Eleven aimed his sonic at the Moment, activating it with a determined expression. There was a brief pause where nothing happened, and then the button slowly withdrew into the casing, the box closing up over it. And just like that, the Moment was closed.
History had been changed.
Lyssa closed her eyes, shoulders sagging with the release of tension as the ever-present tugging disappeared. Beside her, the Ranger shifted, blowing out a long sigh of relief as the glowing woman across the room leaned back against her box, seeming a little more at ease.
Bad Wolf - Rose? - smiled proudly.
"There's still a billion, billion Daleks up there attacking," the War Doctor pointed out.
"Yeah, there is, there is," Eleven agreed nonchalantly as he turned back around to face the other two.
"But there's something those billion, billion Daleks don't know," Ten said slowly as he paced across the floor and turned to point at Eleven.
"'Cause if they did, they'd probably send for reinforcements," Eleven grinned proudly, pointing right back at him.
"What? What don't they know?" Clara asked, looking between the two of them with wide, hopeful eyes.
Eleven turned to look at her, eyes lit with hope. "This time," he said quietly, "there's three of us."
"Oh. Oh! Oh, yes, that is good!" the War Doctor exclaimed, hands raising to clutch his forehead as he caught on.
Ten's eyebrows rose as realization struck. "Oh, oh, oh!" he burst out. "I'm getting that too! That is brilliant!" He spun in a circle, nearly vibrating with excitement as he jumped up in the air and slapped his TARDIS before turning to sweep Rose up into an ecstatic hug. She shrieked with laughter, flinging her arms around him as he swung her in the air.
Eleven's ecstatic laughter filled the room as he turned to Lyssa. "I've been thinking about it for centuries!" he cried triumphantly, placing his hands on her cheeks and pulling her in for a dizzying kiss. He pulled away only to wrap her up in a tight hug, arms trembling with the strength of his emotion. "After all this time," he murmured, voice close to breaking. "No matter what happens next... I wasn't the one to destroy Gallifrey."
Still a little flushed, she turned slightly in his arms to reach up to cup his cheeks. "You never were," she told him quietly, leaning up slightly on her toes to give him a gentle kiss. "You were its hero all along," she said as she pulled away. "The Doctor, all along."
He gave her a small, grateful smile, leaning his forehead against hers. "Only because you showed me how to be the Doctor again."
"This never would have happened if you hadn't stepped in to help," the War Doctor turned to Rose, drawing their attention. "Bad Wolf Girl, you are amazing!"
She smirked. "Oh, I know. But feel free to keep telling me that, Doctor."
Ten's grip tightened a little around her shoulders. "I will take over all duties of complimenting you," he told her seriously before turning back to the War Doctor. "No one else needed, but thanks for the offer."
"And he's jealous of himself again," the Ranger sighed. "Technically."
"So, what are we doing?" Clara drew their attention back to the situation at hand. "What's the plan?"
"The Dalek fleets are surrounding Gallifrey, firing on it constantly," the War Doctor started, glancing up at the ceiling as if through it he could see the bombardment as they gathered together in a little huddle once more.
"The Sky Trench is holding," Ten said in a low voice. "But what if the whole planet... just disappeared?"
Clara raised an eyebrow. "Tiny bit of an ask."
"Not like it'd be the first time a planet disappeared involving Daleks," the Ranger shrugged.
"The Daleks would be firing on each other - they'd destroy themselves in their own crossfire," Ten answered his own question.
"Gallifrey would be gone, the Daleks would be destroyed, and it would look to the rest of the universe as if they'd annihilated each other," the War Doctor summed up.
"Keeping the timelines intact, without actually destroying Gallifrey," the Ranger nodded along.
"But... where would Gallifrey be?" Clara pointed out.
"Frozen!" Ten exclaimed. "Frozen in an instant of time, safe and hidden away."
"Exactly!" Eleven continued, taking Lyssa's hand and holding it tight.
"Like a painting," the War Doctor finished with a smile.
"Hate to break it to you, but you're going to need more than three Doctors for something like this," the Ranger drawled, tilting his head to the side with a smile that said he already knew their answer.
"Oh, a lot more," Ten agreed easily. "Maybe, I dunno... eleven?" he suggested with a glance at his counterpart.
"At the least," Eleven smirked. "Maybe even twelve."
"Twelve Doctors," Lyssa said slowly. She turned to him with a laugh. "You might not even have to do anything else. That many Doctors, the Daleks will probably cut and run then and there."
"So. Who's getting which Doctors?" the Ranger leaned in, eyes alight with interest. "Personally, I call dibs on Four."
"Why him specifically?" Clara asked curiously.
He gave her a devilish grin. "I've always wanted the Fourth to be with me."
xXx
"Would you like a jelly baby?" the Fourth Doctor, a man with a mass of brown curls and an incredibly long, multi-colored scarf, asked, holding out a bag to Lyssa.
She grinned. "That would be delightful, thank you." She reached into the bag, selecting one of the gummy treats and popping it in her mouth. "I've always wanted to try one of these," she remarked. The Ranger probably would have enjoyed them as well - he had a strong sweet tooth to rival hers - but everyone had unanimously agreed that he was no longer allowed to leave the TARDIS, and he was currently sulking with Clara in the console room.
"Well, I would be happy to offer an exchange of sweets for some information," he told her, smiling winningly. "Nothing important, don't want to mess with Time and all that. It's just that I know I've seen you before, and I'm dreadfully curious."
She tried to repress a smile. "Careful, Doctor. Curiosity killed the cat, you know," she warned him.
"And satisfaction brought it back," he countered.
A heavy arm draped across her shoulders as Eleven pulled her against him, scowling darkly at his past self. "Spoilers are against the rules," he reminded his past self.
Four sniffed in disapproval. "I see I grow up to become thoroughly boring. A stickler for the rules like you probably wouldn't care in the least for a jelly baby, then." Rolling the bag shut, he stuffed it in his pocket and gave Lyssa a bright smile, ignoring Eleven's outraged sputters. "I shall be happy to help, my dear. I'll see you there." Not even deigning to give his future self another glance, he turned and strode into his TARDIS, leaving the two of them to watch as the blue box faded and disappeared.
"I think that went well," Lyssa considered.
Eleven sniffed. "Of course you do. You got a jelly baby."
xXx
"Whatever you're sellin', I'm not interested," the Ninth Doctor said sharply as soon as he opened the door to his TARDIS and saw Eleven standing outside. "No glass cleaner, no vacuums, and especially no pears!" he added as he started to shut it.
"And what about very old friends?" Lyssa popped out from behind Eleven. "I promise, we come without pears."
Nine stopped short, pulling the door open all the way. "Lyssa?"
She smiled, stepping out fully. "Hello, Doctor," she greeted him, smile flickering when she saw him wince at the name. Then she took a closer look at his face and sucked in a breath of realization at the devastation so close to the surface in his eyes, an expression she'd seen before. This was Nine shortly after the Time War, freshly grieving and believing he'd broken the promise of the Doctor. All but ready to give up until he found the strength to carry on and bear the weight of his promise once more.
"A vacuum salesman?" Eleven whispered under his breath incredulously, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "Really? Do I look like a vacuum salesman to you?" he turned to Lyssa.
She shrugged. "Maybe it's the bowtie?" she suggested cheerfully.
"Wait," Nine said abruptly, eyes switching from Lyssa to Eleven. "Don't tell me..."
"There it is," Eleven smirked, straightening his bowtie proudly.
"Where'd you pick up this one then?" Nine asked Lyssa with an expression of distaste. "Thought normally we had higher standards for companions than that."
Eleven let his hands fall from his bow tie in disgust. "Why do I always think I'm a companion?" he asked Lyssa in exasperation. "What about me looks like any of my past companions?"
She shrugged. "You're young and you're pretty. Appearance-wise, you're all set. And you're jeopardy-friendly, as an added bonus. "
Eleven sputtered a few unintelligible words before sighing and simply pulling out his sonic and waving it with a huff at Nine, who didn't look any more impressed.
"I turn into a pretty boy?"
Lyssa blinked. "When were you ever not?" she frowned. All the versions of him she'd seen so far had been attractive in their own ways, if with questionable fashion. And then she saw Eleven glance down at her with a fond smile - and Nine's lips twitch up in a smile - and promptly turned red as she realized she'd said it aloud. "Shutting up now," she mumbled, sliding behind Eleven as he laughed.
"Theta? Who's there?" she heard herself - but not - say, and, curiosity overcoming her embarrassment, peeked out from behind Eleven to see her past self from almost a year and a half ago step next to Nine, slipping her hand into his. Curls a darker shade than she had now tumbled to a messy stop just below her shoulders, solitary blue charm resting atop her shirt. Heavy, shadowed eyes widened when she saw Eleven, who gave her a soft smile, and only grew wider when they turned to her, confusion filling them for a moment before startled recognition hit. "What? How - why are you here?" she asked.
Lyssa stepped fully out from behind Eleven again and offered her and Nine a gentle smile. "We're here to save Gallifrey. Want to help?"
xXx
Gathering the other Doctors went similarly well. The Doctor only offended his past selves a handful of times, and only got offended by his past selves a few times. Sometimes both at once. But they all came together for Gallifrey, and Lyssa couldn't help but ache for the light in the eyes of the Doctor before the War - a light that was missing in all later incarnations, no matter whether or not he knew he'd saved Gallifrey rather than burning it, no matter how far he'd come in healing.
Winning or losing, the Time War had destroyed a bit of the innocence he'd always held, a bit of his hope in people's better sides. Not all of it. Not by a long shot. But enough.
She sighed, glancing at the list on the monitor as the console pinged. One by one, the Doctors were lining up. A notification appeared on the screen, and she clicked it, laughing when the War Doctor's latest message to the War Council popped up, recalling their shocked reactions. "'Gallifrey Stands,'" she read aloud.
"That's our cue," Eleven said, switching the monitor's display to a video call with the War Council, a group of harried Time Lords gathered around a table with a projection displaying the War Doctor's message. "Hello, hello, Gallifrey High Command, this is the Doctor speaking," he called. The Council looked around the battered room in surprise before focusing on the camera. "Did you miss me?"
"Hello! Also the Doctor," Ten popped up in a blue holographic screen, waving to the camera with a big grin. "Can you hear me?"
"Also the Doctor," the War Doctor reported tersely and not bothering with the niceties. "Standing ready."
"Three of them," one of the men breathed, looking between the three projections in horror. "All of my worst nightmares at once."
"Oh, honey, just you wait," Lyssa smirked.
"General, we have a plan," Ten spoke up.
"We should point out, at this moment, it is a fairly terrible plan," Eleven admitted.
"And almost certainly won't work," Ten agreed.
Eleven gave him a look. "I was happy with 'fairly terrible'."
"Sorry. Just... thinking out loud."
"We're flying our three TARDISes into your lower atmosphere," Eleven informed them, hands flying over the controls as the TARDIS flew smoother than she ever had before. In their bond, she felt happy, and hopeful, reaching out to her sisters as they reached back to her in a companionship she hadn't felt for centuries.
"We're positioned at equidistant intervals round the globe," Ten added as his TARDIS came into view on the screen plotting out their positions, before turning to Rose. "'Equidistant'," he repeated with a happy little grin. "So grown-up!"
She laughed, her smile lighting up her eyes more than Bad Wolf's gold ever had.
"We're just about ready to do it," the War Doctor mentioned, glancing at a readout.
"Ready to do what?" the General growled suspiciously.
"Ready to freeze Gallifrey," Eleven said seriously, pausing in his work to make eye contact with the General.
"I'm sorry, what?" he asked incredulously, exchanging a look with the man beside him as if he couldn't believe his ears.
"Using our TARDISes, we're going to freeze Gallifrey in a single moment in time," Ten explained.
"You know, like those Stasis Cubes?" the War Doctor reminded them. "A single moment in time held in a parallel pocket universe."
"Except we're going to do it to the whole planet," Eleven grinned, forming a circle with his hands to illustrate it.
"And all the people on it," Ten swore fiercely.
"What? Even if that were possible, which it isn't, why would you do such a thing?" the General frowned. "I've heard the rumors. What the High Council did, what they plan to do. You owe us nothing."
Eleven's hands paused in their work, wrapping so tight around the console his knuckles turned white. His jaw worked for a moment before he looked up at them. "Because the people are innocent. And the alternative is burning," he told them in a flat tone.
"And I've seen that," Ten said darkly, pain in his eyes. Beside him, Rose reached out and took his hand, a silent support.
"And I never want to see it again," Eleven bit out.
"We'd be lost in another universe," the General shook his head, dismay spreading across his face. "Frozen in a single moment. We'd have nothing," he almost pleaded.
"You would have hope!" Eleven thrust a finger at the screen, eyes wet. "And right now, that is exactly what you don't have."
"It-it's delusional," the General stammered, shaking his head hopelessly once more and only illustrating the Doctor's point. "And impossible. You'd need a Bad Wolf level generator for that kind of power, which only exists theoretically. Not to mention the calculations alone would take... hundreds of years."
"Bad Wolf checking in," Rose smirked, setting her hands on the TARDIS console as gold mist curled around them before swirling up and around the rotor.
Lyssa glanced up in Eleven's TARDIS as something tugged at her hands, though less painfully than when it had been the Moment and more... thrilling. She could feel the TARDIS urging her in her bond and followed the impulse, pressing her hands against the console. They began to glow, tendrils of gold twirling away and twining around the rotor before disappearing up into the ceiling as the TARDIS sang joyfully in their bond, growing in strength with each passing moment.
"Delusional is our specialty," she laughed, her reflection in the glass around the rotor showing golden eyes to match Bad Wolf's.
"We do the impossible on a daily basis," Clara chimed in with a mischievous smirk. "And sometimes, we even are the impossible."
"As for the years... I think our old boys have that covered." Rose drawled with a glance at Ten. "Our very old boys."
"It would take hundreds and hundreds of years for those calculations," Eleven agreed blithely.
"But don't worry," Ten told them meaningfully, lips curling up into a bright grin. "I started a very long time ago."
Another TARDIS appeared around the planet, a matching hologram popping up to reveal an old man with young eyes. "Calling the War Council of Gallifrey, this is the Doctor," the First Doctor said tersely.
"You might say I've been doing this all my lives," Eleven quipped as TARDIS after TARDIS appeared around the planet, as Doctor after Doctor stepped up to the plate, all ready to save Gallifrey.
"I didn't know when I was well off," the General breathed in horror, eyes flitting from Doctor to Doctor. "All twelve of them."
"No, Sir," his companion corrected him with wide eyes as thick gray eyebrows appeared on a new screen before pulling back to reveal the determined face of the Twelfth Doctor, the hand of a hidden companion, wearing a delicate ring, resting on his shoulder. "All thirteen."
Lyssa smiled in silent pride.
The projection of the room shook as all the inhabitants stumbled before regaining their balance, dust crumbling from the ceiling. "Sir! The Daleks know that something is happening," one of the men told the General. "They're increasing their fire power."
The General shuddered, looking up at Eleven. "Just do it, Doctor," he gave in. "Do it!"
Eleven nodded, glancing at Lyssa, eyes alight with hope, before turning to the projections of the other Doctors. "Okay, gentlemen. We're ready." he announced quietly. He glanced up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. "Geronimo!" he cried, throwing a switch.
"Allons-y!" Ten shouted with glee, slamming the same switch in his own TARDIS.
The War Doctor rolled his eyes. "Oh, for - Gallifrey stands!" he proclaimed in exasperation, doing the same as faint wisps of gold flickered around the time rotor in his TARDIS.
One by one, each TARDIS joined in as they circled the planet, lines of gold shooting out from them and wrapping around Gallifrey, over and over until they formed a field that grew brighter and brighter until it exploded outwards, filling the screens with blinding light. When it faded, Gallifrey was gone - and the billions upon billions of Daleks had wiped each other out with their own fire, only broken remnants left floating aimlessly through the empty space.
Lyssa blew out a breath, glancing down at her hands to see that the glowing fire had faded. "That's it, then," she said softly. "The Time War ends."
Everything was quiet after that, a heavy stillness that filled the air and weighed down on them. No one seemed to know how to react at first, glancing silently at the other occupants of their TARDIS or at the other Doctors on their screens.
The most used to doing things he didn't want to do, the War Doctor was the first to break the silence. "It's done, then," he sighed. "For better or for worse."
"Trust me," Ten said grimly. "Definitely for the better."
"Hard to imagine it bein' worse," Nine muttered, eyes damp and red but lighter, more at peace. A hand reached out and took his as Lyssa's past self slipped into view, leaning her head against his shoulder with a faint smile. She only vaguely remembered this, but did recall that one day they'd both started feeling better and wondered if this was why - if, even though they couldn't remember it, they'd both been given hope.
Eleven wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her tight against him and pressing a kiss to her temple. "Thank you, gentlemen," he called to his past selves.
"Goodbye, Doctors," Lyssa gave a faint smile and a wave as, one by one, the TARDISes began to disappear, each Doctor returning to his proper place in the timeline as all memories of saving Gallifrey faded away.
"So, what now?" Clara asked once only the three original Doctors were left.
The Ranger hummed thoughtfully. "I vote for food."
xXx
"I don't suppose we'll ever know if we actually succeeded," the War Doctor sighed, sitting a little further back on his bench at the National Gallery Under Gallery. "But at worst, we failed doing the right thing, as opposed to succeeding in doing the wrong." He dropped a single cube of sugar in his tea.
Clara raised her eyebrows. "Life and soul you are," she muttered as she took a seat next to him.
"Bah, every party needs a downer," the Ranger told her, heaping a large helping of sugar into his steaming tea and stirring it. "Your happiness is all the greater for knowing pain," he said solemnly.... and then promptly took a loud slurp before hastily dropping it back on the saucer and hissing a repeated stream of pain-filled mutters at the heat.
"Trust me, Doctor, you'll know," Lyssa smiled. She glanced up as the distinctive sound of the TARDIS landing filled the room, Ten's ship appearing neatly in the space between Eleven's and the War Doctor's.
"Sorry I'm late," Ten apologized sheepishly as he and Rose stepped out, hand in hand. "Had some... things. To do." He cleared his throat.
"I made him apologize to Queen Elizabeth," Rose rolled her eyes. "I refuse to be the other woman, and I'm not going to make her just sit back and wait for decades, not knowing what's going on. She'd feel nothing but used."
Ten rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah, that was... not my best moment." He winced. "So, uh. She did agree to an annulment. But she's not very happy. Understandably," he hastened to add, shifting and revealing a reddened cheek. "Just... maybe try and stay away from Elizabethan England. I don't think she'll appreciate the difference of alternate universes if she sees you, or your version of me."
"You know, that would explain the very nasty letter I got from her," Eleven mused, Amy's glasses perched precariously on his nose. "She called me a scoundrel of the highest degree, a faithless wretch, and..." He glanced at Ten, raising an eyebrow. "Well, a few other things that would be considered less than polite for her time. She also mentioned that I'd also made a promise to be England's protector, and she hoped I wouldn't be as careless with that vow."
"Yeah, she got pretty vicious," the Ranger chuckled, whistling lowly. "Very glad it wasn't me." Ten gave him an unimpressed look and he shrugged. "You reap what you sow."
"Yes, there will be a long talk about that," Rose smiled sweetly, and Ten winced.
"Wait, hold on!" Eleven exclaimed, brow furrowing. "She tried to kill me, back when you and I went with Martha to see Shakespeare," he turned to Lyssa. "I didn't know why but you did, and you told Martha but not me. The two of you were laughing at me for a week afterward," he scowled.
Lyssa grinned at him. "But Doctor, telling you would have been a spoiler, and you didn't want me to spoil anything for your fourth self either," she batted her eyes at him innocently.
He huffed, struggling to maintain his ire before giving up and not-sulking away from her and over to the painting of Arcadia which now sat on display. "I suppose you can't tell me anything about this, either?" he called.
"Oh, that's new," Ten said in surprise, joining him. "What's it called?" he asked, donning his glasses and studying it carefully.
"Well, there's some debate," Eleven told him, stepping back and removing his own glasses, dropping them in his pocket. "Either No More, or Gallifrey Falls."
The War Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's not very encouraging," he muttered.
"It is if you say the name right," a woman muttered, and Lyssa frowned, the voice just a touch too quiet for her too trace it. It sounded familiar, though, like....
"What's in a name?" the Ranger quoted with a philosophical air. "A rose by any other name..." He trailed off, smile fading and eyes fixed on a point to the side of the group. "Unless she's not a Rose at all," he breathed.
Lyssa turned to follow his gaze, and saw the mysterious woman from earlier. Gone was the gold that had rippled around her, hiding her from sight. Now she was a tangible, clearly visible woman who sat crumpled on the floor, leaning against the wall. She coughed weakly, tangled brown curls interspersed with a pale ashy blonde tumbling down to her waist as she moved. Dark bruises and red scars and scrapes shone bright against her pale skin and could be seen through some of the rips and tears in her clothing.
"Well, this is bothersome," she muttered, voice thin and weak as she shoved her hair out of her face and looked up.
Eleven tensed, stepping closer to Lyssa and curling his shaking hand around hers, never taking his eyes off the woman.
Lyssa's breath caught in her throat as she met the eyes of herself for the second time that day, albeit in the opposite direction.
"Ah." The woman - Lyssa - blinked. "You can hear me." She looked around and saw the entire room staring at her. "You... can all hear me," she realized.
"You've started to recover," Rose smiled gently at her.
"Sorry, what?" Ten stammered, looking between Rose, the woman, and Lyssa. "You - is there anyone else in the room that we can't see?" he asked in exasperation, glancing around as if someone else might pop up.
"If there was, would we know?" the Ranger pointed out, very reasonably. "We went ghost hunting once, but we didn't actually find any ghosts, though we did do some successful matchmaking. So. Either there are no ghosts, or we're just really bad at it."
Eleven had gone very still, as had the War Doctor.
"But you're... me," Lyssa said blankly, staring at her double.
"Well... yes," the woman admitted. "I do hope that isn't an inconvenience. Be a bit awkward."
"Sorry. How - why are you here?" Clara asked with a frown. "I thought there was only one of you per Doctor at once, and Ten isn't from here. And the War Doctor showed up alone. What's happened to you? Are you all right?"
The... other Lyssa... smiled wanly, shifting to sit up a little straighter and revealing a neckline that looked unusually bare without her necklace. "Why? Do I not look like my usual, beautiful self?"
"Where are you from?" Lyssa asked, studying her double as the shock wore off. She didn't look identical, now that she was looking closer. She looked older, if just in her pained eyes that matched the Doctor on his darkest of days, and thinner than was healthy. Her hair was longer than Lyssa's had ever been, but while there were more streaks that would presumably have been gold, they were instead a faded ashy color, as if the gold Lyssa had now had been drained away. Even her original brown looked limp and dull. "What happened?"
"I'll take that as a no," her double sniffed. She sighed, head falling back against the wall. "I can't say too much. I was... caught. Trapped by... someone who tried to drain the Time Vortex from me." She turned her head slightly to glance at Lyssa. "For future reference, that's bad. Very bad. There is a way to fight back, but..." she swallowed hard, eyes filled with an all too fresh remembered pain as they met Lyssa's. "It has a price. Make sure you're ready to pay it."
Eleven made a noise that might have been a broken cry, or a curse, but cut it off before it could form words, jaw clenched shut so tight it had to be painful.
"I found her," Rose spoke up, eyes briefly flaring gold. "The TARDIS, your TARDIS," she nodded at the still silent War Doctor, "reached beyond the walls of your universe and told me she needed help, that the Doctor couldn't reach her. The walls between universes were damaged from the Time War, allowing us to slip through. I was able to find her, but she'd lost too much energy and was startin' to fade. So I hid her, to keep her from using up what was left of her energy, and then I... borrowed some to sustain her." She glanced meaningfully at Lyssa.
"That's what that was," Lyssa realized, staring down at her hands. The energy she'd seen flowing to her future self, and how her form had seemed more stable after - and how she'd flickered and faded after the Moment began leeching from them both. "We have the same energy, so you were taking some for her. Because I - she - had lost too much."
Rose nodded solemnly. "I had to create a connection between us to transfer it to her, which is why you could see me when no one else could."
"But... I could see you," Clara said hesitantly. "And I don't have the Time Vortex in me."
"No, but you're brimming with the Doctor's timeline after being immersed in it," Rose told her. "You're overflowin' with it. Lyssa and the Doctor share a timeline. I couldn't take too much from Lyssa, but you don't need it to survive the way she does. So I created another connection."
"I should have died," her double admitted faintly. "What happened... it should have killed me long before Rose reached me. It's a miracle I'm still alive."
Eleven released Lyssa's hand, crossing over to her future self and kneeling down beside her. "You're still a miracle to me each and every day, you know," he whispered quietly. "Hold on tight, my fairy-girl. You'll get through this."
She gave him a faint smile filled with disbelief. "Still believing in the impossible, then?" she said weakly, shaking her head. "I'm so tired, Doctor. I don't think I have anything left to hold on with. Anything left to hold on to." She licked pale, bloodless lips as she struggled to lift a shaky hand to him.
He caught it with his own trembling hands, eyes wet. "I have always believed in the impossible," he told her, voice breaking and yet absolutely firm with conviction. "Just as I have always loved her." He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing it against them. "If you're too tired to hold on, then I will hold on for you," he breathed like it was a promise. "And if you have nothing left to hold on to, let me give you something to hold on to." He turned to the War Doctor, whose eyes were red and wet, and inclined his head at Lyssa's future self.
He retreated as the War Doctor stepped forward until he was back by Lyssa's side. Still thoroughly confused, and a little frightened, she reached out and took his hand. He drew in a shuddering breath and clasped his tight around hers. She watched as the War Doctor knelt beside her future self, taking her faltering hand with the same care Eleven had, treating it as if it were a precious gift made of the most delicate glass - or glass that had already started to break. He whispered a faint, desperate apology that only just reached Lyssa's ears, and a single tear trickled down his cheek as she gave him the same absolute forgiveness Lyssa had, gracing him with a soft smile that told him everything her faltering voice could not.
He reluctantly released her hand, setting it carefully on her lap as he reached up to his neck and slowly removed a silver necklace. Bright gleams of color flashed at the bottom before being hidden by his palm too quickly for Lyssa to make out any differences. Whispering to her in what she could only make out as Gallifreyan words, perhaps a promise, he clasped it around her neck before pulling back his hands to let it fall against her tunic.
She struggled to lift her arm and finally managed it, wrapping her hand around the charms and letting out a faint sigh of relief before giving him a soft smile. "Thank you," she told him quietly, closing her eyes and leaning against him as he lifted her into his arms. He held her tight as her hands began to glow, gold swirling around them and creeping up her arms. Eleven let out a quiet, shuddering breath and released Lyssa's hand in favor of drawing her against him, wrapping his arms tightly around her.
"I suppose it's only fitting," the War Doctor breathed, holding up his own hand glowing from within as regeneration energy pulsed through him. "A final goodbye for us both."
Feeling oddly like she was intruding - even though it was her future self - Lyssa turned away to give them privacy, surprised to find her own eyes damp. She buried her face in Eleven's chest, feeling the pounding of his hearts through the fabric as he leaned down to press a kiss against her hair, hand curling tightly around her waist. She felt one last tug of energy before it slowly dissipated, and she knew before she looked that her future self would be gone.
"I won't remember this, will I?" the War Doctor said, looking up at them with empty arms, eyes red but peaceful.
Eleven shook his head slowly. "The timestreams are out of sync. You can't retain it, no," he told him sympathetically, grip tightening on Lyssa.
"So I won't remember that I tried to save Gallifrey, rather than burn it; that I got to say goodbye," he sighed. "I'll have to live with that. But for now, for this shining moment..." He pushed himself wearily to his feet, gold glimmering in his veins. "I am the Doctor again."
Lyssa swallowed hard, blinking back fresh tears as she stepped away from Eleven to give him a hug. "You've always been the Doctor to me," she whispered. "You'll see me again soon, just hold on a little longer."
The Doctor ran a trembling hand over her hair and clasped her a little tighter to him. "For you, my dear," he breathed. "Anything."
She bit her lip, not wanting to leave it at that - wanting him to leave with something more solid, even if it was just a feeling buried deep in his memory. She glanced at Eleven, who was having a hushed conversation with Rose and Ten, then stood up on her toes to whisper in his ear - she would tell them later, but for now, this... this would be between her and the Doctor. "The painting doesn't have two titles, you know," she told him quietly. "It's not just No More or Gallifrey Falls. It's all one title. Gallifrey Falls No More."
He let out a choked laugh, pushing back from her slightly to rest his hands on her shoulders. "We did it then!" he exclaimed quietly, eyes lighting up. She nodded, letting out a quiet laugh as he leaned in, resting his forehead against hers. "Thank you, fairy-girl," he told her, eyes bright. His hands tightened involuntarily around her shoulders, expression filling with pain as the gold in his veins flared just a little brighter. When it passed he gave her a sorrowful look. "I have to go."
She closed her eyes. "I'll miss you," she told him honestly, wishing he could stay just a little bit longer, that she could help just a little more . But he had to go, had to regenerate into Nine. He'd see her again in just a few weeks.
"As I shall miss you," he said solemnly, reluctantly releasing her and stepping away. He looked at the three TARDISes lined up in a row, tilting his head to the side. "Which one is mine?" he asked aloud, drawing the attention of the others.
Ten exchanged a flat, unamused look with Eleven before both of them looked pointedly at the most beat-up TARDIS.
The Doctor laughed. "Until next time." He gave them all a nod in farewell, a faint smile gracing his lips as he slipped into his TARDIS. It began to dematerialize a moment later, memories fading away as the regeneration process began.
Ten waited until it faded entirely to remove his glasses and walk over to Eleven. "I won't remember either, so you might as well tell me."
"Tell you what?" Eleven raised an eyebrow.
"Where it is we're going that you don't want to talk about," Ten told him. "I may be from a different universe but the general timeline of events is the same. Whatever it is, I'll be facing it too."
Eleven hesitated. "Some of it is universe-specific," he cautioned. "Involving Lyssa and myself. But... yes, at least part of it you will have to experience as well. I saw Trenzalore... where we're buried. We die in battle. A war, with the universe at stake and a broken TARDIS as our monument."
Ten backed up a few steps, reaching out to clutch Rose's hand. "That's not how it's supposed to be."
Eleven gave him a sympathetic glance. "That's how the story ends - nothing we can do about it. Trenzalore is where you're going."
"Oh, never say nothing," Ten shook his head. "I don't like that word."
"You never do," Eleven muttered.
Ten sighed. "I suppose we should be going. Can't stay here forever." He glanced back at his TARDIS, eyes dimming a little. "It was good, though. To see Gallifrey one last time. To try to save it, instead of destroy it, even if it was in a different universe."
Eleven rolled his eyes, reaching over and whapping the man upside the head, then ruffling his hair until Ten looked like himself again. "Where do you think my version of you was?" he asked pointedly as Ten ducked away, batting his hand away with an offended scowl.
"Wait, what?" Lyssa frowned. "You mean..."
He nodded. "Couldn't remember much 'til now, but you and I went there at the same time he," he nodded at Ten, "came here. That's why the screwdrivers matched up - you were at the exact same point he was." He gave Ten a cocky little smirk. "Told you, you can't get anything done without Lyssa."
"And Rose," Ten insisted loyally. "None of this would have happened without her."
"Yes, I suppose you are right for once," Eleven conceded. "Thank you, Rose. Still don't have the foggiest idea how you did this, but thank you."
She laughed. "A girl's got to have some secrets, Doctor. Some things are just meant to remain a mystery." She glanced up, eyes flashing gold. "We have to go," she said, sobering. "The walls between universes are closing again. I look forward to seeing you again," she told Lyssa, giving her a hug. "And for the rest of you, it was lovely to meet you all."
"Right then," Ten nodded, clearing his throat. "Good to know my future is in good hands. Keep a tight hold on it, Lyssa. Clara, Ranger," he nodded at them both.
She smiled. "Goodbye, Doctor. I'll let Rose tell you the truth about the painting."
He frowned, turning to Rose. "The painting? What about the painting?"
She smirked. "I'll tell you in the TARDIS."
He gave her a hesitant glance, but nodded, keeping his hand tight around hers as they walked back to their own TARDIS. He pushed open the door and let her go through, then paused halfway through. "Trenzalore," he repeated thoughtfully. "We need a new destination, because..." he shook his head. "I don't want to go."
Lyssa clamped her lips shut tight and blew out a heavy sigh through her nose as he and Rose left. "I swear, he does that on purpose," she grumbled.
"He always says that," Eleven - or the Doctor, now that the others were gone - waved him off. "That regeneration always was rather dramatic," he said over his shoulder, walking back over in front of the painting and studying it with a pensive expression.
"Said the pot to the kettle," the Ranger muttered.
Clara glanced between the Doctor and Lyssa. "You know what, why don't you show me around," she told the Ranger abruptly, curling her arm through his.
"What - here?" he asked in surprise, looking around.
She nodded with an innocent smile. "When else are we going to get the chance to explore an art gallery that's closed off to everyone without top secret clearance?" she pointed out. "I mean, there's all sorts of things here that you won't see anywhere else."
He shrugged, still a bit confused but easily rolling with it. "All right. Who am I to turn down a free date with a beautiful woman? And hey, maybe we'll run into my sister," he joked as they set off down the left corridor. "My dad always said she was good at getting into places she shouldn't be."
"As opposed to you, the most obedient child, I presume," Clara said dryly.
"Naturally," he agreed airily. "How could I be anything but?"
"Your sisters are both older, right?" Clara recalled.
"Not with time travel, they're not," he told her gleefully.
She snorted. "Let me guess. That's the real reason you agreed to come with us."
"Sibling rivalry at its finest," he laughed. "Forget seeing new galaxies and saving worlds. I want to have one over them."
Lyssa watched until their voices faded down the corridor, then turned to the Doctor. "Do you want me to leave too?" she offered, knowing that he'd wanted to be alone in the show. "I can wait in the TARDIS."
He glanced at her in surprise and immediately shook his head. "Of course not," he told her, reaching out to take her hand and tugging her down to sit by him on a bench in front of the painting. "You were there with me every step of the way. Like I told you after 1913, I want you always by my side."
She smiled, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Well, I'm happy to be here, so you'll get no arguments from me."
He leaned over, pressing a kiss against her curls. They sat in silence for a few minutes, just watching the painting of Arcadia, before he broke it. "I could be a curator," he said thoughtfully. "I'd be great at curating. I'd be...the great curator. I could retire and do that. I could retire and be the curator of this place," he decided, glancing down at her as if to get her opinion.
"You know, I think you really might," an older man said before she could. They both looked up in surprise to see an older man with white curls and a tan coat, looking very, very similar to a man they'd both seen just an hour earlier.
"I never forget a face," the Doctor said slowly.
The Curator smiled. "I know you don't, and in years to come, you might find yourself revisiting a few but just... the old favourites, eh?" he tapped a finger against his nose, the light catching on his ring and flashing with the movement.
The Doctor let out a startled laugh.
"You were curious about this painting, I think," he continued. "I acquired it in remarkable circumstances. What do you make of the title?"
The Doctor glanced at Lyssa. "Which title? There's two. No More... or Gallifrey Falls?"
Lyssa shook her head with a smile, and the Curator nodded at her with a twinkle in his eye. "Ah, she knows. But then, she always does, doesn't she?" he smiled. "You see, that's where everybody's wrong. It's all one title. Gallifrey Falls No More. Now, what would you think that means, eh?"
The Doctor straightened, glancing between him and Lyssa as if hardly daring to hope. "That... that Gallifrey didn't fall. That it's still out there." His hand tightened on hers.
The Curator shrugged. "I'm only a humble curator, I'm sure I wouldn't know." He turned to leave.
"Then where is it?" the Doctor pressed.
The Curator turned back. "Where is it indeed? Lost - shh! - perhaps." He held a finger to his lips and lowered his voice. "Things do get lost, you know. Now you must excuse me. Oh... you have a lot to do."
"Do I?" the Doctor grinned.
The Curator only hummed and winked at Lyssa, who laughed.
"Is that what I'm supposed to do now? Go looking for Gallifrey?" the Doctor asked.
The Curator shrugged. "Oh, it's entirely up to you. Your choice. I can only tell you what I would do, if I were you... Oh...! If I were you..." He exchanged a look with the Doctor, both chuckling. "Perhaps I was you, of course. Or, perhaps, you are me." He held a hand out to the Doctor, who took it. "Normally, it would be against the rules to do this. But then, we never were very fond of rules, were we? And today, of all days, seems to be a day to break them. Congratulations."
"Thank you very much," the Doctor told him, releasing Lyssa to clasp both hands around the Curator's.
"Or perhaps it doesn't matter either way. Who knows? Who...knows?" he tapped his nose again. Detecting some signal they couldn't, he turned. "Ah. It would seem I have forgotten something."
Lyssa followed his gaze to see a young girl in her late teens walk in, soft brown curls framing her face. She had her green eyes fixed on the Curator, and was wearing a slight frown. When he met her eyes, she narrowed them, and began to sign a rapid series of gestures, giving the impression that she was scolding him. He chuckled, but assumed a penitent expression as he began to sign back.
Eleven looked absolutely delighted to see her, signing what had to be an exuberant greeting when the girl looked up from the Curator and over at him. She smiled, signing with him briefly before turning to Lyssa and signing at her with a grin.
"She said, 'It's good to see you again,'" Eleven translated. "She's, ah, from your future. Long story."
"Oh!" She turned back to the girl, wishing she knew more than a smattering of signs and letters - and that only in ASL. "It's good to see you," she told her with a smile, making sure to enunciate.
The girl beamed, glancing down as the watch on her wrist buzzed, then gave her and the Doctor a wave goodbye before turning and darting back the way she came.
"Well, I must be off," the Curator sighed, watching her leave with a fond smile. "My wife needs me. I shall see you later, Doctor. Lyssa. You've got a good long run ahead of you both. Just remember to do it together. Makes things very much easier."
Lyssa watched him leave with a smile. Eleven laughed, wrapping an arm around her and tugging her into his side. "We did it," he whispered, staring at the painting. "We saved Gallifrey."
"You really did," she smiled.
He shook his head. "No, it was very much 'we'," he insisted, turning to her, one hand falling to her waist. "I couldn't have saved Gallifrey if you hadn't saved me first."
She ducked her head, a blush staining her cheeks. "I didn't really do all that much," she tried to wave him off.
He shook his head, his other hand coming up to tilt her chin up to look at him. "You loved me when I thought the absolute worst of myself, when I thought I was a monster beyond redemption," he told her, green eyes shimmering. "When I thought I had nothing left, you stood beside me... and you gave me love," he whispered, still sounding awed despite centuries having passed. "And that is a debt I can never hope to repay."
She shook her head, blinking back tears. "Love isn't a debt, to be owed or paid for. It's a gift, freely given," she told him. "Just as it's been ever since you first loved me."
He laughed wetly, tracing his hand along her chin until he could slide it into her curls and cup her head. "Fairy-girl," he murmured, lowering his lips to hers. "I've always loved you."
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A/N: Aaaaaaaaaah! This is it! This is, minus the epilogue, the final chapter of Lost in Time. And then book 2, and all its chaos, will start. *More muffled screaming* I can't believe it. This is so crazy to me. All this time, all this effort, has culminated in this. It honestly doesn't even feel real. (I've also consumed way too much caffeine today so that may be part of it.)
I just want you all to know that I've been calling the mysterious grieving woman/future Lyssa 'Ghostie' in my notes this entire time, and that's all I'm saying.
I know, I said 10 was canon and then I promptly brought in Rose and changed all that. So is he still canon? Yes. Old canon is locked up in my basement. This is new canon. Also I want you all to know that Ten 'wakes up' in his TARDIS with Rose kissing him. He doesn't really bother trying to figure out answers after that. (Still canon)
In an AU, if Twelve were the one recruiting the other Doctors, he'd pull up outside each TARDIS in Bessie, wearing his sonic sunglasses, honking the horn repeatedly until the past Doctors come out, and then telling them, "Get in losers, we're saving Gallifrey."
Special thanks to everyone who's voted and followed, and shout-out to all my reviewers. This chapter - this story - would not exist without you.
Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed :)
Penultimate Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, just Lyssa, the Ranger, and the girl.