Kiss It Better Chp 6/6
Chapter Six
Humans were an odd sort of people, the Doctor decided. Forever calling him peculiar, when they didn't even understand themselves. He supposed part of it had to do with the mad way they rushed about their lives, unable to stop and look at things properly. Most accused him of running through life at a gallop, but all things considered, he was traveling along quite sedately- what with centuries to make up for not doing much at all. That was part of why they rushed so much, and he had figured that bit out regenerations ago. They were around for such a short time, and they had come to realize that when they discovered just how vast the universe was.
He used to think of them as children. Forever children, right up until they died, incapable of having the lifespan that would carry them into adulthood, to properly understanding the worlds at large.
Thankfully he had gotten rid of that silly notion.
A year, a day, a decade- centuries, it all mattered on how you lived it.
Still, there was no philosophizing away the fact that most humans (ones in this time, anyway) did not tend to make it to a century. And those that did would never make it half-way to their next. They were a short lived, next to him.
Or, as his rather depressing thoughts had been circling towards, she was quite short lived next to him. One life. One body. One face. Unless she went for plastic surgery, which he rather hoped she wouldn't.
There he was, properly inserting 'she' into his thoughts!
She of course, being Sarah.
Sarah, who had gone and acted like a child, even to her own people. Sarah, who still managed to have dirt on her one face, and had decided to kiss him. Sarah, who's short life had somehow become something incredibly greater to his longer one- and he knew through that kiss and the possibility of more to come, that she had drawn herself closer to his hearts. Undoubtedly, he was closer to hers as well.
Humans, with their one heart- now that was something he was still yet to understand, how humans could live with just one heart, that seemed like madness to him.
How easily those hearts could break too, and that was what was worrying him. He could very easily break Sarah's heart, a flash, a moment for him for it to happen- but it could be her entire life he would break along with it. So why did he want to kiss her again? Why did he want to pull her close, not let her go- until one day he would have to. For him, their time would end someday. Either through her death or her leaving (which would almost be bearable, now wouldn't, because he could find her again, over and over, see her in that one spot, but oh- how would he stand having let her walk away?) things would end.
Endings. So much like a goodbye, and he didn't like those, not one bit. All of time and space before him and things still had the audacity to end! It was almost infuriating, but he understood the necessity of ends, in the great scheme of things. They were important to the way the universe ran, no matter how hard he tried to run from them.
But he was putting things out of order, here, wasn't he? He quite liked the order of a time traveler's life, it made such interesting shapes, compared to the line most people liked to walk on. Here he was, thinking about endings, when really, it was all about a beginning, wasn't it?
The beginning he was inching towards with Sarah. A beginning he was terrified of because it would end.
It was just one of those unfair laws of the universe, wasn't it? Alright, not unfair, per se, just one of things silly pieces of abstract he wasn't allowed to fight against.
You couldn't fight against things starting though, either. However could anything happen if nothing ever started? Beginnings could be terrifying, but they could also be exhilarating, magnificent, and the start of many other things to which he could never experience unless that one thing came up first.
Then there was the experience that the beginnings brought about. The whole adventure between the start and finish. The Everything that he had so much fun moving about it, witnessing beginnings when he fancied it, jumping right over the endings and showing Sarah the good bits (and alright, sometimes the bad) of the Everything.
There was an Everything that they could have if he just let them Begin, but could he stand the End?
--
“That's the look,” she yawned, pulling a hand from under the duvet to cover her mouth.
Sarah was curled up under the blankets of her borrowed bed, the Doctor laying next her on his side, head propped up with one of his hands.
“What look?” He asked.
“When I see you in the TARDIS, and you seem to so sad.. You had that look on your face.”
“I did?”
“Yes,” Sarah sighed.
“Well,” the Doctor smiled. “I believe you had a remedy you wanted to try?”
“Mmhmm,” she stayed tucked under the blanket, reaching out with her freed arm towards him.
Shifting so that he could lean over her, he said, “good morning Sarah,” before brushing a kiss to her lips, nearly toppling on top of her when she wrapped her arms around him, unbalancing him the process.
She started to laugh when, in an effort not to crush her, he fell off the bed instead of on to her. Sarah propped herself up onto her elbows, peering down over the edge of her borrowed cot in the UNIT closet the Brig called a spare room, to look at where the Doctor was a crumpled heap on the floor.
She heard a muffled 'ow' from the floor and had to stifle a giggle.
He held a hand up to his nose as he slowly pulled himself back up.
“Here,” Sarah reached out and delicately clasped his wrist in her fingers, pulling his hand away from his face. “Let me kiss it better.”
--
No, there was no fighting against beginnings. He would just have to do anything to hold onto everything, and dig his heels in when the end came.
Humans were an odd sort of people, the Doctor decided. Forever calling him peculiar, when they didn't even understand themselves. He supposed part of it had to do with the mad way they rushed about their lives, unable to stop and look at things properly. Most accused him of running through life at a gallop, but all things considered, he was traveling along quite sedately- what with centuries to make up for not doing much at all. That was part of why they rushed so much, and he had figured that bit out regenerations ago. They were around for such a short time, and they had come to realize that when they discovered just how vast the universe was.
He used to think of them as children. Forever children, right up until they died, incapable of having the lifespan that would carry them into adulthood, to properly understanding the worlds at large.
Thankfully he had gotten rid of that silly notion.
A year, a day, a decade- centuries, it all mattered on how you lived it.
Still, there was no philosophizing away the fact that most humans (ones in this time, anyway) did not tend to make it to a century. And those that did would never make it half-way to their next. They were a short lived, next to him.
Or, as his rather depressing thoughts had been circling towards, she was quite short lived next to him. One life. One body. One face. Unless she went for plastic surgery, which he rather hoped she wouldn't.
There he was, properly inserting 'she' into his thoughts!
She of course, being Sarah.
Sarah, who had gone and acted like a child, even to her own people. Sarah, who still managed to have dirt on her one face, and had decided to kiss him. Sarah, who's short life had somehow become something incredibly greater to his longer one- and he knew through that kiss and the possibility of more to come, that she had drawn herself closer to his hearts. Undoubtedly, he was closer to hers as well.
Humans, with their one heart- now that was something he was still yet to understand, how humans could live with just one heart, that seemed like madness to him.
How easily those hearts could break too, and that was what was worrying him. He could very easily break Sarah's heart, a flash, a moment for him for it to happen- but it could be her entire life he would break along with it. So why did he want to kiss her again? Why did he want to pull her close, not let her go- until one day he would have to. For him, their time would end someday. Either through her death or her leaving (which would almost be bearable, now wouldn't, because he could find her again, over and over, see her in that one spot, but oh- how would he stand having let her walk away?) things would end.
Endings. So much like a goodbye, and he didn't like those, not one bit. All of time and space before him and things still had the audacity to end! It was almost infuriating, but he understood the necessity of ends, in the great scheme of things. They were important to the way the universe ran, no matter how hard he tried to run from them.
But he was putting things out of order, here, wasn't he? He quite liked the order of a time traveler's life, it made such interesting shapes, compared to the line most people liked to walk on. Here he was, thinking about endings, when really, it was all about a beginning, wasn't it?
The beginning he was inching towards with Sarah. A beginning he was terrified of because it would end.
It was just one of those unfair laws of the universe, wasn't it? Alright, not unfair, per se, just one of things silly pieces of abstract he wasn't allowed to fight against.
You couldn't fight against things starting though, either. However could anything happen if nothing ever started? Beginnings could be terrifying, but they could also be exhilarating, magnificent, and the start of many other things to which he could never experience unless that one thing came up first.
Then there was the experience that the beginnings brought about. The whole adventure between the start and finish. The Everything that he had so much fun moving about it, witnessing beginnings when he fancied it, jumping right over the endings and showing Sarah the good bits (and alright, sometimes the bad) of the Everything.
There was an Everything that they could have if he just let them Begin, but could he stand the End?
--
“That's the look,” she yawned, pulling a hand from under the duvet to cover her mouth.
Sarah was curled up under the blankets of her borrowed bed, the Doctor laying next her on his side, head propped up with one of his hands.
“What look?” He asked.
“When I see you in the TARDIS, and you seem to so sad.. You had that look on your face.”
“I did?”
“Yes,” Sarah sighed.
“Well,” the Doctor smiled. “I believe you had a remedy you wanted to try?”
“Mmhmm,” she stayed tucked under the blanket, reaching out with her freed arm towards him.
Shifting so that he could lean over her, he said, “good morning Sarah,” before brushing a kiss to her lips, nearly toppling on top of her when she wrapped her arms around him, unbalancing him the process.
She started to laugh when, in an effort not to crush her, he fell off the bed instead of on to her. Sarah propped herself up onto her elbows, peering down over the edge of her borrowed cot in the UNIT closet the Brig called a spare room, to look at where the Doctor was a crumpled heap on the floor.
She heard a muffled 'ow' from the floor and had to stifle a giggle.
He held a hand up to his nose as he slowly pulled himself back up.
“Here,” Sarah reached out and delicately clasped his wrist in her fingers, pulling his hand away from his face. “Let me kiss it better.”
--
No, there was no fighting against beginnings. He would just have to do anything to hold onto everything, and dig his heels in when the end came.