The Shortest Life
by ErtheChilde

"I was there! I fought in the war! It wasn't my fault – I couldn't save your world! I couldn't save any of them!"

Summary: Seeking redemption and respite from his deeds during the War, a hopeless Doctor accepts a final task as Time's Champion. With a new companion in the form of young Rose Tyler, the Doctor finds himself uncovering a secret that could save the universe…or destroy it.

Disclaimer: This story utilizes characters, situations and premises that are copyright the BBC. No infringement on their respective copyrights is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan oriented story is written solely for the author's own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All fiction, plot and Original Characters with the exception of those introduced in the books and graphic novels, are the sole creation of ErtheChilde and using them without permission is considered rude, in bad-taste and will reflect seriously on your credibility as a writer. There may or may not be a curse in your future as well, so be warned. Remembered all things come in threes, good and bad. Plagiarizing is considered bad.

Warning:

Spoilers : If it existed in any form of Doctor Who canon, whether television, novelization or graphic novel, it's probably going to be mentioned in here. That includes up to and including 12th/13th/Whatever Doctor Adventures. So if you don't like being spoiled, maybe save this fic for after you've gone through the series, yeah?

No Beta : I am beta-less at the mo', so any mistakes are my own. I edit as I go, though, so it shouldn't be too bad.

Canadian-Writing-British: As a Canadian, I'm not all-knowing when it comes to British idioms, sayings or slang. I write what sounds right to my ears and when it doubt, I look things up on the Internet, so I might not always get it right. If I'm way off about something, please drop me a line and I'll correct it.

Chapter Canon-Compliance:

Set between the events of Day of the Doctor and Rose.

PROLOGUE

The first breath was as excruciating as it was a surprise.

Hauled out of the swirling, pitch black darkness of his mind, he felt as though he was choking on solidified carbon dioxide. Heavy smoke lingered in the air, swamping his windpipe and lungs in a way that made every inhalation feel as though it was slicing him open from the inside. He could taste blood on his tongue, little more than an aftertaste but like the inner recesses of his mouth, sandpaper dry.

He was trapped, somewhere between sleeping and waking, and still mired in the persistent delirium of regeneration sickness. This last renewal had been brought about when his weary cells finally crumbled from exhaustion. Even if he had wanted to slip into a healing coma for the rest of it, he wouldn't have been able to summon the energy.

He could smell something like burning flesh, but couldn't identify the source and his eyelids remained weighed down by the phantom ache that suffused his entire body.

He groaned, the vibration of the action sending an excruciating tremor through his damaged oesophagus.

For several seconds, he wondered if his hearing had been damaged somehow: there was an inexplicably vast, echoing quiet enclosing him, transforming the darkness of his mind into a more sinister shadow.

It was only when he realized that he could still hear the various creaks and whirs of his ship that he understood the terrible truth.

He wasn't deaf. There was just no one left for him to hear.

As memories rushed back to him, he let out an agonized cry of comprehension and his ears heard the guttural sound of a wounded animal.

Gallifrey was gone, and the Time Lords with it.

He had killed his own people – wiped out a lush, thriving collection of minds and effectively destroyed their planet – with the push of a button.

He couldn't remember the specifics. The destructive action had been so violent he was surprised he was even still able to form coherent thought. His mind provided him with tarnished images, like grotesque snapshots, all centred on a silent, final flash like an exploding star. The rest of the memory was visceral – millions of minds falling silent, forever, in a blast that had reverberated through the universe and obliterated other planets, systems and galaxies.

He could feel the aftershocks rippling deep into the past and far into the future. His lonely mind heard the echo of countless paths to parallel worlds shutting off, imagined entire realities being cannibalized by Reapers who sought to sterilize the continuity gaps that resulted. History and actuality wavered, now free of those who had guided them for so long.

From now on, time would move in constant flux like threads flying in the wind.

His perceptions remained disordered, a consequence of the regeneration energy not having settled yet. Likely the senses that remained to him were trying to compensate for the sudden silence where his people had once been.

He didn't even attempt to access his Time Sense, knowing the pain of poking that mental abscess would be more unbearable than his physical wounds.

Flashes of reality and dreams flickered on the backs of his eyelids, jumbled together in a way that had no logic:

Images of his ship's control room, the coral struts now blackened and charred beyond recognition, juxtaposed with that of a pale, dark-haired woman in an old-fashioned dress. She sang to him with the voice of the TARDIS as in the background, orange sky bathed silver trees with light as they were incinerated. The singing turned to the laughter of children, and then to screams as a figure moved in the distance – and animal of some kind, canine features twisted into a wicked snarl. He imagined the floor of the control room, broken and covered with dirt, grime and blood, transforming into a field of roses, their pink and yellow hues a painful contradiction of peace to his war-torn psyche.

The disarray of these images was like a physical brand, and he cried out again in wordless agony.

The TARDIS tried to sooth him. His third heart crooned consolingly, calm and quiet, but even her melody was discordant and agonizingly laboured. Grief over her own loss bled through their connection, a dirge for the extinction of her own species mixing with physical pain.

Even worse than the confounding images was the return of memories. He watched them unfold over and over again, the horrifying deeds he had committed after renouncing his name.

Deep within, the parts of himself he had been forced to forsake for the good of the universe mourned. He saw the systems and planets and galaxies that he had been required to choose between as the forced arbitrator of Fate, deciding which would survive and which would rot as collateral damage. Some had survived for the simple, selfish reason that he had liked them better than others.

And still, one question echoed over and over in his mind.

Why?

He hadn't meant to survive any of this. One of the critical factors in his decision to end the Time War had been the knowledge that he wouldn't let himself live past the endeavour. After all, what kind of creature chose to be the last of its kind? More to the point, what kind of creature chose to live with blood of its own on its hands?

He had pushed the button, flipped the switch and effectively destroyed Daleks and Gallifreyans alike, then condemned them to an eternity trapped in a Time Lock for the sake of the cosmos. The decision had shattered him even before the action was carried out, and before the trauma of his regeneration had worn off, he had hurled himself into the nearest sun to make the pain stop. It should have been a quick route to the final death.

He just hadn't counted on the asteroid that got in the way.

He remembered the burning sensation, almost like atmospheric re-entry without a shield, and the wave of force that had thrown him clear across the console room. He recalled a coral strut punching through him, crushing both of his hearts and feeling relieved before the world went dark.

There was no possible way he should have survived and yet he had.

Why had the solace of death been kept from him?

'My sister will not yet receive you, my Champion,' a voice at once like swirling sand and dying leaves whispered to him. 'Death will be your gift another day.'

He was startled, but couldn't move to show it.

Once again he tried to open his eyes, but to no avail; on the periphery of his vision he pictured a faceless figure in a robe of shifting grey silk.

Time, he thought, unable to bring the words to his lips. He imagined something soft brushing against his face, a caress that brought with it little relief.

The Eternal whispered his true name – the name he had long since pretended to have forgotten – in soothing tones that mingled with the TARDIS' song in the background. 'My Lonely God…I am sorry for this burden that falls to you…'

It was you. You made sure I survived.

'Yes. And no.'

Why? I was ready to die. I was meant to die after using the Moment.

'No,' the Eternal told him, and the silence beyond his chaotic thoughts was momentarily broken by a memory.

'– Killing them all…Daleks and Time Lords alike…there will be consequences for you…if you do this, if you kill them all, then that's the consequence. You live –'

The words were a whisper of a damaged recollection, too indistinct to completely parse, but their message tore at him. They confirmed the suspicion he had had upon waking to find he had regenerated instead of died.

There was a pause as the TARDIS gave a keening wail of denial and reproach, and the image in his head of the snarling wolf became more focussed.

He couldn't think of any better punishment for what he had done, but the presence of the Eternal made him suspicious; none of the Menti Celesti were ever without some sort of agenda.

Why are you still here, then? He wondered. You've done what you came to do – I won't try to end myself again, if my lot is to wander with my sins. There's no reason for you to stick around.

'Can you feel it?' the Eternal whispered, ignoring the question. 'The aimlessness of the universe?'

Even as she spoke, he felt the shifting eddies of time, the endless dance of all there was and all there had been and all that ever could be. It seized upon him, insurmountable and crushing in a way he had never experienced before.

'With no on to safeguard it, its end threatens to become a fixed point.'

He could sense that moment, a timeline thwacking abruptly into place with the same discordant quality of a harp string being played out of tune. It was one he dimly recognized.

Event Two…there was no definite time before…

'Without the Time Lords, this reality hurtles toward destruction that much quicker. And so I reached out and set events in motion, to save one.'

One, he repeated to himself, stunned at first and then angry when his broken mind realized she was speaking of him. One?! What good will that do? That is about as useful as an ant against a tidal wave!

'It was the only measure I could take,' Time answered, sounding apologetic for an entity that lacked the ability to produce true emotional inflection. 'If my interference was discovered, those truly responsible for your War would hasten the universe's end all the quicker.'

Truly responsible? There's no question about who was responsible!

'The Time War was something far beyond the reach of this reality. You did what you had to in order to save it, because you knew that the victory of either side would herald the end of everything. You knew what the Daleks intended, you knew what the Council was planning, and so you chose to act as you did. But do you know why?'

Speaking in riddles is usually my job.

'Do you know where the High President came by the idea?'

I would imagine it was something he figured out in his abundant spare time.

'The plan was not of Ephemeral origin. It came from beyond this plane, from something that sought to feed on the entropy resulting from the universe's demise.'

And what is this mysterious "something"?

'It exists outside of my domain, beyond this universe and this plane of existence. I fear any attempts on my part to discern its true nature would cause it to accelerate its plans of destruction.'

I imagine the words 'this is where you come in' are about to be flung my way.

'As an Ephemeral being, you would not register as a threat to them. Not like I would.'

You're an Eternal. What does one universe matter to you?

'My sisters and I were born in this universe your people called N-Space, not in Eternity as others of our kind. This is our home, which we have long protected from outside threats. I will not have it taken by interlopers.'

You of all beings should know that everything dies.

Again he felt a soft caress against his face. 'Yes, my Champion – everything dies. All things come to dust in the end, and that dust will one day be shaped into the foundations of something new. It is the never-ending cycle. But this realm will no longer have that opportunity if it is not protected.'

Anger rose up within him again and he channelled it directly at the infuriatingly calm Eternal.

Why should I even care? After what I've done…Out of everyone out there – paragons of virtue and knowledge, heroes among my people and other species – there were those better than me that you could have saved for this task!

'No, there wasn't. There was only you.'

That's a lie! You have all of existence at your disposal – you could pull them out of Time before I used the Moment! You could save –

'I could only save one,' Time retorted firmly. 'Any more would risk more damage to the timelines than has already been wrought. And I could only save you…because you are my Champion.'

He felt as though his throat had closed up at that. How many times was that dubious honour going to return to haunt him? To know that it meant he would go on living while others more deserving were consigned to death or an eternity locked in time?

Then I relinquish the title as I relinquished my name, he thought, the words a bare whisper in his mind. I will no longer be your Champion. I have done enough. Just…if I cannot die, let me at least let me wander without interference from you or the universe.

There was a long pause. He had the impression that Time was studying closely. In his fevered dream, he imagined the wind flitting through the field of roses and a mournful sigh from the figure beside him.

'If that is your decision,' she began, thoughtful, 'then perhaps you are right. Perhaps it is time for this universe to expire. Perhaps I have adopted the mortal peculiarity of selfishness.' He felt ice cold hands take his aching face between them. 'You have served me well, and if you truly wish for the final death, I will release you from the burden placed on you by the Moment. But there is a condition.'

Of course there is. Because just letting me die would be too easy.

'My poor Lonely God,' the Eternal whispered, contrite. 'If I could, I would release you from my service freely. But she chose you, and even a being as vast as myself is bound by something – and I am bound to her. As are you.'

"She"? One of your sisters?

'No. Both of my siblings hold a different kind of claim upon you than that of a Champion – they can only influence your future.'

If I have my way, I won't have a future.

'If you are so sure, then let me show you something. That is my condition.'

It was in his heart to decline, but the promise of being able to end it all if he fulfilled this one request was overwhelming.

Show me, then, if you must.

He felt feather soft touches at his temples and then his mind was deluged with images and emotions. They were mere flickers, never distinct or complete, but somehow they were all strong enough to push back the blackened thoughts of the War.

'Run!'

He was reaching out, grabbing hold of a small, soft hand, and was surprised at the strength with which it grasped him back.

'There's me,' a soft, sincere voice said.

He was surrounded by the musty smell of dust and decay, but despite tasting death on the air his hearts swelled with contentment.

'We'll go down fighting, yeah?' the same voice queried.

'Yeah.'

'Together?'

'Yeah.'

'I'm so glad I met you.'

'Me too.'

The fate of billions hung in the balance once more, and it came down to a choice between them and a single soul. A choice he had made over and over in the past, and would be doomed to repeat ad infinitum.

'If I don't dare, everyone dies.'

'Do it.'

'You don't even know what it is. You'd just let me?'

'Yeah.'

Concrete walls were moving in on him and the smell of his enemy's burning flesh filled the air.

'Feels like there's no one.'

'Well then, good thing I'm not going anywhere.'

A Reaper shrieked in the distance, and he felt the painful echo of countless timelines unravelling and reknitting.

'I wasn't really going to leave you on your own.'

'I know.'

'But between you and me, I haven't got a plan. No idea. No way out.'

'You'll think of something.'

Surrounded by darkness and swirling golden sparks, he felt the long-forgotten sense of overwhelming joy.

'Just this once, everybody lives!'

He could feel ashes still on his fingers as he worked, felt the overwhelming knowledge of being alone once more, yet he knew he could get through it because she would live. He had made sure of it.

'I want you safe, my Doctor.'

Lips brushed against his own, the action stolen and yet perfect all the same.

'I just want to tell you, you were fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. And do you know what?' Burning energy and song filling him up, and yet this time he welcomed it. 'So was I.'

Rippling golden light blinded him as he came back to himself and his hearts twisted within him. With every passing second the images he had seen became murkier, hiding them from his sight until only the emotions they had brought remained.

He felt tears dried on his face and he glared in the direction of the Eternal, still unable to see her face.

What was that? The lure of solace and understanding ebbed away. He felt angry, both at their disappearance and at the Eternal's audacity. Is all that supposed to be some kind of reward, some kind of enticement? I don't deserve that! I don't deserve anything!

The idea of being rewarded in any way for committing genocide made his stomach rebel against him and the bile rose in his throat.

'It is not a reward that I would show you, but the one who will offer you a chance.'

A chance at what?

'Redemption.'

His thoughts ground to a halt.

He knew deep in his hearts that there was no way to make up for the life he had led and the final atrocity he had carried out. There would never be a way to make up for those lives, even if the alternative would have been exponentially worse. Death was the only solution he could see to escape his sins, and yet…

That's not redemption, he mused, thinking on the lingering hint of tenderness even as the strange woman's voice faded from his memory. That's trading one type of pain for another.

'Not all is as it seems,' Time cautioned. 'I will not lie and say your hardships are past – along that particular path lies heartache and loss, grief and death and pain…but there will be forgiveness. She will offer you a chance to atone, and so much more.'

And when I inevitably have to choose between her and the universe?

Time did not reply, but her silence was more enigmatic than mystified.

His thoughts churned in a chaotic pool of uncertainty and doubt.

The pain of the regeneration and guilt for what he had done continued to eat away at him, the parts of himself that he had betrayed still called for his death. But deep in his core, to the very heart of himself, the part of him which was still afraid of death and still believed that forgiveness was possible before he ended his life for good endured.

And for once, just once, he wanted to be selfish.

His damaged mind and heart wanted to meet this person that could compel an Eternal.

What do I need to do?

'Protect the Valiant Child,' the Eternal whispered as the dream fading to nothing.

As he opened his eyes, Time had vanished, and with her the last of her cryptic directive.