The Infinity Doctors

[The Doctor]

"Amy," the Doctor said, wrapping an arm around his wife's shoulders and pressing a golden cylinder into her hand, "I need you to take this back to the TARDIS for me."

Doctor Amelia Song peered at the deceptively heavy cylinder. "Why? What is it?"

He pulled her close. "It's a data core, Amy. I need you to take it back to the TARDIS so she can process the scan results." He shook his head, staring at the nameless chaos before them in the tunnel. "There's too much information for my sonic to handle it all."

Amy nodded. "All right. What do I do with it when I get there?"

The Doctor grinned. "Just put it in the slot I use to charge the sonic. She'll do the rest."

"All right," she said, just before putting her hands to the side of his face and staring him in the eyes. "But this better not be some hair-brained scheme to try and keep me safe..."

He interrupted her statement by pulling her close and kissing her thoroughly. For almost a minute they were lost in each other, hands sliding over each other as they savored each other's taste and scent and the warmth of their bodies. Finally, slowly, they broke away. "Perish the thought, Doctor Song," the Doctor said with a grin. "I still remember what happened, last time I tried that."

"You should," she grinned back, slapping him lightly on the behind. "We both walked funny for a week, after that." Reluctantly, she stepped back and away, looking at the cylinder. "All right, I'll take your cylinder back to the ship. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

He laughed. "Moi?"

She folded her arms and stared at him. "Vu."

The Doctor held his hands up in mock surrender. "All right, all right, you win. I'll be smart and clever while you're gone."

"Nuh-uh, Soldier Boy," she said, looking over her shoulder as she turned to walk back up the path. "Just sit there. Last time you did something clever, I had to rescue you from the heart of the Sadnom Fleet!"

"Right, right," he called. She didn't answer, though. She was too busy climbing the steep path. Thirty degree slopes were no picnic, even when you weren't five months pregnant...

---

Still gasping a little for breath, Doctor Amelia Song set the cylinder into the charging slot with a little click. As she waited for the TARDIS to process the data, she looked around the alien - but now homey-feeling - control room. It was like living inside an amber carving, golden light spilling from the walls and coating everything with luminous honey. The marble control console was firm against her rear and under her hands, letting her rest a little without putting her to the stress of sitting down and then having to try and stand up.

She'd been overwhelmed, the first time the Doctor had invited her into the unassuming telephone booth that he'd sworn up and down was a time machine. At the time, even though she'd seen him do any number of spectacular things and had met him in a number of times and places, she'd assumed the self-proclaimed "Time Lord" was just making an excuse to get her alone and in close proximity to him.

He had been. But he'd also been telling the truth about the fabulous ship.

The memory of that first day aboard the TARDIS brought a smile to her lips. A smile that faded with a sudden jolt of panic as the time rotor roared to life. "No!" she shouted, spinning and stabbing at the controls. "No no no no NO!"

By now, she could fly the ship almost as well as he could. Maybe not with the same practiced ease, but with more confidence in actually landing where she'd intended to go. But the controls weren't responding. None of them. He'd locked her out!

"Damn you, Doctor!" she sobbed, helpless and furious. "What are you doing?"

There was a flicker to her left. She spun, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw her Soldier Boy. But that hope sank as she saw it was just a psicon. "Amy," he said, "I am so, so sorry."

"You'd better be," she snarled, tears running down her face. "Why did you...?"

"But, Amy, I know what that is. That snarling, slithering mass of chaos." He shook his head, his expression far more worried than she'd ever seen before. "I have to try and stop it, Amy. I know what it is, and what will happen if I don't. But..." He heaved a sigh, then looked up at her.

"If I fail, I'll be lucky if I get to die. So, I'm sending you somewhere safe. You, and little Susan."

Involuntarily, Amy's hand rubbed her swelling abdomen. "Damn you," she wept. "You promised me..."

"First rule, Amy," the Doctor said, with a sad little grin. "What is it?"

"The... the Doctor lies," she sniffed, "but he's got good reasons."

"Keep our little girl safe, Amy. And, if I don't see you again..." He bit his lip, then forced a smile. "Never mind. I will see you again." A wink. "See you soon."

She stepped forward, grabbing at the image as it winked into nothingness. "You bastard!" she screamed at the air, pain and fury and tears streaking her face. "You cold, heartless bastard!"

Nothing.

She spun back, frantically tearing at the controls. "C'mon," she begged, punching dials and spinning wheels and throwing levers. "C'mon! Work, damn you! WORK!"

Nothing. Nothing except the relentless rise and fall of the time rotor, carrying her further and further from her husband with every passing second. Finally, she sank to her knees, clutching the console for support as she sobbed. "First rule," was the only articulate sound she made. "First rule."

---

Later

A message spread out, propagating through an alien medium at no speed that would make any possible sense to natives of the eleven-dimensional universes that floated through the Void like bubbles in champagne.

"This is Doctor Amelia Song," the message said, "to... to... hell, I don't know. To anyone who can receive this. My..."

There is a brief break in transmission.

"My... my entire universe is... transformed. Like... like a cancer, ravaging space-time. I am, I think, only one of two survivors..."

Another brief break.

"I... I couldn't save him. I couldn't save... couldn't save anyone."

Another break.

"If you can hear this... help me? Please?"

The Infinity Doctors

[Deleted]

The Doctor's latest regeneration had been a difficult one. Through fire and water, from the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, he fought with the beast known as Zagreus, until, at last, he threw down his enemy and smote him on the mountainside. It had wounded him, though, and he fell too. Darkness had taken him, and he strayed out of thought and time. Stars wheeled overhead and everyday was as long as a life-age of the universe.

But it was not the end.

He felt life flow into him again, and his will returned. Armed with a new Sonic Staff, a new outfit, and a new look on life, he had returned the universe. No longer was he the Grey Doctor. He was the White Doctor now, and he was needed more than ever. Were it not for his intervention in Rohan, the king would still be under the dark sway of the Master. He could not let a servant of Fenric gain a foothold in the kingdoms of men, lest the universe fall.

He would have gladly accompanied his friends to Helm's Deep and aided them in preparations for the oncoming Dalorc advance, but his attention was diverted by a messenger coming to his side and whispering words to him that he thought he would never hear.

"The bells of Saint John ring."

Those six words forced him to abandon his efforts, and deliver parting words to his companions.

"The Grey Pilgrim, that’s what they used to call me. Three hundred lives of men I’ve walked this earth and now I have no time. With luck, my search will not be in vain. Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the East."

On horseback, he rode from Rohan and towards a location he had made sure no-one would find. Between a cluster of trees sat a blue police box, which seemed out of place, compared to the world the Doctor knew. He had never had the heart to fix the Chameleon Circuit. While the Master was content to change his TARDIS into a great black tower and call it Orthanc, the Doctor liked his TARDIS just the way it was. He fumbled in his robes for a small silver key, something that he always kept on him, in case of moments like this. Discovering it at last, he inserted it into the TARDIS door and turned it.

The door swung open, and the Doctor entered, smiling at seeing the TARDIS console room with a fresh pair of eyes. Marble white hexagons tiled the walls and the floor, reflecting the sky-blue light emanating from the console. Four gilded pillars rose from the ground to touch the ceiling, joining together at the top of the dome. A great silver archway was placed in the wall, which the Doctor knew could open and serve as a viewport. It made for some beautiful views.

The elderly Time Lord stepped to the console and flicked a switch, catching sight of himself on a reflective surface. He was glad his hair wasn't as scraggly as it had been before. As he listened, the smile faded from his face and grew far more concerned.

"This is Doctor Amelia Song, to... to... hell, I don't know. To anyone who can receive this. My..."

"My... my entire universe is... transformed. Like... like a cancer, ravaging space-time. I am, I think, only one of two survivors..."

"I... I couldn't save him. I couldn't save... couldn't save anyone."

If you can hear this... help me? Please?"

"I need to trace the origin of the message." the Doctor said, flicking more switches and pressing more buttons, leaning his Sonic Staff against the console. He heard the temporal engine fire up and he left Middle-Earth.

His TARDIS started shaking and rocking violently, as if it were attempting to resist the Doctor's controls.

"Behave!" the Doctor commanded, putting his hand to the console and activating more of the controls. Again, the TARDIS resisted, as if it were trying to breach dimensions.

[Amelia Pond]

The Doctor had been relaxing on the pleasure planet, Edina, lounging on a nicely reclined chair beside the pool, sucking down a delightful margarita on the rocks, when a glorious young (well, young compared to her, at least) 'cabana boy' in a leopard-print speedo approached.

"Sorry to disturb you, Madame," he began.

The Doctor lowered her sunglasses slightly and looked out over the top of them at the young man and starkly corrected him.

"Moiselle. Madamoiselle..."

He wasn't fooled - she looked old enough to be his mum, but he wasn't about to point that out. She was, after all, an excellent tipper.

"Call for you," he said, handing her a wireless phone.

She took the phone with one hand, and with the other, she slid her sunglasses back up the bridge of her nose and then waved him off before she held the phone to her ear.

"Yes...?"

There was no voice to return her greeting. Instead, the Doctor heard a familiar (and somewhat annoying) sound: the incessant beeping of her TARDIS' distress signal alert.

"Ugh," the Doctor sighed with a scowl. "There really is no rest for the wicked, is there...?" she grumbled to no one in particular.

She then spoke into the receiver, to her TARDIS, "Well, go on, Darling - play the message for me..."

The beeping paused for a moment, and then the sound of a terrified young woman's voice filled the Doctor's ear:

"This is Doctor Amelia Song," the message said, "to... to... hell, I don't know. To anyone who can receive this. My..."

"My... my entire universe is... transformed. Like... like a cancer, ravaging space-time. I am, I think, only one of two survivors..."

"I... I couldn't save him. I couldn't save... couldn't save anyone."

"If you can hear this... help me? Please?"

With a sigh, the Doctor ended the call with the push of a button, and she set the device down on a little table beside her chair. Then, she promptly polished off the rest of her margarita and set the empty glass down beside the phone before she forced herself up and out of the reclining poolside chair to return to her TARDIS.

The Doctor had to help, even if she'd really rather just let someone else do it. The thing was, though, with cries for help such as this, it was more often than not that no one else would help, and the Doctor's conscience would never allow her to sit idly by and feign ignorance of the poor woman's distress call...

The Time Lady entered her lovely blue box post-haste, not even bothering to close the door behind her, and she went straight to the console, while the beeping of the distress alert carried on.

"Alright! Alright already!" the Doctor cried. "I'm here! Now, where's the fire?"

At that, the alert ceased its infernal beeping, but the red light on the console that indicated an incoming distress call continued to blink - the crisis was still on.

With the switch of a lever, the door to the TARDIS closed. The Doctor took a moment to study a screen on the console, as she worked on tracing the origin of the call, and then she pressed a few buttons, twisted a myriad of knobs, and then the TARDIS materialized, off to answer Doctor Amelia Song's distress call.

After a while, the Doctor gave up trying to manually figure out the coordinates - she blamed too much tequila on her inability to sort out where she needed to go, and instead, she set the TARDIS to auto pilot.

"Just... Take me there," she demanded, pressing her fingers to her temples, as if she had a headache coming on. "I don't care where, Darling - just take me to wherever 'there' is..." she persisted, and she began to pace around the control console, knowing full well that her TARDIS knew exactly what she meant.

[The Corsair]

"Doctor!"
The Master had been scoring the TARDIS rooms for the blasted Time Lord, wondering for the hundredth time how it was possible for an artificial brain to get a headache. Finally he found him in the boot cupboard, reading a book seemingly unperturbed by the alarm blaring at full volume.
"Doctor, your TARDIS is demanding your attention, if you haven't noticed yet by the cacophony she's making!"

There was no reply for a moment, then from behind the book came a raised eyebrow:

"Turn it off if it's so annoying to you. Do I always have to do everything in here?"

The Master shot him the 'you can't possibly be so stupid' glare:
"I've TRIED, in three different ways. It starts again after three seconds, no matter what I do. You know better than me that when this senile TARDIS gets like that she won't stop until you check personally."

The Doctor groaned and complained:

"Why must you be this way, old girl? I'm busy!"

The cloister bell ominously clanged as response together with an eye roll from the Master.

"Fine... let's see what's got her so worried."

The Doctor stood and marched to the Console room, Master in tow. As he switched the proper controls he warned:

"It had better not be the Time Lords, dear!"

The message finally played:

"This is Doctor Amelia Song," the message said, "to... to... hell, I don't know. To anyone who can receive this. My..."

There is a brief break in transmission.

"My... my entire universe is... transformed. Like... like a cancer, ravaging space-time. I am, I think, only one of two survivors..."

Another brief break.

"I... I couldn't save him. I couldn't save... couldn't save anyone."

Another break.

"If you can hear this... help me? Please?"

The two Time Lords looked at each other, the gravity of the situation hitting them like a ton of bricks; after a moment of silence, the Master shrugged:

"Well, at least it's not the Time Lords.. not really."

The Doctor replied with a withering look, then started his dance around the console to track the point of origin of the message and set the coordinates.

"Right then, potential pandimensional disaster coming up. Hold on to your hat, this might get bumpy."

"When doesn't it ever?"

[Deleted]

How many lives has it been now. Quite frankly he wasn't sure, nor did he care. He had already used a number of that other timeline's Doctor's future faces already. The faces this body could've had, the lives it could've been.

But it didn't matter now. He was the only Time Lord who survived the destruction of his universe.

He wasn't the Doctor, and yet he was, as far as his ego was concerned. And now he had stolen another one of the Doctor's faces for this current regeneration.

It didn't matter. This was all a sick game to him. And yet, he had to admit, he was somewhat curious at this distress signal. A chance to see the other selves, the other lives...

Why not?

He doesn't even have to use too much effort any more to disguise himself from other Time Lords' empathy fields. It was almost impossible for them to fully figure out just who or what he really is.

By this point, the real Doctor of the timeline he currently lived in, the one who didn't die on Traken, can now tell whenever he was the one acting up and not some other version of himself or some clone. That's the trouble with repeating the same trick over and over. It gets too predictable.

But if his assumption of this message is true, anyone who knew the Doctor this message came from wouldn't know of who he himself was just yet. Possibly the same if any other Doctor had received this message. Is this worth the risk?

...

Yes. Yes it was.

He set the coordinates on his TARDIS and began to take off towards the source of the signal. Perhaps finally after so many centuries, the Doctor's own curiosity was rubbing off on him.

But then again, he IS the Doctor. He IS the Master. Both great intellects combined into one great malignant force of death and destruction on a grander scale than any could wish to imagine.

"Let's go meet the neighbors," he chuckled to himself.

[Doctor Amelia Song]

Cynosure, the Pan-Dimensional City

The streets were foggy, in this part of town. Two dimensional vortices had been open for hours, one belching thick, humid air into the region and the other radiating intense cold. The result was a thick, clammy fog that felt like a sauna as you neared Deadtown and like the grave as you neared Claemond Hill. Nobody was out of doors without good reason.

Or, well, reasons at least. Not all of them were good.

Bob the lizard was discovering this. He'd wandered outside by accident, too drunk to remember which door was the one to the loo, and had decided to make for the neares alley. Unfortunately for him, the Pride was passing through - and he owed them money.

The chase hadn't been long, or far. He was a small, drunk lizard. They were cats. And now their leader, a scruffy orange tom wearing hipboots and a blade, was holding him against the alley wall by his throat. "Senor Roberto," he was saying, sadly. "For weeks now, my men... they have been looking for you."

There were yowls and hisses of agreement.

"Now I hold them back. I tell them, Senor Roberto is a lizard of his word. He surely intends us no disrespect. But now..." He shook his head, sadly. "Now, when I wish only to discuss your debt... you run."

"Heeek!" Bob managed.

"No... no Senor Roberto, no more words. YOu have... hey? What is that?"

That was a deep roaring growl, building in pitch until it seemed to be a force vibrating bones. Joining it was a strobing blue light, attached to a tall box or cabinet that flickered in and out of visibility. Finally it stabilized, taking the form of an indigo rectangular box proclaiming it a "Police Box".

Puss hissed. "We will speak later, Senor. Of this you may be sure." With that, he dropped Bob and raced after the rest of the Pride.

---

Doctor Song opened the door of the TARDIS. Her thickening midriff had sent her into the ship's wardrobe, and now she was wearing one of the coats that her late husband had worn in an earlier life.

No, not late husband. He couldn't be dead. She'd know if he was dead, right? Even the death of the universe couldn't...

Drawing a deep breath, she got ahold of herself. Time enough to sort that out later. Right now, the Fniaedrasatkfarraasuottaon - the 'feeders from outside' - had established a foothold. They had to be stopped. From the archives in the ship, she'd learned something of their nature. Unchecked, they'd metastasize. They'd spread. They'd consume the multiverse.

"Heeeeeyyy..." something hissed. "Thaaannnnk yooouuu, preeettyyyy laaadyyyy."

Blinking in surprise, she looked down at the chipmunk-sized lizard that was tugging on her jeans. "Uhm... you're welcome."

The lizard beamed, then eyed her curiousily. "Tiiimmmmeee Looorrrd?"

Reflexively, she looked back at the box. "No, not yet. I was still in training. But... I've never heard them called that. My... my husband said they always called themselves the Primarchs of Eternity."

"Baaah," the lizard hissed. "Ssssaaaammmeee diiifffeerreennccee."

"Probably," Doctor Song agreed.

"Coommeee ooonnn," the lizard crooned, tugging at her leg. "Yoouuu neeeed heellp, riiight?"

"Uhm, yeah."

"Coommmee toooo Muuunnnndennnss," the lizard insisted. "Eeevveerree oooonnne cooommmeeess toooo Muuunnndennnsss."

With a shrug, she followed the lizard. If worse came to worse, she was armed. "Like Ricks, right?"

"Eh?" asked the lizard.

The walk was short, leading to a simple sign reading "Munden's" above a low flight of stairs descending from the sidewalk. Inside, the bar was high-ceilinged with bare-brick walls and a wooden floor strewn with sawdust, and a few scattered sentients of the "largely humanoid" persuasion. Behind the bar was an ordinary-looking human man with dark hair and a black vest over a white button-down shirt. He looked up. "Bob! Stop harrassing the customers!"

She took a stool at the bar, eying the bottles behind the man. He sat down the glass he was polishing. "What'll it be, ma'am?"

"Ah... something nonalcoholic," she said, reflexively massaging her stomach.

He nodded understanding. "Got... ah... Sprite." Looking behind the bar, he added, "Coke, too. And some Red Bull, if you hate yourself."

"Coke's fine."

The bartender filled a glass and pushed it over. "Meeting someone?" he asked.

"I hope so," she sighed. "Several someones, if I'm lucky."

[Deleted]

The sudden shaking of the TARDIS stopped, notifying the Doctor that he had reached the origin of the message. He had no idea what awaited him outside the double doors. Just to be safe, he removed the sword Glamdring from its place on the wall closest to the corridor that led further into the TARDIS, and fastened it to his belt.

Additionally, he threw a grey, well-worn cloak over his shoulders. Whatever lay out there may not know of his regeneration, and still thought of him as the Grey Doctor, so that was how he would appear. He chose to forgo the hat, though. He liked his new form's hair.

Stepping outside slowly and cautiously, he found himself in what appeared to be a city. He had been to many cities in his lives, but this one seemed different, mainly because there was more than one TARDIS there.

This confused the Doctor. For a moment, he believed it to be a mere coincidence, but all such notions quickly dispelled themselves when he realised it was in the same shape as his. Not exactly a convenience. Could it perhaps be that this was where the message originated from?

At that moment, a thirst struck against the Doctor's throat, and he found himself wanting for something to drink. How fortunate, then, that he spied a tavern. He walked slowly, as if he were a much older Time Lord, to the tavern.

Once inside, he ignored the looks he received and sat down on a bar stool. It had been a while since he had sat on one of them.

"Your finest ale." he requested, propping his Sonic Staff against the bar and dropping two golden coins on the bar's surface, hoping that would be enough for whatever kind of ale they had.

He noticed he was sat beside a woman who carried herself with an air of sadness, as if she had lost something dear to her. He was curious as to what they could have lost that could make them so sad. Perhaps...

"Did you send a message beyond the barriers of space and time?" he asked, turning to her. "Forgive me for being blunt, but I'm merely curious."

[Doctor Amelia Song]

"Your finest ale," said a bearded old man, leaning a wodden staff against the bar and tossing two coins on the surface. The bartender, named Gordon, picked them up and weighed them thoughtfully in his hand.

Doctor Song, lost in thought and brooding over her soda, glanced up in surprise. The man's voice was familiar. Painfully familiar, even though she'd never heard it before in her life. Had her call been answered?

Gordon drew a tall mug full of a liquid so dark it was nearly black, and handed it to the Grey Pilgrim. "Here you are. A pint of Barclay Perkins Imperial Brown Stout. Only thing better, in my opinion anyway, is sex while drinking it." He glanced over at Doctor Song. "You want me to freshen that up for you?"

"Hmmm..? No, no. Just thinking."

"Did you send a message beyond the barriers of space and time?" he asked, turning to her. "Forgive me for being blunt, but I'm merely curious."

She looked up again, and managed a smile. It was wan and weak, but it was her first real smile in what felt like years (even though, in reality, it had been only a few weeks). "Yes," she managed. "Yes, I did."

The grin grew a little stronger, and she offered her hand. "Doctor Amelia Song. And you are?"

[The Corsair]

The TARDIS landed with a last violent jolt, announcing her arrival with a final clang. The Doctor waited 1.3 seconds then let go of the console, mainly to adjust his thoroughly ruffled hair.

"That was entertaining... in a sort of extreme whiplash way. Right then, sensors inform me that the air is mostly breathable; could be worse."

"Your sense of self preservation is astoundingly botched as always, Doctor. Sensors indicate an extremely unstable environment; do me a favour and don't jump into a puddle of acid wile you're out there, will you.

The Doctor suppressed a smirk and nodded his head:

"Ok pot, this kettle is going to find the one who sent that message. Don't change too many codes and rooms while I'm out."

"Always a great host, you are."

The Time Lord stepped out of the TARDIS, looked around, then inhaled:

"Aaaaah, love the smell of pan-dimensional settlements in the morning. Too bad for the fog.. kinda beats the purpose of sightseeing."

He wandered around, registering the beings going about their business and the various buildings, until he spotted the Munden's sign: good place as any, more likely to find outsiders, not to mention alcohol in case the search didn't get results. The Doctor went straight to the bar and tossed a few currencies on the counter:

"The strongest stuff you have, good chap."

Judging from the hair on his neck standing he was pretty sure he was in the right place - Time Lords were Time Lords no matter the dimension. He turned to the small group and inclined his head in greeting:

"Well, hello hello hello fellow travellers. Is any of you here for the distress message, by any chance? Also by any chance, you don't happen to be the one who sent it, Madam? Glad to see you're not currently as distressed."

[Amelia Pond]

When the TARDIS rematerialized, the Doctor stepped outside and found herself within an alien pub. Well, actually... within the ladies' restroom of an alien pub.

Spinning around to look back at her trusty blue box, the Doctor shook her head and scolded, "For shame! How very indecent! The toilet?!" She tutted and shook her head, and then with a sigh, the Doctor stepped out of the restroom and made a beeline for the bar.

After obtaining a lovely glass of champagne, the Doctor finally deigned to follow her senses to the other Time Lords who had already gathered together.

The Doctor gave a dramatic clearing of her throat and raised her glass, as if she were about to give a toast.

"Darlings!" she exclaimed. "It's so lovely to see you all," she added, complimenting her fellow Time Lords.

"Now! Which one of you sent that distress message? Which one of you is Amelia?" the Doctor asked, looking from person to person, and then she muttered, "Pretty name -- 'bit fairytale, I daresay..."

[Doctor Amelia Song]

The man in grey - the Time Lord in grey, rather - didn't get a chance to answer her question or shake her hand, because even as she spoke others arrived. The first was a hard faced man with a hight forehead, dressed in black suit and skinny black tie. "Well, hello hello hello fellow travellers," he said, chipper voice at odds with his somber appearance. "Is any of you here for the distress message, by any chance? Also by any chance, you don't happen to be the one who sent it, Madam? Glad to see you're not currently as distressed."

"I am indeed," she said, rising with a little effort and shaking his hand. "Doctor Amelia Song. And you are?"

He didn't get a chance to answer, either. Even as he opened his mouth, someone else joined the party.

"Darlings!" she exclaimed. "It's so lovely to see you all," she added, complimenting her fellow Time Lords.

"Now! Which one of you sent that distress message? Which one of you is Amelia?" the Doctor asked, looking from person to person, and then she muttered, "Pretty name -- 'bit fairytale, I daresay..."

Doctor Song grinned. "That would be me, and it's a pleasure to meet you. Now, I've arranged a private room to talk in - Gordon there has been all kinds of generous in offering me a discount." She thumbed over her shoulder at the man behind the bar. "I'm hoping more people will show up, though, because we've got a problem."

[Deleted]

"Ah, then we are both Doctors." The Doctor said as he took a sip of his ale. It was good ale, but nowhere even close to the dwarven brew he had come to enjoy these past few centuries. He drank it willingly, though.

Then the others came in. More versions of himself, it looked like, and far more...what was the word? Far more flamboyant than he. Still, he nodded when Doctor Song mentioned a private room. Back in the middle-verse, he had been overheard more than once when he stayed at an inn.

"I'm hoping more people will show up, though, because we've got a problem."

Problem enough to bring multiple versions of himself together? It must have been a big problem. Something that he could not turn away from.

"What sort of problem?" he asked, sipping the ale.

[Amelia Pond]

"Yes, Amelia," the blonde Doctor added. "Why don't we just go on back to that room of yours, and you can tell us all about it, Darling," she gently urged -- but, not before getting a refill on her drink.

She, herself, could see no immediate problem, here... They were all among excellent company, and there was plenty to drink. So, yes -- what problem?

Oh, wait... There had been that distress call -- from Amelia, herself. She who had gathered them all here.

But, why did there have to be a problem? There was always a problem. Why couldn't just today just be about Fun?

The Doctor sighed and took a long, languid draw from her glass. If they weren't going to be having fun, they may as well get down to business and tackle this problem-thing -- after all, the sooner they began, the sooner they'd be finished. At least, one might assume...

"If anyone else is coming, they're late," she decided, casting a casual glance around the tavern. "The barkeep can send them on back whenever it is they decide to show up, right?"

[Doctor Amelia Song]

Doctor Song grinned. "That would be me, and it's a pleasure to meet you. Now, I've arranged a private room to talk in - Gordon there has been all kinds of generous in offering me a discount." She thumbed over her shoulder at the man behind the bar. "I'm hoping more people will show up, though, because we've got a problem."

"What sort of problem?" asked the Doctor in grey, sipping his drink.

"Yes, Amelia," the blonde Doctor added. "Why don't we just go on back to that room of yours, and you can tell us all about it, Darling." Her voice was nothing like Amelia's Doctor, but it held the same note, the same infuriating quality of being on top of the situation regardless of what that situation was.

Amelia sighed. "I really had been hoping for more of a turnout, first..."

"If anyone else is coming, they're late," she decided, casting a casual glance around the tavern. "The barkeep can send them on back whenever it is they decide to show up, right?"

After a moments internal conflict, she nodded. "Yeah, you're right. C'mon." Downing the last of her drink and signaling for a refill, she wished for a moment that she could allow herself something stronger. Then she pushed back from the table and pushed herself upwards, feeling ungainly as she did. Finally, uncomfortably, she made her way back into the private room.

"Well," she said, trying for a weak joke as the others sat, "I suppose you're wondering why I called you all here."

It was lame, as things went. She didn't even smile at her joke. Instead, she swallowed. Hard.

"About... three months ago, relative, my husband - the Doctor - and I encountered something... strange." She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, trying to block out the memories of that twisting, writhing knot of alien spacetime. "He recognized it before I did, and... sent me back to the TARDIS. Still trying to keep me safe, I think."

She bit her lip, unwilling to cry again. "It didn't work. Within weeks, that whole sector of space was overwhelmed. Within three months, our universe was consumed. By... I don't know what you call it, in your universes. The Elder Gods. Universe-cancer. Ysgaroth. The Dwellers in the Vortex. Whatever." She shuddered, remembering her bare escape as the last stars of her universe were consumed by writhing shapes that had sought to rend the TARDIS as it burst the Source Wall. "And... everything that's ever been written about them says they're coming. That they won't stop until they've consumed everything."

Finally, she slumped into her chair. "We have to stop them. And I don't know how."

[Deleted]

"Yssgaroth." The Doctor repeated. "An evil greater than that of Fenric himself." He knew the evils of the universe and beyond, and he knew them well. It was the existence of such evils that the Istari of Gallifrey had been brought together to combat. This was why he existed.

Of course, there was that nagging doubt within him. He and his fellows had only just survived the onslaught of Fenric. He felt that he alone wouldn't be enough, and it would be hard to convince his fellows, particularly the Master.

Then he remembered that he didn't necessarily need the other Istari, as the other Doctors would aid him. Whether he got along with the others would be another matter entirely.

"We will find a way." he said in a consoling tone, sounding less like an aloof wizard and more like someone's grandfather. "We always do."