Let me, the TARDIS hummed as if nothing was wrong.

Do what? The Doctor kept his feet on the console and his hands behind his head as he hummed an old Gallifreyan melody.

Let me help him. The TARDIS shook slightly as she began to take flight. Which was still unnoticed by the oblivious Time Lord.

'Wait, what?' he said aloud, finally snapping from his jolly trance and noticing the hum of engines that he'd absentmindedly ignored.

The Time Lord's feet slipped from the console as his concentration snapped to confusion. He struggled to regain balance, bracing his hands on the chair's sides. He briefly managed to maintain his balance before tumbling to the grated floor below.



Consequently, the ancient alien in the brown suit sat up and glanced around at his ship.
I'm fine, slight loss of dignity though. He'd said it with great confidence yet he wondered why he'd mentioned it. It wasn't his voice alone that he heard in his head. There was another; familiar, yet the Time Lord couldn't recall where from.


'What was that for, girl? Are you trying to tell me something?' the Time Lord muttered. The TARDIS didn't answer. It made the witty alien humanoid feel like the daft sod he was as a youngster.

The Time Lord was acting on muttering yet another insecurity but he never got the chance. Just as he made the decision, the world around him began to shake; followed by a strident bang. And then an excruciating agony spread through his skull as darkness surrounded the world.

~


As his mind returned from nothingness and his senses began to return, the Time Lord became aware of the grates directly beneath him. Shortly following; as the numbness subsided, the agonizing throbbing returned. Unwillingly putting aside the pain, the suit-clad man gradually shifted himself to a sitting position.


'Oi! What was that for?' he erupted, ignoring his burning skull. His ship just hummed in response.

'It's like talking to a bloody coffee machine,' he muttered. The Doctor never swore. Ever. It just wasn't him.

'What's happening to me?' the two-hearted man murmured. Wait, the TARDIS voiced.

'Wait? What? For what purpose?' the Time Lord raged, becoming frustrated with the TARDIS' slight smugness. And yet, through all of this, he was altered by his sudden caprice.

You were blind, but now you shall see she sung. The Doctor managed to rise himself into a sitting position. But not for long.




Nearly blindingly vivid images poured into the his mind. His body hit the grates and he felt his body go limp.

If I was blind, then what 'shall I see'? was one of the Time Lord's last thoughts before he succumbed to the bright, blinding images--memories--he thought; finally letting go.

A voice rang out in the silence. The flashes began to transform, solidifying, their moving parts locking in on one particular image; scene--familiar but quite vague around the edges.

The scene evolves, vivifies; his senses are rapidly heightened. It was as if he was-for now-- a small, small part of a lucid dream--a vivid memory of the past--for that's what it was; he knew, somehow he knew.


'...And this is Ianto Jones, Ianto cleans up after us and gets us everywhere on time,' a much-too-familiar voice introduced, although clearly not to him.

'I try my best,' a Welsh-toned voice remarked; and that from a remarkably immaculate man, a young one. A man that seemed vaguely familiar.

'And he looks good in a suit.'

Typical Jack; the grin, tone of voice, facial expressions--all there.But there was something else in Jack, something he'd only seen in him once.

'Careful that's harassment, sir,' said Welshman responded.

The captain, obviously the hero of the story by now, put up a good display, but the Doctor --was-- the Doctor, after all; he knew when something was wrong.



Said voice faded and the surroundings dissolved into a dark, black void of emptiness.



A second scene began to appear; tension; rage; anger; pain-everything. It was all there.
Said scene was different from the previous. The light-hearted mood was gone. It was a separate moment; a different time--filled with hatred and betrayal.


'You may think you're the hero, but you're the biggest monster of all,' it was that Welsh voice again.

His mind raced through the possibilities--concentrating--determined to remember where he'd seen this man before.

Outer space Facebook! Of course. The screen. He was on the screen!

That hasn't happened yet. Not for him, a voice called out from the approaching darkness.

But what happened?

The Cybermen.


The picture appeared as quickly as the last; as did the mood. Except this time, someone new was with him; a co-worker perhaps.


'Jack needs me!' the young man raged. Yet again anger was there, but this time it was accompanied with frustration--doubt.

'Maybe in your sad wet dreams, when you're his part time shag!' his co-worker retorted before turning back to the odd machine and placing a circular piece into place.

A gunshot rang out--evidently from the Welshmen with the gun--as the familiar shadow took over.


'Let's be honest, Jack. I'm nothing more than a blip in time for you,' the familiar voice echoed in the pitch-black void.


Merely seconds passed before the second voice answered.


'You're not just a blip in time Ianto Jones, not to me.'


There was a brief silence--a comforting silence--before a new memory emerged from the cold emptiness.




'It's weird. It's just different. It's not...men. It's... it's just him. It's only him. And I don't even know what it is, really. So... so I'm not broadcasting it.' the well-known Welshman admitted.

'Oh, no, honest, I won't say. If you want it kept quiet, I swear, I won't say a word, I promise,' the woman across from him said.

Sister.

'Aye aye, gay boy, she says you're taking it up the arse.' the newly arrived man blurted.

Brother-in-law.

Once again the scene evolved into a new one--this one with a much darker theme.




'No, no no no... Ianto, No,' the captain held his lover and dropped to his knees '-it's all my fault.'

'No it's not...'

'Don't speak, save breath.'

'I love you...' his lover said, knowing that he was going to die.

'Don't... Ianto, Ianto, Stay with me Ianto, Stay with me please...'

Both men broke then; lover pleaded with lover.

'It was good, yeah?'

'Yeah.'

'Don't forget me.'

'Never could.'

'1000 years time? You won't remember me,' the Welshman sobbed.

'Yes I will. I promise I will... Ianto, Ianto don't go, Don't leave me please. Please don't.'
Jack's own sobs broke as he tried to keep his lover alive.


For the last time, the scene faded; leaving the two men in fragments, different pieces of the same life as the memory began to unravel and the consciousness of the watcher was dragged back to reality.