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Title: The Fury of a Time Lord
Summary: Post-"Family of Blood", more playing around in the Nine-In-Ten's-Era-Verse: The Doctor can't sleep.
Prompt: Recovery
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Warnings: Nightmare Fuel, spoilers, possible rusty writing skills.
Author's Notes: Yes, I will confess I'm being a bit interpretive with the theme here, really.
The Doctor can't sleep.
It used to be because of the Time War -- seeing the images of Gallifrey being destroyed behind his eyes, almost as if they had been imprinted there. Images of the Skaro Degradations, the Could-Have-Been King and his army of Meanwhiles and Neverweres, and so much more. And at the same time, while these images still remain to an extent, new images have joined them. With the Skaro Degradations and the Could Have Been King and his army comes the images of the Family slaughtering their way across the landscape, looking for the Doctor. With Gallifrey's destruction comes the images of him, ultimately, punishing the Family after failed attempts to forestall their punishment, because after the other horrible things that he'd done, he had no desire to commit any more atrocities, even in the name of saving lives.
Joan Redfern had condemned him for his passivity, of course. And in a way, he knows she's right.
He can still see their punishments in vivid detail in his dreams. Imprisoning Daughter of Mine in every mirror. Wrapping Father of Mine in unbreakable chains, even as the man had pleaded with him to have pity -- all the while, reminding him of another man who had all but pleaded with him almost the same way Father of Mine had, so long ago.
"Won't you show mercy to your own -- "
And Mother of Mine, imprisoned in an event horizon in a star. Only Son of Mine had, in a way, been given a chance at redemption. He had been set to watch over the fields as a scarecrow, protecting them from harm in a sense.
And Rose and Martha -- how horrified they had been. Seeing the Doctor, their kindly Doctor, committing such a crime, committing such an act of divine retribution.
So he writes about it. Records it in the TARDIS log -- his dreams of fire, of Gallifrey being destroyed, how he had, almost in one fell swoop, dictated the fates of murderers -- they had wanted to be immortal. So he had made sure they were. He writes of the Degradations of Skaro and other horrors of the Time War. He writes of the Master and how he had burned alive, and how he had been too much of a coward, too frozen in his fear -- so much like with the Family of Blood, only there he was frightened of what he was capable of -- to save the Master. How he had tried to save the Master from falling into the Eye of Harmony, but couldn't.
He writes, because in the end, it's the only thing he can do.
Finally, exhausted from writing out his dreams, he sits back, before closing the notebook he uses as the TARDIS ship log. He doubts it will silence the screams in his mind, nor will it allow Rose and Martha to forgive him. Or Joan. But it doesn't mean he can't try.
Summary: Post-"Family of Blood", more playing around in the Nine-In-Ten's-Era-Verse: The Doctor can't sleep.
Prompt: Recovery
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Warnings: Nightmare Fuel, spoilers, possible rusty writing skills.
Author's Notes: Yes, I will confess I'm being a bit interpretive with the theme here, really.
The Doctor can't sleep.
It used to be because of the Time War -- seeing the images of Gallifrey being destroyed behind his eyes, almost as if they had been imprinted there. Images of the Skaro Degradations, the Could-Have-Been King and his army of Meanwhiles and Neverweres, and so much more. And at the same time, while these images still remain to an extent, new images have joined them. With the Skaro Degradations and the Could Have Been King and his army comes the images of the Family slaughtering their way across the landscape, looking for the Doctor. With Gallifrey's destruction comes the images of him, ultimately, punishing the Family after failed attempts to forestall their punishment, because after the other horrible things that he'd done, he had no desire to commit any more atrocities, even in the name of saving lives.
Joan Redfern had condemned him for his passivity, of course. And in a way, he knows she's right.
He can still see their punishments in vivid detail in his dreams. Imprisoning Daughter of Mine in every mirror. Wrapping Father of Mine in unbreakable chains, even as the man had pleaded with him to have pity -- all the while, reminding him of another man who had all but pleaded with him almost the same way Father of Mine had, so long ago.
"Won't you show mercy to your own -- "
And Mother of Mine, imprisoned in an event horizon in a star. Only Son of Mine had, in a way, been given a chance at redemption. He had been set to watch over the fields as a scarecrow, protecting them from harm in a sense.
And Rose and Martha -- how horrified they had been. Seeing the Doctor, their kindly Doctor, committing such a crime, committing such an act of divine retribution.
So he writes about it. Records it in the TARDIS log -- his dreams of fire, of Gallifrey being destroyed, how he had, almost in one fell swoop, dictated the fates of murderers -- they had wanted to be immortal. So he had made sure they were. He writes of the Degradations of Skaro and other horrors of the Time War. He writes of the Master and how he had burned alive, and how he had been too much of a coward, too frozen in his fear -- so much like with the Family of Blood, only there he was frightened of what he was capable of -- to save the Master. How he had tried to save the Master from falling into the Eye of Harmony, but couldn't.
He writes, because in the end, it's the only thing he can do.
Finally, exhausted from writing out his dreams, he sits back, before closing the notebook he uses as the TARDIS ship log. He doubts it will silence the screams in his mind, nor will it allow Rose and Martha to forgive him. Or Joan. But it doesn't mean he can't try.