My Mad Doctor

Chapter 17

A/N Hey, I honestly can't thank you guys enough for the amount of reads I have on this story. I never thought- never imagined it could get this many, and I would be nothing without every single one of you, so thank you. This is sort of a filler chapter but I promise it is important. You'll understand soon. Enjoy :)

Violet's P.O.V.

“I want to see him.” I announced after hours of leaning against the railing in the TARDIS, not bothering to stand. The Doctor did not wait patiently, but he did not disturb my silence reverence to honour Sexton. Instead, he went deep into the TARDIS and did whatever it was that he did when no one was around to talk to. Some part of me wished to explore the machine, but I was too sad to care.

When he’d come up to check on me, I made this announcement as confidently as I could, trying to regain some feeling of life.

“Violet,” The Doctor started in a knowing voice. Sensing another lecture on time streams and whatnot, I jumped in to explain.

“I don’t mean in person or anything. I want to see his…” my voice trailed off as I stared at The Doctor with watering eyes. He nodded, turning away from me to move to the console. After pressing a few random buttons and pulling lever, we were off.

I clutched the bar tightly, smiling a little. I’d forgotten how much I missed the rocking of the TARDIS after nearly a year without it. The constant motion, the adventure; this life made it easy to ignore your problems and enjoy seeing the universe.

When we landed, I stood up shakily. The Doctor took my arm and led me out into the current time once more. I blinked rapidly, trying to block my eyes from the sun. It felt like forever since I’d seen the sun.

Once they adjusted to the light, my eyes scanned the graveyard for any sign of his name. It took seconds to find. He was one of the lucky ones who were sent home to be buried; most were just left to rot.

His grave was a simple stone square half buried in the ground. On it read:

General Arthur Sexton. June 21, 1859- October 17, 1914.

So he did die that day. No one else came to save him. He died alone in the mud, and I let him. I could have saved him. I could have tried, at least. I did nothing, and now he was in a box in the ground while I stood above, staring down and wondering if things could have been different.

I knelt down on the ground and dug my fingernails in the dirt, searching for something to ground me to this moment, this second. The guilt would choke me alive if I didn’t find peace with myself. Closing my eyes, I leveled my breathing and focused on expelling the gilt from my body. I imagined that I was a tree, and through my roots I poured all the bad emotions into the soil. It didn’t help much, but it did give me a certain sense of peace.

Instead of spouting out some brilliant, beautiful speech about my grief and shame to the empty stone, I said the only words I could manage that summed up everything I was feeling. I just hoped it was enough.

“I’m sorry, General. I’m sorry.”

With that, I stood up, wiped off my hands, and walked back into the TARDIS. The Doctor was leaning against the doorframe, but I just pushed past him and stepped inside.

~~~~~~~

Doctor’s P.O.V.

As I watched her kneeling beside the soldier’s grave, I finally realized how much this man meant to her. He was there for her when I wasn’t. He saved her when I couldn’t. The thought sent a spike of pain through my chest, as if I was the one who condemned him to death.

There was no way around it, though. That man had to die, or Violet would have. It was a fixed moment in time, and I couldn’t save him. One of them had to die on that day or a paradox would have been created. I chose Violet over some random man, despite her wishes.

The agonized expression on her face when I explained to her the choice she had to make broke my heart. I understood her pain, as I’d been in her situation more than a few times. Still, seeing it happen to someone else and knowing that I gave her no choice was horrible.

She would never wish to travel with me again. I wanted her there, of course, but she would hate me. The thought of her wanting to stay at home was bearable, but hatred was a concept I couldn’t accept. I had to, though. She hated me, or at least she should. When I planned my valiant rescue back in the trenches, I never expected it to go so wrong. I thought she’d be grateful. I never expected her to make friends.

I forced her to do something she didn’t wish to do, and now a man was dead because of it. She blamed herself now, and nothing I could say could ever stop that.

When she pushed past me into the TARDIS, I felt her anger and sadness in my chest, as if it was my own. It just radiated off of her like an aurora.

Instead of following her in, I ran out to check something. Sure enough, I realized that this was the same graveyard I’d originally been in after Violet was taken. Not ten minutes had passed.

When I came to the spot where I saw Violet’s name, I exhaled in relief when it was gone. Instead, though, a different name was plastered on the stone.

It was the General’s grave.

I noticed, then, something that wasn’t there moments before. Something Violet would have missed but made all the difference in the world.

Right beneath the date of his death, three half faded words carved into the stone caught my attention. They were difficult to read, but not impossible. Once I understood what they meant, though, my mind began racing with possibilities.

Missing in action.