Everything Burning

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Stiles warily picked it up.

The whispers get louder.

"Dad!" He shouted, who by the sound of the footsteps was upstairs.

"What is it?" His dad called back, by the bumps and muffled moving about he seemed to busy with something to come down.

"Who's is this Pocket Watch?"

There was a couple of minutes delayed response then his father replied sounding uncomfortable "It must be a family heirloom, it's been there for ages, why are you suddenly interested in it now? You never have been"

Stiles tensed slightly, been there for ages?

No, that wasn't possible.

"What do you mean? It wasn't here before?!"

Then his father laughed from upstairs as he replied teasingly "It's been there for years son, are you telling me you haven't noticed it until now? Some detective"

"You're funny, really" Stiles said sarcastically.

There was a chuckle from upstairs.

But that didn't make sense, how could it have been here for years if he hadn't noticed it until now?

That feeling as well, he just wanted to open it.

The whispers he couldn't make out but it almost sounded like his own voice.

Surrounding the watch and echoing in Stiles own head.

Something instinctual just told him to...open it.

Before that, he turned it around, frowning at the design on the back.

So familiar yet so strange at the same time.

The metal was smooth yet cold again this finger tips.

Stiles finally turned it back around. Everything inside him wanted him to open it but why?

What was coursing those whispers? Why did this just almost seem to call out to him?

He-he just had to find out.

Stiles cursed his own curiosity under his breath.

He opened the Pocket Watch.

A bright light glowed from the watch, pulling everything in him towards it. His eyes reflected the light as he stared into the watch.

You look familiar.

The Doctor.

The Tardis.

His words.

The Tardis's sound.

That noise.

It...all suddenly made sense.

Stiles dropped the watch, if fell to the floor, his hands still in the same position as if he was still holding it, his trembling hands.

It crashed to the floor, now completely empty, the whispers had stopped.

Stiles winced, slowly putting a hand to his temple, it...ached.

His head felt like it was going to explode.

And he...remembered.

Stiles remembered a beautiful powerful planet, watching over the universe and time itself.

My home.

He remembered it burning.

Everything burning.

The Daleks killing everything, they had fought back. A bloody and brutal war.

The Time War.

No one won, everyone lost, all because of him.

He destroyed them. All of them then ran! The coward.

The Doctor.

Stiles hadn't known what to do, all of them dead because of him.

He'd gone after him but he couldn't control their space ship by himself, hadn't been taught. He was to young to learn.

So he crash landed. Crash landed on earth.

So young.

So lost.

So hurt.

So alone.

He'd wanted to forget what happened, what happened to his planet, what the Doctor did. Forget that they were all dead. That they were the last of them, the last of their race.

He wasn't really human.

Stiles had used the ships technology to transform himself into a biological human.

Most of his race used this device to hide themselves in a certain race if they wanted too, he'd used to because he wanted to forget.

Forget his past.

Forget what had happened.

Forget how the Doctor had betrayed him and their people.

Forget how everything burned, and those screams.

Only opening the Pocket Watch would return him back to normal.

He wasn't who he thought he'd been.

He wasn't Stiles.

He wasn't human.

But then how could he even be called by that name anymore. He didn't deserve it.

Stiles touched his chest, there it was...

Seconds ago he'd only be able to hear and feel one.

Two heart beats.

He wasn't human any more.

He was a Time Lord.

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