Lost In Time: A Doctor Who Fanfiction

Chapter 122 - Day of the Doctor: Round 1, Part 3

"'No'?" Ten repeated, raising his eyebrows in question at his younger self.

The War Doctor shook his head. "Just... no."

Eleven shook his head, letting out a humorless laugh.

"Is something funny?" Ten turned to him sarcastically. "Did I miss a funny thing?"

"Sorry," Eleven apologized blithely. "It just occurred to me that this is what I'm like when I think I'm alone. Blimey." He glanced at Lyssa. "No wonder you don't like leaving me alone."

She pursed her lips, seeing the hidden pain beneath the nonchalant air all too easily. But, ever a man with a healthy dose of pride, he wouldn't want to talk about it publicly... even in front of himself.

Ten scoffed, turning away and pulling out his sonic screwdriver, flipping it idly in the air as he pretended he wasn't bored.

Bad Wolf shifted to stand by him, watching him with a sad smile for a moment before turning back to the War Doctor. "It's the same screwdriver," she reminded him quietly. "Same software... different case."

Lyssa felt a smile creep onto her lips as the light of realization, of a mystery solved - the same across regenerations - brightened his eyes. He pulled out his own sonic, so very different, and yet the same.

"Four hundred years!" he exclaimed, startling Ten, who fumbled and nearly dropped his own sonic before catching it.

"Sorry?" he asked, shooting his predecessor a dirty look.

"At a software level, they're all the same device, aren't they?" the War Doctor asked, raising his sonic in the air as he stood up and approached the door. "Same software, different case."

"Yeah, so?" Ten did not look nearly as impressed, though he and Eleven - who had finished his own work and pulled out his own sonic - followed him anyway.

Lyssa crossed her arms and leaned back against the pillar, watching them start to cooperate for the first time with a proud smile.

"So, it would take centuries for the screwdriver to calculate how to disintegrate the door," the War Doctor started, running his sonic over the door. "Scanning the door, implanting the calculation as a permanent subroutine in the software architecture and," he turned to face the other two, "if you really are me, with your sandshoes, and your dicky bow, and that screwdriver is still mine... that calculation is still going on."

Banishing the sulk that had appeared at the insult to his beloved shoes yet again, Ten activated his sonic and pulled it to his ear. "Yeah, still going!" he marveled.

Eleven activated his in turn, raising his eyebrows at the others. "Calculation complete," he grinned.

"Same software, different face," Bad Wolf said, leaning against the wall with a smirk.

"And always the dumbest genius in the room," the voice sighed, sounding unbearably fond.

"Four hundred years in four seconds," Eleven whispered to his past selves. "We may have our differences, which is frankly odd under the circumstances, and I know Lyssa's going to judge me for this, but I tell you what, boys, we are incredibly clever!"

"I'll let you have that for about the next two seconds," Lyssa informed him dryly, grinning in anticipation.

Eleven's smile fell. "What do you mean?" he asked warily.

And then the door swung open and Clara burst in, red skirt swishing around her knees and panting. She glanced behind her, then turned back to the group, tilting her head curiously at Ten and the War Doctor, recognition flickering in her eyes.