Fic: The Loves of My Lives
The Doctor ponders the nature of true love and who holds his hearts. A brief look at the Doctor and all of his “one true loves.” One-shot. This is my first fan fiction.
I met a man once, a Londoner.
He was in his late 70s and quite happily married to his second wife. You see, he'd had two great loves in his lifetime. He had positively adored his first wife and had been utterly devastated when she died. Still, time marches on and he met another woman who stole his heart. He still loved and missed his first wife, and the fact that he was able to fall in love again didn't change that.
Some humans are like Amy and Rory Pond (Williams if you insist, but I prefer Pond); they have only one great love throughout their entire lives. Others are like this London man, and having more than one love-of-a-lifetime in no way means they have loved any less.
I'm a Time Lord. I've lived several lifetimes. Naturally I've had several great loves in my life.
My first was as a young man on Gallifrey. She was beautiful and brilliant and a bit cheeky. I married her. We had children and grandchildren. We were completely happy, until one day when the urge to wander became too strong and I stole a TARDIS and ran away. She probably would have forgiven me that-she knew about my desire to see the universe-if I hadn't taken our granddaughter Susan along for the ride. We always intended to return one day. But Time Lords do have a bit in common with mice and men. And even if you don't get that reference, we all know where good intentions lead.
Then there was Romana. She was beautiful and brilliant and just a bit cheeky. After years of traveling with humans after Susan left, Romana not only gave me a glimpse of home she could match or even surpass me for intelligence. She was naive but eager to learn, and I loved showing her the worlds and the stars.
Then came the Time War. Then came loss and destruction and utter loneliness and complete despair. I had loved two Time Ladies, and now both were gone. Everyone and everything that had ever mattered, that ever could matter, was gone. I couldn't figure out why in the worlds I had survived.
Then I met her . Rose Tyler. She was beautiful and brilliant and a bit cheeky (yes, I have a type). She had the kindest heart and the greatest compassion of anyone I've ever met. I could feel her healing some of the broken places within me. She helped me smile again, then laugh, then care. She took a hardened war survivor and helped him live again. She loved the adventure of traveling and never tired of the wonders the universe had to offer. She planned to stay with me for the rest of her life, and although it would have broken both of my hearts to see her age and finally die, I would have let her, just for the pleasure of having her with me as long as I could.
Unfortunately, fate or the universe or somebody had other plans. I lost her. By the time I found her again, someone else needed her more. Someone else could offer her more. They say if you really love someone you let them go, so I did. And although the loneliness returned a hundredfold, I've never once regretted it.
And now there's River. She's beautiful and brilliant and-well, you know the rest. I wasn't really planning to fall in love again. And standing there in that library, even as I was completely impressed by how quick on her feet and what a great leader she was, I was still blown away with shock when she whispered my name- my name- in my ear. How in the worlds had I let someone in again? Especially to that extent? I had loved Rose and Romana, but I hadn't told anyone my name since my wedding on Gallifrey. Who was this River Song that I would tell her ?
I watched her die in my place. And oh, how I fought falling for her. In spite of her words to me not to rewrite “one line” of our time together, I had the thought that if I just held myself back, if I just didn't let myself fall, didn't let myself get close, I could rewrite time and keep River from that wretched library. I could really save her, instead of just kind of saving her.
Of course it didn't work. River will not be denied. In the end it doesn't matter if I fell in love only because I knew I already had; it only matters that I did. I came to the rescue every time River called. I was intrigued by her intelligence, her wit, and her incessant cry of “spoilers!” and “hello, sweetie.” I found I truly enjoyed flirting with her. I watched her kill me and then I watched her save me. And then the unthinkable happened; I stood on top of a pyramid with a strip of cloth wrapped around our hands as time itself crumbled around us. I knew I didn't have to marry her. Had I simply told her about the Teselecta, she would have relented and allowed time to restore. No, I married the impossible daughter of my two best friends simply because I wanted to.
She truly is hell in high heels, perhaps more than anyone I have ever known. My hearts will shatter one night when I take her to Darillium and listen to those blasted towers sing, for I know that will be our last night together and the me she encounters next won't know her and will break her hearts. For now though, I will savor every moment of our time because I know how soon it all will end.
All four of these remarkable women I have loved and lost have left their marks on me. They have changed me for the better. The fact that I have loved more than one in no way means I have loved any of them any less. Perhaps one day, when I am a widower once again and time has performed its healing work, I will meet another great love. Perhaps.
END
I do not own Doctor Who, and I make no profit.
I met a man once, a Londoner.
He was in his late 70s and quite happily married to his second wife. You see, he'd had two great loves in his lifetime. He had positively adored his first wife and had been utterly devastated when she died. Still, time marches on and he met another woman who stole his heart. He still loved and missed his first wife, and the fact that he was able to fall in love again didn't change that.
Some humans are like Amy and Rory Pond (Williams if you insist, but I prefer Pond); they have only one great love throughout their entire lives. Others are like this London man, and having more than one love-of-a-lifetime in no way means they have loved any less.
I'm a Time Lord. I've lived several lifetimes. Naturally I've had several great loves in my life.
My first was as a young man on Gallifrey. She was beautiful and brilliant and a bit cheeky. I married her. We had children and grandchildren. We were completely happy, until one day when the urge to wander became too strong and I stole a TARDIS and ran away. She probably would have forgiven me that-she knew about my desire to see the universe-if I hadn't taken our granddaughter Susan along for the ride. We always intended to return one day. But Time Lords do have a bit in common with mice and men. And even if you don't get that reference, we all know where good intentions lead.
Then there was Romana. She was beautiful and brilliant and just a bit cheeky. After years of traveling with humans after Susan left, Romana not only gave me a glimpse of home she could match or even surpass me for intelligence. She was naive but eager to learn, and I loved showing her the worlds and the stars.
Then came the Time War. Then came loss and destruction and utter loneliness and complete despair. I had loved two Time Ladies, and now both were gone. Everyone and everything that had ever mattered, that ever could matter, was gone. I couldn't figure out why in the worlds I had survived.
Then I met her . Rose Tyler. She was beautiful and brilliant and a bit cheeky (yes, I have a type). She had the kindest heart and the greatest compassion of anyone I've ever met. I could feel her healing some of the broken places within me. She helped me smile again, then laugh, then care. She took a hardened war survivor and helped him live again. She loved the adventure of traveling and never tired of the wonders the universe had to offer. She planned to stay with me for the rest of her life, and although it would have broken both of my hearts to see her age and finally die, I would have let her, just for the pleasure of having her with me as long as I could.
Unfortunately, fate or the universe or somebody had other plans. I lost her. By the time I found her again, someone else needed her more. Someone else could offer her more. They say if you really love someone you let them go, so I did. And although the loneliness returned a hundredfold, I've never once regretted it.
And now there's River. She's beautiful and brilliant and-well, you know the rest. I wasn't really planning to fall in love again. And standing there in that library, even as I was completely impressed by how quick on her feet and what a great leader she was, I was still blown away with shock when she whispered my name- my name- in my ear. How in the worlds had I let someone in again? Especially to that extent? I had loved Rose and Romana, but I hadn't told anyone my name since my wedding on Gallifrey. Who was this River Song that I would tell her ?
I watched her die in my place. And oh, how I fought falling for her. In spite of her words to me not to rewrite “one line” of our time together, I had the thought that if I just held myself back, if I just didn't let myself fall, didn't let myself get close, I could rewrite time and keep River from that wretched library. I could really save her, instead of just kind of saving her.
Of course it didn't work. River will not be denied. In the end it doesn't matter if I fell in love only because I knew I already had; it only matters that I did. I came to the rescue every time River called. I was intrigued by her intelligence, her wit, and her incessant cry of “spoilers!” and “hello, sweetie.” I found I truly enjoyed flirting with her. I watched her kill me and then I watched her save me. And then the unthinkable happened; I stood on top of a pyramid with a strip of cloth wrapped around our hands as time itself crumbled around us. I knew I didn't have to marry her. Had I simply told her about the Teselecta, she would have relented and allowed time to restore. No, I married the impossible daughter of my two best friends simply because I wanted to.
She truly is hell in high heels, perhaps more than anyone I have ever known. My hearts will shatter one night when I take her to Darillium and listen to those blasted towers sing, for I know that will be our last night together and the me she encounters next won't know her and will break her hearts. For now though, I will savor every moment of our time because I know how soon it all will end.
All four of these remarkable women I have loved and lost have left their marks on me. They have changed me for the better. The fact that I have loved more than one in no way means I have loved any of them any less. Perhaps one day, when I am a widower once again and time has performed its healing work, I will meet another great love. Perhaps.
END
I do not own Doctor Who, and I make no profit.