The TARDIS. No time at all.

I have stood in the way of mad gods, demons, monsters from a thousand worlds. I have seen madness that makes even your creation seem tame.

He walked to the centre of the console room, every step heavy and full of pain. The glowing that had already been evident when he awoke was now only worse. He winced slightly - the pain was nigh on intolerable, but he would press on. He had a promise to keep.

"I know you're a good pony, Doctor. And I know, whatever you've done, it was the best you could do. And knowing you, you won't stop until Solamina is stopped. Just promise me something."

"If I can."

"When this war's over, and if we're all still alive - promise me you'll find somepony to travel around with? If there's one thing I know, it's that you're not happy being alone."

He smiled slightly. The other Ditzy Doo had been so much like the mare he had known before, back in Ponyville. Kind and brave. Maybe too kind, maybe too brave. But most of all, she had cared for him, when he didn’t care for himself.

"If I survive, then yes, I promise, I will find someone - or somepony - to take into the TARDIS with me."

He flicked a switch on his console, setting the coordinates. There was a certain individual he had to go visit…

***

Appleoosa. December 12th. Year 0 of the New Free Equestrian Calendar (2030).

Trixie Lulamoon took another swig of her drink. In the months since the battle of Canterlot and the death of Solamina (and the end of the Empire) she had found herself lacking in motivation. For the longest time, she had been part of the Equestrian Resistance's local efforts to evacuate ponies from the Empire and bring them to Britain to take part in the conflict proper against Solamina's Empire. Now though...

Now she was done. The war was over. Though many ponies remained in Britain and the rest of Earth to build new lives or continue the lives they had built, many had come home, and no more would need to flee by her caravan. Her usefulness, such as it had been, was over.

There had been an acknowledgement of the part the Resistance in Equestria had played. Ponies like Dew Drop, Octavia Philharmonica and others had been honoured by Prince Blueblood. Trixie had gone too, and had been suitably honoured... but honoured didn't translate to anything monetary. There was no reward for her good deeds, and there was no job or task left that she could do for this new regime.

And so, feeling altogether dejected, she found herself back to where she had been before the smuggling: drinking sleeping through towns and generally feeling unfulfilled.

You help save a world and this is how you get repaid, she thought bitterly. No job. No life. Just the same damn thing you had before. Should’ve guessed.

“Excuse me,” an altogether familiar voice said. She blinked as she turned to face the speaker.

The battered, lined face of the pony was older than the last time she had seen him, and his smile was wearier. His coat had a few more scuffs, and she could have sworn his mane and tail were greyer too.

“You,” she said, eyes wide. “Doctor.”

“Hello, Miss Lulamoon,” he said softly, smiling. “I’m glad to see you. I trust everything is going well for you?”

She snorted at that. “The Great and Generous Trixie spent five years ferrying ponies, nearly getting caught a half dozen times and once having to run between New Prance and the Portal in three days to make a rendezvous that turned out to be a bloody death-trap anyway, and all it gets her is a medal, a pat on the back and buck all else. Yes, ‘going well’ is how Trixie would describe right now.”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “Well, in that case, I suppose I should see to your reward.”

Trixie blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I would very much like you to accompany me, Miss Lulamoon, if you are so inclined,” the Doctor continued, as though he hadn’t heard her.

Trixie frowned. “Where? What craziness are you going to dump on my door this time?”

“Ideally, none,” the Doctor replied, “but I fear travelling with me in the TARDIS does present more than its fair share of catastrophes on a daily basis.”

“Travelling?” Trixie repeated. “With you? In your machine?”

“If you’re willing,” the Doctor said with a smile.

Trixie stood up at once, eyes wide, a sudden grin of excitement on her face.

“Are you kidding?!” she said. “I’ve waited all my life for you to ask me that!”

The Doctor’s smile widened slightly. “Very well,” he said. “If you’ll follow me.”

***

The inside of his machine was just as wondrous as she remembered it being. She smiled as she stepped inside, and grinned as he approached the console.

“Where would you like to start?” he asked. “With the future? Or the past? We could, if you wanted, go to visit ancient Adamantia, or witness the fall of the Discordant Legions. We might see the ancient Crystal Empire before Sombra’s reign, or perhaps the age of Unicornia. We might even go visit Starswirl - he owes me some money from a prior excursion.”

“I don’t know!” Trixie said, forgetting her third person in her excitement. “I… I wouldn’t know where to begin!”

The Doctor’s smile faded slightly. He flicked a lever. “Then we shall make it a surprise.”

He sighed, hunching over slightly. There was, oddly enough, a slight glow emitting from him for a moment, though it might have been a trick of the light. Trixie frowned slightly, her smile fading.

“Doctor?” she asked. “Are you alright?”

“I have a confession,” he said softly. “A rather large one. I manipulated you.”

Trixie narrowed her eyes. “Manipulated me?”

“When we first met,” the Doctor said, not looking up at her as he continued. “I selected you as an ideal smuggler, and went back along your time stream. I intended for you to be curious about the box, to be curious about me. I intended for that to be the motivation you would have when I expressed anger - you would subconsciously desire to gain my approval.”

Trixie blinked, not sure how to react. “W… why?”

“Because I needed a smuggler and you were the best choice,” he replied simply, almost bluntly. “I had a need, and I filled it. I needed you to know that.”

“Why?” Trixie repeated, now feeling somewhat angry, her shock turning to rage. “You… you manipulated me into risking my life for your cause… why?!”

"No more. I said those words once. I meant them then, and I mean them now. This war… this war doesn't need a Doctor. It needs something else entirely."

“I was once a Doctor,” he said softly, still not looking at her. It was though he was saying these words at her as much as to her. “A good man - well, pony. A pony who would never dreamed of doing what I did. And then I lost somepony closer to me than any other.”

"Doctor, no more. For Ditzy."

“That turned me into this,” he finished. “When we first met, I told you I was once the pony Doctor Hooves.”

“The pony you looked nothing like,” she said, scowling. “What does that have to do with it?”

“There are abilities my kind have,” he said. “I am no mere pony. I am a Time Lord - an ancient kind with the ability to change our physical forms when injured… or when suitably motivated.” He grimaced, and again he seemed to glow softly. “I turned myself into the pony who could do what I did to you, because that was what my cause needed. And now…” He paused. “I suppose I need your absolution.”

Trixie didn’t know what to say. He had manipulated her - the almost childish glee she felt upon seeing him - even after everything she had been through - was intentional, something he had done to her, to make her perfect for his purposes.

“Then why bring me with you?” she asked with a scowl.

“Because I promised a good mare I would not travel alone,” he replied softly, finally looking at her. “And because I knew you, alone amongst others, might deserve it.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because I manipulated you,” he said. “And because you did what I asked of you, despite your fear, despite your desire to be safe and to be far from conflict and peril. You threw yourself into the role I asked you to fill even though you did not want it.” He smiled. “You did the right thing. This is a reward… if you still want it.”

Trixie narrowed her eyes. On the one hoof, it was tempting - and he seemed genuinely contrite. On the other… well, he had manipulated her, he had lied to her…

Before she could say anything more, however, he gave a yell, a brighter glow enveloping his body for a moment. She started, stepping backward slightly.

“What was that?” she asked, eyes wide. “What’s happening?”

“The ability I mentioned,” he said evenly, though his voice was strained. “I’m currently in the process of using it.”

It took her a moment to connect the dots. “You’re injured.”

“At Canterlot,” he replied with a strained smile.

“That was months ago,” she said, before remembering who she was talking to. He grinned.

“I know,” he said. “What can I say… I meant to be here earlier… maybe next time, I shall be better at navigation.”

“I…” she said, not sure what to do. “What should I…?”

“Do?” he asked. “There is nothing you can. Except to be here - to be my friend. To accept a foolish old pony’s apology, and maybe help him to be a better pony afterward.”

“Me?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “How can I help you to be a better pony?”

He smiled. “Because you have to ask. Because you helped, even when you didn’t need to - no manipulation could have forced you to do something you didn’t want to. I believed in you from the moment we met, Trixie Lulamoon. I still believe in you. All you need to do is believe in yourself.”

She blinked, shocked at his words. Nopony… no anyone, ever… had ever spoken such honest praise at her, and it made her feel a sudden clenching in her chest as tears welled up.

“I… I…” she said. “I don’t…”

He said nothing else, merely smiling. And then there was a flare of golden energy, brighter than a star. Trixie stepped back, eyes widening in shock, a shield raising as she watched the old pony seem almost to burst into flames.

And then the flare vanished, and in the old pony’s place was an ice-blue Earth Pony, wide grey eyes blinking as though eternally shocked at everything. He stumbled slightly, as though getting used to his hooves, and shook his head as though dazed. His cutie mark was an hourglass, no longer shattered.

“I…” he said, his voice higher-pitched and less gravelly. He frowned. “I… e… o… u… a… ok, vowels work. That’s good. Right.” He looked up at her. “Oh, hello.”

Trixie Lulamoon blinked in surprise, not certain how to react. This was… definitely not what she had been expecting.

Author's Notes:

Nice bit of closure for the War Doctor Hooves there. :-)