Between the conception
And the creation,
Between the emotion
And the response....
The Hollow Men
T.S. Elliot
Before...
This brave human girl was staring up at me, fear and hatred shining bright in her dark eyes. So much hatred in one so young as she defiantly retorted, "Who can tell the difference anymore!"
Nothing I could tell her would persuade her any differently, not even my ineffectual pounding on the airlock door. Alas, not even my futile attempts to dissuade her from her mindless determination to take us both to our deaths and to override the locking system proved effective. Even as our eyes met through that tiny window, her sobbing in terror and anger and I pleading for her to open the door and join me- even then I knew it was hopeless.
There in a moment of stark clarity as I felt the ship beneath my feet breach the upper atmosphere of the planet below, flashes of what it all had come to came to me. The Eternals were no more; the Zygons had fled throughout time and space, scattered like so much chaff before the wind; and everything that I had knew and loved was destroyed or nigh on to it. The hopelessness I suddenly felt was reflected back by the unflinching eyes of a young human girl who was determined to take up arms against the greater threat by taking one, lone Time Lord to the grave with her. But what folly, what irony, her getting the one example of that people who was a noncombatants. And in those dark eyes I saw the myriad of hopes and dreams, fears and desires looking back at me, such as I'd seen in the eyes of so many before her. It was why I travelled with them, took them as companions- to see the wonders of the universe anew through their eyes. And now, here was one who'd seen the wonders replaced by horrors. So much so that the tide was rapidly turning, rushing past the tipping point. How much longer before there was nothing left, when all was lost to paradoxes and time being rewritten so many times that it all just fell apart?
I had run for so long, stopping back once, on a foolish trip down memory lane to spy on my younger selves and my former companions from afar. Rarely was I seen, merely a fleeting glimpse in the corner of the eye in a moment where everyone was caught up in celebrating their survival, but I was there. It was a comfort, seeing them so alive, untarnished by later events. I saw Adric arguing with Tegan and watched Mel coerce me into joining her in her calisthenics routine. That coat didn't mesh with exercise band she'd put around my forehead, but no worries on that- nothing else actually went with it either. Certainly not myself looking in on a stolen moment, trying to shove away all thoughts of the war for all of reality happening now, then, tomorrow and never all at once.
What finally sent me back to the inevitable spiral that was fate was accidentally running into Ace in London. She was coming out of that boarding house as I was rushing to the school, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ian and Barbara before they stepped into the snare of destiny and decided to investigate a certain student of theirs. Overhearing her muttering to herself and complaining about, "Not getting any real explanations about anything, ever," I could not help myself.
I spoke up. "What good would it do, child? How could I have explained what was going on when I still hasn't figured everything out and the rest of it I was trying to deny to myself? What would you have thought if I'd just said right out, 'Ooops, sorry. I mustn't have been thinking when I left behind that thing that could've turned your whole planet into a burnt out waste'?" A hint of my former accent crept into my voice, my tone slightly sharp with closely held guilt and remorse.
She stopped, shoulders hunched beneath that bulky jacket that she loved with all its colorful patches. Hesitating, she called out, "Professor," not turning around, noting the unfamiliar voice she'd heard. That little hint of challenge, that still held that layer of trust in it, warmed me. I hadn't manipulated her or betrayed and broken her trust yet. Her trust was intact at this period in time, while I was the one who now felt so broken, so useless. When I didn't answer, my throat too tight and dry to speak, she finally did turn and regarding me, said, "What's all this about then? You're not the Professor, who the hell are you?"
I cringed from the accusation in her voice, thinking she was more right about that then she'd ever possibly know. This, this wasn't making things better. It was merely cowardice and malfeasance, avoiding responsibility. I couldn't keep on turning a blind eye to what was happening out there, while all of time and space hung in the balance. What would Ace think of me then, if she knew? Far worse than she would soon after this, when I was still a man in a question mark waistcoat with a straw hat on my head and schemes in my soul. No schemes now, only regret. Bowing my head and stepping aside, I answered, "No one," before hurrying on my way. I shouldn't have come; I was playing with fire, risking too much by getting this close to my past. Meddle too much and it all could end up unravelling. As much as I would wish to undo some of my worst moments in my past, I couldn't. I just couldn't. That way lay the same spurious morality that I was fleeing.
During....
"Bring me knitting!"
Anything to get my mind off the rapidly decreasing time I had left to decide. Looking down at Cass' broken body, ignoring the impending choice I had, I was reminded of Ace. The girl had had her spirit, her fire... all quenched, now. She'd looked at me with the same expression that Davros had, when I'd tried to save him. When I had tried to pull him from his death at the jaws of his own creation, he had denied me just the same. He would rather die than take mercy from the likes of me, just as she had. Then again, perhaps being deposed as Emperor of the Daleks and having his own legacy turn their backs on him, like he was an irrelevant relic of the past, was just too much.
This place, so many memories, so much I had wanted to avoid, to forget- of course it would be Karn. And here I was, the Sisterhood looking on and waiting for their answer with baited breaths, wondering if I, myself was an irrelevant relic. Certainly my pacifism was, since it was becoming clearer that the only way to save anything was to start destroying what was necessary. So clear that it was now far nobler to take up arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing, end them. I could see through the glass darkly and it was time to put away childish things. Things like the hope that it would all just go away, and the Time Lords and Daleks both would turn back from their course of utter destruction. There wasn't any real hope for the Daleks, but my own people... I had thought they'd be better than that, rise above petty things like the urge to conquer and prevail. But no, they were not. And if there was going to be anything left for the Lucie's, Molly's and yes, the Ace's of the universe, so be it.
I would fight.
For what need was there of Doctors to fix things and make them better when all had gone too far to repair? What else was there when all trust was lost and no amount of machinations and clever schemes would make it not so? So little time to decide, but really, how much time did one need? Dragging it out wouldn't make it any better, make it any less distasteful than it already was. Didn't make my self-condemnation any less, seeing that girl lying there, dead. What had I become, too craven to fight but too useless to save anyone as I was? Even she'd seen it, and I was too late to save her now. But how many more could I save, if I had more time? That was what was being offered: time. Time to make a difference, instead of being carried along like flotsam in the tide, like debris crashing onto a world that would shortly fall to the onslaught, otherwise. Everything might be coming to ruin around this world, and all might be rapidly shattering around me, but I would do this.
I could see the Eternal Flame burning bright in the distance, chastening and repulsing me both. Who would want to live forever, much less what could last forever, when it was all coming to a singularity of universal destruction? It's light and warmth failed to warm me, when the cold surety of the final end was simmering in my bones. But this was it, what it all came down to in the end. A moment to decide and no more. Someone had to make a stand, had to do what was right- and if I was lucky, I wouldn't survive long enough to see what little was left standing afterwards.
"Physician, heal thyself."
