Doctor WHO: The Continuity of One by Ion Light - HTML preview

was. It is a true thing to say, the Doctor is a really good listener. He hears people. He hears

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people deeply, usually hears them beyond words. Composing one’s self under that level scrutiny is like coming upon a stage suddenly to find a full auditorium staring apprehensively at you, and in that reality, you had only come from the lavatory and taken a wrong turn, and you’re lucky it

isn’t a dream where you find yourself also naked, and then a spot light clicks on and then there is moment, a brief second when you think, ‘fuck, I lost it all,’ but somehow you work it into the

act. Jon closed his eyes and sorted.

“OMG,” Jon said. “Loxy didn’t prepare me for how intense the scrutiny of the Doctors

would be.”

“Jon, we got you,” Peri said.

Jon looked to Peri, and was grateful. She was always more kind and loving than she gave

herself credit for.

“Judgment from the Doctors or the Companions, is not something I would wish on

anyone,” Jon said, he turned, in their mist, taking in all their eyes. Rose smiled kindly, as if she felt sympathy. “Alright, here we go. Humans used to regenerate. We had two hearts. We were a

species that was male and female. At some point in our history, we were divided. A foreign

agency, or we did it to ourselves, it doesn’t really matter at this point. What does matter is we diverged, becoming male and female. We still lived a thousand years, regenerating, or renewing,

however you want to look at it, switching genders, and faces, and becoming a spectrum of ages.

Relationships were much more complicated way back when. Until the guardian angels arrived

and tried to force continuity. These guardians, they’re not like the weeping angels. Maybe

kissing cousins. Maybe they’re not actually angels. Maybe they’re tulpas. Maybe they’re

Daemons. You know how many people reported having one? You should really read Anthony

Peake’s books. Anyway, every human has one assigned to them. They are with us, silently

watching us, all the time. They are with us for all eternity. They exist in our shadows. They live off the energy of movement. The Unruh Effect is a real thing, and they feed off that, and

sometimes they’re nice, and they help us out, sometimes they sabotage our lives. They’re kind of

human, in that they’re good and they’re bad and they’re emotional, and you have heard stories of

people who have had very direct encounters with them, like Blake, and Dick, that’s Phillip K

Dick, the author, he writes loads of stuff on time continuity issues, oh, and Joan of Arc; her angel loved her. Sorry. Back on track. At the end of the human life, right when we’re about to

regenerate, these weeping angel want-to-bees harvest a feast of our regeneration energy, sending

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us back in time to the beginning of our lives where we do it all again in this thing called the Eternal Return and they happily continue to feed in our wake. The harvest of feasts wipes our

memories.

“Maybe each time they improve our lives because they’re bored, or because they want us

to live longer, but in the end, they send us back. We live for all eternity stuck in one moment,

one life time. They send us back so much that the forced amnesia can’t wipe it all out. We get

flashbacks. Déjà vu is the feeling you get when the angel of death is breathing on your neck. We

get delusions of grandeur not because we’re psychotic but because all us are really much more

wondrous than we were ever taught or allowed to believe, and even grandeur doesn’t last

forever, and it can be chased with a dose of despair. Taste despair and amnesia becomes your

best friend. I bet, even now, if you allow yourself to think about it you can feel something. The hair standing up on the back of your neck. That’s your invisible companion, breathing on your

neck. They’re not happy with disclosure. Not sure why. I don’t think we can do anything about

their existence. We have all been together so long now we actually need each other. Symbiotic

relationship. If you live in dysfunctional long enough, it becomes the norm, and then sanity is

actually crazy. But why, I hear you asking. Why is this so?!

“That’s easy. Earth is a prison camp for Time Lords. Weeping Angels are Time Lords

that escape the end of the Universe by quantum locking their state which sent them back to the

beginning of the Universe. The Weeping Angels sent the enemy Time Lords to Earth, where the

lesser angels kept them from living out their full incarnations. Every now and then, a prisoner

comes up for possible parole, or release due to good behavior. And that, my dear people, is the

Doctor’s function. He is not the Doctor. He is the Warden.”

“This is pure rubbish,” the Doctor said.

“I know, it’s so hard to swallow. Fan fiction sucks ass, especially when it’s better written

than anything Hollywood puts out and they’re embarrassed about that, at the same time, they’re

also borrowing from fan fiction, because their writers were zombified years ago. Seriously. 50

Shades of Gray. Fanfiction. Why do you think they keep turning out remakes? I’d much rather

watch BBC than Hollywood. ‘Allo, ‘Allo, Waiting for God. Those were great shows, or are they

just more metaphors I am throwing out?” Jon asked, pondering as he spoke. “Oh my head hurts

so. Sorry. Forget the white rabbit. Here’s the thing. Things. More than one thing. I’m drawing

really close to that final statement. The White Void is where all the good Dahleks go when they

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die, and they become the white robots, controlled by the master. All the bad Time Lords, when they fail to regenerate, they go to the dark void, and join the Lonely Assassins. As long as

they’re in the dark void, they can interact with each other just fine, make babies, whatever they do in the dark, because you can’t freeze what you can’t see. The White Void and the Dark Void

are in constant state of flux. A constant state of war. There is an energy conversion layer at the boundary of the dark and white voids. This is the Land of Fiction, the worlds between wars. The

Citizens of the Land are manifestations of the archetypal energy manifest in the war, and they are innocent bystanders drawn up into a reality they did not ask for. They’re just looking for an out from the Long Struggle. That so called pocket universe is a mirror of Origin. Earth is the world

between two warring nations, Time Lords versus the Dahleks. One is either engaged in fiction, or

the war, but both fiction and war keep us all enslaved. As above, so below. Our fiction is both a healthy respite from the war, and it is a distraction. Our fiction becomes their reality. Once a line of fiction gets started, it has to play itself out. Every human being touches that world, shapes it, influences it, sometimes causes it to spawn a new, completely tangential universe, and there are

levels of contribution, which keeps the war going. This is so because we’re all doctors, with a

little ‘D.’ We are all players, agents in the game. Even here, the war has been held in check by

continuity directors and copy right lawyers, which on the front of it all seems like a fair way to allocate resources and ensure people get their due credit, but in truth, once a song is in a brain, the damage is done. It can’t be contained. It’s bigger on the inside.

“Unfortunately, and ultimately, there are two paths we can go: we can go the way of Star

Trek, which, in its’ original pre Bergman pre Abrams form, was a utopian vision, or we can go

the way of Mad Max, which is a dead end, extinction level event. Facts versus fiction.

Fictionalized facts versus fictionalized reality. Fake news, fake science. Humans will be the

playing field for this last battle. We are in a fight for our very minds. The deciding factors: will there be more loving, kind folks, or more hateful, vengeance sort of folks. In all of this, I can only think of one Ace Card to throw out on the table to shift the odds. Actually, it could be the death card. That is okay, if you believe that the death card doesn’t necessarily mean death, but

instead means change, which makes it a really good card to have and throw down.” Jon had to

take a breath from his rant.

“Do you always talk like a madman?” Leela asked.

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“Oh, stark raving mad,” Jon said. “But, I think you’ll all appreciate my card. It’s the

Doctor.”

“That’s your clincher. You wasted all our time to tell us that?!” Zoe demanded.

“No,” Jon said. “I told you all of that so you can understand what you’re up against. It

doesn’t matter if you believe it or not. But know this. The gates to the Land of Fiction have been opened wide. Everything I just told you is fan fiction. I know this because, I am the author. As of three months ago, nine thousand, seven hundred, and twenty two copies were downloaded.

Assume half of those people liked it. They passed it on to friends and family. They’re all like,

this is the best fan fiction ever, which is kind of nice, and I enjoy the occasional nice fan mail, and this one guy built me a replica of TARDIS and left it in my front yard! It’s actually a clever book share. I love that guy. Anyway. Assume the other people absolutely hated it and just

deleted and went on about their lives. Assume half of those that hated it detested it so much that they actively rebelled and left nasty comments and started writing hate letters about my

grammar, my age, my looks, things that I did with my mother, which is really just bad form, not

even relevant, and or, threatened to blow me up, which actually happened in the other time lines.

I am not disparaging them; their anger is valid because their world line is changing and they

don’t want to give up on their version of reality, but they don’t understand fighting for consensus usually just causes more divergence; fighting the fiction feeds the Land of Fiction. Running

doesn’t work, either. You can’t run from these monsters because you take them with you

wherever you go.

“And it’s snowballing. It doesn’t stop with just the book. Two of the fans performed

scenes from it, posted them on youtube and they went viral. Very much like the Doctors in the

Hunger Games world. Very clever. Kind of funny. Sorry. Sad, very sad world. Copy right

lawyers tried to shut it down which just brought in more viewers. Someone in the UK wrote an

article about rape not being a comic relief plot contrivance to push a story, and certainly

shouldn’t make a character more endearing, which is absolutely right but only got more people to

download it. It started selling on Kindle, against my wishes. Hollywood is fighting with BBC to

make an American spin off of the Doctor. Jon and Loxy. No, that sucks. The Counselor! No, too

preposterous. Oh, I know. I/Tulpa and the Worlds of Crossover. You guys are like seriously

screwed. I am not gloating. I really didn’t know what I was getting into when I made a tulpa. I

am willing to help undo some of the damage, but, I am like really attached to Loxy, and so I

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can’t undo her, and I may have to fight for the other team’s right to exist, which is complicated, because there are some seriously nice characters over there, even children, and though I really

don’t want weeping angels and Dahleks or even Darth Vader in my world, maybe it’s a

necessary evil. The proof of that this is all real, that we are caught up in this never ending war, is that every time the Doctor has a chance to end the war, he doesn’t. Conversely, the Dahleks have

had an equal number opportunities to end the Doctor, and didn’t kill him. Conspiracy? Maybe.

Plot contrivances? More likely. Which means, what, we’re already in the fiction! This is all a

dream! Does anyone have twenty dollars?”

Any serious person might have completely dismissed Jon as a raving lunatic, much less

ever entertained such a long drawn out rant. What gave his immediate audience pause was that

there was elements of truth, history, and things to sort. No matter how nice and neat you fold and pack away separate cords, if you put them in the same drawer they always come out entangled.

The fact that the Doctor, and all the companions, have encountered so many outlandish threats,

they couldn’t dismiss the rant a hundred percent. Zoe and her Doctor particularly and recently

gone up against the Master and the Land of Fiction, and so it was fresh in their minds.

“May I kill him now?” River asked.

“No,” the Doctor Wife said.

“You will come with me and turn yourself into the authorities for breaking and entering,

and rape,” Leela said.

“Now, hold on,” the Husband said. “The TARDIS is my property, too, so breaking and

entering isn’t quite accurate.”

“We have jurisdictional rights over our individual TARDISes to prevent future

incarnations from interrupting the flow of the timeline,” Zoe’s Doctor said.

“How would you explain that to the authorities? He broke into your ‘what?’” River

asked. “If someone steals your TARDIS or robs it, that’s on you for not taking better care of your ride. As for the rape, just kill him.”

“Marry me, and I will protect you from the females,” Poke said.

“Kill him,” River said.

“You could have wiped my memory, but you didn’t, why?” Leela asked.

“Because I don’t run,” Jon said.

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The sound of another TARDIS arriving drew their attention. Loxy was the first one out of the TARDIS. She ran to Jon and hugged him, kissed him, and then pulled back to talk.

“Did I miss the speech?” Loxy asked.

“Yeah,” Jon said.

“Ah, I really like the speech,” Loxy said.

“Do you really?” Jon asked.

“Oh, absolutely,” Loxy assured him. “It is a bit wordy, and sometimes feels a bit preachy,

but you do it so enthusiastically, and that’s the best part. Holding up?”

“I had brain surgery,” Jon said.

“Really cool brain surgery,” Loxy said.

“How did you know?” Jon asked.

“We watched it on the telly,” Loxy said, which wasn’t inaccurate, but it was just enough

of an explanation to keep him from pursuing the deeper truth of it.

Rory joined Jon and Loxy. “Where’s Amy?”

Jon pointed to the Husband’s TARDIS, and Rory would have gone, but Jon took his arm.

“Hold up,” Jon said.

“I don’t want to know,” Rory said.

“Rory,” Jon said.

Loxy mouthed the words. “He didn’t.” Jon wanted to respond, ‘seriously?!’

“I don’t want to know,” Rory said.

“Rory, do you trust the Doctor?” Jon asked.

Rory gave pause. “Sometimes,” he said.

“With your life?” Jon asked.

Rory was hesitant. “Yes. Sometimes.”

“I am not the Doctor. I lie. I cheat. I steal. But today, I know something, and I need you to

wait here, beside me. When I tell you to go, you go straight to the TARDIS and you don’t look

back,” Jon said. Rory seemed hesitant. “This is important. More important than anything you can

ever imagined. Trust me. The continuity of the one must be preserved at all cost.”

Rory looked to the TARDIS, looked to Loxy, and made a choice. He stayed. Loxy’s

Doctor, nick named Hugh, stood by his TARDIS apprising the situation, even as the next

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TARDIS arrived. Clara exited the TARDIS and she came straight to Jon and Loxy, followed by her ‘companion,’ dressed as a high end waitress in an Armani, Space tux waitress uniform.

“I don’t know what all the fuss is about,” Clara told her companion. “She looks nothing

like me.”

The Husband pointed to the companion in the tux waitress costume. “Oh, I remember you

now! You’re Astrid,” the Husband said. “Look, Rose. I told you about her.”

“No you didn’t,” Rose said through clenched teeth.

“Astrid, how have you been?” the Husband asked.

“Slumming it,” Astrid said.

“Excuse me?” Clara asked.

“Who is she to you for real?” Rose demanded.

“Just Astrid,” was the best the Husband had.

“Astrid Peth, the woman you said died saving your life on Christmas?” Rose asked.

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” the Husband said scratching his head. “I sort of remember that.

Refresh my memory. How did you get out of that?”

“I didn’t,” Astrid said.

“I don’t understand,” Jon said.

“She fell, I caught her,” Clara said.

“Still not clear,” Jon said.

“Let it go,” Loxy said.

“I was a companion contender that failed to take,” Astrid said. “What happened, Doctor?

Did you not like me?”

“Oh, it wasn’t me,” the Husband said.

“Slumming it?” Clara asked

“I was working a space luxury liner when I met him,” Astrid said, pointing to the

Husband.

“You can’t just throw space in front of something and make it sound grander. A waitress

is a waitress. We have some fantastic clientele and you get to keep your tips,” Clara said.

“You’re right, I am Sorry. It’s just, I really fancied him,” Astrid said.

“Isn’t he just the greatest,” Loxy agreed.

“Oh,” the Husband said. His “Oh,” was a lot softer and nicer than Rose’s “Oh!”

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“He’s my Husband,” Rose added.

“We share the Doctor, don’t we?” Astrid asked, looking for the ‘tells’ being telegraphed

between Clara, the Husband, and Rose.

“No,” Rose said.

“Well, they did let me keep my uniform,” Astrid said. “It super stain resistant.”

“It looks great. You look great. It’s great to see you,” the Husband said.

“That’s enough greatness,” Rose snapped.

“Oh, there is never enough greatness in the world,” Jon said.

Loxy kissed him. “I missed you.”

“Wait! You fell?! To your death?” the Husband said, suddenly remembering it all.

“Yes, Doctor,” Clara said. “From your perspective, she fell. But I was there to teleport

her off. That’s what I do. I help the Companions and all of those who help the Doctor. I also run a mystery diner. But helping the companions is my full time job. We are putting together a

Consortium of Companions. It was Jon’s idea, really. The Doctor can’t be there for everyone all

the time. When the Doctor fails, the consortium is the insurance plan. Everyone and anyone who

has ever died helping you, gets a second chance.”

“You admit to violating the time line by removing people from their timeline?” Zoe’s

Doctor demanded.

“Yes. No. It’s complicated. From the perspective of the time line, no violation has

occurred. The person or persons in question are shifted over to a nice little quiet spot where they can live a nice pleasant life,” Clara said. “Some of them come to work for me. Not me, precisely.

We work for each other. We are the Consortium of Companions. None of ours will die alone,

wishing we were back in the care of the Doctor. We are standing on our two feet. We even have

really cool signet rings.”

“This is your doing,” Zoe’s Doctor said, pointing to Peri’s Doctor. “You were always to

cavalier in the companions you chose, which clearly has affected our future lives.”

“Cavalier?” Peri asked. “You think he chose me just for my looks?”

“The Doctor would never be romantic with his Companions,” Zoe’s Doctor said.

Rose looked to the Husband for confirmation. “I was much older then. Still rather

enamored with the Victorian mindset.”

Four more TARDISes arrived.

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“What is all of this?” Leela’s Doctor said.

Angela emerged from one of the TARDISes, followed by Amy’s Doctor. Amy’s Doctor

paused, and spoke to someone unseen in the TARDIS. “You’re already here, so you should

probably just stay inside.” He closed the door and approached. “Oh, good, I always love a family

reunion.”

“How can you have a family reunion of one?” Loxy asked.

“You just stand around talk to yourself?” Jon asked.

“Oh, that’s clever,” Loxy said.

“Companions are family,” Peri said.

“Of course, Peri, thank you,” Loxy said. “Are we officially companions yet?”

“I think that’s still being deliberated,” Jon said.

“Oh, wait wait wait, let me get this straight,” Amy’s Doctor said. “You’re Loxy. You’re

my Clara. And you are… I am sorry, do I know you?”

“I am Astrid,” Astrid said. “Who are you?”

“I am the Doctor,” Amy’s Doctor said.

“I thought he was the Doctor,” Astrid said, pointing to the Husband.

“Astrid, I thought I caught you up to speed. He is the Doctor, and him, and him, and him,

and I don’t know him or her, but based on their dress we can assume they are also Doctors. That

is Rose’s Husband,” Clara said.

“Hello, Rose. It’s great to see you,” Amy’s Doctor said.

Clara continued: “He was never the Doctor. He’s the clone of the Doctor with all the

memories of the Doctor, and the Doctor probably treat him too poorly. Is he here? The real

Rose’s Doctor?”

“Not yet,” Loxy said. “And I prefer him, actually.”

“And what’s wrong with me?” Amy’s Doctor said.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s the forehead, and the wave of hair that brings me back to the

forehead, and I just want to hit it with the palm of my hand,” Loxy said.

“This is getting very complex and hard to track,” Jon said.

“I know, right,” Loxy said.

“It’s not just faces, the history is a bit convoluted,” Jon said.

“I know. But hang in there,” Loxy said. “You’re doing great.”

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“I demand an explanation to all of this,” Peri’s Doctor exclaimed.

“Why does everyone always demand an explanation? Why can’t we be like Jon and just

all go with the flow and just appreciate the moment for what it is before it explodes into chaos?”

Clara asked.

“I love you,” Loxy told Clara.

“I love you more,” Clara said.

“Why have the others not come out to join us?” Jon asked.

“Oh, it’s a time thing,” Loxy said.

“Yeah, things are about to get really weird,” Clara said.

“Weirder than this?” Rose asked.

“Can it get weirder than this?” the Husband asked.

“Oh, seriously, never ask that,” Clara said.

“How weird?” Amy’s Doctor asked.

“You can’t have this many Doctor’s and TARDISes in one reality frame and not expect

some weirdness. You know that much, don’t you?” Angela asked.

“My whole life has been weird and it seems to be getting weirder,” Jon said.

“That’s because you’re the one,” Clara said.

“I am the one?” Jon asked. “I can’t be the one.”

“You’re still the one,” Loxy said. “For now. The one shifts about a nit. Kind of like a

game of tag. Anyway, right now, time is starting to bog down around you, as you’re the

epicenter of the Event; you can only put so many temporal elements into one scene at one time

before things start getting convoluted, but you’re the designated fixed point, which means

sometimes you’ll get these huge flashes, updates, and then sometimes, and mostly this, things

will seem to just trickle into your awareness, and sometimes just when you think all is lost- that thing you need the mo