Darkness is a funny thing. So many people think they’re above it. They think they’re pure; untainted. That’s not true of anyone. Everyone is tainted. The darkness is always there, buried inside of people. All it takes to bring it out is the right situation. And the darkness within the Doctor had finally been presented with one.
It had been presented in the form of technology. One would think that a few Cybermites wouldn’t have the power that they did. That power had been a mistake. The Cyberiad hadn’t been ready to take control of a Time Lord mind. Attempting to do so had only come with consequences.
The Cybermites had scoured through the Doctor’s mind, cataloguing and trying to take hold of everything that made him who he was. It was supposed to be simple. Take over the Doctor’s mind, make him into the perfect Cyberplanner. The technology had delved too deeply, and had separated too much. It had uncovered his darkness, and allowed it to disconnect from what made him good. It was free.
The struggle that had ensued within the Doctor’s mind was not that of the Doctor and the Cybermen but the Doctor against himself. His mind had stopped the technology from doing its job. It had merely acted as a vessel for which his darkness could come through.
It was thought that the Doctor had been victorious on that day. That he had rid himself of his darkness. That hope was false. He had merely dealt with the technology. What was inside could never be changed.
And now, that darkness was coming to power again. Through the days that passed it had been seeping through to the surface, making appearances here and there, but the Doctor appeared to be unchanged. He was still the same man. Still the same Time Lord who had made a promise to protect the universe. Soon, he was going to have to protect it from himself.
Mr. Clever had gained some control over the Doctor. He’d been working at it since he’d gotten pushed to the back of his mind. The Doctor didn’t really seem to notice. His bouts of anger, or depression were more common, but he’d never once questioned them. It was almost too easy.
The Doctor had fallen asleep, so Mr. Clever saw an opportunity to test his strength. It wasn’t easy to gain access to the portion of the brain that would allow him control of the body, and once he did access that portion his power there was shaky at best. All his senses were dulled, but the fact that he was actually sensing things for himself rather than being given the scraps of thoughts and emotions that got tossed to the back of his head was fantastic. Now that he had the body he could really start to do things. He had plans that needed to be put into action.
Mr. Clever went to the console room. Oh, it felt so good to be in that room himself. To be able to flip any switches, pull any levers, and push any buttons he pleased. He wasn’t yet strong enough to travel, but it would eventually come to that.
It didn’t take long to do what he had to in the console room. Breaking the TARDIS was far easier than fixing it. The whole time, the Doctor still hadn’t been able to push him to the back of his mind. He probably didn’t even know he was there.
At first, Mr. Clever was unsure of what to do with this new sense of freedom. He couldn’t further his plans anymore that night, and he couldn’t travel. Perhaps he could allow the Doctor to have his mind back for the time being. But no… having the power to move around and experience things for himself was just too splendid to give up just yet.
After some thought, Mr. Clever realized what he could do. It was something he’d been wanting to do. Travelling was involved, but he knew the location well. The Doctor went there every Wednesday.
Mr. Clever typed in the coordinates - his fingers moving slowly as he still had yet to adjust - and then he was off. When the TARDIS landed he looked to the monitor. He was right where he wanted to be. After months of waiting, he was going to see Clara Oswald again.