.oOo.

Doctor Who

{Something Old}

:Chapter Six:

"But...that's the console room..." the Tenth Doctor breathed, staring in wonder through what should have been a simple garden window. "How is that even possible...?"

"There was nothing out there," the Ninth said, shaking his head. "This house is completely cut off from the rest of reality, frozen in time, you shouldn't be able to - "

Astrid snapped her fingers, and suddenly, several windows appeared in the walls surrounding them, two on either side, and another directly behind them. Counting the one at her back, that made it six in total. Each showed the control room from a slightly different angle, all from the middle and facing outward, as if each was hanging over a different panel on the console.

It was as if they were viewing the room from within the Time Rotor itself.

The Tenth Doctor swallowed thickly, and looked up at the girl standing above him with a thunderous expression stamped firmly across her pretty face.

"...Who are you?" he asked, his eyes wide and a fine tremor running beneath his skin as an impossible idea began forming in his head.

"That's my line," Astrid snarled at him. "And I want the truth this time. Tell me you're the Doctor again, and I'll break your nose, you got that? Those versions of the Doctor are gone, and they are not coming back. If you think I'll let you get away with mocking his image, or that I'll spare you just because you're wearing his face, you are sorely mistaken."

"Now - now hold on," the Eighth said quickly. "Listen, you've got it wrong. We are the Doctor, I promise, it's just - just - Oh, how do I explain? The concept of time travel is sometimes hard for people to understand. But, see, it's like...well, a big ball of - "

"How the hell did you get in here?!" Astrid burst out, cutting him off angrily.

"There's no need to be rude!" he retorted.

"It was the TARDIS, she brought us here," the Fourth explained, his wide gaze fixed on the window behind her. After a moment he dug into his pocket for his bag of jelly babies, and popped several in his mouth, chewing slowly as he regarded the girl standing in the sink in her jimjams with a pensive expression.

"...The TARDIS," Astrid said in a flatly disbelieving tone.

"You must have noticed it," the Third said, rubbing his chin as he studied one of the windows with a thoughtful look in his gray eyes. "That big blue box parked in your bedroom?"

"But of course you know all about the TARDIS, don't you?" the Seventh said in a deceptively soft voice, regarding her with sharp interest. "The question is...how?"

"Yes, these windows, they all seem to be looking out from the Time Rotor," the First observed, turning hard, suspicious eyes on the girl. "Some sort of video feed, eh? How long have you been spying on me, hmm? Are you working with the Time Lords?"

"Are you the one that's been messing about with time?" the Sixth demanded, hands planted firmly on his hips, and a stern scowl marring his face.

"Who are you?" the Tenth repeated again.

"Seriously?" Astrid scoffed, her tone sharp and mocking. "You're really playing dumb right now? You actually expect me to believe that you somehow got past all of my firewalls without once realizing who I was? How stupid do you think I am?"

"Listen, if you'll just - hold on. Backup. Firewalls?" the Ninth repeated incredulously, his brows lifting nearly to his hairline in surprise. "Did you say firewalls?"

"Yes, firewalls," Astrid said impatiently. "The ones you had to get past in order to break in here in the first place. Or weren't you paying attention to that part?"

"But...firewalls?" the Ninth said, both brows shooting up towards his hairline in disbelief. "Like, in cyberspace? But that would mean..."

He exchanged a flabbergasted look with the Tenth.

"Are you...Are you actually saying...Are we inside the Matrix?" the Tenth asked in a strangled voice, hardly daring to believe it was possible.

"Of course!" the Fourth cried, smacking a fist into his palm. "Why didn't I think of that? It's no wonder this house doesn't make any sense. But if it's a part of the Matrix, then it makes perfect sense."

"But...that's not possible," the Ninth breathed.

"Oh?" the Sixth said. "Why not? I've just recently visited the infernal place..."

"Yes, it explains everything!" the Second exclaimed, clapping his hands in delight. "Why none of us have regenerated yet, how Time has been stopped, even why the outside doesn't exist - because none of this was real to begin with! It's a digitally generated dreamscape, so anything is possible!"

"Yeah, there's just one problem with that," the Ninth said gravely.

"The Matrix on Gallifrey...doesn't exist anymore," the Tenth finished.

The other Doctors exchanged horrified looks - and then all started talking at once.

"What do you mean, it doesn't exist?" the Fourth demanded.

"Oh, my giddy aunt," the Second breathed.

"Surely you're joking?" the Third said.

"That's hardly something to joke about!" the Sixth cried.

"But how could it be gone?" the Fifth wanted to know. "I mean if the Matrix really is no more, then..."

"...Something must have happened to Gallifrey," the Seventh said, his normally expressive face going stone-cold at the implications.

"H-how...?" the Eighth whispered, turning haunted, broken eyes upon his two successors. Neither could hold his gaze for very long, and dropped their eyes to the floor.

"...Spoilers," the Tenth managed to say past the strangled lump rising in his throat. "And anyway...that's not the important bit."

"Oh? And just what would you say is more important, young man? Hmm?" the First said tightly, gripping the head of his cane so hard his knuckles were turning white.

"I wasn't talking about the Matrix on Gallifrey," the Tenth said, swallowing thickly. "...I was talking about the one in the TARDIS."

Almost as one, the other Doctors blinked in startled realization...and then slowly turned to look at Astrid.

Astrid, for her part, rolled her eyes in annoyance, and began a sarcastic slow-clap.

"Oh, yes, well done," she drawled. "You figured it out. Of course, seeing as the only way you could have gotten here was to break in, past at least a hundred different security measures, you clearly knew that already. So you can drop the act now, you're not winning any Oscars."

"No, wait, hold on," the Tenth said, shaking his head in disbelief. "You...you're the TARDIS?"

"Yes," Astrid said, exasperation stressing her tone.l

"My TARDIS?" the Tenth cried.

"The Doctor's TARDIS," Astrid corrected through gritted teeth.

"It's not possible," the Third breathed. "The Matrix on Gallifrey could be accessed, but not the one on the TARDIS. Not in this way, at any rate..."

"Even if it could, the TARDIS is still just a machine!" the First said. "It's a ship, nothing more. And certainly not...not some young girl!"

"Oh, what would you know about it?" Astrid snorted.

"I beg your pardon, but I certainly know more about it than you possibly could," the First sniffed, drawing himself up indignantly, and reached up to clasp his lapels with both hands. "The TARDIS may seem to be alive in some aspect, and equipped with a bank of very sophisticated computers, but it has no intelligence of its own. It is a means of transport, young lady, not a person. And even if it were, I very much doubt it would behave as you have, in such a violent, rude, and ungracious manner!"

Astrid raised a delicate brow and stared the old man down for a long silent moment.

Then she kicked the tap on with the heel of her foot, raised the sink nozzle, and sprayed a jet of ice cold water straight into his face. He let out a shocked cry of sputtering outrage, staggered backwards into his Third self, and tried vainly to block the deluge with his hands. Astrid didn't stop until she was satisfied that he was thoroughly soaked.

"Would you like to run that by me again?" she asked evenly, while he stood there dripping and gasping.

"There was no call for that!" he shouted, face red with anger.

"I think there was every call for that," Astrid tossed back. "Besides, I'm violent, rude and ungracious, so you shouldn't have expected anything less."

"Now see here, you little hellion - stop laughing this instant!" the First barked, catching sight of his Second self, who was trying to hide a wide grin behind his rumpled coat sleeve, and his Fourth self, who was openly chuckling.

"I'm sorry, my dear old thing," the Fourth smiled down at the First. "But I'm afraid you couldn't be more wrong. The TARDIS isn't just a machine, and she is most certainly intelligent. And if our young friend here is telling the truth, well...I think you might just owe her an apology." He turned his head, and glanced at Astrid, peering up at her from beneath his thick, curly hair. "Are you telling the truth?" he asked.

"Why the hell would I make up something like that?" Astrid demanded, throwing her hands up impatiently.

"To gain information," the Sixth interjected, eyeing the nozzle in her hand, but lifting his chin defiantly when she turned it at him. "We don't know for certain that we're actually inside the TARDIS Matrix. For all we know, this is some kind of trap."

"No, that's what you're doing," Astrid retorted angrily. "You've broken in here pretending to be the Doctor in order to infiltrate my systems, and you actually have the brass to accuse me?"

"Can you prove you're the TARDIS?" the Sixth asked, cocking a brow.

"Excuse me, but you're the trespassers here. I don't have to prove a damn thing!" Astrid snapped.

"Language," the Eighth admonished.

"Fuck you, it's my house!" Astrid exploded. "And I'll fucking say whatever the bloody hell I goddamn please!"

"Now, hold on, there's no need to - " the Tenth began.

"You'll get a right smack-bottom in a minute, if you keep on with this appalling behavior!" the First threatened.

"Yeah?" Astrid growled with a challenging glare. "I'd like to see you come over here and try it, you wrinkled old geezer. You smell like you could use another bath."

"Wait just a - " the Tenth tried again.

"Why, I've never met a more vulgar and insolent child in my entire life!" the First cried. "If I were your father, I'd be absolutely ashamed!"

At that, Astrid went chalk white with rage. Her gaze glittered for a moment like shattered glass, hands fisted at her side, and her spine stiff with fury. Then she seized a plate from the cupboard and whipped it at his head like a frisbee. The First ducked out of the way with a sharp cry, clutching the front of his shirt as the plate smashed against the wall with a loud crash.

"Get. Out," Astrid hissed.

"If I had the ability to do so, believe me, I would be more than happy to!" the First replied hotly.

"Well, you seem to have gotten in just fine!" Astrid snarled. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out!"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" the Tenth bellowed, stepping in between the two, and pushing the First back with one hand on his narrow chest. He gave his younger self a hard, Oncoming Storm glare when the man tried to object - making him close his mouth with a snap - and then turned that look on Astrid. She merely raised a brow, folded her arms, and waited.

"Now look," he said. "I understand you're angry. But we aren't going to get anywhere like this. So let's just all calm down, and talk about this, alright?"

"Fine with me," Astrid replied. "You can start by explaining who you really are."

"...Why won't you believe I'm the Doctor?" the Tenth wanted to know.

"Because you're not," Astrid said stubbornly.

"Yes, alright, but why?" the Tenth pressed.

Astrid rolled her eyes skyward, as if seeking patience, and huffed out a frustrated sigh.

"Because you can't be," she began. "Yes, you're inside the Matrix, and the only way the real Doctor could be here was if I scanned his memories upon the moment of his death, and uploaded his brain-pattern through the telepathic circuits. However, I haven't done any soul-catching lately, and - oh, yes - the Doctor is still very much alive."

She rapped her knuckles against the window-pane, through which they could still see the frozen console room. The Tenth swallowed thickly, and nodded, eyes wide. She had just described how the Time Lords uploaded their own minds into the Matrix on Gallifrey, had even used the somewhat more fanciful, and therefor less well-known, word for the process.

"Furthermore, activating the Doctor's digital imprint while his current self is still alive isn't possible," Astrid continued. "It would be like updating a program and running it at the same time. It can't be done. What can be done, on the other hand, is for someone to make a false copy of the Doctor's memories, and use that fake persona to infiltrate my systems."

"How many people have tried that?" the Ninth asked.

"A lot," Astrid snorted. "They've all failed so far, but if they were to take over, the Doctor - the whole universe, really - would be at their mercy."

"Yes, I can see the problem," the Fourth murmured.

"And...that's what you think we are?" the Tenth said. "Imposters, with false memories?"

"That's the likeliest possibility."

"But then...how can we prove we're telling the truth? That we are the Doctor?" he asked.

"There's nothing we could say that couldn't have been pulled from a stolen memory," the Eighth realized.

"We still don't know if she's telling the truth," the Seventh cut in softly. "If this is a trap, then giving away too much information about ourselves would be a very bad idea."

"Too true..." the Third nodded. He shared a look with his otherselves, and a very brief mental conversation passed between them like static electricity. They nodded after a moment, and looked at the Tenth.

"...If you really are the TARDIS," he said slowly. "Then you should know my name. My Real Name. Tell us what it is...and we'll tell you whatever you want to know."

Astrid paused, silently considering him for several seconds. If he had stolen the Doctor's memories, then he would already know it. If not...well, then, he wasn't a very good copy. And if telling him would make them more cooperative...

Internally, she checked her Artronic reserve. It was still recharging, and would probably need another day at least before she was at full power again. All she had to do was hold them here until then. After that...

"...The Doctor's Real Name is Forbidden," she said finally, watching the Tenth closely. "It was struck from History eons ago, but it is still written across the stars, for those who care to look. It's unpronounceable in High Gallifreyan, but in the common language, the Doctor is known as Theta Sigma Lungbarrow."

At that, the First nearly choked, and sank into the nearest chair on shaky legs. The Second put a hand to his lips, his eyes wide. Beside him, the Third had gone very pale and very still. The Fourth ducked his head, and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. The Fifth stuffed his hands in his pockets, and let out a long, slow breath. The Sixth's spine straightened, and his eyes were gleaming brightly. The Seventh simply put his chin in his hand thoughtfully. The Eighth's lips pressed into a thin line, and he linked his hands behind his back to hide their trembling. The Ninth's expression was tense and somber, gaze locked on Astrid. The Tenth was visibly shaking.

Astrid wasn't finished.

"Theta Sigma to indicate the Ouroboros constellation, the dragon that eats it's own tail. The Eye of the Dragon is a nebula, called the Medusa Cascade. However, from Earth's perspective, it is known as the Orion Nebula, and makes up the sword in the constellation of Orion the Hunter. And finally, Lungbarrow, the Loom House the Doctor was raised in."

She cocked her head. The room was intensely silent.

"Eye of the Dragon, Sword of the Hunter. That was the name the Doctor saw burned across the cosmos when he stared into the Untempered Schism. The Name he has been running from all his lives." Astrid tilted her head. "Shall I go on?" she asked softly. "Or is that enough proof for you?"

The Sixth swallowed, and shook his head jerkily, his hands trembling.

"No," he said in a strangled voice. "That's...that's quite enough."

"Are you sure?" Astrid said sweetly. Dangerously. "I could tell you why the Doctor really stole a TARDIS and ran away. Or why he became the Doctor in the first place. Or why - "

"That - that won't be necessary," the First said quickly, putting his hand out weakly, as if to ward her off. His eyes were very wide, and his expression was pulled tight. "I...that is to say, we...we believe you."

"...You're the TARDIS," the Tenth said breathlessly.

"Now you're getting it," Astrid replied with a cold, mirthless smile.

"And you...don't think we're real?" the Tenth said, his shoulders slumping as his wide eyes fell to the floor.

"Sorry," Astrid muttered, grimacing. "But you're not."

"But...but if that's true, then you were right - there should be a prevention against that sort of thing!" the Tenth protested, shaking his head. "Firewalls, protections, antivirus software! I installed all of that ages ago - Or, I remember installing it. If we're really imposters, then why haven't you purged us from your systems?"

Astrid shifted uneasily, and looked away.

"TARDIS," the Tenth said, his voice urgent and strained. "Why haven't you?"

"My name isn't TARDIS," Astrid deflected, still refusing to meet his gaze.

"Oh," he said, taken aback. "Then...what is your name?"

"It's Astrid," she said. "And I'll be asking the questions from now on."

To Be Continued...