Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter One

Liz Shaw stepped into the laboratory and nearly stepped right out again.

“Still tinkering with that old box, Doctor?” she asked with a faint smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

The Doctor peeked up from the TARDIS console he’d planted right in the middle of the laboratory, right between lab benches and storage cabinets, and dared to smile at her. His face was dirtied with engine oil, or time-fluid as he would probably call it, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He’d crumpled his blue velvet coat over Liz’s stool and forgotten about it.

“I think I can find a way around the Time Lord’s memory block. I just need to learn how to work the TARDIS manually. It should be simple.”

Liz raised an eyebrow.

“Doctor,” she said with a sigh, “Something tells me nothing about your people is simple.”

The Doctor ran his finger across his upper lip. He stared at the console for a long moment, at the wires and switches he’d pried out of their sockets. The console blinked back at him, buttons flashing on and off in a pattern that almost looked like Morse code. Deciding he wasn’t going to get anywhere, the Doctor tossed his Sonic Screwdriver onto one of the lab benches and stepped away, toward Liz.

“You’re right, Liz.” He huffed and sat on the nearest stool, arms flopping onto his lap. “My people never do anything halfway.”

“Oh, Doctor.” Liz massaged his shoulder with a comforting hand and a soft smile. She tilted her head, and he found that the smile had finally reached her eyes. “Let’s leave it for now. The Brigadier’s called a meeting. I think they're installing a new water fountain and he has to give us a rundown on proper protocol.”

The Doctor smiled at that. He honestly wasn’t sure if she was joking or not - last week, the Brigadier had turned a poor Sergeant’s choice in the Mess Hall into an HQ-wide PSA on the importance of healthy eating. Ice cream disappeared from the menu overnight, and a black market involving chips, cookies, and soda pop had sprung up overnight.

“You go on ahead, Liz,” he said. “I’m just going to clean up here.”

She patted him on the back once more, and then kissed the top of his head.

“Alright. But be careful. And don’t make me bail you out later; I want to avoid the Brigadier’s wrath as much as you do.”

“I’ll be there,” he promised.

They shared one last smile before Liz went out of the lab. Her heels clicked down the hallway until they were out of earshot.

And then, rather shockingly, a teleport beam glowed beside the TARDIS console.

“What on Earth-?” sputtered the Doctor, rising so quickly that the stool screeched across the tile floor.

The beam dissipated as quickly as it had appeared. But in its place stood a man: a man in a simple red robe, rather like those worn by Jedi in the Doctor’s favorite films, and a gold hat that hugged his head rather closely. A man who was, in fact, a Time Lord.

A Time Lord who looked inconceivably similar to himself.

“What are you doing here?” asked the Doctor, taking an unconscious step toward the man, though he set off so many red alarms that the Doctor’s mind was buzzing.

“You could say I’m doing the Lord’s work, but that would be a bit pretentious of you.” The man smirked at his own words and took a step nearer the Doctor.

This time, the Doctor stepped back, away from the stranger. Well, if he could be considered a stranger, given that he looked and sounded just like himself. Had the same piercing blue eyes. The same gray hair, though his was cut shorter than the Doctor’s.

“Are you from my future?” the Doctor asked, furrowing his brows as he watched the man closely.

“Future. Past. What are these terms to us?”

“Are you from my personal future?”

The thought terrified and excited the Doctor. If he saw his future self wearing the clothes of a fully qualified Time Lord…well that would mean that he would, someday, be in their good graces again. But it would also mean that he was no longer…him. That he had replaced velvet and freedom with Gallifreyan robes and aristocracy.

He wasn’t sure if it was joy or sadness he felt when the Time Lord shook his head.

“I am from your present.”

“My…present?”

The Time Lord smirked again. There was a darkness in his eyes that was undeniable; something hidden just in the irises that only someone who looked into those eyes every day in a mirror would recognize.

“Yes, Doctor,” said the Time Lord. “I’m here, now, to rescue you from this life. To take you where you’re meant to be. To make you who you are meant to be.”

The Doctor stepped forward again, unable to stop himself. He was drawn to this person, for reasons he couldn’t explain. Drawn to learn about this life he was supposedly ‘meant’ to be living. Drawn to the idea of escaping, even if it were with this strange character.

“Why should I trust you?”

“Ah, I thought you might ask that.” The Time Lord sighed, folding his hands in front of himself. “I don’t need your trust.”

“Oh? Don’t you?”

The Time Lord shook his head and took another step nearer the Doctor, backing him into one of the lab benches.

“If you refuse to come with me, then I’ll simply take you by force.”

The Doctor straightened his spine. Despite the circumstances, despite the fact that his back was literally against a wall formed by the lab bench and half of the senior staff was locked in a ridiculous meeting on the other side of HQ, he smiled.

“Well that settles it. Now I know you’re not me.”

“Are you sure about that, Doctor?”

“I don’t make threats very lightly. Especially not against people I’ve just met, who haven’t done me any harm.”

“Oh, but Doctor,” the Time Lord took yet another step forward. His shoes nearly touched the Doctor’s, but he left a distinctive gap between himself and his identical. “You’re not someone I’ve just met. In fact, you’re someone I’ve known for a very long time.”

“Can I ask what your name is, then?” The Doctor shifted, bracing himself against the lab bench rather awkwardly in an attempt to wriggle away from the other man. He ended with both of his hands held against the edge of the metal table, feet turned toward the door in case he needed to make a quick escape.

“You can ask,” the Time Lord’s lips curled into a Cheshire Cat smile. “But I’m not sure you’ll like the answer.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes.

“Enough with the riddles, man.”

The Time Lord raised his brows slightly, tilting his chin up so that he could gaze down at the Doctor of his same height.

“I call myself…Theta.”

“Theta?” breathed the Doctor. “I haven’t heard that name since-”

“Since you left Gallifrey? Since you were a child, wanting desperately to run away, no matter where running got you?” The Time Lord, Theta, nodded with a sudden frown. “We’ll discuss these things, Doctor, and much more. But we must go somewhere private. My TARDIS?”

The Doctor glanced toward the door. There was no way he could make it over there without Theta catching him first. And even if he could…there were so many questions left to answer. So many things about this man - this Theta - that he needed to know. The Brigadier’s meeting could wait. He needed to learn more.

“Alright,” he said, then held up a finger. “But I expect a full explanation.”

“My dear Doctor, that’s why I’m here.” Theta shook his head, and backed up a pace to allow the Doctor some space. “I don’t know how to convince you that I’m here for your benefit, as well as ours.”

The Doctor’s head perked up.

“Ours? Who are you working with?”

“All in due time, Doctor.” Theta gestured with a long-sleeved arm, robes draping rather elegantly toward the floor. “Come with me. I will explain everything.”

The Doctor followed despite the red flags. Despite the infinite warnings. Despite his own inclination to stay and tinker with his TARDIS a bit longer. He snatched his coat from the stool and let Theta lead the way through a suspiciously empty hallway and out into the yard beside UNIT HQ.

There was no telling where this journey would lead. But the Doctor was determined to see it through to the end; no matter the cost. He simply had to know. He had to learn the truth behind this stranger Theta.

He had to know who he was.

. . . . .

“It’s rather dull.”

The Doctor looked around the TARDIS with his hands on his hips. The outside had been a metal shell, the kind they had on Gallifrey: designed to look as boring and governmental as possible to dissuade robbers. The inside wasn’t better. The walls were painted with more shades of gray than the Doctor knew existed, and the console was a simple switchboard with labeled buttons and controls.

Theta looked up from the door-closing switch he’d just operated and frowned.

“It’s not meant to be exciting. TARDISes are for scientific research; for investigating universal and temporal crises. Or have you forgotten?”

The Doctor shook his head at his companion.

“You know, you’re doing a terrible job convincing me that you are somehow me. Beyond appearances, we’re nothing alike.”

“Oh yes we are, Doctor. You just don’t know yet.”

With that, Theta reached up to the highest control on the panel in front of him and pulled a lever down. The TARDIS hummed, buzzing as if excited to see where he would take her next. But instead of setting coordinates, Theta turned a predatory eye on the Doctor. It was difficult to ignore, but the Doctor managed to draw his thoughts back to the TARDIS.

“Where are you taking us?”

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere, Doctor.” Theta hit a switch and began turning a small dial on the console. “But I have a meeting to go to.”

The Doctor had time to raise an eyebrow; to hear Theta’s words; to process that something bad was about to happen to him. But before he could do more than shuffle forward a step or two, a column was descending around him. It was made of a material as strong as a heavy metal but as translucent as glass, allowing him to watch Theta’s lips spread in that bone-chilling smile again.

“Theta?” he called, unsure if his voice could be heard on the other side of his prison. “What are you doing?”

Theta didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. For at that moment, a gas began seeping into the column surrounding the Doctor. Blue mist blurred his vision, seeped into his eyes and nostrils until it was all he could see and smell and taste. And the gas continued to hiss around him, filling the container as all gasses fill the container they’re in.

The Doctor choked on a particularly strong huff of the stuff, and then coughed into his sleeve. He tried to hide his face from the stuff, as his senses became more and more overwhelmed. But there was little his sleeve could do to help him. Within a few moments, his vision began blurring. His knees weakened, and then collapsed, bringing the rest of his body down with them. He found himself clawing at the walls of his prison, resting back on his heels as he looked up at Theta through the smoke and tried to make eye contact. But all he saw was a blur, hidden mostly by the blue smoke.

Not long after, all he saw was black.

The smoke dissipated as soon as the Doctor was rendered unconscious, seeping through the vents in the floor of the TARDIS. When it was cleared, the column was raised. Theta looked down on the Doctor with a tilt of the head and a vaguely pitiful smile on his face.

“I really don’t share your taste in fashion,” he said, regarding the Doctor’s brilliant blue velvet coat. “But I suppose it’ll do.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Two

“Doctor, where on Earth have you been?”

The Brigadier raised an angered brow and set his hands on his hips. It was a rather humorous image, to see the man so vexed as the others in the meeting room quietly murmured their goodbyes and made their escapes. Liz caught Theta’s eye as she passed by, sighing dramatically with a shake of the head. Theta shrugged with an innocent smile, and then turned back to the Brigadier.

He found the man five inches from his face and staring him down with an intense look in his eyes.

“When I call a meeting,” he lectured, “I expect you to be here. On time. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” Theta nodded.

The Brigadier held his gaze for a moment longer before stepping back. He released a breath and folded his hands behind his back.

“I don’t mean to be hard on you, Doctor. Only…there are rules to be followed. Protocols. I don’t just make this stuff up on the spot.”

“I understand, Brigadier.”

Theta nodded in earnest, which the Brigadier seemed to find rather strange. He tilted his head with widened eyes.

“You…do?”

“Yes,” said Theta. He patted the Brigadier on the arm with a frown. “I’m sorry, Brigadier. Won’t happen again.”

“Right.” The Brigadier paused for a long moment, staring Theta up and down like he was studying him. When he’d decided that he was not, in fact, daydreaming, he nodded and straightened his spine. “Well then, I’ll let you get back to your work. The meeting notes will be posted by the end of the day - you can catch up when you have time.”

“Will do. Oh, and Brigadier?”

“Yes Doctor?”

“I was wondering if I could use some extra power tonight? Only, I have a rather complicated project I’m working on.”

The Brigadier thought this over for a moment, but ultimately nodded his approval.

“Oh, alright, Doctor. Just make sure not to overload the systems. We’ll be running through some drills this afternoon, but everyone should be finished with the technical equipment by six O’clock.”

“Excellent.”

“Might I ask what you’re working on?”

“Well, it’s rather complicated,” Theta ran his finger along his upper lip. “Let’s call it…an experiment in neuro-circuitry.”

“Brainwaves? That sort of thing?”

“Yes, in a way.”

“Well,” the Brigadier bounced on his heels, shaking his head. He gave Theta a soft smile. “Just make sure not to damage that big brain of yours. We rather depend on it.”

Theta’s lips turned into a frown, which he quickly covered with a quirk of his lips and a raising of the eyebrows.

“I will try.”

. . . . .

“Oh, Doctor, Doctor, Doctor,” Theta tisked, stepping into the threshold of his TARDIS with a shake of the head. His boots clicked against the metal grating with a satisfying sound, echoing through the open space to create a sort of melody. “You’ve really gotten yourself involved here, haven’t you?”

“W-what?” The Doctor, finally awakening on the floor with furrowed brows and a deep set frown, looked up at his counterpart. “What did you do to me?”

“Just a sleeping drug. You’ll be right as rain soon enough.” Theta knelt beside the Doctor, bracing his elbow on his knee. The frown returned to his face as he continued to stare at the man he’d dressed in his own red robes. “How much do they know?”

“Who?” The Doctor rubbed his temples, shutting his eyes tightly as he winced.

“UNIT. The Brigadier. Liz Shaw. How much do they know about you? About us? About the world outside their tiny little planet?”

The Doctor forced his eyes open wider, through the glare of the TARDIS’s harsh lighting.

“They know what they’ve experienced themselves. They aren’t stupid, you know. I can’t exactly keep them in the dark.”

“But don’t you see, Doctor?” Theta growled, leaning forward until he was within breathing distance of the Doctor. “They shouldn’t know anything. They shouldn’t have had experiences to learn from.”

The Doctor shook his head.

“I’m not following you.”

“This - this - is why I’m here.” Theta pushed himself up to his feet. “It’s worse than I thought. You’ve gone and made yourself an essential part of their alien investigation team.”

“What does it matter to you?” The Doctor sat up, holding himself up by two weary arms. “I don’t even know who you are.”

“Can’t you see?” Theta spun round and approached the Doctor again. “I am you. The ‘you’ from a different time - a different place. You could call it an alternate universe.”

“Oh,” gasped the Doctor. “Oh, I see.”

“Yes,” Theta nodded along. “I’ve gone down that road myself: making friends with the locals, waging wars, trying to make the universe exactly how I wanted it…Now I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Ah,” the Doctor’s lips turned in the beginning of a smile, “Now I’m starting to understand. You’ve rejoined the Time Lords, am I right? Became their perfect little spokesman.”

Theta’s head whipped down to the Doctor, eyes raging.

“Beware, Doctor. The life you’re choosing right now only leads to heartbreak.” He shook his head. “I can only hope you’ll decide to listen to reason: end this, now, before more people get hurt.”

“You mean before you hurt them?”

Theta drew back, clenching his jaw. He looked the Doctor up and down with a curiously cold eye.

“If you force me to…”

“Now hold on!” The Doctor jumped to his feet. He threatened Theta with only a pointer finger and a bold glare, but it was enough to send the Time Lord back a few more paces. “One minute you’re going on about pacifism, the next you’re making threats.”

“Your life has created ripples, Doctor,” Theta said, holding his head up high and eyeing the Doctor like he was a misbehaving child due for a lecture. “Tidal waves of history that were never meant to exist. Take UNIT for example. It was formed as a direct response to conflicts you were involved in. Conflicts that may not have happened if you hadn’t made yourself the ultimate foil for the Cybermen, the Daleks, and countless other races.” Theta tilted his head. “Do you see what I’m talking about? The Brigadier, Liz, Sergeant Benton, everyone here would be living totally different lives if it weren’t for you.”

The Doctor clicked his tongue with a shake of the head. “I think you’re overestimating my importance just a little bit.”

“Are you so sure about that?” Theta asked, pausing afterward to let an uncomfortable silence hang in the air between them. “How many wars have been won because of your interference? How many children were born as a result? How many others weren’t born as a result?”

“Alright! I get your point.” The Doctor put up a stopping hand. He sighed, setting his hands on his hips. “So you want me to, what, exactly? Renounce my life as a vagabond? Rejoin Time Lord society and watch the universe pass me by, like a good boy?”

Theta clenched his jaw, the fire in his eyes intensifying.

“One day,” he said, taking his time with each word to be sure that the Doctor heard and understood him, “You will see that I was right.”

“You? Or the Time Lords?” The Doctor smirked with a shake of the head. “They put those words in your mouth, didn’t they? Yes, I can hear old Borusa’s words, clear as day. ‘Keep a distance, Theta’. ‘Observe, but don’t engage’. ‘Don’t speak to the lesser species’.”

Theta’s frown dug deep lines into his face. He slowly shook his head again. For a moment, his disappointed expression mirrored one of the Doctor’s old teachers from the Academy.

“I will set things right,” said Theta, then smacked a control on the console. The Doctor’s invisible column of a prison descended once more, so suddenly that he could barely lift a hand in protest before he was sealed inside. “With or without you.”

“‘Right’, Theta?” The Doctor called through the glass. “Is the Time Lord philosophy really what is ‘right’?”

“Yes,” Theta said matter-of-factly. “And if you don’t believe me now…you will.”

With that, Theta spun on his heel and started for the doors. The Doctor grit his teeth in a silent growl.

“Well I hope you plan on waiting a very long time!” he shouted at the retreating figure wearing his clothes, speaking with his voice, entering his world. “Because I-”

When the TARDIS doors slammed shut, the Doctor let his voice and his empty threats falter in his throat. In truth, Theta’s words rattled him. Not because he believed them: the Time Lords had shown their true colors when they forced him to regenerate and abandoned him all those weeks ago. But he was concerned about what Theta’s plans were. Would he descend to hurting people? Killing? It was very possible. And all to prove a point; that he and the Time Lords were right and the Doctor’s wayward life was wrong.

No. There had to be more to it than that. The Doctor would figure that out. He would save his friends and his universe from whatever mischief-disguised-as-justice Theta had planned.

But first, he had to figure out how to escape this cell.

He smiled.

He was quite good at escaping cells.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three

“Doctor, I’m going home now,” Liz Shaw said, gathering her purse and coat from the stand near the door. When he failed to respond, she looked up and frowned. “Still tinkering with that old TARDIS?”

“Hm?” Theta glanced up. “Oh. Yes, I suppose I am.”

“The Brigadier said you were working on something involving brain waves.”

“Exactly.” Theta paused for a moment, and then set down the tool he was using. He looked up from the TARDIS console with an innocent expression. “Haven’t I told you? TARDISes work using a Time Lord’s brain pattern. A Time Lord communicates with their TARDIS telepathically, and they work together to set coordinates correctly.”

“So you’re still trying to escape?”

“It can hardly be called ‘escaping’ when one is returning to their home.”

Liz folded her coat over her arms.

“I’d be rather reluctant to return home after what they did to you. In my opinion, you’re better off without the Time Lords.”

Theta’s face fell, brows drawing closely together.

“Liz,” he said in an earnest, saddened tone, “they’re my people. Good people, at that. Even if their punishments are a little harsh.”

Liz stared at him intensely for a long moment. Her lips pursed somewhat, and her eyes squinted just enough that Theta could notice it from where he stood.

“I’ve never heard you speak so highly of them before,” she said quietly.

“Well,” Theta said, adjusting how he was leaned on the TARDIS console, “maybe I’m just going soft in my old age.”

“Maybe,” Liz said. She paused, as if wanting to say more. But ultimately, she decided not to. She bid him goodbye once more, and then went out the door, shutting it behind herself.

When he was sure she’d gone, Theta let himself frown.

“He’s told them about the Time Lords,” he muttered through gritted teeth. His fist hit the console so hard that it sparked in one or two places. “This has to end. Now.”

The Doctor had tried everything to get out of his cell: telepathy, MacGyver-type inventions involving the force field and bits of his tunic, banging his hand against the blasted invisible wall. But two hours of work led to sitting on the floor in defeat, scratching a hand through his wild hair. It was no use when your captor was, well, you. Theta had thought of everything that would keep the Doctor from getting out.

Everything except…

“Liz?!” The Doctor jumped to his feet at the sight of the woman entering the TARDIS with wide eyes full of confusion.

She froze at the sight of him, and threw a questioning glance out the door.

“I’ve just seen you in the laboratory,” she said. “How…and what-? The TARDIS was there as well. How did it…Doctor?”

“Listen, Liz; I don’t know how much time we have. I need you to trust me.” The Doctor locked his eyes onto hers. “There is a man who looks like me wandering around UNIT HQ. He’s my counterpart from an alternate universe.”

Her eyes widened even more than before, but she continued to listen to him.

“I need you to help me escape this cell he’s put me into.”

“How?”

He paused for a moment, staring at her in wonder. She really did trust him. With her life and possibly the lives of everyone she cared about at UNIT HQ. What a wonderful thing, to be trusted.

“There’s a button on the console over there.”

“So this is his? I found it in a field by the maintenance tool shed and thought it was a piece of junk.”

“Yes, this is his TARDIS.”

“Well he’s making rather a mess of yours, then.”

“What?”

“Nevermind.” She shook her head and went to the console without delay. But when she set her hands on the proper button, she paused. Looked up at him with a frown. “I really do hope you aren’t lying to me.”

“I’d be too afraid to lie to you, Liz.” He flashed a small smile toward her, his eyes glistening.

Liz took a breath, and then she pressed the button.

There was a short moment of tension, in which the clear wall between them slowly lifted back up into the ceiling. The Doctor stayed still until it was above his head, then took a single step forward. He raised his hands innocently in front of him, and locked his eyes on Liz’s.

“I swear to you, I’m me.”

“I…I know, Doctor,” she said, but didn’t take a step toward him. “It’s just so hard to tell. Whoever this double of yours is, he really had me going.”

“Had?”

Liz shrugged, and neared the Doctor without much hesitation. “He started going on about the Time Lords like they were his heroes.”

The Doctor’s lips quirked toward a frown.

“Yes, I expect he did. He seems to think like them, too.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” he started toward the door, “that we’d better put a stop to whatever he’s planning.”

At the end of a long day at UNIT HQ, things always reached a point of relative calm. Soldiers returned to their barracks or family homes. Goodbyes were said and coats were grabbed. Cars rolled across the pavement, either toward the guarded entrance where occupants would show yet another pass to leave the premises, or else into the garage for the night.

Liz had seen HQ at this hour many, many times. She rather enjoyed the evening atmosphere: the lights fading to partial power, quiet overtaking the shouts and scoldings of daytime drills, the tired eyes and kind smiles of people who could finally convince themselves to rest after a long and rewarding day.

Tonight, though, things felt different. As she and the Doctor (or, who she very much hoped was the Doctor), tracked through the courtyard, the distant sounds of goodbyes and peeling car tyres did not bring peace to her frazzled nerves. Every voice was owned by someone who had no idea there were two Doctors around. And who knew? Maybe there were more doubles out there: another her, perhaps? Another Brigadier?

“Everything alright, Liz?” asked the Doctor, quietly enough that only she and the magnolia they were passing under could hear.

She nodded, though her mind was still troubled.

“I’m only wondering if we should tell some of the security team. They could help us if things go wrong.”

“That might not be such a bad idea, you know,” said the Doctor. He paused in his step and his speech, turning to her with a frown she could easily see in the waning light. “But keep it well under wraps. Get Benton, maybe Yates. They can be trusted with a secret. Tell them to be ready to get into the laboratory, if worst comes to worst.”

Liz nodded along to his directions, but then set a sudden hand on his arm. It was strange to feel the Time Lord cloak rather than the usual velvet.

“What if they’ve already returned to barracks?”

“Then meet me back in the laboratory. But be careful, Liz.” His frown deepened. “This ‘Theta’ chap seems to know a great deal about us.”

“You be careful as well, Doctor.”

His lips flickered into a smile.

“I always am, Liz.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Four

“You know,” the Doctor leaned against the laboratory doorway with one hand on his hip, “I never knew how dashing I looked working on that console.”

“You!” Theta raised his head and his eyebrows. His lips turned into a sharp frown. “How did you manage to escape?”

“Let’s just say…I get by with a little help from my friends.” The Doctor grinned and stepped into the room. With a sigh, he set his hands in his pockets. “Oh that’s right. You don’t have the Beatles in your universe, do you? You’re so determined not to make an impact on history.”

“There are more important things than introducing a couple of musicians.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Theta clenched his teeth and shook his head, rather like an angered lion trying to keep itself from pouncing. He spun back to the TARDIS console and continued his tinkering.

“You just won’t understand,” he murmured. “I’m doing this to help you. To help your friends. Your precious Earth.”

“My ‘precious Earth’ doesn’t need your meddling.”

“Meddling!” Theta scoffed and shook his head with incredulity. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to prevent. You have no idea the harm you inflict. That you will inflict, if you continue on the way you are. That’s precisely why I’m here.”

“I accept the consequences of my actions,” the Doctor said confidently. “Past and future. And I accept my world as it is now, flaws and all.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying. I’m trying to save you!”

“Save me from what?”

“From having your hearts broken!”

Silence overtook the lab. Both men were frozen - the whole room was frozen into a stillness that was only intensified by the dark quiet outside and in the corridors. The Doctor felt himself soften, relaxing his shoulders and his eyebrows until he looked at Theta with nothing but pity. He suddenly saw nothing but sorrow in those blue eyes that were so like his.

“Theta,” he said quietly, taking a step nearer the man to shorten the distance between them. “I want to help you, if I can.”

“Then let me save your world,” Theta said, hands resting on the console even as he breathed heavily through difficult emotions.

The Doctor shook his head sadly.

“I can’t let you do that. Whatever you’re planning…it won’t bring back whoever you lost.”

Theta stared for a long moment. His shoulders lifted, fell, with such an intensity that anyone watching would’ve thought he needed medical attention. But then his head lifted suddenly. His brows drew together.

His hand balled into a fist.

The Doctor raised his hands in a peace offering. He took another tentative step forward, then another.

“Doctor,” he said.

Theta’s head whipped toward him.

“Do not call me that. I am not a Doctor. I am not the Doctor.” He raised his chin, rolling his shoulders back until they sat confident and still. “I am Theta. And I am a Time Lord.”

The Brigadier snatched his car keys from their designated hook by the door and folded his uniform jacket over his arm. He sometimes felt rather naked without it; his button down shirt just didn’t give the same layer of protection and confidence that the jacket did. But it was late and he was hot in this stuffy old building, and there was no one left at HQ to impress.

So the Brigadier gave his office one last look-around, nodded at the usual tidiness, and went to the hallway. He tossed his keyring in the air once or twice, since no one was watching, and smiled at the satisfying jingle it made as he caught it. His shoes clicked against the freshly mopped tile floors. And for a moment, the Brigadier could almost imagine his father actually being proud of him for what he’d accomplished. For what a life he’d created for himself.

He went down the steps and took an unnecessary left. Sure enough, he found the laboratory light on, shining into the corridor. The Brigadier shook his head with a smile.

“You know, Doctor,” he said, turning the doorknob. “I thought only I had difficulty knowing when to call it…quits.”

His jaw dropped at the scene in front of him.

The Doctor stood by the TARDIS console, as expected. Unexpectedly, he was wearing a reddish cloak, rather than his usual outlandish fashion.

Also unexpectedly, a man lay on the floor beneath him.

A man that looked shockingly like…the Doctor? The same Doctor, though; not yet another regeneration. And the man on the floor was wearing the Doctor’s usual clothes: the blue velvet suit jacket and all.

“Doctor,” breathed the Brigadier, staring at the man laid on the floor.

“Don’t worry, Brigadier,” said the man in the cloak. The…Doctor? Perhaps? “He’s a version of me. He slipped into our timezone, rather upset about a few things. I’m fixing the TARDIS to send him home now.”

“But…?” The Brigadier looked from one ‘Doctor’ to another. They had the same face. Same build. Same everything, except clothes. He turned to the conscious Doctor and looked him up and down. “Why are you in that ridiculous getup?”

“Our friend here wanted to cause a bit of confusion,” the man sighed. “Dressed me up in his clothes and took my own. I believe he may have spoken to you earlier.”

The Brigadier furrowed his brow. There were more than a few security concerns on his mind. A clone, who looked exactly like UNIT’s chief scientific advisor? He could’ve gotten into so many secret files, so many databases, so many offices at HQ and elsewhere.

But the Brigadier swallowed these fears. It seemed that the matter was all cleared up now. And if the imposter had requested access to any top secret places, the Brigadier would’ve been the first to know about it. Not even the Doctor had unrestricted access. Maybe this stranger only wanted to attack the Doctor himself.

“Well,” sighed the Brigadier, trying to bury his worries deep in his mind. “It seems you’ve had an eventful evening. I’m sorry our security seemed to fail you.”

“Water under the bridge, Brigadier.”

“Even still-” The Brigadier paused in his speech and peeked into the hallway. “Ah, Miss Shaw. A word of warning: we have a bit of a situation here you may find strange.”

Liz’s eyes gazed at him with an unreadable expression. She shoved it down quickly and stepped into the threshold of the laboratory. Her eye immediately went to the standing Doctor, wearing the red robes.

She breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Doctor, I thought you said you were going to be careful.”

The Doctor’s brows drew together for a second, and then raised back to their normal position.

“Ah,” he scratched his chin as he looked down at his counterpart, still unconscious on the floor. “Yes, he forced me to use a bit of martial art I picked up on Venus.”

The Brigadier nodded with a frown.

“That Venusian aikido again? You know, Doctor, we should start teaching that to the men. It could come in useful when our weapons are useless.” He smiled softly. “Which seems to be a fairly common occurrence.”

The Doctor nodded along. But his eyes and his focus were back on the TARDIS. He hit a few switches and turned a dial. Leaned against it, he seemed so in his element that the other two merely watched in admiration for a moment. Like watching Leonardo painting, or a footballer kicking goals into a well-guarded net. The Doctor’s rightful place, his rightful job, seemed to lie in tinkering with this old TARDIS console.

“Doctor,” Liz stepped forward, closer to the Doctor and his prized machine. “What are you working on?”

“I’m trying to find a way to send him back to his own time. His own universe.”

The Brigadier lifted his chin and set his hands behind his back.

“Is that safe? You - or your counterpart, perhaps - have been tinkering with that thing all day. Something about neural-circuits?”

The Doctor frowned sharply, his hands pausing above the controls.

“That is a good point, Brigadier. He’s rather messed a few of the controls.” He raised a smile to each of his companions. “But I think I can manage to bypass the damage.”

Liz stepped ever nearer and leaned on the console as if she were born to be there; born to work on the TARDIS at the Doctor’s side. Born to learn the secrets of the Time Lords along with all the other secrets of the universe. The Doctor gave her a sharp, severe frown, which quickly softened before she could notice.

“Do be careful, Liz. Any one of these controls could cause mayhem if they aren’t handled properly.”

“Sorry, Doctor.”

She stood upright and backed a step away from the console. Her shoe touched the other Doctor’s arm, splayed out on the floor as it was. She jumped away before she could step on him. But already he was starting to wake. His head shifted, then his legs. He murmured something unintelligible under his breath.

As soon as he saw the movement in his counterpart’s body, the Doctor leaped back into action. His hands danced among the controls, knowing where to go without hesitation or need for pause.

“He’s starting to wake,” he said, rather unnecessarily. “We have to get him back where he belongs.”

“Brigadier,” the Doctor on the floor muttered. His eyes flickered open as he turned onto his side. “Liz. He’s not me.”

“What?” Liz furrowed her brows, turning from one Doctor to another. She stepped away from both of them, suddenly unsure of herself.

The man at the console continued pressing buttons, dialing controls, moving around the machine as if he were born to work with it.

“He’s trying to trick you,” he said, typing something into the computer at rapid speed. “You mustn’t let him get into your head.”

“Even so,” the Brigadier glanced from one Doctor to another. “I think we should wait until we’re absolutely sure, before doing anything rash. He could even be fooling you, Doctor. He was doing something involving brainwaves. There could be more going on here than we know.”

The Doctor at the console frowned.

“I think the safest thing is to put everyone back into their own rightful timezone. That’ll sort this whole mess out.”

“Doctor,” the Brigadier straightened his spine. His voice was steady and sure; the tone that turned Privates into Sergeants and turned fearsome enemies into scared bunny rabbits. “Step away from the controls.”

“Brigadier-”

“Do it now.”

When the Doctor at the console turned round, it was to find the Brigadier.

The Brigadier and his pistol, aimed right between the Doctor’s hearts. The hand that held the weapon was as steady as the voice that had commanded.

“Brigadier,” breathed the Doctor. He turned a sad frown toward his friend and met his eyes. “Are you going to shoot me?”

Chapter Text

Chapter Five

“Step away, or I’ll be forced to use this,” he said.

Liz caught the slight tremor in his voice, which he did his best to hide. It softened his voice throughout the threat, until the final words trailed into a whisper. She frowned severely at the back of his head, eyes widening in sympathy for both him and the Doctor.

“Brigadier,” the Doctor on the floor said suddenly. He pushed himself up until he was crouched, eyes closed as he slowly regained composure. “Don’t do anything rash.”

The Brigadier turned his eyes to him, but kept his gun trained on the one standing.

“If you really are the Doctor, you know I never do anything rash.” He turned back to the Doctor near the console. “And if you are really the Doctor, you’ll know that I’ll do anything to protect this planet.”

“Yes,” the Doctor frowned sharply and rubbed at his chin. “I really believe you would. Which is why…oh, blast.” He stepped away from the console with a suddenly intense eye. “I don’t care about this game anymore.” He sighed heavily. “I’m not the Doctor. My name is Theta. But there are more important things than that.”

“Oh?” The Brigadier gripped his pistol tighter, more confidently. “An intruder in my base, attacking and impersonating my scientific advisor…do you really think anything is more important to me right now?”

“The whole universe is at stake here, Brigadier!” He took another step forward, until the Brigadier’s raised pistol gave him pause. He glared at the weapon for a long moment, then frowned at the man who held it. “I’m trying to protect you. All of you. Please, let me.”

“Protect us from what?”

“From me,” Theta said. “From my foolish meddling.”

The Brigadier swallowed hard, then shook his head.

“Give me one reason to believe you.”

“Because,” Theta smiled faintly, his eyes shining. “Because I care about you, old chap. In any universe. In every universe.”

The Brigadier raised his brows as he lowered his pistol. It fell to Theta’s stomach, his legs, down to the floor. Alistair opened his mouth to speak, but no words left his mouth. His eyes shined even more than Theta’s, stunned by the sound of the old nickname, ‘old chap’, coming out of Theta’s mouth. The sound of the Doctor telling him that he genuinely cared about him.

“In any universe,” repeated the Brigadier.

“Lethbridge-Stewart,” the Doctor said suddenly from the floor. He wiped at his face once more, and then looked up with more alert eyes. “You know, I really think we should be care-”

“Alistair!” cried Liz, pointing at Theta.

In his daze, the Brigadier was slow to catch Theta’s movements. By the time he caught up to things, the Timelord was standing on the other side of the console, hands over the controls. He raised the pistol again, but even he knew he wouldn’t fire. He couldn’t shoot a man who looked just like the Doctor. He couldn’t risk hitting the real Doctor, or putting Liz in harm’s way if Theta retaliated.

So the Brigadier glared from behind his pistol and watched Theta enter something into the controls, while the Doctor struggled to his feet.

“Hold still!” shouted the Brigadier. “That is an order.”

Theta looked up with none of the kindness he’d had a moment before. He was serious; cold. The way that a calculating profiteer is cold.

“I don’t take orders from you, Brigadier. I only answer to the Timelords.”

“What was all that business about caring? You said in every universe-”

“I do care, Brigadier.” Theta paused at the controls and looked up for a long moment with an impossibly sad look in his eye. “I care a great deal. That’s why I must do this.”

Liz stuttered forward to Alistair’s side.

“What? What are you doing?”

Theta’s frown intensified.

“I’m making sure you never become victims of him.” He pointed a sudden finger toward the Doctor. “Victims of the Doctor and the trouble he brings.”

“But you are the Doctor,” said the Brigadier.

Theta shook his head.

“No,” he said. “I’m not.”

“Answer me this,” Liz said, stepping forward. “How do you know it’ll all end so badly? What if you’re ‘protecting’ us from something that won’t happen?”

Theta’s lips curled into a sad smile.

“That’s the thing about the Doctor. It always ends badly. People always get hurt.”

The Brigadier scoffed.

“Isn’t that true of anyone, if you wait long enough?”

Theta threw him a glare, but it didn’t have enough malice to be a genuine threat. His hands were slow over the controls now, his focus engaged on Liz and the Brigadier. He didn’t even seem to notice the Doctor now standing at the controls on the opposite side of the console, tapping into the buttons at such a slow speed that one would have thought he was merely stroking the time machine’s controls.

“Brigadier. Liz,” Theta said earnestly. He leaned forward, setting both hands along the edge of the console with white knuckles. “I do care about you. Which is exactly why I can’t let this go on.”

Liz and Alistair shared a concerned look, then started forward. But before either of them could move more than a step, the Doctor, their Doctor, held his hand out to stop them.

“Don’t!” He called.

“But Doctor,” said the Brigadier.

He didn’t have time to finish whatever thought he’d started.

Because at that moment, Theta whacked his hand onto one of the controls.

The room spun around them all, a cacophony of noise and crackling electricity and flickering lights. Liz latched onto Alistair’s arm as she lost her balance, and he, in turn, grabbed her sleeve between his fingers to keep himself upright. The energy in the room rose and rose with the strange sounds coming from the TARDIS console, until it reached a fever pitch that threw both of the humans to the ground despite their best efforts to remain standing.

In the midst of the chaos stood the Doctor.

His hands kept him standing still as a rock beside the TARDIS console. He stared at Theta, watching him with an unreadable expression. The other Time Lord did not have his sense of calm; his easiness. No, Theta was clearly struggling. His brows were drawn together. His teeth were set in a grimace. And as the Doctor watched, Theta’s legs slowly dropped from underneath him, bringing him to his knees beside the console.

“What-?” Theta sputtered. “What did you do?”

The Doctor smiled sadly to himself, and gave Theta an unsatisfied smirk.

“I’ve reversed the polarity.”

Theta’s eyes widened in shock. Fear. For a moment, there was even a sign of a tear forming in the corner of is all-too-familiar blue eyes.

But soon enough, that moment ended. His eyes fluttered shut. His legs collapsed completely.

And Theta, unconscious, fell back onto the floor without another word.

Moments later, perhaps few, perhaps many, the Doctor stood alone in a quiet laboratory. Looking down, his ears rang with the beginnings of a headache and a feeling of faintness he wasn’t accustomed to. The ringing only grew when he found Liz and the Brigadier lying unconscious on the floor below him. Kneeling with a frown, the Doctor murmured an apology to them both.

“I’m sorry, Brigadier,” he said, picking up the man’s arm with both hands to check his pulse. “I’ll make sure neither of you suffered concussion because of this.”

Satisfied with the Brigadier’s steady pulse and breathing pattern, and allowing himself a gentle smile at the sight of the man’s softened expression as he slept, the Doctor went to Liz Shaw. His frown returned in earnest as he prodded the skin under her wrist. But he relaxed as her heart beat with the same steadiness as the Brigadier’s.

“And,” he said to her, “I’ll make sure he gives you a long overdue holiday this week.”

He smiled at both of his friends, happy that they seemed to be alright. They’d probably be awake in the next few minutes.

A few minutes in which he had to clean up the utter mess he’d helped to make.

A few minutes in which to find a suitable explanation.

A few minutes to deal with Theta.

Chapter Text

Chapter Six

The Doctor pulled Theta another few feet into the TARDIS and then him down on the cold, gray floor. It was strange, seeing one’s own image lying unconscious in front of oneself. Even stranger to be in another’s TARDIS, standing at controls that would never work - even if the Doctor hadn’t a block on his memory of time travel.

But the most prominent feeling in the Doctor’s chest was one of sorrow. Guilt. It panged through both of his hearts before settling somewhere in his throat, forming a lump he didn’t dare try to speak over.

Whether it had been in defense of his friends and their planet or not, he had wiped Theta’s memory. Sure it was Theta’s plan, just backfired onto himself. But it was the Doctor’s actions that made it backfire. He pulled the trigger. He caused the non consensual mind wipe. There was no telling how much memory Theta would lose - maybe a day, maybe a year. But the time didn’t matter. The amount of damage didn’t matter.

The Doctor knew from very personal experience that losing one’s memory was a fate nearly as bad as regeneration itself - perhaps, in some cases, worse. It wasn’t long ago that his own best friends - Jamie and Zoe - had lost their memories of him, thanks to the Timelords. Egotistical, selfish, short-sighted, cruel Timelords.

And now he was just the same.

He hit the TARDIS console with the side of his fist, so hard that sparks flew from one of the more sensitive controls. It hurt. Not enough, but it did hurt. He murmured a swear under his breath and cradled his injured hand with the other. Looking up at the time rotor, which wouldn’t move until Theta awoke and chose to move it, the Doctor felt a tear blink into his eye.

All this time, he’d been trying to make Theta see how wrong the Timelord mentality was. He’d assured him of the power of freedom and independence and the hazards of justifying terrible actions with heroic words.

But there was no more time to lament, to regret, to feel sorry for himself.

The Doctor snatched a sticky pad from one of the compartments he knew even his alternate self would keep them and drew a marker from his own pocket. He scribbled notes in a language common to them both; a code created by himself and a friend so important that he must exist in the alternate universe. In this script, the Doctor gave Theta instructions: Go home. Be the Doctor. Do what is right.

If only he could be sure that this was right. That gallivanting across the universe had a net positive impact. That he wasn’t only kidding himself.

Theta shifted in his sleep, drawing the Doctor’s attention immediately. He capped the marker and took up the notes he’d written. Dashing around as Theta continued to murmur and move his fingers and feet, the Doctor stuck the notes to various parts of the console. There was no doubt that Theta would see them - the Doctor could only hope that he would actually obey them.

Once everything was in its place, the Doctor hurried to the door. He let himself look back, just once, at his alternate self. He looked tired. Creases of sadness etched his face near his eyebrows and lips. The man had clearly lost someone important - probably a lot of someones. A few of them most certainly worked at UNIT.

The Doctor frowned severely, and then forced his eyes away. He turned and stepped out the door, pulling it closed behind him with a soft click.

Outside the TARDIS, he breathed in the open air and smelled the familiar, terribly sad smell of boots and gunpowder and metal.

UNIT HQ.

His home.

Back in the laboratory, the Doctor found Liz already sitting up holding her head. She frowned, holding her hand out in front of her as if counting her fingers. When she heard the Doctor step into the room, her frown deepened, eyes drifting to the still-unconscious Alistair beside her.

“What happened?” she asked.

The Doctor smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you both later.” He reached down and took her hand gently into his own, helping her stand. “Are you alright?”

“I think so.” She rubbed her temples for another moment with creased eyebrows.

“What do you last remember?”

Liz gave him a strange look.

“You were tinkering with that wretched TARDIS again. I told you we needed to get to the Brigadier’s meeting.” She looked down at the sleeping man and sighed. “He probably came looking for us and got hit with…whatever you did. He’ll be furious when he wakes up.”

The Doctor scratched the back of his neck.

“I’m afraid it’s been a bit longer than that, Liz.”

Her eyes widened in genuine fright for a moment before she tamped it down. The Doctor offered a consoling smile.

“As I said, it’s a long story.”

Before he could start his long story, the Brigadier finally shifted in his sleep. He murmured something containing the words ‘Doctor’ and ‘impossible’, and then blinked his eyes open. When he found his friends staring down at him, he immediately tried to sit up quickly.

The Doctor knelt down and set a hand against his chest.

“Slowly, Brigadier,” he said. “You’ve probably got a whopper of a headache.”

“You’re telling me,” said the Brigadier, setting both hands against his forehead.

He sat still for a moment, breathing in and out through the pain, and then tried getting up again. This time, he moved more slowly.

“Why the devil am I on the floor?” When he looked up and found Liz watching him with a sweet smile, he blushed. “Apologies for my language, Miss Shaw.”

She offered him a hand up with a raised brow. She said, “You and I both know I’ve heard and said worse.”

Back on his feet, the Brigadier tilted his head with a wince.

“I can’t argue there.” He turned to the Doctor and set his hands on his hips. “Anyway, Doctor - are you going to explain why I find myself waking on your laboratory floor? Or is that another of your little mysteries?”

The Doctor’s face flushed. He locked eyes with Lethbridge-Stewart, then Liz. A million thoughts ran through his brilliant mind in the span of a second. But ultimately, he settled on the thought that put an ache in both of his hearts.

“In essence, Brigadier,” he said, “I got to look at myself from another perspective.” He ran a hand along his jaw. “And I’m not entirely sure I liked what I saw.”

“Oh, come now, Doctor,” smiled the Brigadier. “You aren’t a bad chap. You’ve saved my life more times than I can count.”

“And mine,” Liz agreed.

“Ah,” the Doctor’s eyes softened with a sad smile. “But how many times have I put you in danger? Perhaps UNIT wouldn’t have needed to be formed if it weren’t for me, drawing attention to Earth. My TARDIS is practically a beacon to extraterrestrial beings; and not all of them are friendly.”

The Brigadier folded his hands behind his back.

“Am I to understand that you regret helping us? What about all those human gangs you’ve helped us break up?”

“And the Silurians?” asked Liz. “They were on Earth to begin with. You didn’t bring them here.”

The Doctor’s expression lightened.

“I suppose I’ve done some good around here.”

The Brigadier sighed with a smile.

“You don’t have to be modest around us, Doctor. It really doesn’t suit you.”

Liz set a hand on the Doctor’s sleeve.

“You’re a good man, Doctor.” Her eyes met his. “Never forget that.”

“Alright, Liz,” he folded his hand over hers. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Right,” said the Brigadier, “if that’s all settled, I’d like to figure out the state of my HQ.”

“Oh, Brigadier,” the Doctor said with a grimace. “Let me know if any of the men seem a bit confused. I’m not sure what the extent of the amnesia is yet.”

The Brigadier raised a surprised brow, but exited without another word. Liz watched him go with a bright smile and laugh. But once he’d gone, she turned back to the Doctor with a more serious expression. She folded her arms across her chest and shifted her eyes away from his own.

“You will tell us what happened?” she asked. “When you’re ready?”

He gave her a warm smile in response.

“Of course,” he said softly.

She started toward the door, but spun back around before she’d reached it.

“And you won’t go messing with the TARDIS again while I’m gone, will you?”

The Doctor frowned severely.

“No,” he said earnestly. “Definitely not.”

When she was gone, the Doctor released a sigh and leaned back into one of the lab benches behind him. He stared at the TARDIS console. It shined in the middle of the room, whirring and making small noises only he could hear. It almost seemed to be speaking High Gallifreyan; the Timelord language summoning him, taunting him. He shook his head until there was silence again. Until his head had turned to face his laboratory equipment.

The Brigadier’s computer.

The vials he and Liz had prepped for their next experiment.

The chemicals safely stored away in the wall cabinet, ready for future endeavors and world-saving adventures.

The Doctor smiled. Maybe somewhere deep down, he still had doubts. Somewhere in his mind, a voice still mocked his attempts to save the universe; still questioned whether he did any good at all, really. A small part of him ached to be home. Back on Gallifrey.

But standing here, among his friends and the space they shared and the reminders of laughter and triumph in this room, at this base…it was difficult to believe he belonged anywhere else. Maybe this was his home. Maybe UNIT wasn’t some mistake of a timeline, but rather an integral piece of the puzzle that was this elegant universe.

And maybe, just maybe, life was meant to be lived, one day at a time; not analyzed until one’s very own mind started questioning what past and future were meant to be.

With a proud, beaming, heartwarming smile, the Doctor followed Alistair and Liz’s footsteps. He walked right past the TARDIS console, to the laboratory doors. And, just for a moment, he allowed himself to only worry about this one moment.

This one time.

This one place.