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The two Time Lords, who were the same Time Lord, mirrored each other in the dark street, standing with their feet apart, hands on their hips. Yet they were complete opposites
Converses opposite Doc Martins. Black jeans opposite pinstripes. Dark green jumper opposite a shirt and tie. And more pinstripes. Leather jacket opposite a trench coat. Mouth held tight opposite a mouth that constantly kept moving. A prominent nose opposite a nose with freckles and tears running down the side. The large ears opposite small ears. Short, shaved dark brown nearly black hair opposite big, brown hair which would never tame into obedience so he never tried, just ran his hands though it.
Two pairs of eyes. One blue and one brown. One dry, one filled with tears.
Both with the knowledge of the worlds in them.
It was the leather jacketed Time lord to speak first.
"You say you're the Doctor...?"
"I am the Doctor!" the suited man replied.
An eyebrow was raised. The mouth twitched slightly. "Next regeneration?"
"After you, yes. I'm Mister Number Ten, you see. Like Downing Street, you know? Remember Downing Street? And-"
"I'm not stupid!"
The suited man grimaced and took a deep breath, falling silent as the stranger continued.
"How can I be sure? You could be ANYONE pretending to be me! Enough people on earth know, UNIT for one! Who are you?"
A lesser man would have took to his heels and ran at the stance of the other man. It was aggressive. It was agitated. It screamed anger and defiance.
But why should I be afraid of myself?
"Ask me a question that only we know the answer to. Go on? If I can answer it then all jolly good. I'm you! You're me. Or you will be, anyway. Come on. I even remember this. Snap-"
Oh, fabulous. He was going to regenerate into someone permanently afflicted with verbal diarrhoea.
"What am I meant to ask you?"
"Well..."
Tell him everything...
"I'll tell you some of the things that I know. The last High Lady President of Gallifrey was Romanadvotrelundar, remember her? Of course you do. Well, you should. I do. Anyhow. That was when we had teeth, curls, a long scarf and a fondness for jelly babies. I still like jelly babies now. You do too! You have a secret stash of them underneath the Victorian kitchen -with the dodgy painting of Mr Number Eight done by that American nutter- sink. And don't deny it."
Does he... do I... Will I... ever pause for breath?
Still he continued. This was actually getting quite amusing, he had to make himself realize who he was.
Mr Number Nine pushed away the mention of Romana, but then UNIT might have known that, he might of told them, not likely but perhaps, oh and Chris Parsons he knew about Romana, after the business with Shada. So this man didn't have to be him.
"Our nickname at the Prydon Academy was Theta Sigma. My... our granddaughter was Susan. Susan, who..." The man took a deep breath and then started again, "The Time War, I could tell you all about it."
TOO FAR!
Oh God. It was him alright, then.
"Stop!" he ordered commandingly, blue eyes blazing. Best to solve the issue and stop being haunted by the ghost of Christmas Future in York. It was hard to believe that sometime soon- or not so soon if he could help it- he would become this man, and he would come back and...
"There must be a reason why you're here!" he exclaimed arrogantly, folding his arms and leaning back, a smirk on his face. "Only the Time Lords could do this..."
He gestured with his hands at the two of them and the space around them, to the evening stars beginning to glint in the sky and to the other man. Who he would be... why was he crying? Did sorrow haunt him everywhere, or something?
"Look why are you- I- we here?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, his arms gesturing wildly. "And why are you crying?"
The other Doctor's face was downcast, a tear dropping miserably from his cheek as his lips formed one word.
"Rose."
He felt his stomach drop unpleasantly at the other man's answer. The bottom seemed to go out of it, and suddenly, he was falling.
Falling into darkness with nothing to grip onto, no matter how hard he tried.
Days of doom and gloom. His worst fear come true.
"Is she dead?"
The question was out before he realized what he'd said and he kicked himself, because he knew he couldn't do anything about this now. He wasn't allowed to tell himself the future.
So the fact that he got an answer startled him.
"No. As good as."
Oh, so he'd talk in riddles too.
Pushing aside the horrible feeling in his stomach, he frowned.
"You know you can't tell me what happens, don't-"
"Of course I do!" the suited man's reply was defensive. He could see himself in himself. Scary.
He raised his head. "This is going to sound stupid. So stupid. But look after her."
Himself or not himself, this was silly.
"What do you take me for?"
"Let her know how you- how we- feel. Felt. Will feel. Still feel."
For the first time, a look of fear crossed the younger incarnation's face. He was no longer a mighty, sneering man who would rid the world of all of the scum. He was a confused, lost little boy who'd seen too many things in too many lives.
"I-I-"
"You'll regret it."
"But-"
"Doctor! There you are!"
A joyous shout from around the corner broke through the conversation between the two- last? Only? - Gallifreyans.
Rose skipped around the aforementioned corner, clutching three cartons containing hot, greasy chips. It made the older Doctor feel sick to look at them, at her being so alive.
"Rose!"
She grinned at the pair, turning her head to the younger Doctor and tilting her head to one side.
"I thought we could all go for a walk together? Down the riverside? It's only around the corner. And they've got people. Buskin' an' stuff. Please?"
She put a hand on his shoulder, smiling at the other Doctor (though she didn't know it yet, he realized with a pang). "You could come too. You seem alright. Good deeds for the day an' all that? Please?"
Both Doctors nodded simultaneously, one aware of how little time he'd probably got left with her before he regenerated and then before... she left, the other wondering how he'd wasted that time so badly.
How could they stop her from doing what she wanted when time was so short?
She was special. She was Rose.
"Of course."
The younger Doctor, or Mister Number Nine as the older one thought of him, linked hands with Rose. And though it was a simple, normal gesture, it broke the older Doctor's hearts all over again. Because she was now his past. And he would waste their future together.
Written by Let'sDoTheTimeWarpAgain and Scout Girl
BETAed by Scout Girl and Let'sDoTheTimeWarpAgain
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