I'm not a hero

The last thing she wanted was him blaming himself for this. It wasn’t his fault– not in the slightest.

❝ Hey. Don’t blame yourself for this, Custy. Ya hear me? None of what’s happened here has got anythin’ to do with your actions. It was an accident, and we’ll– ❞ There was a small pause of uncer- tainty, ❝ We’ll find a way out of this… ❞

She realized suddenly that he probably didn’t know just how much things that were meant to happen had changed.

❝ Custy…. things are really…. REALLY not lookin’ good here. The battle that’s comin’– the battle with Jon Snow. Ramsay might win… We messed up.. both of us. The Doctor and I.. we–

                                                      –allowed too much information to slip, and he’s built his numbers by thousands because of it. He’s got over twelve thousand men now… If I remember right… Jon barely has three. Even with the Vale’s help… It’s lookin’ extremely bad. ❞

There was no way she was ready to get into the topic of the marriage. Not yet. He was already in enough anguish without that bit.

❝ There’s this man helpin’ him. Negan Northbow. He wasn’t in any of the lore that I recall, but… Here’s here now. And he’s playin’ a MASSIVE part in all this. ❞

That optimism of hers, encouraging the Doctor when he needed it, being a ray of light in these dark times. It was what he had been missing, what he had been striving to find again, to save; and yet, that only made it all the more apparent how hopeless it felt that after all this time, he still had very little to show for it. Next to nothing, in fact.

But it was quickly washed away at this news of changing the events within this world, changing the outcomes from what they knew. It was a strange concept, finding that what was just a story in their universe was TRUTH in another, acting out play by play. And the fact that it could be altered--

Thin brows tugged together as he turned to face Michelle more properly, taking a step closer, his gaze wholly and entirely fixated on her. ❝  I didn't ACTUALLY think it possible,  ❞ the Doctor began, puzzled, intrigued, and horrified all in one go. He shook his head.

❝  I've always heard the stories, y'know, that's what they've been: stories, rumors, whisperings. Nothing concrete, very little proof. But this world, it's influenced by a story in our universe, specifically Earth, and now that story is diverging, changing, REARRANGING...  ❞ he trailed, the mutterings and ramblings his way of moving through his thoughts, trying to find the sense in it all.

Then his eyes widened, a look of worry crawling onto his angular features, ❝  If this man, this Negan Northbow, was already in this world-- it's already different from the one we know, MASSIVELY so, an' that only means nothing is predictable. Which makes things all the more...  ❞ The Doctor allowed that sentence to hang, lips still and parted for several moments as he swallowed, not daring to finish it even as he cleared this throat.

TWO YEARS.

It was heartbreaking. She was hoping time passed slower in comparison in his dimension– not FASTER. The news devas- tated her so much that she hardly heard anything else he said beyond that point.

❝ Two years!? ❞

And that wasn’t even the worst part of it. He’d spent two entire years just LOOKING for her? He must have been absolutely lost when it first happened. How many times had he called her? How many voice mails had he left? She hated knowing she put him through that…

❝ God, I am sorry, Custy.. It’s… only been a couple months for us. It was my fault. I strayed away from the TARDIS.. There was snow, and I just wanted to– ❞ She shook her head, still letting it sink in that it’d been two years.

❝ Custy– Is there any way to get here? We don’t… we don’t even know how we ended up here. It just– happened. There must be a– crack? Or somethin’. ‘Cause we weren’t the only ones who ended up here. There’s been a few I’ve met already from other worlds too who don’t know how they got here, and they haven’t even got a TARDIS! ❞

There was this deeply rooted and unsettling feeling of wanting to do something, ANYTHING, to get her and even Tenth out of there right this instant. But he didn't even know where to begin. Hell, he barely accomplished this much, getting his image through, finally communicating.

It was in that instant the Doctor felt utterly useless.

The hardness of that feeling dragged his expression down deeper into a frown, a swallow following roughly. But that frown quickly turned his pursed lips into something much more puzzled.

❝  There're others?  ❞ he asked, almost rhetorically, quizzically. ❝  Maybe there is a crack-- that could explain it. But it must be a very, VERY peculiar crack, because I've tried everything to get through to here. This, right here, me finally seeing you, speaking to you, this is as far as I've gotten. First time I tried to come through, TARDIS nearly destroyed herself.  ❞

Taking in a deep breath, the Doctor began pacing, his projected form flickering and stuttering minutely as if a reminder that he wasn't truly here. The only indication beyond a perfect projection-- still just a projection.

He stopped finally, turning to the side as he brought a hand up to rub at his chin. ❝  Perhaps it's all in the timing, maybe I've just been getting it wrong,  ❞ he muttered to himself, pausing to look back over at Michelle. His expression saddened, remorse deep within his eyes.

Had all this taken place months prior, Ramsay would have been a lot more confused. But it was obvious already– he was from that OTHER world.

Blue eyes narrowed at the man as he examined him more carefully. He’d seen this before with Mason. The Bolton was nearly positive now: he wasn’t really there. How disappointing. That explained his demand- ing tone, certainly, especially since he seemed to know exactly who he was.

❝ I’m not interested in your mindless blood magic. Not to THAT extent. ❞    He stated casually, finally standing from where he sat to approach.

❝ Now, then! Let’s start with a much simpler topic! Liiiiiiike who are you?    And why should I care? Are you another one from that SPINELESS    organization? ❞

So it was true, Mason had somehow gotten a projection through as well. Not that he didn't believe it, moreover he hoped it wasn't true. Ramsay's reaction to knowing he wasn't TRULY here only confirmed it.

And of course he thought it was some 'mindless blood magic'. Humans without any advanced technology always waved away unexplained things with magic. A lot of the times, that made excusing things easier. Other times, well...

Much more dangerous.

❝  No, I'm NOT from Egoma. Certainly not working with Mason either. Consider me a concerned third party-- sort of. Third AND first party.   I'm the Doctor.  ❞ He paused, raising a hand almost to stop Ramsay from interrupting due to now knowing TWO Doctors. ❝  'N before you ask, yes, I really am the Doctor. We're BOTH the Doctor. He's me, I'm him.  ❞

Relief POURED through the Doctor the moment he heard her voice. Not only hearing it but hearing it addressing him. Saying that name again. CUSTY. It felt like it had been so long. Then again, he supposed that it HAD been so long.

A sigh followed as he tilted his head down slightly, eyes averting for but a moment before returning back to her. ❝  'Bout two years. Give or take,  ❞ saying that out loud almost hurt, realizing just how long it'd taken him to even get a PROJECTION through. It should've been simple enough and yet the amounts of energy needed for interdimensional communication was immense.

❝  Least it's been a couple years for me. Tracking you down was the relatively easy part. Finding a way to contact you was harder. GETTING here, well...  ❞ his words trailed, a defeat in the silence. 'Impossible' should've come but he couldn't admit to that yet. Fingers were nervously balling, WISHING he was truly there.

In which Custy is determined to save @twiicetheheart

❝  Right to the point then, fine. Easier for me to lay it all out for you right here, right now: Michelle. The Doctor. Don’t play dumb with me either, I know you’re not that kind of stupid, RAMSAY. Not if you’re anything like I’ve SEEN. Properties of this universe can’t be all that different.  ❞

His hands, balled at his sides, shifted, wrists turning ever so minutely, though it was doubtful whether the projection picked it up. A projection, unfortunately, was his only hope of communication. Of even getting through to this dimension. Though hopefully not for long.

//I’m just....