Hi. Don't kill me. Please. I know the chapters late. Um... very late. But I've been flooded with school work, so I haven't really had the chance to write. In fact, with my final exams for year 11 coming up, I'm still flooded with school work. However, my brain was dying, so I decided to screw the fact that I really shouldn't be writing, and wrote. It's longer than the others, so hope you guys like it, cause I plan on making my chapters a lot longer from now on.

Chapter Three

He couldn't stay inside this time. He'd thought he didn't feel guilt. Didn't feel remorse after the last time. He was wrong, because he felt it now. Felt his hands twist and shake and cling to his pants or jacket, hoping for some semblance of 'steady' to grace them. The walls closed in tenfold, and he couldn't use the shower for long before he felt too trapped to function, despite knowing that logically, the shower was the same size it had always been. He couldn't stay inside, no matter how big the TARDIS really was.

So he didn't.

He went to planets, numerous and varied, he went to asteroids, bleak and abandoned, he even stared out from the TARDIS doors into a forming star, though he had to stop as familiar flashes of fire began to burn into his eyes. The only thing they had in common, was that they were all deserted. With no possible victim, how could he be the killer? Yet, the restlessness returned, and worse. He was lonely. He wanted, needed a friend. Oh how he craved the days when he had a hand to hold, a person to show the wonders of the universe. He missed it. Missed the awe on their faces, the questions, the simple feeling of having another person nearby. A companion. He wanted a companion.

Not that you deserve it.

He didn't deserve it. He could barely cope with being around people for a short time. What would it be like if he had someone nearby constantly? He'd hurt them, burn them with his very presence and scar them forever. He couldn't do it. He wouldn't do it. Not if it was the last good thing he ever did. Gone was his old life. It had run away with hopeless abandon, taking his spirit with it, fearing what was to come the moment he had stepped foot on that planet. He was not a good man, by any sense of the word. But bad men could still do good deeds, if the motivation was right, and guilt was the surest he had ever known. He would not have a companion. He would not taint them, bring them into his world, let them experience this fear and pain he felt every second of every long, aching day.

It was as he was setting the coordinates for a nice, deserted tropical planet that the TARDIS shook,and he grabbed onto the console to stop himself from falling. What was happening? Checking the monitors as line upon line of information crossed the screen, he cursed. Something had happened, happened to the TARDIS. She was sending him to the worst possible place for a him, the place he had made his last mistake. He couldn't go back.

But you want to.

Earth.

/DW/

He practically fell out of the TARDIS, arms flailing as the door he had crashed into opened, seemingly of its own accord. Hitting the ground, he rolled, arms pulling in and legs folding as he pulled himself into a crouch. Murder apparently wasn't the only instinct he had kept from war. Head lifting up, he surveyed his surroundings, hearing the faint close of the door behind him. Cobblestone met his gaze, and he frowned. He was in a populated area then. That was bad. Getting up and glancing back at his dangerously mutinous ship, he sighed. Obviously, she wanted him here for some unknown reason, and clearly, she wasn't afraid he would kill someone. A slightly smug humming in the back of his subconscious told him as much. Unfortunately for him, he didn't share that faith. Sighing again, he moved away from the ship. Maybe if he left for a while and came back, she'd be satisfied. Until then, he just had to keep away from crowds and he should be fine.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he looked around, before stepping forward. Cobblestone. He was in an alley too, filled with garbage and his nose scrunched as the smell finally wafted its way into his senses. Cringing, he took a deeper breath, ignoring the overwhelming stench of waste, and focusing instead on the underlying smells. Smoke, lots of it. Industrial area. Most likely late eighteen hundreds, maybe early nineteen. Taking another breath, he could detect the faint aroma of perfume. He scrunched his nose again. So many different types, the people must have been drowning in it.

Walking towards the entrance to the alley, he faltered. He could hear voices, the sounds trickling into his ears. Not another crowd. Fighting the temptation to run back and beg the TARDIS to let him in, he journeyed closer, determined to see just where he was that his ship was so insistent on him seeing. He was closer now, he could feel the sun on his face, and he stood, momentarily struck by the warmth on his face. It felt so nice, so peaceful.

A loud shout made him jump, and he shook his head, as though getting rid of any thoughts of peace.

He was not here for peace. Not here for anything at all in his opinion. The TARDIS was just meddling, nothing to worry about.

She always has a reason.

Sighing, he journeyed closer to the end of the alley, sticking close to the wall in case of... well he didn't know really, but the rough feel of the stone beneath his hand kept him more grounded than he'd felt in a while. As he drew closer, the noise grew louder, fractions of conversations entered his ears, all in one huge flurry of distraction.

"Largest ship they say.."

He froze. It couldn't be.

"It's huge, I wonder how they.."

No, it wouldn't. Fixed point in time.

"Wish I could go..."

Honestly, JFK was one thing, but surely she wouldn't have brought him here.

" Lap of luxury that is.."

The words slowly blurred together as he began to panic, the wall his only support.

"livin' like kings.."

He finally moved his feet closer, eyes widening as he exited the alley. A wave of sea air hit him, and he was surprised he hadn't smelt the salt earlier.

"what'd they call it again?"

The Titanic.

Oh he was going to kill his ship. He wanted to turn in her direction, to threaten a well timed mechanical failure should she not let him in, but he couldn't move. The Titanic. She'd brought him to the Titanic. Was she insane?

A person bumped him as they walked past and he stumbled, but for once he didn't flinch, the shock too overwhelming. The Titanic. The largest ship of its time. The one doomed to sink into the icy depths of the ocean...

He shuddered, before stepping back. He shouldn't be here. It was a fixed point. First rule of time travel, don't go to fixed points. In fact, don't even go near them. Don't even think about going to a fixed point. Even the slightest change could ruin everything. Don't, under any circumstances, go to fixed points.

Since when have you let that stop you?

He shook his head. JFK had been a mistake. He hadn't meant to go there and then it had been too late. It wasn't too late now. He could leave. Easily in fact. The ship hadn't even been boarded. By the looks of it, not until tomorrow, given how the crew were still cleaning and loading on items. They would never do that with passengers waiting. He could leave.

He glanced at the crowd, children running around, parents laughing, couples leaning against one another as they appraised the ship. All these people. People like them... they would die on that ship.

You've killed more...

He felt weak, and stumbled back, hand reaching out for the wall.

"Sir are you okay?"

He looked up, to see a man in a suit, the edges frayed and the elbows worn in. He had a kind smile, and a bow tie around his neck. Somehow, looking at this man, he felt a sense calm wash over him, as though everything was going to be okay. He must've looked confused, because the man spoke again.

"Sir, are you well? My name is Doctor John Jacobson. Do you need help?" The man, this Doctor, held out his hand, as though asking permission. Hadn't he once called himself a Doctor? The word seemed so foreign now.

He cleared his throat, the words burning his tongue as he forced them out.

"I'm fine." He forced a weak smile. Looking behind the man, this doctor, he saw what had to be his family. Two small children, and a woman, dressed nicely, despite the fraying ends.

"Sir are you certain? You look quite out of sorts."

He nodded, "yes, fine thank you." His voice felt strange, strangled almost. He recalled with a start that it had been a long time since he had used it.

The man however, hesitated. "If you insist. If you should find yourself in need of assistance, my family and I will be staying in the Inn down the way. We leave with the ship tomorrow, but until then you are more than welcome to ask for help. Just ask for the Doctor. The Inn keeper will direct you to our room"

The man turned to leave, to join his family and continue to what he assumed to be their Inn.

"Why?"

It took him a moment to realise he'd spoken, his voice echoing, surprisingly clear in the loud street. The man looked surprised, but turned back nonetheless, his voice soft.

"I'm a Doctor. Helping people is what I do."

And then he was gone, taking his calm with him.

/dw/dw/

He sat, in his alley, alone. The wall next to him hard, unrelenting. Images of that man flashed before his eyes. He had been so kind, so kind to a stranger... to him. He, who had committed a thousand sins. For no other reason than the act itself. Kindness, for kindness sake was so rare in this world. To think, he used to possess so much of it. Yes, his kindness was gone, replaced by bitterness and rage and a restlessness that plagued his very soul every day. But that man, he wore his kindness as a badge, an honour. An aura that screamed 'trust me' in every possible way. That man was a blessing, one he longed to be around forever. To feel that calm no matter his real circumstance. That man, Doctor John Jacobson. He was a gift.

And he's going to die.

He hit his head against the wall, for what was probably the hundredth time, as though the force could get rid of unwanted thoughts. That man was going to die , he was certain of it. He'd seen their clothes. There was no way they were rich, and there was no way they could afford first class. Most likely they would be locked in once the panic began, trapped and unable to escape the icy cold that would consume them. They would die. And there was nothing he could do to stop it, it was a fixed point after all.

That never stopped you before.

There it was again. The thought that had been plaguing him since his encounter with that man. How, how could he let that man, and his kindness, leave this world? All for the sake of a fixed point. Surely, this man wouldn't ruin the world. If anything, he would make it better, even if that was just to a few individuals. And his family... they reminded him of his, oh so painfully. Rassilon he missed them. His granddaughter especially. But they were all gone now. He was the last of his kind, the last Time lord. He didn't feel lordly now. He felt alone. And that man, that doctor had shown him kindness. He did not deserve to die. None of them did. But surely, one doctor and his family couldn't ruin the world. Surely, despite all it had taken, Time could give him this.

He was up in a flash, the leather jacket flaring behind him, as he ran to the inn, to the doctor. The sun was setting now, and the street was emptying. They would leave early. Somehow, he had to convince them to stay. To not get on that ship, no matter the consequences. He had to save them. After all the death he had seen, all the death he had caused, he had to save someone, anyone.

And so he ran.

/dw/dw/

He knocked, the sound echoing in his bones, pounding along to the beat of his twin hearts. The Inn Keeper had been surprised, to see a man, frantic, run into the building, demanding to see the doctor. They had tutted, calling him rude, before sending him on his way, muttering about 'strays' and 'bleeding hearts'. He hadn't cared. He'd made his way to the room, number 5, and knocked. And now he waited.

The door opened, a small face appearing. The little girl from before. Her eyes were wide with curiosity, innocent. Her mouth curled and she giggled, light and airy, and his hearts lightened. He must've looked a mess, clothes out of order, breathing heavy despite his by pass system. It had been awhile since he'd been this active. Still, he bent down to her level, meeting her gaze. She stared back, unafraid. Trusting in a way that only the very young can. Any doubts he had had about his decision vanished. He was very glad he had made this trip, rules of Time be damned.

"Hello. I'm looking for the doctor?" His voice was soft. Softer than it had been in aeons. The irony of the question had not been lost on him.

The girl smiled wider, a feat he would've previously thought impossible. She didn't turn, didn't lower her gaze at all. He could respect that. Here he was, a stranger they had met on the street, dressed in strange clothing, and here she was, meeting his gaze as though she had all the power a four year old could possess. The very young were very brave.

"Daddy."

It was one word, but the effect was instantaneous. He heard a shuffling behind the door, and he was surprised it hadn't happened sooner. Did humans really let their children answer the door to unexpected visitors?

Unless you weren't unexpected.

The door opened wider, and the man from before, John, came into view, before the door was opened completely, and he was given a full view of the modest room. The other child, the son, sat in the middle, a toy abandoned due to his presence. A stranger, much more interesting than an old toy. The woman stood at the back, watching carefully. She, was clearly less trusting than her husband. Still, she seemed open, friendly. Just more reserved. He was grateful. It would be easier to convince them to stay.

"I thought you would come. How can I help you sir?"

The question threw him off guard, and he almost laughed. What had he expected? The Spanish inquisition? Still, he stumbled over his words, and all that came out were garbled sounds. He looked down, slightly embarrassed. He couldn't even talk in front of this man, with his kindness. He remembered lives where he never shut up, and now, he couldn't even answer a simple question.

John, however, was patient, and waited for him to try again, his hand resting on his daughters head. She giggled again, and the laugh grounded him. He had no clue what to say, not one inkling on what lie to spin, what angle to approach to stop them from getting on that ship of death. So he didn't.

"Don't get on the ship."

John recoiled slightly, confusion entering his expression. "Pardon?"

He tried again, and was ashamed that his voice cracked. The disuse, he told himself.

"Don't get on the Titanic. Please."

The wife walked forward, and stood beside her husband. "Why ever not? It's the opportunity of a life time."

He sighed. "I know you don't know me, but please, just trust me. That ship is bad news. Call it a feeling, but I don't want to see you and your family hurt."

John stood up straighter, before turning to his wife. " Emily, take Madison back inside. Robert looks lonely. I'll be inside in a moment."

Emily nodded, before ushering the daughter back inside. He heard the laughter of the little girl, and assumed they were playing. John stepped forward, and closed the door, and he moved back with him, walking back until he touched the wall of the corridor behind him.

"What do you know sir?" John asked, his voice quiet.

"I can't say." He really couldn't. It was bad enough he was here in the first place. He couldn't go into more detail. He shouldn't.

"Sir, this is my family. If they're in danger, I should know." John stepped forward, inching closer to him, yet he still felt nothing other than that strange sense of calm.

He sighed, and his shoulders dropped. "The ship, the Titanic, in a few days time, will hit an iceberg, and sink into the ocean. There'll be nothing you can do, nothing anyone can do, and if you get on that ship, you will die."

John stumbled back, stunned. "How do you know such things?"

He smiled bitterly. "Call it a curse, call it witch craft, call it a lie. Just... Please don't get on that ship."

The man looked wary.

"Please."

There must've been something in his eyes, or his tone, or maybe even his body language, but John nodded.

"I'll arrange to get called away. We can always leave another time," the man reached forward, his hand out expectingly. He gently took it, as though it could explode.

"Thank you," the man said.

"Thank you," he replied back, before letting go and turning away, his hearts light but mind heavy. What had he done? This man, this man and his family, would live. Four more people alive in the world that hadn't been before. Who knew what would happen.

"Why?"

The word came out of nowhere, and he turned, almost to the end of the hall. John stood there, shoulders dropped but head high, eyes full of curiosity, like his daughter.

"Why what?"

"Why save us? Out of all the people going on that ship... why save us? I'm just a country doctor. I'm nothing special in the eyes of god. Why me?" John's voice was steady. Calm in a way he could never reach.

He looked him in the eyes, eyes so much like the little girl's... Maddison's, that he was once again reminded of why he told them.

"You were kind. The world needs kindness."

And then he was gone, walking so fast John was sure he was running away, away from what, he was unsure. He was grateful, as he walked back into their room, and saw his family, his wife's questioning eyes. That man had been a gift. A blessing. He stopped, wondering why he had never thought to ask his name...

The next day, there was one family missing from the manifesto. A Dr. John Jacobson had been called away suddenly, on family business.

/dw/dw/

That night, he returned to his ship, and the door opened, the console room flooded with warm light. He had taken a chance, one he should regret, should find shameful that he had changed a fixed point, however minutely. But among his long list of regrets and past shames, this was not one of them. He had saved that man, and his family. His kindness. The world was now slightly kinder, if only by one person. He had done a good deed, and it was not the last thing he would do. He may not be a good man, but he could still do good deeds.

It was as he was going to bed, for what had to be the first time in weeks, that he realised that that entire time, he hadn't had the urge to... the restlessness hadn't become unbearable. He had gone out, in public, and hadn't killed anyone. In fact, he had saved someone. Four people in fact. Maybe he wouldn't have to lock himself up for all eternity after all.

It was with that thought, that one peaceful thought, that he slept, and for the first time since the war, his mind was free of nightmares.

/dw/dw/

A/N

So you reached the end of chapter 3. congrats. Okay. Few things. One, thank you to those that did favourite/follow and especially a thank you to those that reviewed. Your numbers are small but each and every one of you mean a lot to me and I thank you. Two, did I mention how sorry I was that its been a while? Well to be sure here it is again. Sorry it's been so long since I updated.

And three thought you guys would like to know. In case you haven't noticed, I am trying to follow the canon plot at least loosely. It will change more later, but at the moment I'm trying to keep it pretty concise, with just the extra angst and the whole he's a serial killer thing. So, because of that... Rose should be coming in the next chapter or two. So yeah. If that's what you've been hanging on for, your wait is almost over.

Thank you so so much, and please, please please review. I know it seems like a waste of time, and I'm not gonna lie, I have often not reviewed, and looking back I feel terrible about it. But, please, it really motivates me, and makes me feel as though you guys actually care. So please, even if it is just a message telling me it sucks, or its good, or you just want to let me know you like chocolate and long walks on the beach, review.

Now that's my time. See you next update. Should be soonish since I've got holidays coming up.

- Does it say sass on my uniform.