Chapter Nineteen

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Sophie gets back to her flat late that night, the sun dipping down beyond the horizon. Opening the door to the flat, she sees a note from Morgan on a sticky note by the door. Quickly scanning it, she reads that her flatmate had came back, but left to go out with a couple friends. Smiling, Sophie sets the sticky note down on the table by the door.

Walking farther into the flat, her eyes land on a very tattered blue box blocking her kitchen door. "Doctor?" she calls, quickly looking for any familiar face.

"Over here," a gravelly voice calls.

She twists, her eyes landing on a character looking just as rough as his box. "Here I was, thinking I knew every one of your faces. You must be the Warrior, eh?"

The War Doctor is sitting in one of the chairs in her sitting room, which is still full of boxes. Moving one aside, she takes the chair opposite him, noticing the two tea cups on the small table in front of them. "Looks like you were waiting for me."

"Maybe I was."

Sophie smiles, setting her bag down on the floor beside the chair. She crosses her legs, adjusting her position in the chair. "How can I help you, Doctor?"

"I'm not the Doctor. I don't deserve that title."

"Well, I ain't calling you Warrior, that's just weird. How about we meet in the middle. I'll call you the War Doctor."

He sighs, picking up the tea cup in front of himself, "If you must."

"Okay," she smiles, grabbing her own cup, "How can I help you, War Doctor?"

"I need advice, and you were the only person I could think of. You're still, who I consider to be, my best friend."

"I'm flattered."

"Now, my question, what happened to your neck?"

"Spoilers. You'll find out eventually. What kind of advice do you need?"

"Gallifrey."

Sophie almost chokes on her tea, "What about Gallifrey?"

"The war, it's gone too far. I know how to end it, the war. But have I the right?"

"What are your options?"

"The High Council is planning to destroy the universe, to save Gallifrey. I can save the universe, but only if I sacrifice Gallifrey."

"So your options are Gallifrey, or the universe. Those aren't great choices." She leans her elbow onto the armrest of the chair. "Which would you prefer? Gallifrey is your home, you lived there for over one hundred years of your life. It's where you were born, and it's where your family lives. Could you destroy that?"

"What's my other option, let the universe burn, because I hold an attachment to my home?"

"I don't think anyone could blame you. The other option is letting the whole universe suffer, and die. The very same universe you've given over 800 years of your life to protect. Where your friends live, spread out across it. The universe, with so much left unseen. Could you let the Gallifreyan High Council destroy all of that?"

"These are the same arguments I pose to myself. Why I came to you," he grumbles.

"Okay, just trying to wrap my head around your issues, calm down." She stands from her chair, beginning to pace across the floor. "So, you don't particularly have a good option. Your home, or the universe. That's a big choice."

"And I'd like your opinion on it," the old Gallifreyan grunts.

"Well, I can't make the decision for you, War Doctor. There's a clear choice, one that's clearly the lesser of the two evils. But could you do it. Faced with the choice, do you have the hearts to destroy all your people, men, women, children. Everything you've ever known, just to kill the Daleks, and save the rest of the universe with it?"

"It seems you've decided with what my hearts had already decided. To save the many, sometimes on must sacrifice the few." The Time Lord stands, setting his tea cup down onto the table once more. "Nothing more to it, I suppose."

He turns, starting for his TARDIS, "Hang on a sec, Doc-er War Doc. No, you know what, Doctor. Because you are, you know. You're the Doctor, during the time when it's impossible to be the Doctor."

The War Doctor shakes his head, "Sophia McCoy..."

"No, I'm not done yet. You don't have to do this alone, Doc. Let me help you shoulder this burden.

"I can't ask this of you."

"Good, cause you're not asking." She steps over toward him, taking his hand in hers, "I'm your friend, friends help each other. Let me shoulder half of this burden, for you. You don't have to be alone."

He closes his hand around hers, "I can't take you to your death."

"Well, sucks to be you, cause I'm coming whether you want me too, or not. Let's go."

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