DW - One-Shot: In Her Honour
Loving it... ;)
Title: In Her Honour
Author: Jaelijn
Disclaimer: Doctor Who and all associated items are property of BBC. The Doctor's tenth regeneration was largely shaped by Mr Russell T. Davies, creator of the new Doctor Who, and Mr David Tennant. No copyright infringement intended.
Rating: PG
Warnings: very angsty, massive spoilers for “Doomsday”, spoilers for “The Runaway Pride”, slight spoilers for the fourth season final (no plot, just an idea I had to use)
Characters: Tenth Doctor, the TARDIS
Prompt: WILD CARD - grief
Summary: The Doctor ponders.
Author's Note: Written for
. Tenth Doctor fic. After “Doomsday” and “The Runaway Pride”. Rather heavily on the 'hurt'-side.
.................................... ~ oOo ~ ....................................
Sometimes, eternity was an entirely too long time. Technically, the Doctor knew he wasn't immortal, far from it, in fact. It felt like it sometimes, though. To think that he had laughed at the concept when he'd first seen Highlander...
Anyway, eternity was too long a time to spend alone, and yet that was how he always wound up - alone, entirely, totally, completely alone. In the end, they all left. Or he left, whichever came first. It was never by choice, or mutual agreement.
“How long are you going to stay with me?”
“Forever.”
The sky had been of a wonderful orange tone, reminding him of home, as the Equasi, also known as 'giant flying mantas' circled around the rock formations of their homeworld, safe and undisturbed. It hadn't mattered that they were only there because the Doctor had saved them. The past never mattered, all that mattered was the present, and that moment had been perfect. The best day. Day after day, it had been the best.
“They keep trying to split us up, but they never ever will.”
The Doctor brushed his fingers over the console of the TARDIS, relishing the soft vibrating, a piece of home.
It should become easier with practice, of which he had had enough. The rage burning inside his soul had been bottled up again, but the Doctor could not shake the feeling that he'd gone too far, this time. That this loss, her loss, was what had finally tipped him over the edge, sending him down a spiral of which he didn't want to know the end.
If it hadn't been for Donna, he would have just stood there, the Destroyer of Worlds, the Destroyer of Species, watching the last of the Racnoss die. He would have stood there, until he, too, would have been swallowed by fire and water and rage, too fast to regenerate. He wasn't sure if he would have, even if he could. She had saved him, but she wouldn't come with him.
“And I won't leave him!”
Maybe it was for the best. He hadn't really had any time for himself after... that day. It had all been a flurry of pain and haste and despair. It was the way of the Time Lords - moving on, no matter what. But this time, it was moving on to look back, something he had never done before, nor could imagine doing again. He had burned up a sun for her. Burning up a sun just to say goodbye.
“How long have we got?”
He had never even considered saying goodbye before. Not... for real. Not in the knowledge that it was goodbye, 'farewell', not 'see you'. He had never dared looking back, fearing that every goodbye could destroy what remained of him. What had not yet been swallowed by guilt, rage and grief. He was incredibly selfish in that aspect. But they were humans, they would adapt - carry on, keep surviving, like they always did. If it hadn't been for their example, he would have given up long ago.
“No. Not to you.”
She had been different. In a way, she had been different. The Doctor had never been able to pinpoint just why. It wasn't because she had pulled him back from the abyss of the war. Not because she had stopped him turning into a monster. Not because she had poured the time vortex into her head and survived, just to save him. Not because she had stayed, through all of it, never leaving, never leaving his side because it was too much, too dangerous, too crazy.
“Stuck with you, it's not so bad.”
The Doctor was certain that he couldn't just move on now, not after he had put all that effort into looking back. For a while, she had been his guiding star, and now that she was gone, past the point of no return, he needed to stop and get his bearings. The TARDIS was trying to be helpful already, taking him into the vortex and setting the ship adrift. Time for himself. Time to deal with grief.
“Am I ever going to see you again?”
“You can't.”
It was both of them. Both of them were not going to see the other again, not ever.
“Never say 'never ever'.”
The Doctor knew it was the TARDIS, filling him with hope and warmth, that somehow, someday, there would be a way. He wished he could believe her. He had no need for the comfort - for once, he wanted to do one of his companions the honour of looking back - of remembering her, mentioning her, of feeling the coldness of grief in his soul. She deserved it.
“I love you!”
“Quite right, too.”
He had known, of course. He had always known he had that effect on people - fascination, love, even when he told himself that he wasn't looking for it. It was how he was, who he was, part of the his darkest side. He was always surviving, always left behind because others were there to die for him. He made an effort of remembering their names, but for her, it wasn't enough. Because with her, he had been certain that she didn't just love him for what he represented - adventure, the strange and the new - but for who he was. With her, he was certain that she had long grasped the darkness lurking in his soul. He supposed that was what had made it so hard. What was still making it hard. But perhaps, just perhaps, this was what was right, in her honour.
“I suppose, if it's my last chance to say it: Rose Tyler...”
.................................... ~ oOo ~ ....................................