"You think I wanted this? I didn't do this. This, this wasn't me!"
Around and around and around. The words kept echoing through his head on a loop as the Doctor prowled through the marketplace on Shan Shen, River's words forever chasing him, no matter how fast he ran.
"This was exactly you. All this. All of it. You make them so afraid. When you began, all those years ago, sailing off to see the universe, did you ever think you'd become this? The man who can turn an army around at the mention of his name. Doctor. The word for healer and wise man throughout the universe. We get that word from you, you know. But if you carry on the way you are, what might that word come to mean?... How far you've come. And now they've taken a child, the child of your best friends, and they're going to turn her into a weapon just to bring you down. And all this, my love, in fear of you."
How had it all gone so wrong, so very, very wrong. When had he changed from the madman in a blue box, the lonely wanderer, to this… the villain. The bad guy. The monster under the bed. The monster all the other monsters were afraid of.
He wasn't… he isn't. It couldn't be true. River's words couldn't be true; and yet how could he deny the them now when the consequences of his choices had cost his best friends not just their baby but the future they should have had with her.
Amy. Rory. River. He'd failed them. All of them had been harmed by this latest misadventure. All nearly destroyed because of his hubris. Because of his decisions and actions. As if the Pandorica hadn't been enough, now that cursed woman had taken Amy and Rory's baby, and little Melody would grow up a weapon controlled by a mad woman with a grudge.
Worst of all, he already knew how this story played out… and how it would end.
Afterall, he knew what River was in prison for. Knew who she'd killed. Knew who was important enough for the Shadow Proclamation to sentence her to Storm Cage for eternity for killing.
And there was no changing it. Melody would grow up the weapon of a deranged zealot on a mission, and one day she would succeed. He didn't know how, he didn't know when, but he knew who… and that? That was bloody terrifying.
He'd known for some time that River would end up in Storm Cage for killing him – and that knowledge had been bad enough. It had seemed to him then like a bad joke. Like Time was having a laugh at his expense. The woman he would one day tell his name – his wife? – who died for him the day he met her, but only after she'd already killed him in some future he tried very hard not to think about.
He hadn't known that Professor River Song was little Melody Pond though, the only child of his companions, and it twisted the blade lodged in his heart since that fateful encounter in The Library that little bit deeper.
Regrets are bitter at the best of times; but when you've got centuries for them to stare you in the face, they can break you, and after 1500 years the Doctor had too many to choose from.
~*o0o*~
It's as he's stalking round a corner, aliens and humans skittering out of his way his bad mood is so tangible, that it happens. One moment he's making impressive progress down a crowded street, the next a small canon ball hits him in the stomach, making him rock back on his heels in surprise, and it's only his impressive reflexes that save the child from falling to the cobbled road, his hand snapping out to grip the boy's shoulder.
The boy grinned, unrepentant at the collision - which was definitely his fault - and ran off with a jaunty salute.
The Doctor sighed and looked around, properly taking in his surroundings for the first time since he'd landed.
It's not that he'd intended to come here… not exactly. He'd been so distracted and determined just to get away from that place that he hadn't paid much attention to the coordinates he'd put into the console.
It had been centuries – literally – since he'd last been back here. In fact, the last time he'd been here had been with Donna, just before that mess with the stolen Earth and the Daleks. Back then he'd thought of Shan Shen as a place that symbolised hope, a place where lost things could be found. A place of promises. What a fool he'd been. Now, it was a planet he avoided like the plague. Yet another casualty of his decisions; one haunted by memories he'd rather forget.
The market was much as he remembered it from his previous visits. Busy, bustling, hectic and noisy. There were sellers everywhere shouting about their wares or produce to attract customers, people dashing around as they went about their lives, and children playing street games. It's as he'd said to Donna all those years ago – this was a place you could lose yourself, a place of reinvention. On Shan Shen your past didn't matter, only the future you chose. Thousands of people came here every year to reinvent themselves, to become someone different. Maybe that's why the Tardis had guided him back to this place. Here, he was just one anonymous traveller amongst many, and no one gave him a second glance as he perused the stalls and meandered around the shops.
He might have walked past it, completely oblivious, if it hadn't been for the colour catching his eye. On a desert planet like Shan Shen, the predominant colours tended to be yellows, browns and oranges. The market was covered in those shades. Sometimes you might find a gold or even a red, but blue was a foreign thing here, it stood out, even as the shop itself seemed to blend into its surroundings. So blue is a surprising choice for the shop front, but it's the shade of blue that draws his eye and makes him take a second longer look. Tardis blue. The blue of his beloved box, the blue of a jacket last seen centuries ago on a windy beach, the blue of hope and home and loss.
Even odder though is the shop – which is clearly open – has no name, only a large working clock that appears to be counting backwards.
It's such a strange sight in a place like Shan Shen where names tend to be completely literal: such as its neighbours Mikta's pots and Yloanis' fine cloth. For a moment he wonders if it's a clock repair shop; but no, he can clearly see the tables inside the blue framed window are set out for tea with cheery blue table cloths, cake stands and cups all neatly arranged. Not a clock repair shop then, not unless it's one where you have tea and cake while you wait.
Curious and curiouser.
Metaphors and imagery weren't something Shan Shen generally concerned itself with. They like things to be clearly labelled. Also odd is how he alone in a bustling street seems to be paying it any attention. Something about the place niggled at his senses, like an itch he couldn't quite scratch.
Still distracted by the mystery, the Doctor unconsciously reached out and grabbed the arm of a man hurrying past him.
"Oi," the man grumbled, angrily trying to dislodge the tight grip that was keeping him tethered to the oddly dressed stranger.
"Do you see that shop?" The Doctor asked, pointing his free hand at the tea shop.
"What?" The man snapped.
"That shop there," the Doctor repeated, gesticulating at the place where the strange shop sat still and empty during the midday meal rush.
"Are you on somethink, mate?" The man asked, looking quizzically between the shop and the tweed wearing stranger.
"No," The Doctor replied, glancing at the man in bemusement.
"There's no shop there. Used to be at one time, but it's been boarded up now for years."
"And has no one wanted to take it over? It's a prime spot."
"Well, yeah." The man replied, scratching his head, "but it never takes. People used to go view it, but they always said it's got bad vibes, like it's haunted."
"Haunted, right," the Doctor mumbled to himself, releasing the man to fiddle with his bow tie.
"I bet they never even make it past the front door," the Doctor continued, talking to himself.
"Yeah, that's right," the man said, backing away slowly, like he expected the Time Lord to attack him again at any moment. "People say it gives them a funny feeling, like they weren't wanted there." He shuddered. "Gives me the heebie-jeebies just walking past it."
"Hmmm," the Time Lord let out a low, appreciative whistle. That was one powerful perception filter in place over the shop. Very powerful. And very odd. His Time sense tingled in the back of his mind like a warning.
He took an unconscious step forwards as he stared at the strange shop, the man he'd been talking to forgotten in the lure of the mystery before him. How very intriguing. There was something there, something important, something that was affecting Time.
He rubbed his hands together gleefully. This was just the distraction he needed. The perfect way to put recent events far from his thoughts and forget the mess that awaited him for a while.
It was adventure time.