May. 22nd, 2013 03:02 am
So, that ate my brain a bit
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clocketpatchWARNING
The following fic was written in a sleep-deprived state and is apt to be full of nonsense. It is also based off speculation, rumours, and spoilers for the 50th Anniversary Special of Doctor Who. If you want none of that, I suggest you avoid clicking the cut. Otherwise, dive right in and enjoy.
Sometimes, when a Time Lord regenerated, it went wrong. Temporary mental instability or physical disability were common, especially in unassisted, emergency regeneration events, but when these traits continued past the first few traumatic days and hours, it was diagnosed as a medical problem.
Sometimes, these cases were severe. Sometimes, there would be a total mental break from the prior personality of the Time Lord in question, usually accompanied by a degeneration of morals and an unwillingness to follow Gallifreyan social mores. These regenerations were regarded as Errors. There was no proof, but rumours persisted throughout the Citadel that erroneous regeneration was the result of a mental attack during the formative moments of a new incarnation's life. Under Gallifreyan law, Time Lords were not responsible for acts committed by their Errors if it could be proven that a complete break had occurred.
Under Gallifreyan law, all Errors had to submit to treatment upon diagnosis of their condition.
There was only one accepted cure.
To force-regenerate the unfortunate Time Lord until their former personality and self resurfaced, and their neural pathways were scraped clean from any lingering effect.
This treatment was not always successful. Force-regeneration was risky. Some died. Some never regained their former selves.
Those Errors who were unresponsive to treatment, yet managed to escape and live out their lives, passing their breakaway personality traits down from regeneration to regeneration had a name, feared and despised in polite Gallifreyan society.
They were the renegades.
*
"I was something different," the Doctor told Clara. "I didn't become a Renegade; I was born that way. I knew that, eventually, it would be noticed. As my first life drew to its close, I became afraid. While I was an unregenerated child, no one would charge me or force me into a treatment facility, but I knew that as soon as I had shed my first body they would come for me. And they did."
"I remember," said Clara. "They put you in the machine – but then they exiled you. Why would they exile you if they didn't think you were responsible for your actions?"
The Doctor smiled wanly. "Because they knew what I was. They'd been aware of what I was since before I left Gallifrey. They let me live, because they thought I might be useful to them later. It's a dirty secret our society had about its renegades; we were all tamed rebels. We could have been snuffed out in an instant if the High Council had really wanted us gone, but they were bored and our antics were amusing to them."
"And him," Clara said, not wanting to name the man the Doctor said was a part of him, the betrayer of the promise.
"He was an Error," the Doctor said. "A true Error. He went back to Gallifrey and acted contrite, acted like a proper Time Lord. He denounced the name of Doctor and was forgiven for his crimes against the universe. He joined the High Council and was part of the committee which raised the Ghost of Rassilon."
"But that's not the secret," Clara said.
"No," the Doctor confirmed.
"What did he do?" Clara asked. "It had to have been something extremely not nice for you to have completely disowned him."
The Doctor gave a small laugh. "Not nice? That's a way of putting it, Clara. Yes, I expect that what he did was very, 'Not nice'."
"You don't know."
"Not in detail."
"But you have his memories."
"I have the knowledge that those memories exist. I keep them locked away. Even Mr. Clever didn't manage to access them, not even the Old God. I have buried him and what he did. I have laid more locks on him than the Pandorica, because he is the reason that prison was built."
"Doctor, do you know or don't you?"
"You've been up and down my time lines, Clara. What do you think?"
"The Time War," Clara said, with absolute certainty. "He had something to do with the War." She swallowed. "He was the one who pushed the button, wasn't he?"
The Doctor looked at Clara, staring deep into her eyes, eyes that had seen all of his lives and yet still understood so little about him.
"Oh Clara, Clara Oswald, no he wasn't the one to end the Time War. I did that. In my own name. And I will never forgive myself for it or attempt to justify my actions with words like peace, or sanity, because when I made that decision neither of those words still existed. But I did it. I used the Moment. I listened to the screams of my people as they died. I watched the Dalek fleet burn to dust. In. My. Own. Name."
His voice rose as he spoke until he was all but shouting the last sentence.
"Doctor…" Clara said, uncertain if she was trying to get his attention, to ask a question, or to confirm the name he'd ended the War with.
"Yes," the Doctor said, and it could've been a confirmation, or an invitation for Clara to continue talking. She took it as the later, though his face was stony and his hands were trembling from the confession he'd already made.
"If he didn't…" she asked, softly, "What did he do?"
A Doctor breathed deeply. He closed his eyes for a long moment, composing himself before he gave away this, his greatest and most damning secret.
"He didn't end the Time War, Clara."
"He started it."
The following fic was written in a sleep-deprived state and is apt to be full of nonsense. It is also based off speculation, rumours, and spoilers for the 50th Anniversary Special of Doctor Who. If you want none of that, I suggest you avoid clicking the cut. Otherwise, dive right in and enjoy.
Sometimes, when a Time Lord regenerated, it went wrong. Temporary mental instability or physical disability were common, especially in unassisted, emergency regeneration events, but when these traits continued past the first few traumatic days and hours, it was diagnosed as a medical problem.
Sometimes, these cases were severe. Sometimes, there would be a total mental break from the prior personality of the Time Lord in question, usually accompanied by a degeneration of morals and an unwillingness to follow Gallifreyan social mores. These regenerations were regarded as Errors. There was no proof, but rumours persisted throughout the Citadel that erroneous regeneration was the result of a mental attack during the formative moments of a new incarnation's life. Under Gallifreyan law, Time Lords were not responsible for acts committed by their Errors if it could be proven that a complete break had occurred.
Under Gallifreyan law, all Errors had to submit to treatment upon diagnosis of their condition.
There was only one accepted cure.
To force-regenerate the unfortunate Time Lord until their former personality and self resurfaced, and their neural pathways were scraped clean from any lingering effect.
This treatment was not always successful. Force-regeneration was risky. Some died. Some never regained their former selves.
Those Errors who were unresponsive to treatment, yet managed to escape and live out their lives, passing their breakaway personality traits down from regeneration to regeneration had a name, feared and despised in polite Gallifreyan society.
They were the renegades.
*
"I was something different," the Doctor told Clara. "I didn't become a Renegade; I was born that way. I knew that, eventually, it would be noticed. As my first life drew to its close, I became afraid. While I was an unregenerated child, no one would charge me or force me into a treatment facility, but I knew that as soon as I had shed my first body they would come for me. And they did."
"I remember," said Clara. "They put you in the machine – but then they exiled you. Why would they exile you if they didn't think you were responsible for your actions?"
The Doctor smiled wanly. "Because they knew what I was. They'd been aware of what I was since before I left Gallifrey. They let me live, because they thought I might be useful to them later. It's a dirty secret our society had about its renegades; we were all tamed rebels. We could have been snuffed out in an instant if the High Council had really wanted us gone, but they were bored and our antics were amusing to them."
"And him," Clara said, not wanting to name the man the Doctor said was a part of him, the betrayer of the promise.
"He was an Error," the Doctor said. "A true Error. He went back to Gallifrey and acted contrite, acted like a proper Time Lord. He denounced the name of Doctor and was forgiven for his crimes against the universe. He joined the High Council and was part of the committee which raised the Ghost of Rassilon."
"But that's not the secret," Clara said.
"No," the Doctor confirmed.
"What did he do?" Clara asked. "It had to have been something extremely not nice for you to have completely disowned him."
The Doctor gave a small laugh. "Not nice? That's a way of putting it, Clara. Yes, I expect that what he did was very, 'Not nice'."
"You don't know."
"Not in detail."
"But you have his memories."
"I have the knowledge that those memories exist. I keep them locked away. Even Mr. Clever didn't manage to access them, not even the Old God. I have buried him and what he did. I have laid more locks on him than the Pandorica, because he is the reason that prison was built."
"Doctor, do you know or don't you?"
"You've been up and down my time lines, Clara. What do you think?"
"The Time War," Clara said, with absolute certainty. "He had something to do with the War." She swallowed. "He was the one who pushed the button, wasn't he?"
The Doctor looked at Clara, staring deep into her eyes, eyes that had seen all of his lives and yet still understood so little about him.
"Oh Clara, Clara Oswald, no he wasn't the one to end the Time War. I did that. In my own name. And I will never forgive myself for it or attempt to justify my actions with words like peace, or sanity, because when I made that decision neither of those words still existed. But I did it. I used the Moment. I listened to the screams of my people as they died. I watched the Dalek fleet burn to dust. In. My. Own. Name."
His voice rose as he spoke until he was all but shouting the last sentence.
"Doctor…" Clara said, uncertain if she was trying to get his attention, to ask a question, or to confirm the name he'd ended the War with.
"Yes," the Doctor said, and it could've been a confirmation, or an invitation for Clara to continue talking. She took it as the later, though his face was stony and his hands were trembling from the confession he'd already made.
"If he didn't…" she asked, softly, "What did he do?"
A Doctor breathed deeply. He closed his eyes for a long moment, composing himself before he gave away this, his greatest and most damning secret.
"He didn't end the Time War, Clara."
"He started it."
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Apparently we both came to the same conclusion.
Dear, poor Doctor. I had to write in the stuff about Gallifrey after the fact, and the idea that maybe the regeneration had been hijacked from outside, because the idea that he's got a cold hearted, do-it-by-the-book, kill-them-all-with-politics, normal Time Lord buried inside is, as you say, more than a bit unbearable.
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This is chillingly good.
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