What if the Time Lords took Jamie's conscience instead of his memories?
Jamie trembled ever so slightly. Not from fear. No, a McCrimmon was never scared. Although there were times that Jamie wanted to admit that he was.
No, the trembling was a side-effect of being brought back. Or maybe because he was standing over the body of a bloodied English. Maybe both.
But the problem was that the Time Lords had made a small miscalculation. Rather daft, for a bunch of stern, cold, meticulous people. Instead of removing Jamie's memories of the Doctor, they had done something much worse.
They had removed most of his empathy.
Basically, Jamie told himself as he wiped the dried blood from his cheek, he still had his memories, but little of his conscience remained.
Jamie wasn't sure how long he stood over the dead body. Long enough for the sun to set behind the nearby forest. Making his way back to his home – strange, really, to call it that when the TARDIS had been his home for several years – he started to plan accordingly.
A little knowledge of the future was a dangerous thing. The places he had been, the things he saw, Jamie knew that if the Time Lords hadn't sent him back, he would fly with the Doctor forever.
Over the next few weeks and months, Jamie did his best not to think about those he had lost. Polly. Ben. Victoria. Zoe. Maybe even Peri.
But the Doctor...
When he realised this particular fact, as he sat at the table one evening, a small smile flickered at the corner of his mouth.
He would see him again, most assuredly.
Kirsty couldn't break it out of him. She'd pleaded, "Jamie, why are you obsessed?" Clinging onto his arm the way that he ironically used to cling onto the Doctor, she begged, "Tell me, Jamie."
He shrugged her off. She couldn't understand. For her Jaime had been gone maybe half a day. For him, it was close to five years. The first time around, anyway. When the Doctor had been granted a stay of execution while he undertook 'community service', Jamie had been with him long enough to notice grey hairs whenever he looked in the mirror.
The Time Lords had given him back his youth, so Jamie was thankful for something.
Second time around, Jamie wouldn't be so wasteful.
Kirsty didn't know how much he cared for the Doctor. Even if she had, admitting to him one night in front of the fire, heard the name 'Doctor' in her head her entire life.
When Jamie had called clans together, he didn't say why. But when they were close, he spoke about revenge against the English.
As they set off, he thought about his true revenge – on the Time Lords.
If this wouldn't get the Doctor to notice, he didn't know what would.
Farm by farm, village by village, then towns as the Highlanders moved south. Jamie lost count of how many he killed by his own hand. Fighting warriors, ordinary farmers, pleading women. The feel of a neck broken in his hands was an oddly satisfying thought.
Spare no one.
He wished Zoe was here, to be frank. She might have little use around here as computers weren't invented yet, but surely he could have swayed her to assist him with military tactics. Then again, maybe not. She was too kind.
Victoria, now, there was a pretty lass. As much as he hated to say this, he preferred her over Kirsty. Back when Jamie had had a heart.
But she would also have refused him.
Standing up on the hill, a perfect view of a valley turning the sky red with flames, Jamie pressed hard on his sword. Smiling at what havoc he caused, he hoped someone would come along soon to fix things.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been doing this. How much effort went into this. But he did know that since King George himself had fled the country, it must really be causing a stir.
A French Revolution fifty years early.
If Jamie had still been capable of kindness and rational thought, he would be disgusted with himself. The blood of the innocents watered the fields of Scotland. Futures snuffed out, just so the Doctor would notice him.
He had become a madman.
The breeze began to float about Jamie as he heard the sound he thought that he would never hear again.
He heard the door open.
One word. One name.
"Jamie."
And the Highlander smiled.