just_the_doctor

The Doctor isn't sure what's stranger when he wakes up -- the fact that he's been asleep, or that he was sleeping in an actual bed. And not just any bed, but the bed in his actual room. Then the events of the previous evening manage to filter back in, and he remembers having been a bit tipsy from the Atlantean and having Remy help him back to the TARDIS.

Ah, well, no harm done there, at least. He climbs out of bed, smooths down the wrinkles in his clothes, and puts his trainers on before heading out to the console room. He's alone when he gets there, but decides not to bother Thirteen until they've arrived. He fires up the TARDIS and heads out of Milliways before setting temporal course for Bethel, New York, August 14, 1969. He aims for the day before so as to get good seats. Crowds had already begun to gather by that time, so they wouldn't look out of place.

They're only in transit for a few minutes when the mauve alert sounds, screeching through the entire ship. "Always something," the Doctor mutters, killing the alarm and bringing up the scanner.

The light show last night had been just as brilliant as he'd remembered. All the divers -- as many as twenty at once -- weaving in and out of each other, their suits flickering through pre-programmed patterns to create images of flowers or animals as they descended lazily to the water below. He and Thirteen had even stayed through both shows just to see it again. They'd caught the last shuttle back and didn't get back to the TARDIS until well after midnight.

The results of the scan were waiting for him when they returned, and while Thirteen shuffled off to bed, the Doctor sat in the medical bay and began going through the data. He'd been right about the object being from the Time War. The construction methods and materials were perfect matches for that time period. The purpose of the thing still eluded him -- most of the circuitry was too badly degraded to ascertain its design. That was likely also why the thing had reacted as it had before, a malfunction as the last of the wiring burned itself out. He'd lain back in the diagnostic chair to think about his next move.

Which explains why, the next morning, he's still there, eyes closed, the papers draped across his chest, breathing softly in a not-quite-snore.

The TARDIS materializes on a side street, well out of the main flow of foot traffic. Still, when the Doctor opens the doors, he and Thirteen are assailed with the familiar smells and sounds of a bustling open-air market, even if the sights are still a few dozen yards farther down. It's a short walk to join the bustling crowds, a cross-section of lifeforms from the entire quadrant of the galaxy.

"So, what do you think?" he asks.

It wasn't the smoothest of rides, but that often happens just after a recharge. Or just before one. Or whenever the TARDIS got into one of her moods.

At last, they land. The Doctor secures everything down and unlocks the door seal. "All right, Remy Hadley, Doctor Thirteen. Just like I promised you. Brave new world."

The Citadel is silent.

Empty.

Evacuation is still going on in plenty of places on the planet -- fifteen billion people don't just vanish, after all -- but here, the exodus is over.

The Doctor walks down the main street, footsteps echoing in the emptiness. All the years he spent running away from Gallifrey, and now here he was running everyone else off it while he stayed behind.

Ah, irony.

"According to the paper, they've elected a ghost as MP for Leeds. Now don't tell me you're gonna sit back and do nothing."

"Who're you gonna call?"

"Ghostbusters!"

---

"I like that. 'Allons-y'. I should say 'allons-y' more often. 'Allons-y'. Watch out, Rose Tyler! Allons-y! And then, it would be really brilliant if I met someone called Allonzo. Because then I could say, 'allons-y, Allonzo'! Every time! You're staring at me."

"My mum's still on board."

"If we end up on Mars, I'm gonna kill you."

---

"All those times I've been on Earth, I've never heard of you."

"But of course not. You're the enemy. You're actually named in the Torchwood Foundation Charter of 1879 as an enemy of the Crown."

---

"Sphere comes through. But when it made the hole, it cracked the world around it. The entire surface of this dimension, splintered. And that's how the ghosts get through. That's how they get everywhere. They're bleeding through the fault lines. Walking from their world, across the Void, and into yours. With the Human Race hoping and wishing and helping them along! But too many ghosts, and..."

---

"Doctor... help us."

"What? Close the breach? Stop the Cybermen? Defeat the Daleks? Do you believe I can do that?"

"Yes."

"Maybe that's all I need."

---

"How did you survive the Time War?"

"By fighting. On the front line. I was there at the fall of Arcadia. Someday I might even come to terms with that."

---

"What're they doing? Why'd they need to get outside??"

"Time Lord science-- what Time Lord science? What is it? We've gotta see what it's doing, we've gotta go back up! Come on! All of you! Top floor!"

"That's forty-five floors up! Believe me, I've done 'em all."

"We could always take the lift..."

---

But the Doctor is already through the stairwell door....

As soon as he walks through the door, he knows. The TARDIS tells him that she's here, yes, but even if she didn't, he could tell. The scent of her is unmistakeable, even after all this time.

His feet know the way better than he does, every twist and turn. It's not long before he's standing there by that door, complete with the scarf he just never got around to removing.

He knocks softly, then eases the door open and peeks in. She's fast asleep on that giant bed that always looked like it wanted to swallow her. The Doctor creeps in silently and looks around. All her things were exactly as she'd left them. He hadn't wanted to disturb anything at the time, certain that he'd return for her as soon as that Gallifrey mess was sorted.

When the time came, though, he just couldn't. He told himself it's because his life wasn't safe, it wasn't the life that someone like her needed. But it was a lie then, and it's a lie now. The truth was that he'd let her too close. He'd let her mean too much. And the future had come to him all too clearly. She'd age; he wouldn't. She'd die; he wouldn't. They could have had years, sure, even decades. But inevitably, he'd have the pain of losing her. And he couldn't go through that.

Then, he'd met her again, so many years later, for both of them, and he knew he'd done the right thing. Because all those old feelings rushed back into him as soon as he'd heard her name. Centuries without her, and the sight of her, sound of her voice, almost suffocated him. If he'd let that grow, spent those years with her... She would have died, and it would have crushed him beyond repair.

It's the same reason he's kept his distance from all the Companions to follow. The same reason he's keeping his distance from Rose, despite her attempts to the contrary. The loneliness tears at him, but with nowhere near the intensity as the loss would. And he's lost so much already.

So he just stands there at the foot of her bed, watching her sleep. When she shifts, he pulls the blanket over her, smooths the hair from her face, and slips out the way he'd come.

"So, in the last three months, the new headmaster has replaced all but two of the teachers?"

"That's the way it looks," Mickey confirms. "One history teacher, and one physics."

The Doctor shudders. "Well, I know which one I'd rather be. Bloody hate history. Had to retake Pre-Rassilonic History twice at the Academy."

Rose laughs, "You? Had to retake a class?"

"Well," he stammers in return, "it was over 900 years ago. I was a bit impetuous in my youth, you see."

"I'd have never guessed," she deadpans. "So, how are we going to get in there?"

"Oh, draw the physics teacher away from her job, flash of the psychic paper, and I'm in."

Mickey looks skeptical. "Draw her away? How're you gonna do that, then?"

The Doctor grins as he reaches into his inner coat pocket and produces a slip of paper. Rose snatches it out of his hand and looks at it. "This is a lottery ticket," she says, confused. Then she looks closer. "This is tomorrow's lottery ticket. How'd you get this?"

"What?" Mickey yelps, jumping up and grabbing the ticket. "Forget how you got it. More important question is, can you get me one?"

"Aw, Mickey," the Doctor chides, "that'd be cheating."

Mickey starts to say something else, but Rose gives him That Look and slips the ticket back to the Doctor. "But what about me? There's no way I could pass as a history teacher."

"Ah," the Doctor says uncomfortably. "No, there's really only one other opening. And you're not going to like it."

---

He sits alone in the lunchroom, pondering. He'd just had his first physics class, and if nothing else, it definitely confirmed Mickey's suspicions that there was something strange about this school. That child, Milo... how could he know everything he knows? Being a savant is one thing, even being a genius. But he'd asked the boy something no human should have been able to answer for at least another thousand years. How do you travel faster than light? And the boy answered it. Correctly. Without blinking.

He's startled from his thoughts by Rose, as predicted, thoroughly unhappy with her current role as 'dinner lady'. His reasoning was simple. Staff could get into places that a teacher couldn't manage without raising questions. Her response was also simple. She'd blown a raspberry at him.

The Doctor shares his initial findings with her, and Rose adds that there's definitely something peculiar about the rest of the dinner staff as well. She doesn't have a chance to elaborate more because the head dinner lady comes out and chastises her for 'leaving her station during a sitting'. She grumps and goes back to the serving counter, leaving the Doctor once again to his ruminations.

---

"Excuse me, colleagues, a moment of your time," comes Headmaster Finch's voice from the door of the Teacher's Lounge. "May I introduce Miss Sarah Jane Smith?"

The Doctor's head snaps up and around. Everything Finch says after that is nothing but a gnat buzzing as he sees her. Older, yes, but undeniably her. She notices him watching her and comes over, oblivious. He stammers through a greeting. She asks him his name, and he responds 'John Smith' without even thinking. It was the name he used when dealing with UNIT during the time he'd spent with her all those years ago. Twenty-five to thirty for her, judging by her appearance; at least ten times that for him, and closer to twenty.

He's completely incoherent during their brief conversation. And he doesn't mind that one bit. Because she's brilliant. Investigating, she says. Putting herself into what could be dangerous situations, because it's the right thing to do. Because there's a mystery here, and she can't resist the pull of it.

"Oh, good for you," he beams as she walks away. "Good for you, Sarah Jane Smith!"

---

The Doctor's led his team gang comrades Rose and Mickey into the school after hours. Rose is in the kitchen, getting a sample of the oil. Mickey is snooping around the Maths department for anything he can find. Which begs the question, who is that the Doctor hears down the hall by the Headmaster's office?

He pauses a few metres away when he catches sight of the familiar brown hair backing out of the maintenance room the TARDIS is in. She seems to sense him, turns slowly his direction. For a moment, his voice doesn't work.

"Hello, Sarah Jane."

"It's you," she whispers. "Doctor?"

In an instant, the years melt away. He can almost feel that old scarf around his shoulders. He sees her as she was. As handy with the sonic screwdriver as she was with a shotgun. So brave, so independent. Then the instant is gone; as if shields suddenly slam down between them. You look incredible, she says. And also, I thought you'd died. She'd waited for him, for so long. But, no, he has to tell her, he didn't die. Everyone else did.

There are tears in her voice, tears of joy and sorrow and frustration and anger. "I can't believe it's you."

Then comes the inevitable scream from somewhere in the bowels of the school, and for another brief second, the shields come down again. Her face lights up. "Okay, now I can!"

And they run. Together.

---

Rose and Sarah Jane did not exactly take to each other. Oil and water would be an understatement. More like sodium and water. But there are more important things to be focused on right now than some petty squabble. The oil that Rose had gotten needed to be analyzed, but to do that required a few repairs to another old friend. The Doctor had left K-9 with Sarah Jane when he was recalled to Gallifrey. But the years had not been kind to him either, and he wasn't functioning anymore. So, while Mickey and Rose had some chips and talked about... whatever it is they talk about, Bob knows the Doctor doesn't get it, he and Sarah Jane worked on getting the little dog operational again.

She asks him why he didn't come back. Had she done something wrong, she wonders. How was she supposed to cope with returning to a mundane life? He'd taken her to the furthest stars, and then brought her home and expected her to just pick up. And it hurts to hear. It's not that he had no idea that's what it would be like for them; it's just... to hear it spoken aloud, to see the lost look in her eyes when she says he was her life. It drives the point home with startling clarity.

You could have come back. But he couldn't. And he can't tell her why. Can't voice the shame and the selfishness that's behind that decision.

He tells Rose later, though, when she confronts him about Sarah Jane. She'd thought she was special, being asked to ride with him. And she doesn't understand that just because she's one of an elite group, it doesn't make her any less special to him. All of his Companions were, in their own ways. But she presses him. He never mentioned Sarah Jane. He's never mentioned anyone.

"I don't age. I regenerate," he says to her finally. "But humans decay. You wither and you die. Imagine watching that happen to someone you..." Are fond of? Care about? Love? He doesn't know the words, so he leaves them unsaid. "You can spend the rest of your life with me. But I can't spend the rest of mine with you. I have to live on. Alone. That's the curse of the Time Lords." More specifically, the curse of the last of the Time Lords. The Lonely God, the Face of Boe had said. Is that really me?

---

He finds Finch by the pool. Or rather, Brother Lursa of the Krillitanes. He seems amused that the Doctor doesn't know what's going on here, challenges him to work it out for himself.

"If I don't like it, it will stop," the Doctor says. Not as a threat, merely as a simple fact. Brother Lursa asks if the Doctor intends to declare war on them. "I am so old now," the Time Lord continues, the weariness of centuries carefully hidden behind a cold and impassive stare. "I used to have so much mercy. You get one warning. That was it."

Finch insists that they aren't even enemies. That when the Doctor figures out what they are doing, he will join them. The Doctor doesn't even dignify that with a response. He just goes to find Rose and Sarah Jane in the Maths department. And find them he does. Laughing. At him! Bloody humans. Bloody women. Finally, he manages to get them calmed down and back to work figuring out what the Krillitanes are doing to the children.

Suddenly, the screens in the computer lab light up, scrolling characters and symbols across the screen at blinding speed. The Doctor stares at it in confusion that slowly turns to realization and then horror.

"The Skasis Paradigm. They're trying to crack the Skasis Paradigm." The God Maker. With that solved, a being would have control over the very building blocks of the universe. Time, space, matter, and dimension would be nothing more than playthings to be built and rebuilt however one saw fit. And because it's as much intuition and imagination as it is science and knowledge, the Krillitanes are using children. Accelerate their learning ability with the oil in the kitchens, plug them into the machines, and it's like two hundred dedicated neural networks working on literally the biggest problem in the universe.

And that's when Finch appears. Admiration in his eyes, and an offer on his lips. Become a god, at my side. The Doctor could save Gallifrey, Finch points out. He could prevent the war from ever happening. So much death and waste, completely reversible. To be with Rose forever. Give Sarah Jane agelessness. Bring back his granddaughter Susan. Save Adric. So many possibilities. He's tempted. Ohhh, yes, he's tempted.

Sarah Jane's words barely penetrate. They inject themselves like a needle into his thoughts, the antibodies to the sin of consideration. "Everything has its time," she says, completely unaware that she's speaking his own words back to him, "and everything ends."

Temptation quickly shifts to shame and then to fury. He grabs a chair and hurls it through the giant monitor. Time to do what he does best. Save the day.

---

It took K-9 to do it, in the end. One laser blast into the barrels of Krillitane oil and a blown up school later, the threat was over and the solution to the Skasis Paradigm remained safely unknown. Unfortunately, it meant K-9's sacrifice as well. Sarah Jane tried to put a brave face on it, calling him a 'daft metal dog', but the Doctor held her anyway, knowing that it was her only link to the life he'd made her leave behind.

He spends the night locked in the Zero Room. Leaves Rose and Mickey to go see a movie or some other human thing. He could have saved them all. And all it would have cost him was his soul. Even now, the Doctor isn't entirely certain it wouldn't have been worth the price.

She's better the next day, when he brings the TARDIS to her home. Not completely well, but better. The Doctor knows Sarah Jane too well, knows the hurt that lies behind those determined eyes, that willful smile. He offers to bring her with him, to make good on his promise to come back for her. She turns him down. Time to stop waiting for him and make her own life. Even insists that he say goodbye to her. Everything has its time, and everything ends. And he's so proud of her. Because she's strong. She's powerful. And, despite the trials of returning to a normal life, she is a better person for the time she spent with him. It's ironic, but the best proof of how important he was to her is the fact that she doesn't need him anymore.

All the same, he leaves behind a little present. The project he'd spent the sleepless night laboring over in the Zero Room. K-9 Mark IV, rebuilt, reconditioned, and updated. It's the least he can do for her.

He can't save them all. But some of them, only some, he can give the tools to save themselves.

The TARDIS doors open on a windy landscape. A grassy plain on the shore of a lake, with all manner of short-range atmospheric crafts buzzing about their tasks.

"It's the year five billion and twenty-three," the Doctor explains. "We're in the galaxy M-87, and this? This is New Earth."