by Mark Simpson

Rated T

A new room in the Tardis; old ghosts within. And all the time, eyes watching.

I don't own Doctor Who; the BBC does.

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"Why don't you try and get some rest, Peri? You have had a long day, after all."

Peri nodded. "I'll do that, Doctor." She paused at the door to her room. "Are you going to get some sleep too?"

The Doctor smiled his gentle smile. "I don't need as much sleep as the average humanoid. I'll be fine. See you later."

"G'night, Doctor," called the tired voice as Peri closed the door and headed for her bed.

The Doctor thrust his hands deep into the pockets of his fawn frock coat and set off walking, deeper into the TARDIS. The soothing background hum of Gallifreyan machinery was matched by the Doctor's own humming.

He turned a corner and changed his hum to a whistle. He was happy. He had a reasonably new companion, had come through a number of recent scrapes virtually unscathed and things seemed to be quietening down.

He found himself at a crossroads. Around him were a number of comfortable chairs and pot plants. A rest area. He spotted a rocking chair and walked over to it. Dropping into it, he rocked backwards and forwards a few times. Very comfortable. He should move this to the console room.

The Doctor stood and left the rest area. Turning another corner, he headed deeper still into the craft. He didn't get down here very often these days. Always a crisis to deal with, never time for a good, brisk walk. Up ahead was a door. This in itself wasn't strange, but this door wasn't in the usual roundelled pattern of the other doors in the TARDIS. It looked like solid oak, with a large brass handle. The Doctor walked up to it and placed his hand against it. It gave a slight vibration under his hand. He frowned, running his other hand through his straight blond hair. Seizing the initiative, he pushed down on the handle. The door swung open soundlessly.

The room beyond was totally black. The Doctor ran is hand along the inside edge of the frame, looking for a light switch. He couldn't find one. Grasping his courage, the Doctor stepped into the room. The door swung shut behind him. The Doctor hoped that his eyes would become accustomed to the darkness. They did, suddenly. Harsh white light flooded the room. The Doctor flinched, shielding his eyes. Slowly, the glare subsided. A hazy shape started to form out of the stark whiteness that surrounded him. It seemed humanoid.

Definition sharpened. Colour cleared. Now he could see it was a human female. The Doctor could see her clearly. She was short, dressed in simple clothes and had long dark hair framing her elfin features. She looked at him with wide, trusting eyes. She smiled slightly. "Hello, Doctor. Have you come to help me to the underworld?"

The Doctor's jaw dropped in amazement. No wonder she had been so familiar. He had not seen her for such a long time, but he thought of her often, especially in the dark times. He forced his mouth to move, to speak her name. "Katarina?"

Katarina's smile widened. "You remember me then, Doctor?"

"Of course I do," he gasped. Breath was tight in his chest for some reason. His hearts were beating faster.

"I am a little surprised," The Trojan serving girl admitted. "I thought you didn't care. I thought we were all ultimately disposable."

It took a moment to register that Katarina was no longer talking like a girl from ancient Earth. But eventually the Doctor's mind caught up with his mouth. "What do you mean, disposable?"

Katarina stared at him with open hostility now. "Why not ask her?"

The serving girl was pointing over his shoulder. The Doctor turned, to be confronted by another woman. This one was tall and confident, with shoulder length brown hair. She wore a futuristic looking uniform, with an energy pistol at the hip. She spoke. "Yes, Doctor, that's right. Sara Kingdom of the Space Security Service. You left me for dead on Kembel, all those years ago. Poor Katarina was sacrificed even before that."

The Doctor found his voice. "She was not sacrificed. She gave her life in an act of true heroism, to save others. As did you."

"Is that what you told yourself?" Katarina asked him. "Is that how you justified the fact that you dragged me away from my culture, the world I knew, into a universe I could never understand. Did it ever occur to you that I wanted to die? That I couldn't live in your universe? That it was too alien for me?"

The Doctor looked dumbfounded. "I never considered that," he admitted.

"And what about me?" said Sara. "Yes, my time was more advanced than hers, but your TARDIS was still a culture shock to me. I killed my own brother because I thought he was acting against the interests of Earth. Because he was involved with you! Did you ever think I might not be able to carry that guilt?"

The Doctor bowed his head. "I didn't think of those things, no," he told her. Then he looked up, at the two women, so very different in style and dress, circling him like vultures. "What do you want of me?" he asked.

Sara broke out into a grin. It wasn't pleasant. "We want you to suffer, Doctor."

"We want you to realise the error of your ways," added Katarina.

"I'm not sure I understand," he said. This was all getting out of hand. All he had wanted was a nice quiet stroll through the TARDIS. Not a grilling by deceased companions.

"You must give up this life of yours," said Sara Kingdom. "You must stop collecting companions like people collect butterflies. You must stop interfering in the affairs of other worlds. Accept your heritage, Doctor. Go home."

The Doctor shook his head. "I can't do that," he protested. "Somebody has to fight the monsters, the tyrants. The evils of the universe can't be left unchecked."

Katarina looked at him pityingly. "You have the blood of so many on your hands. They scream for you to stop, to turn away from the life you have lived for too long."

"But if we can't convince you," said Sara, "maybe he can."

The Doctor turned, following her finger, to see a young man, little more than a teenager, dressed in a yellow and red jumpsuit. His hair was jet black. He looked exactly as he had when the Doctor had last seen him.

"Adric!" he exclaimed.

Adric stepped forward, confronting the Doctor. "You left me to die on that ship!" he accused.

"I had no choice," the Doctor replied, backing away from his tormentors. "It was too late."

"Too late!" sneered the boy. "The TARDIS is a time machine. You could have materialised on board before the crash and saved me. But I was becoming an irritation. It was easier to let me die than to keep me aboard."

"That's not true!" the Doctor protested hotly.

"Yes, it is," Adric shot back. "I wanted to go home, but you were not prepared to take the risk of letting the TARDIS pass through the CVE again. Better then to leave me to die than risk your precious ship."

"It's true, isn't it, Doctor?" piped up Sara Kingdom. "You could have used the TARDIS to save us all."

"No, it isn't true. Maybe in Adric's case, but the laws of time wouldn't let me. But when you travelled with me, you know how difficult the TARDIS was for me to steer."

"What's to stop you doing it now, with the better control that has come with age," she asked slyly.

The Doctor was becoming flustered. "Well, like I said about Adric, the laws of time state-"

"When were you ever bound by the laws of time?" Adric interrupted. "You've bent or broken them more times than I bet even you can remember. You're making excuses, Doctor. Excusing your own culpability in our deaths!"

"I deny that. I had no choice."

"Really?" Katarina sneered. "Explain that to him."

Now who? The Doctor wondered as he turned round. He found himself face to face with Kamelion, the shape-shifting companion who had died on Sarn. Died by the Doctor's own hand.

"Yes, Doctor," said Kamelion in that melodic voice of his, "do you deny that you had a choice in my death?"

"You asked me to put you out of your misery," the Doctor reminded him. "To prevent the Master using you again."

"And you were so quick to oblige. No second thoughts at all. No last minute fixes. No alternative ideas to stop the Master resuming control. Surely, given a little more thought, you could have come up with an alternative."

"Events were moving too fast!"

"Ah, the age old excuse. Time." Adric began to circle the Doctor. "If only you had more time."

Now Katarina began circling too, in the opposite direction. "Another chance to get things right."

Sara started following Adric. "But things always happen too fast."

Kamelion joined Katarina in circling the Doctor. "And you are just one Time Lord."

The Doctor was starting to become dizzy. "I regret your deaths, all deaths. But I only do my best. I can't change the past."

"Can't change the past, " chanted Adric and Kamelion.

"Can't break the laws of time, " chanted Katarina and Sara.

The Doctor felt the room spinning. He closed his eyes...

...And when his eyes snapped open, he was sitting in the rocking chair in the rest area. For a moment he was disorientated. Slowly he stood up. "Must have dozed off," he muttered, trying to push the bad dream out of his mind. Then he remembered the last thing he had seen before opening his eyes again. The Watcher. The white wraith that had precipitated his last regeneration.

Before he could wonder what it all meant, he heard Peri's voice calling his name. "Doctor, we've landed." She came into view and smiled at him. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Do I?" he inquired mildly. Then he beamed at her. "Landed? Come on then, Peri, let's make some sandcastles." He put his arm round her shoulder as he led her back towards the console room. "Androzani Minor is lovely at this time of year."