Trigger Warning: Mentions of violence and torture
There were so many memories that could have come to mind. There were so many terrible stories that would have told of the horrors of the war, that would have shown the terrible part that he had played in it. It had gone on for so long and he had done so many things he regretted he held his breath to see which one Rose would be made to see in full detail.
He had guessed which one would come to surface. He was sure it would be the moment that he had chosen to end it all, the moment he could see them all dying and know the agony they would face and he had done it all anyway. He was sure that this moment, when he ended billions of lives would be the one his mind required that he share Rose.
But it was not this memory that was now coming to the surface of his mind. It was not the extent of damage he had caused that made this particular memory terrible but the proximity that did. This was not a time he had killed billions; only one. This was not a time that he was distant from the person who would become his victim but would be in fact quite close. This was not a death that could be justified by the end game, one that could be explained as 'necessary.' Looking at it now he could see how much terrible this memory would be. Maybe this was his most terrible memory. Even it wasn't it would thoroughly encompass the terrible things he was capable of.
What would she think of him when this was over? He had always strove to hide this part of himself from Rose. The violent part of him that was capable of hurting people, of killing them. But he could remember at least one time when he had not been able to do that and the solider in him had shown enough for her to see.
It was the first time he'd seen a Dalek after the Time War. That seemed like such a long time ago. But back then the memories of the war had been fresh in his mind. The pain was still raw and only just barely contained below the surface. And when he had seen that thing his enemy who he thought had been wiped clean from the universe he had not been able to contain the hate he felt for the Daleks. His violent spirit which he had hoped he was able to squelch was right there ready to destroy.
He could still remember her face, the look of utter horror and repulsion as she looked at him while he had wielded a gun at the Dalek ready to kill it. They'd not known each other long at that point and she'd not known the whole story. But even still he had not held it against her for looking at him that way. He'd deserved it. Would she look at him like that when she saw this?
She still didn't know the whole story. Would she choose to stay with him when she learned that he had been the one to kill all the Daleks and all the Time Lords? Of course she knew he'd killed people; that would be no surprise. But now she would know he had killed his own people too. They were not killed by the enemy but by him. What would she think now?
He cringed as he held nothing back and they were transported back in time to a planet that no longer existed. He wore a face she had not seen one he did not even attach to his name. She could feel the repulsion he felt at the sight of this self of him. He didn't even count this one he hated it so.
But for her it was not this face that she didn't recognize. The eyes were always the same and she could always tell it was him by them. It was the expression in them though she did not recognize. The way he looked at the man across from him is a way she had never seen him look at anyone before. It was filled with hate; there was an intention of hurt. The power she now knew he held inside of him he wore on the outside. He held it on his shoulders with the plan of using it.
"Where is it?" the Doctor asked firmly with anger.
"I don't know you're talking about," the other man, a Time Lord, dressed in traditional robes said. It was a contrast to what the Doctor was wearing as was the setting they found themselves in. They were in a dark secluded hallway of immaculate looking place. The Doctor, in his worn mismatched clothes still covered in dust and dirt, did not seem to belong here.
One was a man who saw the front lines, one who fought the fight, one who knew how things were playing out. The other was one that made decisions, far away from the actual danger.
Despite the older looking body, one that appeared older than the young man in front of him, the Doctor grabbed the man and threw him against the wall with surprising ease. "Don't pretend that I am a mystery to you or that my intentions are unknown to you. Everyone knows who I am," he said quietly, eerily soft with a small dangerous smile. This was much scarier than shouting would have been.
"Of course, I know who you are. Your reputation precedes you," he said with some cynicism. "As to your intentions...who could guess? You always have been a rebel."
The Doctor let out a breath. "Fine, it's going to be that way then." He entered the man's mind roughly without invitation, the severest of criminal acts for their people. He threw the thought at him with force. He heard the man make a slight noise of pain at the feel of it but he contained the pain as much as he could.
"Understand now?" the Doctor asked.
The man gritted his teeth and opened his eyes to look at the Doctor. He did not reply. It wasn't meant to be an honest question. "Where is The Moment?" the Doctor asked.
"That is just a legend."
The Doctor twisted his grip on the man's mind. He squeezed hard and the man's body convulsed in pain. "Do not try to lie to me. I think you forget that I'm in your mind; it's impossible."
"It's gone. We've used all the forbidden weapons."
"No, no," the Doctor said. He let his firm touch on the man's mind start to catch fire. He turned the heat up on it and let it burn the man's mind. "Stop trying to fool me. I'm tired of the games."
The man cried in agony as the Doctor let his mind burn the man's just enough to leave a mark that would hurt but would not destroy. "Why are you doing this?" he cried in pain. "We're on the same side."
"This has to end. I've seen it; you've seen it. You know what will happen and you also know that there is only one way to end it. The problem is that I am the only one who is willing to face the truth, the only one who is willing to do what needs to be done. That makes us on opposite sides now."
"You mean to destroy us all."
"I mean to end this war."
"And you will kill us...your own people? All of us...even the innocent. Even the children?" The man threw an image back at the Doctor. He got a glimpse of what that would be like. The man showed the Doctor what it would be like to end their lives, how he would hear them all shout in agony as they burned to death. The Doctor blocked it out at once but not before it started to chip away at his already thin resolve.
He pushed the man harder up against the wall. "We are not the only ones in the universe."
"We are the ones that matter," the man spat back. "You would sacrifice us for all those lesser species? Whoever put you in such a position to be able to make such a decision? Have you made yourself God? You will lord your decisions over us?"
"I mean to end the suffering before it destroys the whole universe and the all of time. You know it will."
The man refused to agree.
"Which brings me back to the real question here. Where is it?"
"You know its sentient, right? It has a conscious. It will judge you."
"There is nothing it could say to me that I have not already heard. There is no one, no machine, not anything that could make me feel guiltier than I make myself," he admitted. I'll ask you once more: where is it?"
The Doctor felt the man start to put up barriers to keep him from going any further. It was difficult because the Doctor held such a firm grip on him and because his mind was damaged and weak but he was trying. He would not say where it was. It did not deter the Doctor.
"Do not make me take it," the Doctor warned.
The man looked at the Doctor. Clear fear was in his eyes. He knew that the Doctor told the truth. He knew that he would do exactly as he said. He swallowed hard and clenched his jaw as he replied. "I won't let you do this."
For a moment, the Doctor wavered. When had he become this? When had he become a man that could evoke such fear in another person? It was one thing to use his weapons against the enemy. It was one thing to be seen as the oncoming storm in their eyes. But his own people?
He really didn't want to this. He was scared. He didn't want to do this, didn't want to become this. Why did they force him to do this by making him the only one who stood for what was right? Why didn't he just agree with them? Why didn't he just go along with what they were doing? Only the fear of all that would come if he didn't act was great enough to push him forward.
He shook it off. He told himself it didn't matter anyway. Soon, they would all be dead. Hopefully, himself included and it would all be over, for all of them. That was the best he could hope for at this point. "I warned you," he said to the man, trying to pass on the blame as if he didn't own it. "I gave you a chance," he said making an excuse.
He didn't know what he was doing exactly but it wasn't hard to figure it out once he let his power go full force. Looking for and extracting information against the will of the other was not something that the Time Lords were trained in. But he was powerful, one of the most. He could probably do anything he set his mind on. He ripped through the man's mind, tearing through the weak barriers, fighting the whole way but it wasn't much of fight. The Doctor quickly tore his way down through the barriers searching for the piece of information that he wanted.
It didn't take long for the man to fall to the ground. The Doctor knew he was screaming but he held the part of the man's mind that would allow it to be audible so that no one would be alerted before he found what he wanted.
His light was darkening but the Doctor was able to find the fact he needed before it faded completely. There was no victory in this. He had the information he wanted but there was a cold dead mind in his hand. Once you held one you would never forget it. Of course, he'd felt it before. He had been around those who had died; he felt as the light dwindled out for ever. But never once had he felt it along with the knowledge that he had made it so.