Chapter 3

Author's Note – *facepalm to linebreaks* That is entirely embarrassing.

The TARDIS flew smoothly, and the console room was silent. The Doctor sat by the console, his trainers up on the controls. His fingers were interlaced behind his head as he watched his counterpart with interest. He'd spent the entire flight researching the TARDIS's records. Occasionally he'd laugh quietly to himself, which the Doctor found disconcerting.

The cloister bell began to ring. The Doctor stood up, unconcerned.

"It's just a warning that we're close to breaching my time line."

The other shook his head, and pushed the display over. "Unfortunately not."

The Doctor squinted at the screen. "It's can't be." He murmured, tapping the display. The ship shuddered violently, throwing him on the controls. He grabbed franticly at the controls and kept from falling to the floor as the TARDIS shook again. He looked up to find the 8th Doctor standing calmly by him, manipulating the controls.

"Not as graceful as she once was." Said the 8th as he walked around the console, stopping to briefly adjust the thermal regulator. The ship quieted, yet the bell continued to ring.

The Doctor glanced at the display again, then to the 8th. "What do you think you're doing?"

"If the TARDIS finds this rift so important, so should I. You. We." He sighed. "How awkward."

"Whatever disaster Jack has caused now isn't as important as finding..."

"Clearly."

The 10th Doctor stared at his counterpart. "Then turn the TARDIS around!" He said angrily.

The 8th Doctor tapped another control, and returned the 10th's glare with a calm, steady gaze. "While you have spent your time with friends and adventure, the last years of my life have been spent in battle, in blood, and in solitude."

The 10th moved to speak, but was cut off.

"Everything I worked to restore I have seen destroyed a thousand times over by observing the splinters in time. Out of the horrors the only thing I saw that offered a glimpse of hope, of life, was this reality. If you have any understanding, any empathy, you will allow me to -" The 8th Doctor sighed deeply, and stepped away from the console.

"I apologize. Please, do as you will." He said quietly. His eyes were fixed on the floor.

The 10th slowly walked up, and placed his hand on his shoulder.

"I understand." The 10th said softly, removing his hand.

There was a pause, and the cloister bell chimed again.

"Thank you." Said the 8th, extending his hand.

The Doctor took his and shook, smiling. "I'm very welcome."

Donna had once before experienced being a passenger in her own mind. It was at a bar, and she had so much to drink she'd found herself sitting with a man 40 years her senior. She'd watched with horror as she drunkenly hit on him, absolutely disgusted with herself. It was one of her mates that'd saved her, dragging her out of the bar and back to her flat.

She really didn't believe anyone was going to save her now.

Her hands were deftly connecting wires to her rings. The wires lead up to the rift generator, in which an amulet had been placed. It sparkled, not with light, but with the energy. At her feet lay Jack. She wished she could shut her eyes, but the more she reacted the longer her eyes lingered on him. He was dead, eyes staring up blankly. Wires pushed their way through the flesh in his neck and arms.

He was dead, and she had killed him.

"Almost finished." Donna said, walking to one of the computer systems. "One more touch, and you'll have your body back. And so will I."

Stop. Please, stop. She pleaded.

"Stop? Haven't I show you enough? These people are your enemies, Donna. They stole your memory, took your life." Donna smiled. "Don't you want your revenge?"

No, not like this! She screamed.

"Too bad." Donna said, typing quickly. She slapped the keyboard one last time victoriously.

"Ready!" She grinned, running back to the rift generator. She watched her hands take more wires, push them through her skin. She knew it should hurt, but felt nothing. Black, red, and yellow snaked up her arms, through her neck.

Her eyes were fixed on a distant computer display. From below she heard a gasp.

Jack? She said, wishing desperately to look down. Maybe, through some miracle, he wasn't dead.

Donna sighed. Her eyes never left the console, but her foot stomped firmly down. She heard a sick, crunching sound. Her vision shifted down, just for a second. Jack looked up at her, eyes large and angry. Blood trickled from where the heel of her boot had sunk through his neck. His mouth moved, but no sound came out.

"Shhh." Whispered Donna, finger to her smiling lips. "I'll be finished with you soon."

Her eyes returned to the display. The ground began to vibrate, then shake.

"Complete rift reintegration in three seconds." Came a computerized voice. It echoed, stretched and became garbled as energy from the rift began to saturate the air. It crackled through the wires, flowed through the rings and finally to the necklace which glowed so brightly it seemed that it would burn a hole through reality itself. Jack screamed, and the noise seemed so far away Donna hardly noticed. In her mind, the burning glowing white severed her vision and her senses. She was completely alone in the light, in silence.

At her feet was the body of the man from the theater. She knelt down, and looked into his face. He was completely still. Glancing down to his chest, Donna saw no movement. A hand over his mouth revealed no breath.

Donna covered her mouth. Another dead.

"Did I kill again?" She whispered, putting her hand on the man's chest.

The jolt that ran through her arm caused Donna to be thrown backwards. She rolled on her side, cradling her arm. It burned fiercely, the pain worsening. It was as though a branding iron had been drug from her forehead to fingers. For a moment even her consciousness waned, so much so she didn't even notice the shadow over her until it cleared it's throat.

Rolling again, Donna looked up into the smallish face of the man. His eyes were dark and sparkling, his suit crisp. He extended his hand casually, observing her.

Reaching up to take his hand, Donna felt her mind become slow. Her vision narrowed, till all that was left was the man's face. She felt backwards, and he made no effort to catch her. In the second between her head cracking into the floor and her eyes closing, she experienced a thought that was completely alien.

She knew his name, and the realization flooded her with regret.

The smell of rich, black tea permeated the TARDIS. The Doctors sat cross legged on the floor of the console room. Between them was a bamboo plater containing a bone white tea service.

"Are you sure you won't reconsider?" Asked the 8th.

The 10th smiled as he lifted his tea. "Absolutely not. I'm never going back."

"Not even for a moment?"

"Progress is change." Quipped the 10th in between sips.

"Indeed, progress is change, and change is indicative of time." Said the 8th quickly. "And I'm certain you'd agree, time is cyclical. Everything that has had it's time will come again, hm?"

"You know, I've been to the end of the universe." Whispered the 10th.

"And?" Asked the Doctor, puzzled.

"And even then, the TARDIS didn't go back to that Gothic nightmare." The 10th said, victory in his voice. He took a long sip of tea.

"If I become the sort of man that doesn't believe in proper furniture, who takes his tea on the floor, then I might as well stop regenerating!" Laughed the 8th.

"If memory serves, you nearly did."

The Doctor put down his tea, his blue eyes icy. "If you'd care to sling insults, I must decline. Apparently, I'm not that sort of man – yet."

"You should know what sort of man you are." Sniffed the 10th. "And the fact that you don't has me worried, to be honest. Because if you'd really seen this splinter of time, or fragment, or parallel you'd know. You would have known where to find your next regeneration, you wouldn't have bothered with this Bezulium necklace."

The 8th Doctor stood, his arms crossed. He glared down, and found the intensity returned.

"I'd really like an explanation before the TARDIS lands." Said the 10th, his voice low.

"What was it like, when you gave up Rose for the second time?" Asked the Doctor, the new name almost familiar on his lips.

The Doctor felt his hearts tighten. He stood up, and kicked the tray out of his path. Circuits popped and hissed as the liquid started a cascade of shorts. The Doctor stood above the sparks, steam curling around his trainers, as he came inches from himself.

"I never give up." He growled.

"Neither do I."

The Doctor's eyes opened in realization. "Charlie." The 10th said, his voice crestfallen.

"Do you remember where we left her?"

The 10th blinked. "No. No, I don't. Why can't I remember?"

"Because Charlie was special. She knew how to keep us safe. Much too safe, apparently."

"Safe? What do you mean, safe?"

The TARDIS shuddered. "Clearly we must discuss this at a latter time." Said the 8th.

"Oh no. No no no no no, no. There's time before we land for you to answer this – Are you here for Charlie, or for the High Counsel?"

The 8th Doctor grabbed a support beam to keep from being tossed as the ship shuddered again.

"Although they do not know, I am here for both." The simple words were in sharp contrast to his tone and face, both deeply pained. "And now, Doctor, we've reached our destination. Perhaps we can continue at a later date."

"Count on it." Said the 10th, already striding towards the doors.

The Master stood triumphantly, his head back. He felt the air fill his lungs, felt the blood begin to move in rhythm to his hearts. Electricity flowed through his nerves again, and he smiled. He looked down to the bodies below him. Smoke flowed through the grating and over Jack's body. The wiring had melted under his skin, causing deep burns over his neck and arms. The blood around the puncture wound in his neck was dried and flaking. The Master grinned and turned away.

Donna lay unconscious. While she was burned, she was still breathing.

"Good." He murmured, stepping away to the computer consoles. "And now, to call some transportation."

Humans were so logical, so simple. Even their 'advanced' computers with neural filing systems were controlled by predictable rules. It took only a few keystrokes to subvert them to his will, and start his search. Casually, he browsed the Torchwood archives. He became so absorbed he hardly noticed the unobtrusive 'ding' from the console.

A grin spread over his face. "Yes. Oh, yes." He began tapping away again. A fresh breeze began to blow through the room. The Master breathed in, and paused.

Not fresh air. No, air so old it had no age, smells so forgotten they always smelt new. There came a rasping, grating sound as reality tore and stretched. Below him, the wind became a gale and the noise shook the foundations of the building. The TARDIS materialized below him.

"Now, how to greet you, Doctor?" He asked, reaching below the console. His hands felt the grip of a handgun stowed underneath the keyboard. Pulling it out, he checked the clip. Full. Safety off.

"Really, I'd only need one, but the more the merrier." He said happily, cautiously approaching the TARDIS. Standing at the doors, he would have felt reverence for the machine, if it weren't occupied by him. He leveled the gun at the door, at just the right height to put down the skinny, dark eyed Time Lord with one shot. He would open the door, and find the barrel of the gun on his forehead. The thought filled the Master with glee.

Nothing happened.

The Master grew bored. Carefully he took one hand and knocked, swiftly returning it to steady the gun.

Nothing.

He kicked the door, pounded on it. No one answered. The Master growled at the door, kicked it again.

"Have you checked for a spare?"

He whipped around, gun levied at the smiling face of Donna. His eyes narrowed.

"You know, spare key?" She inquired again. The Master was silent. Donna laughed, and moved around him to the door. He followed her through the gun's sights.

Standing on her toes, which was very difficult considering her unfortunate choice of footwear, she felt above the ledge of the door.

"Almost... there!" She grunted triumphantly, turning around to show him a small, blue box. She offered it to him.

He took the box, and lowed the gun. Slowly he opened it, and the grin returned to his face. The silver key sat inside, only slightly tarnished with age. Still, he knew this was not the way it should have been.

His eyes still on Donna, he took the key to the door. He pushed aside the lock cover, and pushed the key in. He closed his eyes, inhaled, and turned. The doors creaked open.

The Master opened his eyes, and swiftly understood. Inside the TARDIS, it was gloomy and dusty. He took one step inside, and everything became clear to him. The luxurious red chair, the phonograph, the alter covered in white wax.

Donna stepped along side him. "So, going to stand there all day?"

"No." Said the Master, stepping to the console. Donna followed, and pulled the bulky display down by it's rope.

"I'm glad you understand Donna."

"Oh yes." She grinned. "I'll shut the doors, you know where you're going yeah?"

"Anywhere. Everywhere." He said, stroking the console.

The Doctor snapped his fingers as he strode towards the doors, and they flew open just as he stepped out. What he saw shocked him. The whole Torchwood complex looked decimated. Paperwork drifted in the water, and smoke rose from the rift generator beside which a body lay. All of this passed the Doctor's notice however, because the only thing he saw that mattered was the TARDIS sitting not thirty feet from his own.

"My TARDIS! What is it doing there?" Asked a voice behind him.

"And more importantly, who's in it?" Responded the Doctor.

Just then, a shadow came to the open doors of the TARDIS. Feet clad in heels stood at the threshold.

"Donna!" The Doctor cried out, bounding over the grating towards her. He was almost there when he hit a wall. He fell back, stunned. A hand took his, and helped him to his feet. He reached out and touched the air, which was solid.

"Why did you raise the shields? Donna!" He yelled, getting to his feet. He pounded on the shimmering air.

She smiled, and waved to 8th Doctor. Her lips moved, but there was no sound. Behind him, the 8th Doctor nodded, smiled and waved his hand in greeting. The Doctor looked behind him and then back to Donna. Her eyes were clear, sharp... and glowing. Ever so slightly, but it was there.

"It's nice to see you again, Doctor." Came her voice in his mind, matching her lips.

"Donna..." The Doctor whispered. "I'm so sorry."

She smiled at him, and winked. "Don't worry about me. Just remember."

"Remember what?" He asked, hands on the shields.

With that, she backed up, snapped her fingers, and the doors slammed shut.

"Donna! Remember what?" The Doctor yelled, pounding on the shields as the wind picked up. "Donna!"

Within a few seconds, the TARDIS was gone.