The Time War: Rebellion

Six

They stood nervously, waiting for something, anything, to happen.
The old man and the young boy; both holding deadly-looking energy weapons. Behind them: a tattered police box and a large, grey tube-like object.
There was nothing but the wind. It wasn't a particularly strong gale, but compared to the eerie silence of the wasteland the two people stood on, it was deafening. The old man fidgeted with his gun impatiently, and Beo glanced up wearily.
"Why did we need the guns again?" he asked exasperatedly.
"How many times do I have to tell you?" the man replied, "I have no idea who the man we're waiting for is going to be. He could be a murderer, he could be dangerous; hell, after this war I wouldn't be surprised if he was a psychopath."
Beo apprehensively looked around, and, through the wind, noticed a sound. He recognised it as the sound of the man's TARDIS landing.
The old man had noticed it too. He had readied his gun, and his feet were planted firmly on the ground. Beo did the same. The other TARDIS finally landed. The bright blueness was a stark contrast to not just the surrounding wasteland, but also the old man's TARDIS.
The Doctor stepped out, and, noticing the two weapons pointing at him, he rolled his eyes and raised both his hands in the air.
"Are you really going to shoot me? I really wouldn't recommend it, given the fact that my TARDIS is currently emitting a hyper-sensitive forcefield that will counteract any major weapon discharge in a twelve mile vicinity, meaning that your weapons will self-destruct and you will both die."
"You're bluffing." said the old man.
"Of course I am," the Doctor replied, "but think about it: you kill me now, and you're basically ensuring your own death in the future. Sort of like an ontological paradox, only with death. How fun."
The old man sighed and dropped his weapon, and Beo again did the same.
"Why have you brought me here?" the Doctor asked.
"Rassilon." The old man studied his future incarnation's face, searching for any kind of emotion. So far, he had not been successful.
The Doctor said "Ah, no. What you do in your incarnation is up to you. But you're not gonna drag me into it. We really should start following our own advice shouldn't we? Especially after that run in with the Rani in '93."
The old man walked towards the Doctor and held out his hand.
The Doctor stared at his hand and did nothing.
The old man dropped his hand down and said, "You're not the first other incarnation I've met. But I have to say, they were all a lot friendlier than you. Is it me specifically causing all this aggression, or is your regeneration just not particularly nice?"
There was a pause, and the Doctor coldly smiled. "The Time War is nothing to do with me. I don't even know how I'm here; the whole War should be time-locked."
The old man shook his head and turned around, walking back towards Beo. "I told you it wouldn't work. We're leaving."
He opened the door to his TARDIS, and so did the Doctor. Beo ran to the space between each ship.
"Stop!"
Both men paused, staring at him.
"Why can no-one see that this is the only way? I need you both, and you both need each other if we're gonna stop Rassilon. I know that neither of you want to do anything, but... I think you both know that you need to. The consequences are too massive to not do anything. There are people, innocent people, already affected by this stupid War, and soon it's gonna get a hell of a lot worse for them. It's our duty to help them. To save them. And I know that you both know that."
The two men stared at the ground. Beo was right; they both knew, deep down, that they would have to put their differences aside and help. In the deserted wasteland, a single, greying leaf sailed to the ground. The Doctor stared at it.
He knew that his younger self had brought him here about the Weapon. He'd heard stories of how Rassilon was said to have a device capable of wiping things from time itself, and he'd heard enough to know that this device was what this was all about. This weapon would destroy everything, including, at some point in the future, Earth.
He could not let this happen.
He looked again at the decaying leaf, laying still on the hard ground, and thought of Clara. His Impossible Girl, her whole life owing to one leaf. He thought of her, at home with her "Netflix Night". He thought of Donna, of Martha; hell, he even thought of Danny. Even Rose would be affected by this weapon, the weapon easily capable of breaking down the barriers that separated one universe from another.
He could not let this happen. He would not let this happen.
He walked towards to his younger self, the one he still despised so much, and held out his hand.
The old man took it.