EDIT::

February 22, 2010 - May Nicholas Courtney Rest in Peace.

This was so hard to right, mostly because I just lost the knack for it towards the end. You can literally see how bad it gets the fic progresses, but I wanted to finish this ASAP so I could get onto my Sherlock/DW fic.

Enjoy!

Former UNIT-Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart walked into his small office of his tiny flat. He hadn't heard any bustling in the kitchen, assuming that Doris was across the street's at Melinda's. Setting his umbrella down on one of the vacant chairs in his office, he approached his desk.

The swiveling chair sitting behind it swung around. A man passively locked eyes with the Brigadier.

The UNIT founder was not surprised at all.

"Hello again," the Brigadier greeted, taking in the complete change of face and clothes. The man –if one could even call him that- in front of him was younger, more handsome and wearing brown pinstripes. The sitting man gave a terse nod and the military man detected slightly swollen eyes, raw from crying, and a few remnants of dry tear tracks.

"You know me the best Brigadier."

The Brigadier laughed. "Just have a knack of guessing right."

"No, you do," responded the other man. "Know me better than anyone else, a military man, a soldier." Alistair frowned at the coldness of the response and the other man gained a dreamlike, wistful look in his eye. "Somewhere out there, in a different universe, there's a place where there's no me, no war –just peace- and everyone I've ever touched is living their perfect, happy lives." The man locked eyes with the Brigadier, daring him to contradict.

And that's exactly what the old man did. "But is for the better?"

The pinstriped man looked away and mumbled, "For some." Then he glanced back. "You're not asking about what happened yesterday."

"I assumed," began the Brigadier, "that you would bring up the subject if you were comfortable with it."

The younger-looking man gave a small, fleeting and sarcastic laugh. "Of course," he mouthed. "I thought I won," he explained bitterly. "I thought after that last one, it wasn't all in vain."

The Brigadier swallowed and took an inaudible breath. "If you don't mind me asking-"

"They're dead," the man interrupted. "Dead, gone, all of them. Daleks, Gallifrey Time Lords. Even the Master. Gone." The silent rebuke weighed in the air: except for me.

"And?"

The man regarded the UNIT founder with surprise and a real smile flickered across his face. "How did you know?"

"I've been around too many of you long enough," the Brigadier shrugged. "I've learned a few tricks."

"Rose, her name was Rose, and I've just left her on a parallel world."

"And you can't get back," he finished.

Pinstripes crinkled as the man gave a stiff nod. Then he let out a sigh and stood up, composing himself. "Still, better get going. Picked up a strange signal from a couple of weeks back."

"A hospital by any chance?" Alistair's eyes twinkled as the other man gave a laugh.

"It was nice seeing you again."

The Brigadier nodded. "Goodbye."

"Maybe," replied the man, slipping out the door.

The next time the Brigadier received an unexpected visit from his old friend and mentor was right after he'd gotten off the phone after a row with UNIT. "There's nothing he can do. It's not like I have his phone-" The Brigadier looked up and there he was. "-number. Goodbye."

He slammed the phone down instantly.

"Doctor," the military man smiled.

"Didn't have much time for formalities last time did we?" the Time Lord responded. He nodded at the phone. "Everything's… fine."

But of course the Brigadier noticed the catch in the Doctor's breath. "Rose?" he ventured.

The Doctor shook his head. "No, no no. She's fine. She's alright, alive." He pursed his lips together. "It was the Master. He's survived and now he's dead."

The Brigadier, who had witnessed many times the animosity between the two Time Lord peers, was rather surprised to hear the Doctor's tone of voice. Sure it was sorrowful –he'd just lost the second last of the his own species that he himself had destroyed- but what troubled the Brigadier the most was that the Doctor didn't seem just sad for that one reason.

"He was a friend," the Doctor said as if reading his friend mind, although that was a possibility. "Did I ever tell you that? Back when Gallifrey still stood, in the Academy. It was the two of us and a few others, the 'rebels' of the class. Always running, causing troubles, eager to mingle into the timelines for recreational purposes." The alien laughed. "Then we all changed. I left, Ushas left. The Master went mad, all the drums in his head." The Doctor closed his eyes and sank down in the living room chair. "I could have saved him," he whispered, "but he wouldn't regenerate. He wanted to win, revenge. And I lost."

"Do you have someone else?"

"Yeah, Martha. Brilliant girl she us. Doctor, you know? Needs to pass her exams first. Don't mind giving her recommendation to UNIT do you? Martha Jones, from the Doctor." Alistair nodded. "Brilliant!"

"Where is she now?"

"Gone," the Doctor answered immediately. "Home, her parents. Wandered the Earth for one whole year, spreading stories and hope. The Year that Never Was." The Doctor locked eyes with the UNIT founder. "10% of the population, dead. Civilization ruined. And Martha Jones was there, fighting. I ruined her life. That's what happened." He nodded at the phone. "A great big paradox reversed to the assassination of the President."

"My lips are sealed," the Brigadier agreed.

"See! You do know me well! Off I go then. Fancy a ride?"

The Brigadier shook his head. "I'm too old Doctor. One step in there and I'd never be able to leave."

Then the Brigadier had been carefully minding his own business, gardening in fact in the front lawn when he stopped to wipe the sweat off his brow. Just by chance, he happened to look up and see the familiar brown pinstripes against a blue down the street. A long overcoat billowed slightly in the breeze. The figure wore a grave expression and gave a stiff salute before retreating into the blue box.

The Brigadier returned the gesture and returned to the gardening. If he wants to talk it about it, he will, he thought.

Most recent was at a UNIT party gathering. The Brigadier had just been left by the current commander of the British UNIT branch when a young ginger girl accompanied by a dirty blonde young man came up to him, the girl brandishing a black leather wallet-like pouch. She flashed it and informed him that a certain "Colonel Mace" was looking for him.

"Colonel Mace has retired miss," the Brigadier politely replied. "Now as to the psychic paper in your hand…" The woman's jaw nearly fell off. "…I'd like to know your acquaintance with the Doctor."

At the same moment tweed and bowtie came into view as someone pushed through the young couple. "Brigadier!" the intruder grinned and was immediately met with a whack on his arm from the red-head beside him.

"Oi! Did you lie to me?" she drawled in her Scottish accent.

"What?" the tweed-wearing man asked. "No, you wanted to test the paper."

"But it didn't work!" she said through gritted teeth.

"Run along Ponds," came the sigh as the couple reluctantly vanished into the crowd.

"Doctor," smiled the Brigadier.

"Been a long time?" asked the Doctor.

"You tell me."

The Time Lord grimaced. "I'm always missing dates nowadays." He gave a sigh and motioned for the elderly man to join him in a corner of the room. "You're a good friend. Have I ever told you that?"

"It might have been hinted," Alistair joked.

"But you are," insisted the Doctor. "One of the best." This earned him a curious look from the UNIT man. "Last time, I was dying. Regenerating. Last one and I was ready to give it all up, so I looked back at everyone. Everyone single one of you. And I was so proud." The alien grinned. "And you, weeding your little garden, Doris across the street and you not really minding doing the work. It made me wonder if you were the same man I knew back in the old days. The fighter, the soldier."

"I still am."

"But you're better," the Doctor refuted. "Better than all the people in here and I'm honored to know you. No last trip?"

The Brigadier chuckled merrily. "I told you my answer Doctor."

The Doctor regarded him skeptically. Just trust this Time Lord to know more than he was asking on the surface "Please?" he asked.

The Brigadier only continued to smile. "Thank you for the offer." He was met with a playful salute to which he returned.

"Well timelines to meddle in, people to save. Things to do, places to see."

"You could never stay still."

"You know me Brigadier." The Doctor gave a wistful smile.

"Yes," the old man grinned. "Yes I do."

The Times – January 20, 2011.

The perpetrators behind the recent attack on a UNIT gathering have yet to be found. Investigation is underway and countries around the world are aiding in the efforts to track down this bomber. Notable attendees to this gathering, who are now hospitalized, are Colonel Mace, Colonel Oduya, General Eliot. Most notably –Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, one of the founders of UNIT. See section B11.

The Times – January 31, 2011.

May Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart rest in peace.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Stole RTD's line from SJA. Who cares? He should stop inflicting his nice little cameos at the end. It only works once and then afterwards… yeah. But the Brig is an exception. :]

And yes, he did end up dying. It was a hard decision and I know I'm going to face much flames and retaliation. I don't care what TARDIS wiki says about his death. It's not canon enough for me because it's not in the televised series.

Poorly written fic? Yes.

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