As I said in the previous A/N, I hated this episode. I really didn't...I actually really loved it...but it makes me cry every freaking time! The ending of MY Doctor kills me...but I like what DocWatson has come up with here...hope you do too! Doctor 11 is off and running...It took me a really long time to like Matt Smith's Doctor. Obsessed as I am about the fantastic and brilliant David Tennant, Smith's lucky I love the Doctor more than any old actor...But this is where this story ends...perhaps, once I've caught up on all the OTHER fandoms I have promised stories to, I will come back and continue this story or write a sequel...I also have a couple of other DW ideas...but DocWatson has promised that I may work on his and Sherlock's as well as TomOllie's stories...so...away we go!
PS: Thanks so much for all your support and wonderful comments about this story!
The fall broke nearly every bone in his body. Even a Time Lord has his limits, but he knew that his only way of stopping the Master was to literally crash his party. He knew it would take a bit for his body to recover from the impact, but he was there. Hopefully, he would be able to talk the Master out of the madness.
"But this is fantastic, isn't it? The Time Lords restored!" the Master cooed.
"You weren't there in the final days of the War," the Doctor replied sadly, "You never saw what was born...but if the Timelock's broken, then everything's coming through. Not just the Daleks, but the Skaro Degradations…the Horde of Travesties…the Nightmare Child…the Could-have-been King with his army of Meanwhiles and Never-weres. The War turned into hell…and that's what you've opened, right above the Earth. Hell is descending."
"Yes, my child," came the Archangel's voice unbidden, "Hell is descending. The time is near."
"Really?" the Doctor replied in his head sarcastically, "I never would have guessed!"
"My kind of world!" the Master said, his madness taking over again.
"Just listen!" the Doctor yelled at the Master, trying to get him to see reason, "Because even the Time Lords can't survive that!"
"I can help, child," Metatron said softly, "Let me help. Your time is near."
"I don't need you!" the Doctor yelled in his head.
"But you do," he heard Metatron say with slyly, "I can help you survive this and you can barely move. Let me show you."
The Doctor felt the push of feathers against his head. The presence surrounded him and filled him and entered him through the pores in his skin.
"I thought you couldn't take over without my permission," the Doctor yelled as an overwhelming sense of warmth and well-being took over.
"Normally, I can't," the Archangel said, "However, as you are clearly in mortal danger due to the injuries you inflicted in that jump, I can override that little rule."
Metatron took control and suddenly, the broken bones were mending. Suddenly, the excruciating pain that he hadn't even realized he was feeling was gone. He felt himself rise and grab the gun and point it at Lord Rassilon.
"No!" the Doctor yelled. He felt he was yelling too much, especially since it really was all in his head, "You can't!"
"What were you going to do with it, Doctor?" the angel asked, "If not to shoot him, was it to shoot…him?"
Metatron spun his body around to face the Master and snapped the gun in place to take aim.
"Well, yes, but-" the Doctor stammered, "But no! I don't use guns! Guns are so permanent."
"Yet you have this one," the Archangel said, flipping back around to aim the gun at Rassilon once again, "Who do you think should die, Doctor? This is your choice."
"If it's my choice, give me bloody control," he said in a strong but quiet voice. Metatron had been watching the Doctor long enough to know that that particular inflection was deadly to those who didn't heed it. He had no fear of the Doctor, but gave him control anyway. It was then that they both saw the woman behind Rassilon, 'Mother' came the Doctor's unbidden thought, lower her eyes and look over the Doctor's shoulder. Metatron felt the moment when the Doctor made his decision.
The Doctor turned and aimed the gun at the Master once again.
"Get out of the way," he growled at the Master. The Master moved and the Doctor shot at the Whitepoint Star housed in the machine. The bullet pierced the diamond and the machine exploded. The Time Lords behind Rassilon disappeared.
"The link is broken," the Doctor yelled, turning back to the Lord President, "Back into the Time War, Rassilon! Back into hell!"
"You'll die with me, Doctor," Rassilon said as he raised his hand.
"I know," the Doctor said sadly.
"There is still time, my child," Metatron said softly. The Doctor could feel his control slipping again. He could feel Metatron's need to take over his body and make something happen.
"No," he replied to the Archangel, "if this is where I die, then it is meant to be."
"It isn't," Metatron said as the Master came up beside the Doctor.
"Get out of the way," the Master said. The Doctor stepped aside for the Master as watched the energy bolts release from the Master's hands.
" You did this to me! All of my life! You made me!" he screamed at Rassilon, stepping closer with each bolt he sent into the Time Lord, "One! Two! Three! Four!"
Rassilon was forced to his knees. The force of the earthquake knocked the Doctor off his feet. He watched from the marble floor as the Time Lords and the Master disappeared in a flash of bright light and energy. He rolled from his back to his side and suddenly realized something.
"I'm alive," he said quietly, "I've- There was- I'm still alive!"
He started laughing as he got to his knees. He had survived the prophecy, to his great surprise. Then, he heard: knock, knock, knock, knock. And his hearts stopped.
"I'm sorry, child," Metatron said sorrowfully, "I'm so so sorry."
Knock, knock, knock, knock. The end had not come. Knock, knock, knock, knock. But it was about to come. He turned and sat on his haunches to see Wilfred in the control booth. Knock, knock, knock, knock. He looked over at Wilf and Wilf waved.
"They gone, then? Yeah?" he asked, "Good-o. If you could let me out?"
"Yeah," the Doctor said on a sigh, the tears gathering in his eyes for a different reason now. He was dead. He didn't want to die.
"Only, this thing seems to be making a bit of a noise," Wilfred said, the fear growing in his voice a little.
"The Master left the Nuclear Bolt running," the Doctor said as he stood, "It's gone into overload."
"And that's bad, is it?"
"No," he said honestly, standing in front of the booth, "because all the excess radiation gets vented inside there. Vinvocci glass…contains it," It hurt him to look at Wilf. He knew what he had to do, but it was killing him. He really didn't want to die, but he wasn't going to let Wilf die in his place. "All five hundred thousand rads, about to flood that thing."
"Oh," Wilf said, understanding what he was in for, "Well, you'd better let me out, then."
"Except it's gone critical," the Doctor said, pulling his sonic screwdriver from the pocket of his jacket, "Touch one control and it floods. Even this would set it off."
"I'm sorry," Wilf said after looking at the lock on the door.
"Sure," the Doctor replied so softly, the tears filling his eyes. He put his screwdriver back in his pocket and turned away.
"Look," Wilf begged, "just leave me."
"Okay, right then, I will," he replied angrily, "Because you had to go in there, didn't you? You had to go and get stuck, oh yes. Because that's who you are, Wilfred. You were always this-. Waiting for me…all this time."
He couldn't even look at Wilfred. He couldn't let the man see that the decision had been made. But it had. It had been made long before that moment.
"No really," Wilfred said sadly, "just leave me. I'm an old man, Doctor. I've had my time."
"Well, exactly! Look at you!" he railed, "Not remotely important…But me? I could do so much more! So much more! But this is what I get! My reward...Well, it's not fair!" he screamed. When he threw everything off the console in front of him, he was not so much shocked as appalled by his anger. He didn't get angry. He didn't allow the anger any longer. That way led to madness. He looked at Wilfred in the control booth, scared and uncertain.
"I'm still with you, my child," the Archangel said quietly, "I can still help you."
"Oh!" he sighed, "Oh…lived too long."
"Be with me, angel," he said, "I don't know what's going to happen, but I really don't want to go through this alone."
"I am with you, Doctor," the Archangel said quietly, "This is not really the end. You will have your reward…your true reward for what you're about to do.
The Doctor stepped towards the booth and Wilf's eyes teared up, "No. No, no, please, please don't," he begged, "No, don't! Please don't! Please!"
"Wilfred, it's my honour," the Doctor said in reply with his hand on the unoccupied booth's door, "Better be quick!" he said, opening the door and shutting it, "Three, two, one!"
He didn't even have time to see that Wilf made it safely before the fifty thousand rads of energy coursed through his body. He felt the pain, felt the heat, felt his body melting, he turned and was able to see Wilfred's horrified face before he collapsed on the floor…and then he felt no more.
"I promised I would be here," he heard Metatron say from a distance, "You asked me to be with you. I am now a part of you. You have my strengths, but I cannot heal what has been done."
"Not to sound selfish," the Doctor said, "But what about my reward?"
"Rise, child," the angel said, "I will hold off your pain and the deterioration of your cells long enough for you to say your goodbyes."
He began to slowly uncurl, surprised the pain had subsided. He could feel it in the background, but it had felt worse only moments before.
"What?" Wilf said as he got to his knees, "Hello."
"Hi," he said, his voice rough.
"Still with us?" Wilf asked.
"The system's dead," he said in lieu of an honest response as he pulled himself to his feet, "I absorbed it all. Whole thing's kaput," he pressed on the glass door and it popped open, "Oh. Now it opens, yeah."
"Well, there we are, then. Safe and sound. Mind you, you're in hell of a state. You've got some battle scars there."
A small rush of pain hit him and he buried his face in his hands. As he rubbed his hands down to his chin, he felt the sores and scars sear away.
"But they've-" Wilf stuttered, "Your…face. How did you do that?"
The Doctor looked down at his hands, completely free of all blemishes.
"It's started," he replied simply.
Wilfred walked up to him and wrapped his arms around him. The Docotor inhaled deeply and said a quiet 'Thank you' to the Archangel that now cohabitated his failing body.
Metatron's only response was a very weak "You're welcome…now hurry."
In the moment it took the angel to speak, the Doctor felt all the pain that was being kept from him. He turned out of Wilf's embrace and headed toward the TARDIS.
"Come, come, Wilf!" he said, trying to put on the positive façade for the old man, "Let's go see how the world fared this time!
He landed the TARDIS outside the Noble home. Sylvia was standing at the door as they left the TARDIS.
"Oh, she's smiling," the Doctor said seriously. Sylvia smiling was rare and frightening, "As if today wasn't bad enough…Anyway…don't go thinking this is goodbye, Wilf," he said, his eyes shifting around the neighbourhood, "I'll see you again…one more time."
"What do you mean?" he asked, "When's that?"
"Just keep looking," the Doctor responded, "I'll be there."
"Where are you going?" Wilfred asked.
"To get my reward," he replied sadly, his eyes filling with tears again. He stepped in the TARDIS and took off before Wilfred could see the sorrow in his eyes.
He saved Martha and her new husband, the idiot Mickey from the Sontaran. He pulled Luke out of the path of an oncoming car for Sarah. He set Jack up with Alonso. He met with Joan's beautiful great granddaughter and spoke with her. He went to Donna's wedding and left her a gift. He even got to see Rose before he'd ever really met her. He got his goodbyes. He got his reward.
But he knew time was up. He knew that Metatron, his new hitchhiker couldn't handle much more of the pain he was holding back.
"Let go, friend," he said quietly, "I know it's time and you are tired."
"Yes," Metatron sighed.
The pain became overwhelming. He could barely walk. He put one foot in front of the other as he stumbled toward the TARDIS. He fell in the snow in the middle of the road.
"Do you want to remember, Doctor?" Metatron asked, his voice stronger, "Do you need to keep them in your hearts? Or shall I wipe that memory, those memories? A fresh start? I will be here. I will be your companion in this. But I can take away those memories of hurt and longing."
"If I come back, I don't want to remember them…those I-I'm losing," he said with a grunt, "but I don't want to become like the Master."
"I will not let that happen," the Archangel said, "I will be your compass until you find a new companion. Once you've found the one."
"And once I have?" the Doctor asked, the pain growing more intense, "What happens to you then?"
"I will always be here, but you will know only when you ask for me…I will hide in the corners of your mind unless you talk directly to me. It is all I ask for…all I wish."
"But what about the me I am?" the Doctor asked quietly, suppressing the agony of physical pain he was feeling, "The me I've become? There's too much of me to not remember. If I survive this meltdown, I need to remember who I was."
"Your memories of you…of your previous regenerations will remain, but this one will remain a blur and their faces will not cause you pain."
"Good, then," he said, "Let's get on with it."
When the Doctor looked up, Sigma Ood stood in the middle of street.
"We will sing to you, Doctor," the Ood said sedately, "The universe will sing you to your sleep." He heard the voice of the universe as he stood back up and plodded to the TARDIS. He gritted his teeth against the pain, forcing his steps closer to the TARDIS. Sigma finished his farewell, "This song is ending, but the story never ends."
He closed the door and leaned against it for a moment. He took his coat off and flung it onto the support. As he stepped further into the TARDIS, he saw the regeneration energy beginning in his hands. He set the TARDIS in motion, more concerned that he not be in 2005 when he regenerated than anything else.
"I don't want to go!" he cried, but he knew it was too late.
"I'm sorry, child," Metatron said, coming back stronger, "I cannot hold any more of this back from you."
"I know," the Doctor replied, "It's time."
"I'm sorry," Metatron said sadly, "this is going to hurt."
As the energy flowed through him, it was different this time. Instead of a gentle warmth that overpowered him and gradually changed his face and body, the energy shot out of his body in a huge beam. The power of that energy poked holes in the TARDIS, causing her to rebel and buck and roil. The pain was overwhelming as his body changed and he screamed at the shear agony of it until it suddenly stopped.
"Legs! I've still got legs," he said, kissing his new knee, "Good…Arms…Hands…Ooo, fingers…Lots of fingers," he touched his ears, "Ears, yes. Eyes, two," he touched his nose and measured a remembered distance, "Nose, I've had worse." He touched his chin, "Chin, Blimey! Hair. I'm a girl! No. No. I'm not a girl!" he pulled his longer hair down so he could see, "And still not ginger. And something else…Something important…I'm..I'm…I'm-"
There was a loud crash from deep inside the TARDIS that shook it roughly about.
"Ha! Crashing!" he shouted excitedly. The Archangel thrilled at the new ability to be excited about impending doom and danger. He helped the Doctor by throwing his energy into flipping switches and keeping the Doctor with the new face standing upright. The Doctor was just as excited, running about, pulling levers and peering at the monitor, laughing all the while. He looked up to the top of the TARDIS as the machine plummeted to Earth and yelled, "Geronimo!"
'til next time! Let me know what y'all thought of this insanity, eh?