A Mad Man in a Box (Doctor Who)

***A Mad Man in a Box*** is the first episode of the first series of *Doctor Who* produced by *The 56Studios*. It marks the first appearances of the characters of the Twelfth Doctor and Clara Oswald.

## Story

Clara Oswald did not know what was happening.

Everything had happened so fast, even though she knew it had actually been hundreds of years. She and the Doctor had arrived on Trenzalore, and found the rift to that led directly to Gallifrey. After this, all of the Doctor’s enemies in all the universe had come to lay siege on the planet to get to the Time Lords.

After this revelation, the Doctor had tried to send her away. Instead, she got trapped in the time vortex for hundreds of years before reappearing back on Trenzalore. There, she found that the Doctor had aged, and that he was dying. He told her that he was out of regenerations, and that that this was the end of his life. Then, he had sent her away again.

By the time Tasha Lem had come for her, the Doctor was about to die. The Daleks had taken command of the Siege of Trenzalore, and were about to end it, permanently.

The Doctor, weak and tired, stood to face the Daleks. A last stand. But, Clara, not wanting to let the Doctor die, begged the Time Lords to do something – anything – to save him.

Which they did. The Time Lords granted the Doctor a new set of regenerations, an act which closed the rift. The Doctor immediately regenerated, destroying the Dalek fleet with an awesome display of power.

After the destruction of the Daleks, the Doctor had disappeared. Going to the TARDIS, she found the phone hanging from the door. Inside the box, she found the Doctor, young and alive. She thought that he had been able to restore himself instead of changing.

She was wrong.

The Doctor told her that he had to change, that it was time. After a thousand years of war, it was time for him to start anew. She tearfully protested, and he tried to comfort her, but then it happened.

He changed.

The man – the Doctor – she knew was gone. The young man had been replaced by a much older one, with gray hair and a lined face.

And now they were hurtling through the vortex, without any control of the TARDIS.

“How do you not know how to fly?” Clara asked as she stumbled around the console room.

“I don’t know! Don’t you normally fly?” the Doctor replied, randomly flipping switches. “Because I really don’t know how I could ever fly this.”

She grabbed onto the console. “Are you serious? You’ve really forgotten?”

“Yes, and a few other things. What’s your name again?”

The ship shook violently again as the Doctor hit several more random controls. The lights in the room flickered as the engines wheezed.

“You could remember before! Why can’t you now?” Clara held onto the console as the spun around her.

“It’s not like I can control what’s in my head or not!” he replied, slamming a lever down.

Sparks flew from the controls, forcing Clara to jump backwards. He continued working, recklessly pressing buttons and hitting switches in an attempt to take control of the rogue ship.

“I thought you said that you could control this ship with both your hands tied behind your back!”

“That was obviously a clever lie to impress an easily-impressed girl,” the Doctor said.

She stopped, her expression darkening. “*What*?”

“Don’t worry about that right now!” he said as more sparks flew from the controls. “We’re crashing!”

He moved to to pull for another lever when the TARDIS lurched again, causing the Doctor to be thrown headfirst into the console, knocking him out cold. Slowly the ship stopped shaking and Clara ran over to the unconscious Time Lord. She looked up at the console and saw it flicker.

Looking at him, she saw that he had a large mark on his forehead, which glittered away a second later. Seeing that the Doctor was okay, she collected herself, stroked the hair out of her face, and walked over to the other side of the console. Wiping tears from her eyes, she came to a small device inserted into the console and pulled it out.

The Doctor had used this device to send her back home from Trenzalore to save her from the siege.

Tears streaking from her face again, she reinserted the device and it sparked briefly before the TARDIS began moving again. She watched the panels above the console rotate. Clara looked back down at the unconscious form of the Doctor, scared by what he had become. The man she had known and loved was gone, and replaced by this new, unknown man.

What had happened? She knew that regeneration caused him to change every part of himself, but she didn’t think it would have turned him into *this*.

This is not what she had wanted.

She sat down on one of the chairs on the outside of the main level and silently stared at the Doctor, unsure of what had happened and unsure of what was to come.

“Sir please give me another few weeks,” the scraggly man pleaded as they walked back towards the tall building.

“Daniel we’ve poured thousands of pounds in your project, and after four months you’ve made no progress,” the man in the fine suit said. “Harnessing clean energy that way is just not possible.”

“But I have made progress, sir, and it is possible” Daniel adjusted his glasses. “I’m almost at a breakthrough, but I don’t have the necessary funds to do it-.”

The man sighed. “You’ve made no substantial progress. No physical progress except all the lost money. We’ve agreed that you’re done. I’m sorry, but you’re just not the man to change the world.”

“So I’m…?”

“You’re fired,” he said decisively. “Pack up your things. Your contraption will be re-purposed to actually something useful.”

The man in the suit then left him outside the doors to the building. It began to drizzle before the rain started to pour down.

Half an hour later he was in his laboratory clearing out his desk, his paperwork, personal effects, and the broken pieces of his dream.

This machine could end the power crisis. Unlimited clean energy and billions of changed lives. He knew that it was a bit of a money pit right now, but if they truly wanted to fix things, they would realize that it was worth it.

As he picked up a mug that had the company’s logo on it, he was filled with an overwhelming rage and chucked the cup across the room. It shattered into a million pieces on impact. Daniel leaned on the desk, breathing heavily.

Suddenly he heard a voice that seemed to come from all around him.

“You don’t need their money,” they said in a perfect monotone.

He swung around, looking for the speaker but could see none.

“Where are you?”

“That’s not important right now.”

“Who are you?”

“*That’s not important right now,*” the monotone speaker insisted.

“What do you want?” Daniel swallowed.

“I want you to finish your project. I want you to change the world.”

“But I don’t have any money. The corporation took my funding.”

There was some kind of screech. “That won’t be a problem.”

Suddenly the lights flickered for an instant. When they came back there was a large duffel bag on the desk. Looking hesitantly at it, he pulled back the zipper and found that it was filled with several thousand pounds. He almost gagged in surprise.

“Will this be sufficient?” the voice said.

Daniel struggled for speech. “More than enough!”

“Then get to work.”

“But, who are you?” he looked up from the bag.

“Someone who wants to see you succeed,” the voice replied.

“Yes, but *who*?”

They paused. “That you will find out in due time.”

Involuntarily, he gulped. This was too bizarre for him to accept. He didn’t know who this person was, or what they really wanted in helping him. It wouldn’t be right for him to accept.

On the other hand, he now had the funds to complete his dream, and to change the world. How could he sacrifice that just because of some mysterious donor.

“Okay,” he finally said.

“Good. Now get to work,” they repeated.

Slowly the TARDIS materialized into existence outside Clara Oswald’s apartment building in Coal Hill. A moment later the door swung open and Clara and the Doctor stepped out. Clara was supporting the Doctor as he struggled to stay upright.

The Doctor had calmed down and wasn’t as out of it as he had been, but he was still not the Doctor she knew. Clara pulled open the door to the staircase and she helped him ascend up to her apartment. She unlocked the door as the Doctor leaned against the wall, almost unconscious.

She helped him into her apartment and into the living room where he collapsed onto her couch, unconscious once again. Clara stepped back and looked at him, her hand over her mouth. She didn’t know what to do. Despite knowing that the Doctor could regenerate and having seen every one of his incarnations up to this point, she didn’t know what to do when he actually changed.

Leaving the room, she closed the door and took a deep breath. Looking down at her clothes, she saw that they were dirty and that she needed to change. Glancing through the door at the Doctor again, she then walked to her bedroom, went into her closet, and pulled a change of clothes.

After taking a quick showers and putting on her new clothes, she walked back to her living room to check on the Doctor. He was still asleep on her couch. She sighed.

“I need you, Doctor,” Clara said to herself before closing the door again.

Looking over to her land line, she saw that the orange light was on. She pressed the button on it and the machine informed her that she had four new messages. As the messages began to play, she realized that they were all from her father.

“*Message one:* Clara where are you? We haven’t seen you since you left on Christmas. Are you okay? Call me back,” her father said.

“*Message two:* Clara are you okay? You haven’t replied to any of my calls and texts. Where are you?”

“*Message three:* Clara it’s been five days and we still haven’t heard from you. Are you ignoring me? Are you okay? Call me back.”

“*Message four:* Clara answer me. If you don’t respond by the end of the day I’m going to send in a missing person’s report. Call me back.“

“*End of messages.*”

She pulled out her phone and looked at it and sure enough she had several texts from Dave Oswald. Looking at the date, she saw that it was January First 2014. The device must’ve glitched and sent them ahead a week. Quickly dialing her father, she held the phone up to her ear.

“Dad?” she asked as she heard someone pick up on the other side.

“*Clara? Where have you been? Are you okay?*” her father sounded relieved to hear her.

“Yeah I was just away.”

“*And you didn’t have your phone?*”

“It died,” she lied.

Dave sighed. “*Where did you go? Somewhere with your boyfriend?*”

“Yeah. But he’s not here anymore.”

“*What happened to him?*”

“He...” Clara looked towards the closed door to her living room. “Changed.”

“*How did he change?*”

Clara sighed. “He just wasn’t the man I fell in love with anymore.”

“*But are you okay?*”

“Yeah dad I’m fine,” she insisted.

“*Do you want me to come over?*” Dave asked. “*I think I can get your gran to come over too, if you need.*”

“No. I think it’d be best for me to be alone right now,” she replied.

“*Are you sure?*”

“I’m sure.”

“*Alright, but I want to talk to you again soon,*” he father conceded.

“Okay. I love you.”

“*I love you too,*” he said before the line went dead.

Clara wiped a few tears from her eyes and set the phone down next to her land line and leaned against the wall. The man she had loved was gone and was never going to come back.

For the past few days after he had been fired, he had resumed work on his device. His new ‘partner’ had supplied him with all the funds he could need for the project and he would surely be able to complete it within the week. While he had literally no idea who they were, and he had no reason to trust them, it was his only opportunity to change the world for the better. The risk was worth it.

He finished securing the tube in place.

“I think that’s enough for today,” Daniel said, stepping back to admire his handiwork. It was a thing of beauty, a technological marvel. The generator would hopefully be able to generate enough clean energy to power most of Europe.

Suddenly the screeching voice surrounded him again.

“What is your progress?” they hissed.

He nearly jumped at the suddenness, but he knew better.

“It is going smoothly,” he replied. “This is going to change the world.”

After a moment’s silence, the voice spoke again.

“Turn it on.”

“What?” Daniel exclaimed.

“Turn it on,” the voice repeated.

“I can’t,” he said, looking around. “It’s not ready yet!”

Suddenly the lights flickered and he felt something cold, like stone, wrapped around his throat. He was held there, unable to move or glimpse his capture.

“I am the only reason you are able to complete your project. You do as I say. Turn it on,” the voice hissed. “Or I snap your neck and all your dreams die.”

Then the lights flickered again and the being disappeared. He gasped for breath. Not wanting to risk agitating them further, he hesitantly made his way over to a control console on the other side of the room and began flipping switches and turning nobs. He typed a password into a keyboard readied his hand on a lever.

Daniel looked at the device in the center of the large laboratory and, reluctantly, pulled the lever.

A few seconds later the large device in the center of the room, which was a metallic pillar with hundreds of wires exuding from it and was topped by three large rings, began to glow blue before the rings began to spin. The light began to grow before the resulting energy was so bright that he had to cover his eyes as streaks of raw power shot out of the orb, striking various parts of the laboratory.

Seeing the destruction that his creation was beginning to cause, he flicked several switched and turned the nobs back to their original positions before pushing the lever back up. A moment later the light faded and the spinning rings came to a halt.

“Beautiful,” the voice screeched. “You may continue your work at the break of dawn.”

“It’s not supposed to do that,” he said, having seen the results.

“Then fix it.”

He nodded and almost felt the presence of the being disappear from the room. Grabbing his coat and throwing it over his shoulders, he moved to leave the lab, turning off the lights as he did.

But what he didn’t notice was that the clock above the doorway had begun to tick backwards.

His eyes shot open before he rolled off the couch and looked up. The world was spinning around him, or was he spinning around it? He didn’t know. The man’s head hurt and his twin hearts were beating faster than they usually did.

Steadying himself on the coffee table, he stood up but nearly lost his balance. He caught himself on one of the chairs in the room. He pushed himself up and looked around.

What had happened to him? He could barely remember a thing. All he had were flashes of a life, a life not his own. Or was it his own? Not knowing always made him frustrated. How would he know that?

“Rose Tyler. Jack Harkness. Sarah Jane Smith. Mickey Smith. Martha Jones. Donna Noble. Amy Pond. Rory Williams. River Song. And...” he exclaimed before the door burst open.

“Doctor!” Clara said running over to him and catching him as he lost his balance again.

“Clara?” he looked confused.

“Doctor, what’s wrong?” she asked, worry filling her voice.

“I don’t...” he looked down at his hands as they began to glitter gold. Clara looked at them too.

She turned back to him. “I thought you already regenerated?”

“Did I? That would certainly explain some things...” he closed his hands as the light faded.

He took a deep breath and exhaled, golden energy issuing from his mouth.

“I was feeling a little strange...”

Suddenly he toppled over and Clara barely managed to catch him before he hit the ground. Heaving him up, she helped him into one of her chairs. He fell into in and held his head in his hand, like he had a headache, which he probably was. The woman sat down opposite him, looking at him with a confused and worry-stricken expression.

The Doctor looked up at her. “What is it?”

“It’s just...” she said, struggling to find the words. “It’s just… what happened?”

“What happened?” he raised one of his eyebrows. “I changed, didn’t I? Regeneration.”

“Yeah, I know that, but… what happened to *my* Doctor?”

He stared at her. “*Your* Doctor? What happened to him? He’s me. Don’t you see that?”

“You don’t look like him.”

“Obviously I don’t. He specifically is gone.”

“Gone?”

“Gone. I thought you would have understood that, having been in my timestream and seeing all my past selves. You even met Sandshoes and Grandad,” he answered.

“I just thought that...”

“That you would have him restored to his handsome young self when you begged the Time Lords to give me a new set of regenerations? Instead of him becoming me?”

“No, that’s not what I meant...”

Suddenly he stood up, startling her. “Well, he’s not coming back. I’m the Doctor now, whatever that means.”

Clara stood up as well. “You certainly don’t sound like the Doctor.”

“I know,” he said, anger in his voice.

“Then who are you supposed to be?” she replied, tears in her eyes.

His face turned from fury to sullen. He took a step back, looking at the ground before he returned to her.

“I… don’t know yet.”

“You don’t know who you are?” she wiped her eyes.

He sat back down. “I know I’m supposed to be the Doctor, but that doesn’t mean I know *who* I am. I could be anyone. I could be funny. I could be grumpy. I could be a cook. I could be a rock star. I could be a bus-driver, even.”

She took a deep breath, before sitting back down. “How can I help you?”

The man pressed his palm against his forehead, closing his eyes tightly.

“I need to get to the TARDIS… the Zero Room...”

“Zero Room?” Clara repeated.

“Yes. It’ll help me recover from the side-effects of the regeneration.”

“Alright,” she stood up and held out her hand. “Let’s get you to the TARDIS.”

Looking at her, then her hand, he took it, and she helped him up. Supporting him, Clara helped the Doctor across the room back to the door. They came out into the hallway, and he almost knocked over several items in her apartment. The two were close to the door when the Doctor suddenly stopped, looking at a mirror next to the door.

“Who is that horrible old man?” he said, staring at his reflection.

She was a little confused. “That’s you, Doctor.”

His eyes widened as he got a closer look, examining his features.

“Really? That’s me?”

Clara nodded.

“This is… not good. I mean, look at that!” he pointed to his eyebrows. “You could fit elephants under there and have them use it for shade! You could take bottle caps off with those. And those eyes… those eyes… they’re staring into my soul!”

“Your eyes are staring into your soul?”

“Yes!” he replied. “And that hair… so gray. I’m an old person, Clara!”

“Well, you *are* over two-thousand years old, aren’t you?”

He looked at her. “That doesn’t mean I need to look it!”

“Come on, let’s get you to this Zero Room,” she rolled her eyes.

Exiting her flat, they made their way over to the stairs and slowly descended them. Coming out at the bottom, they crossed the field, Clara holding the Doctor up. The sun was setting again, the TARDIS silhouetted against it. They reached it and the Doctor fell against the door.

Pulling out her key, the woman opened it and led the man inside. He held onto the railing as he made his way towards one of the staircases that led to the lower level. Upon their entry the TARDIS beeped happily and the lights flickered, welcoming them.

She assisted him in descending the stairs and into the hallway that led deeper into the ship. They traveled for a while before reaching a fork in the corridor.

“Which way?” Clara asked.

“Left,” the Doctor answered before stopping. “Or right.”

“That doesn’t help me.”

He shut his eyes and held his head, concentrating hard. “Well, I know it’s either left or right.”

“Left or right are the only ways we *can* go.”

“We’ve got it narrowed down, then,” he looked at her.

She stared at him. “Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” the Doctor glared at her.

“Nope.”

“Good,” he said. “Because I hate jokes. They’re terrible things, and I think you should hate them, too.”

“I’m not going to not make jokes, Doctor,” she replied.

“I’m implementing a new rule: no joking on the TARDIS. Or around me.”

She pushed his arm over her, crossing her arms as he caught himself on the wall. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Hey,” he said. “I thought you were helping me get to the Zero Room.”

“That’s what I would like to do,” Clara answered. “But I don’t appreciate you being so difficult.”

“You can’t blame me for what has come of your begging the Time Lords to give me more regenerations,” the Doctor pushed himself up. “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it dearly, but you can’t be angry with me for what I’ve become because of it.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means stop blaming me for your actions.”

“So you’re saying this is who you are now?” her voice cracked.

He shrugged. “It’s looking that way.”

“Then I don’t think I can travel with you anymore,” she stepped away.

The Doctor looked up at her, his pale blue eyes wide. Pushing himself up a little more, he tried to plead with her.

“Clara...”

“No,” she snapped. “If you’re going to treat me like this, I can’t travel on the TARDIS anymore.”

“This is the most irrational thing I’ve ever heard,” he said, starting to walk towards her.

“You’re calling me irrational?”

“Absolutely!” he spat.

Tears formed in her eyes as she turned and ran down the corridor, her footsteps echoing as she went. He watched her go, watching as her shadow vanished from sight. Rubbing his forehead again, he turned back in the direction of the Zero Room, and continued on.

What had he become?

“Work faster!” the voice screeched again as the man tried to attach the coupling.

“If you rush me I could get it wrong and kill everyone!” Daniel yelled in response. “This machine has the capacity to both create enough power to fuel the whole continent and to turn it to dust!”

“You imply I care what happens to other humans. I barely care what happens to you.”

He looked up. “Don’t you want this device to work?”

“Oh, I do,” they said. “But that doesn’t mean I need to care about you.”

Daniel glared into the dark, despite not knowing where his owner was. He continued his work, attaching another cable when he noticed something about the device. Dropping the cord, he looked around into the shadows.

“What is this?” he pointed at a strange piece of machinery attached to the core of the machine.

“I made a few modifications. Nothing to worry about,” the voice replied.

“This is my machine. It’s my job to be concerned about it,” he said defiantly. “Now, *what is it*?”

“A device I acquired from a Time Agent I came across. She’s dead now, of course. I need this machine to make it work.”

He stepped away from it. “A Time Agent? What the hell is that?”

“They’re time travelers, you idiot,” the voice screeched. “Get back to work.”

He looked at the machine. “No.”

There was silence before it responded again. “What?”

“I said no.”

“Then you will die.”

Daniel held out his arms. “Then do it.”

Nothing happened, just the empty darkness. This caused him to smile.

“Very well.”

Suddenly two gray clawed hands grasped his head and twisted it violently to the right, a quiet but sharp snap sounding out before he dropped to the ground, the light gone from his still open eyes.

“You’ve done all the work I’ve needed you to do, anyway,” the angelic figure said, gazing at the device with their cold eyes. “I can do the rest.”

The Zero Room was a large, domed, circular room, with roundels similar to those in the console room. It was arguably one of the most important rooms on the ship. Separate from the rest of the TARDIS, the Zero Room also existed severed from the rest of the Universe. Therefore, some of the laws of physics no longer applied here.

Stepping inside, his footsteps echoed around the room. He walked to the center, closed his eyes, and concentrated. A moment later he was being lifted into the air and began to turn. He exhaled as he was laid horizontally in midair, a trail of golden energy leaving his mouth.

This room had been used by several of his previous incarnations, mostly after a difficult regeneration. His Fifth and Ninth incarnations had used it in particular, and the Doctor who fought in the Time War had used it after being injured in battle.

As he laid suspended, he felt as if everything around him was fading away into blackness. Slowly, he experienced the sensation of being turned vertically again.

He gasped as he opened his eyes and looked around, seeing that everything in sight was submerged in shadow. The only light seemed to be on him, which allowed him to see his features but nothing else.

“Hello?” he called into the darkness.

There was silence.

Suddenly a voice came from behind. “Hello, Doctor.”

Whirling around, he saw that an elderly man stood before him, with an Edwardian dress sense about him. He held his lapel as he gazed at him, his blue ring shining in the glow that radiated from him.

“Who are you?” the Doctor asked.

“I think you know the answer to that question.”

He turned away from him, holding his head. “No. No no no. You can’t be here.”

“And yet, you are here,” his form shimmered, becoming a middle-aged man with a similar dress sense, but much messier.

“If you are here, then so am I.”

“You,” the Doctor said.

“You,” the man said.

He stepped forward. “What do you want?”

“To remind you,” he replied.

“Remind me of what?”

The man’s form shimmered before becoming a man in his late fifties with gray hair and wearing a velvet suit with a frilled shirt.

“To remind you of who you are,” the man said.

The figure changed again, this time into a man with large curly brown hair and a ridiculously long multi-colored scarf.

“And to remind you of who you’re supposed to be.”

“I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean,” he replied.

Shimmering again, he was replaced by a young man in his late twenties with a piece of celery attached to the lapel of his long beige-colored coat.

“That’s why we’re here. To help you remember.”

The Doctor walked around the darkness, circling the man. “Why do I need to be whoever you want me to be?”

He smiled as he changed into a taller man with curly blonde hair and a patchwork coat, which hosted many vibrant colors.

“Because the universe needs you to be.”

“No,” he said. “I refuse.”

Rippling, a short man with a brown coat, hat, scarf, and umbrella, took his place. “It is your duty to defend the universe, Doctor. It has always been.”

“Duty? Who do I owe a duty to?” the older man argued. “From what I remember, I’ve saved the universe enough times.”

The man nodded before he shimmered into a man in his mid thirties with short brown hair, jeans, a white shirt, and a blue leather coat. “True, but it is what you have pledged yourself to.”

“I have not pledged myself to anything!” he snapped, pointing his finger at him. “You’re the ones who have pledged yourself to such a thing!”

“And it is your duty to continue to protect the universe,” the man said, being replaced by a man in his early forties, with a tight buzz cut and a black leather jacket. “Otherwise it will fall into chaos.”

“Why must it be my responsibility to fix the universe?” the Doctor argued back. “Why must I risk my life – give my life – for the rest of the universe’s mistakes?”

“Because you are the Doctor,” a tall, slim man with spiky brown hair, a blue suit, and a long brown overcoat said. “And it is your job to heal the wounds and scars across time and space.”

“You say that I must save the universe, but what has the universe ever done for me? For us?” he spun around. “What has the universe given back? All it has done is take.”

Finally, the man morphed into his previous incarnation, dressed in the same clothes he was wearing now.

“True,” the Eleventh Doctor nodded. “But that is the price for keeping the universe safe. The price for being the Doctor.”

The Twelfth Doctor stepped backwards, holding his forehead with his left hand.

“No. No I can’t,” he said. “Not anymore. Not again. I’ve given too much for this wretched reality, and I can’t give anymore. I can’t.”

In front of him, the man disintegrated, disappearing into particles. He looked around the darkness, trying to find where he went.

“Go on, then!” he yelled into the shadows. “Leave me! Leave me alone like everything else has! That’s what the universe has done to me! It’s taken everything from me!”

After several moments of silence, an old, gruff, voice came from behind him.

“Perhaps, but that doesn’t mean you should give up.”

Turning around, he was disgusted to see who was standing there.

“Why are *you* here?”

The old man raised eyebrow. “Am I not part of you? Were you not once me?”

“You don’t deserve to be here,” he retorted. “You gave up the mantle of Doctor.”

“And here you are, trying to do the same.”

The Doctor shook his head. “You have no right to tell me who I’m supposed to be.”

“I have *every* right to tell you who you’re supposed to be,” the old man snapped back. “I’m the one who was the Doctor when no one else could be. I’m the one who put the universe above his own interests. I’m the one who did what needed to be done.”

“And what does that have to do with me?”

“Because you’re the only one who can be the Doctor.”

He turned away. “No. Not again. I’m tired. I’m worn. I’ve been broken too many times by this ungrateful universe. I’m done.”

“I know the feeling.”

“You know nothing of suffering. I’ve experienced everything you have tenfold!”

The other Doctor shrugged. “Maybe. But you can’t let that pain control you. You can’t let it blind you from the need right in front of you.”

“What do you mean?”

“There is a disruption in the time continuum, one that could destroy the very fabric of the universe. It’s here, in London. And you’re the only one who can stop it.”

Looking around, he watched as all his previous incarnations shimmered into view. All twelve of them looked back, as if waiting for his response.

“Yes. You’re right. It is it my duty to protect the universe,” he said finally. “I am the Doctor.”

Opening his eyes, he was nearly blinded as the bright white lights from the Zero Room flooded into his eyes. Landing on his feet, he bolted out of the room and down the corridor, back towards the console room.

What had she done wrong?

She had spent the last half-hour sitting on the top deck of the console room crying. Usually this wasn’t really her thing, but she had reached the end of her rope.

Clara hadn’t felt this hopeless and empty since her mother had died. Not that this was the same, but in a way it very much was. She had lost someone she had deeply cared about, and while the Doctor was still here, he was definitely not the man she knew.

The woman wiped the tears out of her eyes and tried to regain herself. At this point, she didn’t know what she was going to do. Was she going to stay with the Doctor? He was such a different person now, and she wasn’t sure if she could keep traveling with him anymore. She had said that she was going leave, but she didn’t know if she had really meant it.

She knew couldn’t just abandon him. Despite how he acted, Clara knew that he was lost and confused and that he needed her.

It was hard, though, especially after how he had treated her. She wasn’t sure if she had the strength to bear any more of it.

The sound of someone running down the corridor brought her out of her thoughts. Looking up, she saw the Doctor burst back into the console room. He rushed up to the control console and began flipping switching and pulling levers. The ship shuddered as the engines started up, the familiar groaning echoing through the room.

Coming down the stairs, she joined him at his side. She looked up at the rotating panels overhead.

“Where are we going?” she asked over the wheezing of the engines.

“London,” he replied. “There’s a problem.”

“A problem? What kind of problem?”

He turned to her. “The kind that needs the Doctor.”

She smiled. “That’s good to hear.”

The TARDIS jerked as it flew through the vortex.

“Does this mean you know who you are?” Clara asked.

“No,” he said, looking down. He looked back up.

“But I know who I’m supposed to be.”

As the blue box materialized in the darkened room, the ground shook as energy crackled in the room beyond. The door opened and the Doctor and Clara exited.

“What’s going on?” Clara asked as she grabbed onto a desk for support.

“It’s started!” the Doctor replied, pulling out the Sonic Screwdriver.

Suddenly a bolt of energy shot out of an open doorway where blue lights were flickering wildly. The Doctor scanned the doorway with the screwdriver. He then pulled it back and examined it.

“These readings… they’re impossible.”

“What does it mean?” Clara asked.

“The end of everything.”

The ground shook again and the two of them rushed forward through the door and were blinded by a ball of swirling blue energy in the center of the room, streaks of energy arching from it. The Doctor quickly pointed his screwdriver at it and began to scan.

“No… no...” he muttered as he looked at the readings.

“Doctor!” Clara suddenly called from behind a desk.

Quickly he ran over to her and saw a corpse at her feet, his eyes open. The Doctor knelt down and examined him.

“Did the machine kill him?” she asked.

“No, his neck was broken. He was murdered.”

He stood up and looked at the ball of energy.

“This isn’t a time machine,” the Doctor said grimly. “It’s a paradox machine.”

“What does it do?” she came to his side. “Besides make paradoxes?”

The Doctor turned to her. “Think of this as a rock thrown into a pond. This machine sends ripples through all of time. Past, present and future. And those ripples become tidal waves and before long all of time is disrupted. And then different times start flowing together, creating an endless series of paradoxes before time itself collapses.”

“So who made it?”

He looked down at the corpse. “I’m assuming this man did.”

“Why would he make a paradox machine?”

Shaking his head, he examined the contraption. “This looks like it was supposed to generate clear energy, but it’s been heavily modified.”

“But he created the base machine?”

The Doctor nodded.

“And he was killed for it,” she said.

“I think he was used by whoever killed him.”

“And who would that be?”

“There’s only one type of creature who would need a paradox machine like this...”

Suddenly they heard a noise across the laboratory and looked up to see a figure standing there, clothed like an angel with their arms outstretched, a smile on their face. Clara quickly realized that they were also made of stone.

“A Weeping Angel,” the Doctor said.

“What?” Clara looked at him. “Like those things in the snow on Trenzalore?”

He nodded. “Only a Weeping Angel would need a paradox machine of this scale.”

“You cannot stop me, Doctor,” a screeching voice suddenly rang out.

“I see you’re back to stealing voices again,” the Doctor replied.

“How else would I communicate with this imbecile here?” they both knew the angel was indicating the body they had found.

“You used him to design the paradox machine,” he said.

“He made the majority of the design, I only made a few tweaks to meet my… purposes.”

The Doctor looked darkly at it. “You need a paradox machine because you’re hungry and you’ve been separated from the pack. A lone wolf stranded in the tundra.”

“Yes.”

“I’ve met several scavengers of your kind throughout my lifetime, but these are truly desperate times and desperate measures for you.”

“I will survive. I will always survive,” the voice screeched.

“You’ve got no idea how many times I’ve heard that one,” the Doctor muttered.

In a flicker of light the angel pointed at them, its teeth bared. “Now you will not stand in my way, Doctor!”

“If you know me, then you know that’ll never happen,” he said. “I’ve met creatures all across this universe who wanted power, control, and to harm anyone who got in their way. They used terror to get what they want and oppressed all those who stood up to them.

“But, they all fell. All of them. And you want to know why?” he smiled, baring his upper teeth.

The Weeping Angel said nothing.

“Because I’m the Doctor,” he said. “I stopped them, and you’re not going to be any different.”

The Doctor pulled his screwdriver and pointed it at the glowing orb but in a flicker of light it was suddenly knocked from his hand and thrown across the room. He looked up and saw the Weeping Angel holding Clara by the neck with its sharp claws held only inches from her.

“Doctor!” she struggled.

“Let her go!”

“No,” it said. “I will not surrender to you!”

“You really don’t want to do this,” he growled.

“I hold all the cards, Doctor,” it sneered. “You’re powerless.”

He took a confident step forward. “Not while I’m still alive.”

There was a flicker of light, and it’s expression became a smile. “Then die!”

A flash of light blinded him for a moment beofre he felt an intense pain in his stomach and cried out as something twisted inside of him. The Weeping Angel was now in front of him, its dead eyes looking into his.

“Doctor!”

He managed to look down and saw that the angel’s hand was wrist-deep in his torso, a smile upon its stone lips. The sight made him chuckle.

“Rule number one when attempting to kill a Time Lord,” he smirked. “Never try when they’re still regenerating.”

As if on cue, his hands began to glow with golden energy and he looked down to see the same radiating from around where the lonely assassin was inside of him.

“It hasn’t been a pleasure,” he smiled before he exploded with energy. Even the Weeping Angel was not fast enough and the blast of pure, destructive power destroyed its stone form, breaking it into little more than dust.

The light faded as Clara got back up and ran over to the Doctor.

“Are you okay?” she asked desperately as he leaned against one of the desks. Clara looked down at his wound and saw that there was a hole in his shirt ringed with blood, but that his skin was good as new.

He smiled at her. “Regeneration is a fifteen-hour cycle. In that time I physically cannot die. It comes in handy.”

She helped him up as they looked at the spinning orb of energy, which was now beginning to lose control.

“How are we going to shut it down?” Clara asked, grabbing the Sonic Screwdriver off the floor and handing to the Doctor. “Using the Sonic?”

“It’s too out of control,” he said, moving to the console. He began adjusting the settings but nothing was happening. “The singularity is self-sustaining now. If we can’t close it, all of time and space will begin to shatter.”

Worry spread across the woman’s face. “So what do we do?”

The Doctor stroked his chin before looking up.

“If I fly the TARDIS directly into it, I can close it from within and undo any damage it has already caused.”

“What will happen to you? How will you get out?”

He began to walk back towards the TARDIS, her following in his wake.

“Oh I’ll be fine,” he waved her off. “Done it a million times.”

The Doctor reached the blue doors when Clara put her arm across them, staring at him with her big brown eyes.

“No you haven’t.”

“You’re right I haven’t. But I have to try otherwise everything ends.”

“Well don’t think I’m not coming with you. You’ve left me behind too many times over the last nine hundred years.”

She smiled. They looked at each other for a moment before she moved out of the way and they both entered the TARDIS. Once inside both raced towards the console and the Doctor began flicking switches and pulling levers. The ship shook before it began to float into the air. The blue box spun forward, crashing through the wall that separated the two rooms and flew towards the singularity.

“Here goes nothing,” the Doctor said, pushing a lever forward.

The TARDIS lurched as it flew forward towards the spinning ball of energy. The Doctor and Clara braced as they struck the singularity head-on. The room spun violently as they made contact, throwing them away from the console.

Fighting to grab hold again was like fighting an earthquake. The console room was spinning faster than a top and Clara’s head felt like it might turn into slush. To her right the Doctor hit several buttons on the console as it sparked before putting his hand on one of the levers.

“And...” she heard the Doctor say. “Now.”

Tugging the lever down, the lights flickered as the TARDIS shook. Outside the energy surrounding the blue box began to shimmer before being drawn into ship. The ship jerked one last time as the remainder of the energy was absorbed into the TARDIS.

The lights inside faded back to normal as the Doctor and Clara pulled themselves from the console, getting their balance back.

“Let’s never do that again,” Clara leaned against the railing on the border of the main deck.

“We’ll see,” he replied.

The Doctor turned back to the console and pressed several buttons before pulling the lever. The ship wheezed and groaned as they disappeared into the depths of space and time.

“Where are we going now?” she asked, joining him.

“I think now it is time for a change in attire,” he said, indicating the hole in his waistcoat and shirt as well as the blood around it.

“Yeah, this old thing is getting a bit ratty,” she brushed off his shoulder. “Although I will miss this,” Clara tugged at the coat.

“Times change” he replied.

Together, the two walked down one of the stairs of the console room and into the doorway. Together they wandered through several corridors before coming to a large silver room with dozens of racks of clothes lining the walls. The Doctor went over to one and began looking through the various shirts, pants, coats, and other accessories that hung there.

“Hm...” he stroked his chin. “Let’s try this.”

He grabbed several sets of clothes, all differing in their styles and colors. The Doctor threw them on the floor in front of him.

“Do you want me to, like, wait outside?” Clara blushed as the Doctor began taking off his old clothes in front of her.

“Oh, yes,” he replied. “That would be preferable.”

She quickly spun around and left the room as she heard clothes drop to the ground behind her.

Clara stood outside for several minutes before the door slid open and the Doctor stepped out.

“Alright,” he said. “How do I look?”

Clara looked at him and saw that the Doctor fully dressed in his new attire, which consisted of a pair of dark gray pants, a white-collared shirt, a dark gray waistcoat, and a velvet coat with red lining. He had his hands in his pockets, and was striking a pose. Surprisingly, it worked very well for him. She smiled brightly as she looked at the velvet coat.

“Like the Doctor,” Clara said.

The Doctor looked down at his new clothes. “I thought that was the idea.”

Minutes later they had returned to the console room and the Doctor was now flicking switches. Another moment later they were back in Coal Hill in front of Clara’s apartment building.

“There’s just a few things I need to take care of,” Clara said as she headed towards the door.

“Yeah, I’ve got a few more things to do as well.”

She smiled and walked out the doors. Clara need to call her dad and tell her that she was going to be gone for a little while, but that he didn’t need to worry about her.

Stopping and pulling out her phone, she was about to dial her father’s number when it suddenly rang. Looking at the caller idea, she saw that it read ‘11’.

Her heart skipped a beat upon realizing what it meant.

Answering, she quickly held it up to her ear.

“Hello?”

“*Hey, Clara,*” a familiar voice said.

“Doctor? Is that you?”

“*Yep. It’s me,*” the Eleventh Doctor replied.

“How are you-?”

He chuckled softly on the other end of the line. “*I’m calling from Trenzalore. Right before I change. Or changed. Whichever way it is.*”

She remembered the TARDIS phone hanging onside the door.

“Why are you calling?”

“*Because, Clara, no matter how strong you are, it’s okay for you to be afraid, and I know that you’re afraid of who I have become.*”

She stopped because she knew he was right. He seemed to pick up on this.

“*Yes, and how terrified you are is miniscule to how he feels. He is scared to death, and he needs you to help him through this. He needs you now more than ever. I need you know, more than ever.*”

To her left the TARDIS door opened and the Doctor stepped out, looking at her.

“Is that the Doctor?” he asked.

“*Is that the Doctor?*” his previous incarnation asked.

“Yes, yes it is,” she answered to both.

“*Blimey, I sound old,*” the Eleventh said. “*And gray. Please don’t tell me I become gray*.”

Clara was about to answer that when he stopped her.

“*Don’t answer that. Spoilers,*” he cut her off. “*But Clara, I need you to help him -* me *– because he does need you, and you need him. I need you to be strong, Clara. I need you be strong, my Impossible Girl.*”

She smiled. “Yes. Yes I will.”

“*See you around. Miss ya.*”

Hearing the click of the Doctor hanging up, she turned to the man looking at her from in front of the TARDIS.

The Doctor stroked his chin. “So, what was that about?”

“I think you know.”

He nodded slightly. “I suppose I do.”

She walked up to him before suddenly hugging him. He seemed to stiffen, and didn’t hug her back like he used to.

“Clara, I don’t think I’m really a hugging person anymore.”

“You don’t really have a choice,” she replied, still hugging him.

After several moments, she let him go.

“Alright, let’s get going,” she said, stepping into the TARDIS.

“Weren’t you going to call your father?” he asked.

Clara shrugged. “I can do it another time.”

He shrugged and followed her into the TARDIS. Stepping into the console room, he saw her looking around the room. The aqua lighting had been changed to orange, providing a warm glow to the room. Around the upper deck several bookshelves had been added into the walls every few feet. Around the lower half of the room were dozens of glowing-yellow rings.

“Ah, you’ve redecorated. That was quick,” Clara said, admiring the new lightning and additions.

“It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while.”

“I don’t like it.”

The Doctor looked around the console room himself. “I’m not sure I’m entirely convinced of it myself.”

“Now that you’re all changed,” she leaned on the console across from him. “Where next?”

“So you still want to travel with me?” he asked, looking at her from across the console.

“Yes, I do. Because I know that you’re still the Doctor, and I know that while you’re different, and the man I knew is gone, you’re still him, in a way. Plus, I know that I could never, ever, give this up.”

He smiled, his top teeth showing, before stepping around the console.

“Well,” he looked at her with his silvery blue eyes. “I believe, in the words of my predecessor, the saying goes: all of time and space. Everything that has ever happened or ever will; where do you want to start?”

She smiled. “Someplace awesome.”

“That’s what I like to hear” he said, flipping switches, pressing buttons and turning knobs. “To the future!”

“Good choice,” Clara joined him.

Hand on the lever, the Doctor looked at her before pulling it. The TARDIS jerked slightly as they faded once again in the time vortex, the future ahead of them.

She walked around the dimly-lit room. The coil of metal rings rotated above the console, a glowing orange light throbbing from within.

The woman surveyed it before pressing several buttons on the console. The ship shuddered in response. Leaning forward, she hung her head and closed her eyes.

“Where are you hiding. Where could you be. I know it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, and I know we’ve never had the best relationship, but I need you. For both our sakes’, tell me where you are. Tell me how to find you.”

Looking up again, she turned away from the control console and walked around the room. She came over to one of the dozens of figures clad in black armor which lined the walls of the room. The woman inspected its armor before turning away.

“Tell me where you are, Doctor.”

## Characters

* Twelfth Doctor
* Clara Oswald
* Eleventh Doctor
* Daniel Furr
* Dave Oswald
* A Weeping Angel

## Trivia

* *A Mad Man in a Box* marks the beginning of a storyline set in a universe separate from the prime universe, where the Doctor's path deviated with that of his core counterpart, and thus set him on a completely different path. The cause of such a divergence is not yet known.
* This episode was originally titled *Depths* and *Minutes*.
* The story originally featured Cybermen as its main antagonists.