we can save our people, our home, any longer...it is a foolish hope of a child, though it devastates me, Doctor," she looked up to him, her expression growing pained, almost agonised, "This will be an act of genocide. There is no excusing or ignoring that fact".

"No, there isn't, and I'm not making any excuses. I know what this is, what it means".

"Do you?" she examined him closely, her gaze on his face, "The Moment is not so simple as a bomb, the one who actives it...they will survive. That shall be the burden, the punishment of the one who carries out the deed, that they will be forced to live with what they have done".

The Doctor smiled a dark, humourless smile, his eyes knowing, "Your punishment, you mean?" he said quietly, his eyes on her, "You built the Moment, Hatter".

"I did more than build it; I poured a part of my very own hearts and soul into it, Doctor. It is literally a living thing, capable of thought, emotion, judgment, and persuasion. It is not merely a machine that you flick a button and the deed is done, you will be required to carry out a task to prove, without a doubt, that you wish to use the Moment, and it will ensure that you are certain. It is, essentially, your judge, jury...and, when needed, executioner".

"I understand," he said quietly, but the gravity of the weight in his eyes, the way that he reached out and grasped her right hand in his again, told her that he truly did. And loath as she knew he was, he was resigned to the choice.

She swallowed, hard, and nodded slowly, "Very well," she squeezed his hand, her own voice heavy and grave, and she felt a wave of nausea briefly crush over her. She couldn't believe they were standing here, speaking about destroying their own home, their own people...it was beyond imaginable and if she allowed herself to stop, even for a split-second, and consider what that meant for their own people, for the innocent lives on this planet that were about to die because of this...she wouldn't be able to go on, but they had to. It was Gallifrey or the Universe, and Gallifrey had been lost for three centuries now.

"It has to be this way, Hatter," he murmured, peering intently into her face, perhaps sensing that she had a flicker of doubt, just for a second, "It can't go on any longer. It's time that someone stands up and ends it, and I hate that it has to be us...that it's fallen onto our hands to be the ones to make that choice, but it's got to be".

"I know, I know..." the Hatter dragged in a shaky breath and briefly shut her eyes, before slowly releasing their breath through her lips, opening her eyes to met his sharp gaze again. He was watching her closely and slowly, he lifted his other hand up to cup her face, a gesture so tender and just so much like his older, less war harden versions, that it almost made her want to cry in relief that he truly was still the Doctor, no matter what he might claim. His hand was callused, but so gentle and soft as his thumb stroked along the sharp curve of her prominent cheek bones. It gave her the final push she needed, "Very well," she breathed, meeting his eyes, and she imagined that she likely looked almost as stony now as he had when he first entered, "If it is to be done...then it must be done".

She pulled away from him and he allowed it, dropping his hands from her as she turned away from him and crossed the room. She moved to stand by one of the two large, circular windows that looked down upon the burnt and damaged field that had once been a vibrate red of long grass. It had been scorched and blackened after a Battle TARDIS had crashed landed there, the pilot hadn't survived...She moved to lift the crimson cushion that sat along the window seat of the window, carelessly throwing it aside as she felt the Doctor step up from behind her, felt his curious gaze.

"You kept it here?" the Doctor asked her, his tone sounding almost shocked by the thought.

"In the only place I could trust that it would be safe," the Time Lady nodded, glancing over her shoulder to him, her lips thinning into a hard line, "When I was a little girl I used to stash my Earth books in here and the letters we would exchange...no one knew about it, it was my secret hiding place," she sighed sadly and turned her gaze back to the wooden seat, which was slightly scratched and marked in places from centuries of wear. She traced her hand over those marks, almost fondly, "I never imagined as a child that it would one day house the worst weapon the Universe has ever known".

She smoothed her hand over the wood and down over the curved edge of the seat, which she easily lifted with just a small lift of her fingers, not even needing to use her other hand. The top of the seat popped up easily and smoothly and she lifted it aside, leaning it again the wall next to the window. She paused and simply peered down over the seat for a moment, before slowly reaching down to lift a large object out of the depths, covered by a large, ordinary brown sack.

"You didn't even lock it?" he stared at her in amazement, his lips parted slightly in disbelief.

The Hatter glanced back to him, her lips lifting grimly, "Who would ever think to look?" she said with a very slight lift to her shoulders. She move passed him and back over to her bed, where she gently placed the sack down upon the crimson, velvet blankets, moving to swiftly untie the rope tie of the sack, which fell open to reveal a large, perfectly cube box, covered in Gallifreyan lettering and designs on each sides, made from bronze coloured, metal gears, much like the inner workings of a clock, but with a wooden frame making up the edges of the box. It was...beautiful, concealing the deadly nature of what it truly was. She looked up to the Doctor as he edged closer, his gaze fixed on the device, "Is it what you imagined, Doctor?"

"No..." he shook his head slowly, swallowing, hard, his gaze fixed on the device with a look of wonder, but there was resignation there, too, flickering in the deep depths of his eyes, "Not at all...it's beautiful".

She grimaced and looked away, down at her bare toes, "It is my deepest shame," she said quietly, and instantly she felt his eyes on her, watching her intently, but she kept her eyes downcast, "I...I built it in a spiral of madness, driven by grief and sorrow and desperation...it is foul and yet..." she paused, closing her eyes tightly, "It is a marvel, one that not even I could ever replicate again".

"Hatter..."

She looked up sharply, her eyes snapping open at the soft, gentle sound of his voice, and she sucked in a deep breath and hastily stepped away from the bed, away from the Moment, which seemed to mock her as it sat on her bed. It was a stunning piece of work, inspired from ancient blueprints of similar weapons that she had come across, but none of them quite came close to comparing to this. She supposed that is what happens when you are a grief stricken mother who has lost everything and who wishes to see the beings reasonable burn. She never went through with it, obviously, but she had been inches from doing so, but upon realising what she had truly made, the horror of what she had done slapped her back to reality. In the end, she was not a killer, no matter what; she wasn't capable of doing that. She supposed she still had that to cling to as a last shred of comfort.

"Take it," she told him sharply, her voice suddenly hard and firm and gestured towards the Moment, "Take it, Doctor, and do what must be done. End this horrible, terrible war before the Universe is consumed".

"What?" the Doctor actually recoiled at her words, his face paling as he gaped at her. She might as well have slapped him in that moment, or told him that she hated him; in fact, she had never seen him look at her like that before. He tried reaching for her, but she stepped back from him and clasped her hands together behind her back, making him stop, his arm left hanging in the air between them, "Hatter..." he tried desperately, genuine fear and confusion twisting his features, "Please tell me you're coming with me".

The Hatter gazed back at him, her expression growing pained, but determined, "Don't even think about me, my Doctor," she said softly, but her voice was resigned and very sad, "Just do what must be done, I have made my choice. I am at peace".

"Made your peace...this is madness, Hatter!" he exclaimed, to the point of near shouting. She might have feared that someone would hear, but even if they did, no one would come and check on her. He marched forward and closed the gap between them, reaching up to grasp her shoulders, so that they stood just inches away, his eyes wild with fear and panic, "If you don't come with me you will die!"

"I know".

"You know?" he spluttered slightly, while she simply looked at him calmly. He was practically gasping for breath, clinging to her shoulders, and she wasn't even sure now if it was to try and get her to see sense, or if he simply couldn't stand without hanging onto something.

"Doctor..." she murmured, sadly, painfully, reaching up to cup his cheek. He eyes roamed his features, "I died long ago, my sweet, gentle, darling friend. I am at peace with this choice".

"I'm not! You're...you're asking me to...too..." he almost looked as if he might be sick, just trying to say the word, his voice chocked, "I'll be murdering you, Hatter!" he managed to get out, in a hushed, horrified whisper, lifting his hands up to press against the side of her face, cradling her head between his hands as he gave her a pleading look, "I can't...I won't..."

"I am one woman in this Universe, if you don't do this then everyone will die. That is a sacrifice I have always been willing to make, one that you have been willing to make in regards to your own life".

"You're not just one woman to me," he insisted, tears shinning in his eyes and breaking free, rolling down his aged, sagging cheeks, "Hatter..." he shook his head, his words trembling with emotion, "Please don't do this, please...I need you".

The Hatter felt her eyes fill with tears and for the first time in a very, very long time she felt a spark of fresh grief wash over her. Her hearts were shattering watching him, seeing the agony on his face, the desperation and pleading in his frantic eyes, how his tears rolled down his cheeks. He was not meant to cry, he was a warrior, the best Gallifrey had ever seen...and yet she had reduced him to tears. She closed her eyes and tried to steady herself, her own resolve.

"You must promise me that you will go on," she said firmly, opening her eyes to look at him sadly, her voice choked by her own tears and sorrow. He shook his head, but she went on, "Promise me, Doctor, because the Universe needs you, it always will, and you will need to be strong for that..."

"No..." he breathed, "Hatter, stop..."

"You will live on," she continued determinedly, smiling tearfully up at him, "And you will be a hero and kind and...and just...fantastic. Always fantastic, my sweetheart," her voice shook, but she was determined to keep going, even while he shook his head at her, still pleading with her silently, "And you must promise me that you will find someone, someone who will take care of you and be your friend, because I don't want you to be alone. You can't be alone..."

"Come with me, then!" he burst out, with enough force to almost shake her.

She shook her head, biting her lip briefly, "Promise me, Doctor," she said instead; needing to hear him promise her that he would live on, that he wouldn't shut himself away from the world...she needed to know that he was going to be okay.

"Hatter, please..."

"Doctor, promise me!"

"I...I can't..."

"You have to!" she snapped, seizing on a tiny shred of anger to fuel her, to push her on, "This is my final request, Doctor, and you will give it to me".

The Doctor froze, his eyes widening in shock, and perhaps it was the moment that it finally hit him that she truly meant it. She had made up her mind to die, she was not going to leave with him, no pleading, no tears, no nothing was enough to convince her to follow him. He actually stumbled away from her, his hands falling from her, reaching out instead to grab the post of her bed, keeping himself upright as he stared at her with a horrible look of realisation in his eyes. And then, slowly, he closed his eyes and lowered his head. He dragged in a shuddering breathe.

"I promise," he whispered, a look of agony crossing his features, just uttering those words.

The Hatter almost stumbled back herself, her knees suddenly weak and she felt physical ill. He had actually conceded, she never imagined that he would, she thought he would fight, that he would perhaps even simply knock her out and drag her along with him against her will...but he didn't. Perhaps it spoke of their friendship that he respected her wish enough to accept her choice, even if it caused him such obvious agony. Like a child, she felt like shouting that she hadn't meant it, that she had changed her mind, but she wasn't a child. She swallowed, thickly, and held her head high as she walked closer to him.

"Thank you," she said softly, pressing a tender, lingering kiss against his cheek, allowing her lips to stay against his skin far longer than a friend ought to...but this was the last time she would ever see him, she wanted him to know that she loved him, so very dearly, and that he would always be her best friend. She knew what she asked of him, the pain she caused him. This kiss...it was her silent attempt to tell him how desperately sorry she was that it had to be him.

"Hatter, I..." he looked at her heartbrokenly, his devastation written across his features.

"You must go," she breathed, pulling away from him and stepping back, "You have precious little time to act, Doctor, or it will all be for nothing. Go".

It was something of a blur to her, the next few seconds that followed, or perhaps she had simply closed her eyes and hadn't noticed. One moment he was there and in the next he was just...gone, taking the Moment with him. She slowly sunk to her knees when she realised that he truly was gone and buried her face into her knees, great, heavy sobs shaking her body. The look on his face...how he had pleaded with her...God, it was horrible. And she had caused that, she had made him suffer like that. She had never felt more cruel and horrible then she did now. Her fingers curled into her short hair, tugging painfully at the strands, but it was nothing to how badly her hearts hurt.

"He's going to be okay," she sobbed to herself, like a child, her tears muffled into her knees as she lightly rocked herself, "He's going to be okay, he's going to be okay..."

It was a lie, one she couldn't bring herself to believe, now that he was no longer standing before her, now that she had utterly broken down. Oh, God...what had she done? The full force of her actions hit her like lightening, she could practically see in her mind how broken he would be after this, he would isolate himself, detach himself, grow colder and perhaps harsher...she hoped that he would find someone else, someone he could look to for friendship and support, but she knew it wouldn't be enough. Deep down, it could never be enough, not for a Time Lord, for a lone Time Lord in the Universe was a terrible thing to consider, she realised. Never fully understood, never known, he'd just be a mystery, just like his past companions had viewed him, but at least they had known that the Time Lords were out there to watch over things, it gave the Doctor a sense of realness. Now, without the Time Lords to ground him, what would become of him? She slowly stilled and lifted her face, wet and blotchy from tears.

"What have I done?" she gasped, curling her arms around her knees, pulling them up closer to her chest, beneath her chin. This was the Doctor...she was supposed to be there for him, supposed to be his best friend...and she had betrayed him in his hour of need.

Desperately, her mind began to swirl with ways to fix this, because she had to fix it, she had made the worst mistake of her life, not because she was about to die, but because the Doctor was about to be alone and she couldn't let that happen to him. She just couldn't. There was means of contacting him, of course, but she couldn't risk it being incepted, it was to high of risk for her to even try and seek him out when they had not spoken in so long, the Time Lords would be monitoring...She roughly rubbed at her face, wiping it clean of tears and rose shakily to her feet, starting to pace the length of the room frantically, grabbing at her hair with enough force to almost pull it from her head. There had to be a way, there always was...

And then it hit her.

She stopped so sharply she had to brace herself on the post of her bed, her eyes widening. The Time Lords monitored all ships that came in and out of Gallifrey...but that was only because they were monitoring for Time Lords attempting to flee, they picked up on their genetic signature and could immediately determine who it was from that, but if she was human...they wouldn't be able to tell. They likely wouldn't even notice. It was a flaw; after all, that she had implemented herself knowingly, just in case. But it was still an incredible risk, she had no way of knowing if she would be found by the Doctor as a human, but if he recognised her...perhaps then it would work.

She practically flung herself across the room and over to her desk, littered by random bits of paper work and blueprints, some left laid out, while others had been rolled up neatly. She ignored it all and grabbed the handle of the top left drawer, pulling it open with enough force to send the drawer and its contents across the floor. Pens, spare paper, old letters came spewing out across the floor, but it was the silver fob watch that she grabbed for frantically, covered in Gallifreyan symbols of her family home. It was scratched up rather badly from years of being in pockets full of random bits of junk, but it would work just as well as always.

"It will do," she murmured to herself, clasping her hand tightly around the watch, before shoving it inside her trouser pockets. She cast the bedroom a quick look, but she realised, looking at it, that there was nothing there that she wished to take with her. No keep sakes, no pictures, nothing. She wouldn't miss this house, though it was her childhood home, it had always felt more prison-like then homely.

The Hatter turned on her heel and swiftly crossed the room, heading for the bedroom door without pausing, without considering anything else, because she had to right the wrong she had just made. She had done the worst thing she had ever done to the Doctor and she had to fix it, as much as she could...she had to try. She didn't care if someone tried to stop her, her mother could stand in her path and she would just keep on walking, same with her cousins, but she doubted if they would. Her mother might, but her cousins wouldn't care. She threw the doors open and practically ran down the hallway, her only thought on getting to her TARDIS, housed downstairs in the TARDIS vault.

Perhaps if she hadn't been so focused and single minded on her plan, she would have noticed how deathly silent everything was, how still the air felt...and during war time, such stillness was never a good sign. It spoke of impending doom, something she should have realised, but she didn't. She didn't even recall the actual blast that hit her house, all she knew was that one second she was running down a hallway and the next she was suddenly chocking on a mouthful of dust and rubble, her body shaking with agony. She felt as though someone had blasted her very insides, her internal organs felt as if they were burning up and she barely opened her eyes enough to be able to see that she was lying sprawled across the ground, dust filling the air and bits of rubble still raining down.

The entire side of the house had been torn apart, the Daleks had been edging closer to her family home for over a decade now, but by all reports it had remained safe enough for them to continue to reside within it. Evidently, with the war now teetering right on the edge, that safety was utterly gone. She wondered, while she remained lying partly covered in rubble, her very insides burning and her head spinning, while waves of crushing nausea washed over her, if they had determined where she lived at long last. The Daleks had been attempting to find her location since the Time War began, coming close only once before. Maybe they finally got the right coordinates, or perhaps it was just dumb luck. Regardless, it was laughably poor timing.

She laughed and cried, all at once, because there was no other reaction she could have. Perhaps she had finally gone mad. She broke off with a strangled cry, curling in upon herself as a spasm of pain tore through her chest, sending bits of rubble that had fallen on her off her as her entire body shook from agony. She felt a scream bubbling in her throat, but she bit down upon her lips so hard that she tasted blood, just to stop it from spilling free from her lips. She had to get out of this...she had to get to her TARDIS...she had to fix her mistake. She gagged, whether from pain, dust, or the taste of blood, she didn't know, nor care, but she simply had to ride through with it, sucking in desperate breathes, though it felt like breathing in shards of glass. Had she broken her ribs?

The Hatter had never considered herself to be weak, not even physically, sure, she wasn't very strong, especially in this body, but she had always made up for any physical lacking by her strong will and determination, and right now she was using every single ounce of that to try and drag her weak, battered body up, only to freeze. She caught sight of her hand, how it was glowing with bright yellow and orange energy, and it hit her, almost as hard as half the house's roof collapsing on her had: she was regenerating. She hadn't even realised, maybe she had cracked her head harder then she thought, but she could feel it tingling through her fingertips, beneath the pain and everything else, she could feel it approaching, the end of this body and the beginning of the next.

"No," she breathed, helplessly, horrified, staring at her hand as the glow dimmed and faded, but she knew it was starting to spread, starting to change her cells, preparing to change everything, "No, no, no, no...this can't be happening," she shook her head, but already she could see the cuts on her hands healing, feel her ribs knitting back together, even her head felt clearer..., "No, please...this wasn't supposed to happen!"

She was supposed to remain in this body, so the Doctor might have a hope of one day finding her, of knowing it was her...he'd never know now. She might as well just give up, but she was still the Hatter, even if she didn't feel like that woman anymore, and the Hatter didn't just give up after a set back...even a pretty damn dooming setback, as regenerating into another body was. She dragged herself up, covered head to toe in dust, but her body was slowly healing itself, knitting back together, until she had nothing but a dull, burning pain brewing deeply in her chest. She wouldn't be able to hold it off long, she had been badly damaged before the energy had healed her, which had used up precious time she might have had to hold it off.

She pushed on, stumbling over rubble and cracked and broken beams that had once held up the ceiling, walking over slabs of stone that had been blasted apart. She heard, in the distance, the sound of the Daleks calling out to one another, but they hadn't spotted her yet...she kept going, stumbling and tripping her way downstairs, her mind set on what she must do, because if she stopped for a moment, she feared her body would give out on her before she had a chance to do what must be done. She wondered if her mother had been harmed in the explosion...as a daughter, a part of her hoped not, but everything else inside her couldn't bring herself to care. On she pushed, moving through the house that had once been her family home, a house that was more prison then home, until she found herself stumbling into the TARDIS vault chamber at the very basement of the house.

Her legs gave way, then, just as she unlocked her TARDIS doors, and she tripped straight into the console room, landing with a pain groan. It comforted her, at least, this room, it had been her home far more then that old house had been, it eve smelt like home to her, glittering in copper lighting, lined by book shelves all around the walls of the console room, her favourite armchair sat on the side of the room with a table next to it, littered with books. If she had to choose somewhere to die...she was pleased, at least, it was this place.

It took all of her strength left to stand and shut the doors behind her, her feet unsteady as she crossed the room to the console, frowning as she looked down at her hand. It glowed brightly, almost mocking her as she turned it over, wiggling her fingers...she wondered what she would be like, the next her. She hoped she would be kind again, kind and gentle and compassionate...maybe she would even finally get an olive or darker complexion this time around. She hoped so, pale and paler got bloody boring.

"Well..." she sighed grimly, resigned as she watched the regeneration energy glow and spiral around her fingers, "I suppose there's no bother waiting..."

She sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes, spreading her arms out on either side of herself as she allowed herself to give in to the pull...it hurt, as it always did, she felt a scream be ripped from her lips as her body became consumed by white hot energy, pulsing through every single cell and nerve ending, changing her, rewriting her, and then it was over and she was collapsing onto her hands and knees, gasping for breath. She absently tossed her hair back and blinked, finding deep, coppery waves. So she was a red head again, huh? Interesting, she'd been that twice before, in a row, too.

"Ooh, I think I like it...Oh!" she paused, breaking off into a delighted laugh as the sound of her new voice filled her ears, her hand flying up to her throat, her lips stretching into a wide grin, "New voice, sounds pretty decent...I was a bit worried it'd be all squeaky or throaty or something, but nope! Not half bad..." she frowned slightly and reached up to touch her face, running her hand over then new grooves and features, "I'm fairly young, too, no wrinkles...face is a bit on the round side, though. I hope I don't have a moon-face or something, but at least the nose isn't massive. That's always a bit of a worry..."

She dropped her hand from her face and slowly rose from the floor, standing taller and taller, and blinked slightly in surprise. She was very tall, this body, with legs that went on for miles, her old trousers were at least three inches up her leg, while her corset felt a little less full in the cup area. Not that it matter greatly, in that regard, she was just curiously observing herself. Her skin, she realised with a sigh, was very pale, once again, judging by the back of her hands. She considered ducking off to find a mirror to check out her face properly, but she still had a job to do, regeneration might have put a small pause on that, but she knew what must be done.

"I hope there isn't any side effects from doing this right after regeneration," she frowned faintly to herself, slipping her pocket watch from her pocket and moving around the console. She hit a button she never imagined she would need to use, and immediately a curious helmet-like device began to slowly descend from a hatch in the bronze ceiling, coming down to her perfect height. She placed the watch into the circular holding port, slotting it perfectly into place, before sighing as she paused to regard the helmet warily, "I suppose...the worst that can happen is I'll forget some bits and pieces. I suppose it's worth the risk..."

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how we got the Ninth Hatter and how the Doctor got the Moment. I've been waiting ages to get a chance to write this and publish it, and I believe I have been asked to write it before as a one-shot, but I always knew I wanted to keep it for my opening for the Fiftieth special. It just felt like it would fit so perfectly, so I hope you liked it. It also explains why the Hatter has very limited memory of her time as a human...apparently, there are side effects from using a Chameleon Arch post-regeneration.

I truly do hope you enjoyed, I've looked forward for this story for so, so long, so...enjoy the ride! Tell me what you thought, please review :)

Guest Reviews:

Guest 15: Hmm, curious, then. I'm not sure what's going on, I actually copied what you had typed and then did a Google search from that. Worked for the other links, not for the others. I think the Hatter would be pretty horrified and just shocked by how dark he had really gone, I feel like she would be torn about what to do. I could see her spending a lot more time travelling with him than usual, acting as if she was just doing it because she was bored and wanted to hang out with him...but the truth would be she was worried for him, which he would naturally see straight through. I could see it possibly causing a bit of tension between them. I think that Ace's departure is a very sad one, but not very unexpected. I feel like there was a lot of raw emotion there and you could really tell that she had just been driven to her limit with the Doctor and his treatment of her and others. It was very sad, knowing how those two began.

Guest 16: That's very true, Six is far from the first or only Doctor to have killed, I'm still kind of stunned that Four snapped someone's neck on screen, I think I actually had to pause that moment and just kind of process what I had just seen...I don't think I've finished processing yet. But yeah, suffocating someone is kind of a long death, not like knocking someone into a vat of acid or snapping their neck, both of which are pretty nasty, but as least their swift.

Guest (1): I likely would include those companions, yeah, but only if I can think of a scene that would work with them. But yeah, if an idea came to me, I'd write for them, too.

Guest 11: I mean, sure, I could certainly do that and I'm quite tempted, I possibly will in the end, but I'm also kind of torn. I hate when they retcon things in shows, I kind of feel hypercritical doing it to my own story when it's something I've complained about them doing on Doctor Who. But hey, maybe. Like I said, I'm very tempted to just do something like that, if only if it means getting rid of the whole Gifted One thing, finally.

Guest (2): The series is most assuredly not ending any time soon, but, yes, the Hatter is on her last body. So...spoilers :)

Guest 13: I'll keep that in mind, thanks. I've got ideas for a one-shot with him.

Guest (3): No, I didn't know, but I do like the idea. Sounds like an interesting adventure, I liked the whole searching for the Key to Time plot.

Guest (4): Yep, I would, for sure. I love making references to Classic Who, so I would certainly make references to audio dramas, if and when I ever get into them.

Guest (4): I'm actually quite excited that he's returning to Doctor Who in any sort of media, and I really, really hope we do see him back on the screen as Nine again. I'm not holding my breath on it, though, but I hope he will come back, one day, in person, for even just a one minute long scene or something like that. It's such a shame that he had seemingly just tried to forget he'd ever been on the show, but now that he is returning, I have hope we'll see him on our screens again

Guest 9: That's actually one of the things that makes me interested in the audio dramas, how they have loads more multi-Doctor stories. It really makes me want to listen to the audio dramas, just to see how each Doctor plays off one another, you know?