Hello, everyone! It's Angst Time!

By the way, I am sick again. Yes, I am sick all the time. But this time it's a bit worse. Details cut off, long story short, etc., the doctor thinks it might be MRSA but nobody has quite figured out what it is, and there is a threat of hospitalisation if it doesn't improve soon, so please forgive me if updates are few and odd.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.


Who are you, then, some sort of Dalek?

He half-ran down the halls, trying to escape the words, but they followed him, chanting inside his head in an endless refrain.

Hail the Doctor, the Great Exterminator. Dalek. Dalek. Dalek. Who are you, then, some sort of Dalek?

He turned a corner and ran into the room he'd been sleeping in whenever he dared to sleep, closing the door behind him and closing his eyes, trying to silence the voices in the sweet scent which was all he had left of Rose.

Ka Faraq Gatri. We are the same. What the hell are you changing into? The Great Exterminator. Dalek. Dalek. Some sort of Dalek.

As her voice joined the ones chorusing inside his head, he gave a strangled cry of despair and collapsed, sobbing, on the mauve-ish duvets, trying to hide in them, staring at the smiling golden picture on the bedside table like a madman.

"Tell me I'm not," he whispered to it.

The photo didn't respond, just carried on smiling, silently blissful, unaware of the chaos in the Doctor's mind.

And the shell of sanity around the thing that he liked to think of as his soul collapsed further in on itself, fracturing under the weight of the darkness which consumed him. He curled into himself, tremors wracking his frame as he sobbed quietly, bleeding as he heard her voice echo around his head.

It's not the one pointing the gun at me... What about you, Doctor? What the hell are you changing into?

She was right. He was no better than a Dalek; his only purpose was to destroy. He was Ka Faraq Gatri. He was the nightmare of nightmares, and he killed everything he touched.

A weight hit the mattress, changing its shape enough to make him uncurl slightly. He blinked open his eyes and squinted at the ginger lump which had landed before him.

"Mrraow?" asked the ginger lump.

He reached out and petted the cat with a trembling hand, and he purred and rubbed against his arm.

My Doctor.

He didn't know why, but the echo of words long gone helped to soothe his self-hatred.

"What do you think, boy?" he inquired of the cat. "Am I a Dalek?"

Kyle mewed before collapsing to lie sprawled comically on his back, batting playfully at the Doctor's hand.

Despite himself, the Time Lord's lips twitched into some semblance of a smile.

"Never would have thought that you'd be much for pink," came a teasing voice from behind him.

The Doctor ignored the comment, rolled over and got to his feet in one smooth movement. "Right, Martha Jones, where do you want to go next?"


Tune in next time for whatever the heck I end up writing next! :D -dizzy medicated look-