Fic: The Doctor Lies 1/1
Title: The Doctor Lies
Rating: PG
Word Count: 866
Pairings/Characters: The Doctor, Jack, Rose, Amy, Rory
Genre: Character study
Summary: He lies to his companions for a good reason, but that doesn't mean he doesn't regret it.
He’s made some decisions in the past, many of which he’s come to regret. When he was younger, he always told his companions to trust him. They never suspected that he might actually lie.
After the Gamestation, when he lied to Rose about Jack, knowing full well that he was probably dead, he didn’t let himself regret it until later. He thought he was doing the right thing, that it would help Rose in her delusion that they’d always be together, even when that faith was shaken slightly by his regeneration and when she met Sarah Jane.
Then, he found Jack. Or Jack found him. The Doctor found himself regretting lying to Rose, because if he had told her the truth, then she would have insisted on going back…and they would have found Jack, alive, and maybe then things would have been different. Maybe Rose wouldn’t have been trapped on the other side of the Void. Maybe then he could have fixed Jack, instead of perpetuating his tangle of lies.
He lied to Jack, saying that he couldn’t be changed, couldn’t be helped. He tried to drive Jack away by telling him that he’d been intentionally abandoned, that he and the TARDIS couldn’t stand to be near him. Lies, all of them, lies. But how could he tell Jack that the only way for him to be fixed, permanently, would only result in his immediate death? The only way his immortality would end would be for him to die, because he didn’t have a right to a mortal life anymore, not after his mortal death at the Gamestation.
He lied to Rose, when he left her and his double on Bad Wolf Bay. It’s possible his other self knew what he was up to, and told Rose later. That time, he was trying to protect himself. He hoped that she hadn’t ended up like Jack, living an immortal life, because then she could live a mortal life with his double. He knew he was taking a big risk, but…He couldn’t kill her. He wouldn’t. Then she would be like Jack, living until the Vortex energy was eventually consumed and then dying for the final time while he stood aside, knowing that he could help but choosing not to because of his own weaknesses.
He lied to the Nobles, to Donna, to Wilf. There were other ways to save Donna, but staying with him could only result in something happening to her, something much worse than being given a Time Lord mind. So, he took her memories of him, of their travels, placed a failsafe in case of any more alien invasions on Earth, and then left. He couldn’t let any more people get hurt because of him.
He told himself that, over and over again, up until he could feel the radiation burning through him and through some sort of nostalgia began revisiting all of his companions, each and every one of them. He didn’t want to go, he couldn’t…but even then he was lying to himself.
Then, suddenly, he’s young. Well, younger. There’s a young girl with bright red hair and fish fingers and custard, and she’s absolutely brilliant. He tells her to wait for him for five minutes, even knowing full well that his TARDIS isn’t always the timeliest of vehicles, even if it does travel through time and should therefore theoretically always arrive on time.
After that, there’s hitting of cricket bats and running and shouting and more running and he jumps out of a cake and then there’s more running and shouting and then Rory is gone, and…He finds himself lying to Amy, almost constantly. Some little things, some big things, carefully walking his way around the large Rory-shaped hole in Amy’s life that she doesn’t even know exists. He finds that this is one thing that he doesn’t want to hide, doesn’t want to keep secret, but…He doesn’t want to hurt her, either. It’s better this way, for him to have never existed than for her to remember Rory, and mourn.
It reminds him of the Gamestation, and Jack. He wishes it doesn’t.
Time passes, and Rory comes back, and the Doctor finds himself lying again, faking his own death. It’s not until later that he realizes that faking his own death might become a thing.
Whenever he lies, he tells himself that he’s doing the right thing. He’s protecting his friends, his companions, his children. Even when Amy has been taken, even when the Doctor is walking around in a robotic double, he tells himself that he’s doing the right thing.
He knows that he’s made some bad decisions. He knows it, and now he tries to warn his companions. He tells them that he lies, but they always seem to ignore him or forget the possibility. They may just not be looking, listening, hard enough.
He tells himself that at least now they know.
They’ve been warned, and they know what they’re getting into when they travel with him.
He refuses to let himself second-guess himself, because his previous choices can’t be changed.
He just keeps going, doing the same thing he’s done for years.
He never looks back.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 866
Pairings/Characters: The Doctor, Jack, Rose, Amy, Rory
Genre: Character study
Summary: He lies to his companions for a good reason, but that doesn't mean he doesn't regret it.
He’s made some decisions in the past, many of which he’s come to regret. When he was younger, he always told his companions to trust him. They never suspected that he might actually lie.
After the Gamestation, when he lied to Rose about Jack, knowing full well that he was probably dead, he didn’t let himself regret it until later. He thought he was doing the right thing, that it would help Rose in her delusion that they’d always be together, even when that faith was shaken slightly by his regeneration and when she met Sarah Jane.
Then, he found Jack. Or Jack found him. The Doctor found himself regretting lying to Rose, because if he had told her the truth, then she would have insisted on going back…and they would have found Jack, alive, and maybe then things would have been different. Maybe Rose wouldn’t have been trapped on the other side of the Void. Maybe then he could have fixed Jack, instead of perpetuating his tangle of lies.
He lied to Jack, saying that he couldn’t be changed, couldn’t be helped. He tried to drive Jack away by telling him that he’d been intentionally abandoned, that he and the TARDIS couldn’t stand to be near him. Lies, all of them, lies. But how could he tell Jack that the only way for him to be fixed, permanently, would only result in his immediate death? The only way his immortality would end would be for him to die, because he didn’t have a right to a mortal life anymore, not after his mortal death at the Gamestation.
He lied to Rose, when he left her and his double on Bad Wolf Bay. It’s possible his other self knew what he was up to, and told Rose later. That time, he was trying to protect himself. He hoped that she hadn’t ended up like Jack, living an immortal life, because then she could live a mortal life with his double. He knew he was taking a big risk, but…He couldn’t kill her. He wouldn’t. Then she would be like Jack, living until the Vortex energy was eventually consumed and then dying for the final time while he stood aside, knowing that he could help but choosing not to because of his own weaknesses.
He lied to the Nobles, to Donna, to Wilf. There were other ways to save Donna, but staying with him could only result in something happening to her, something much worse than being given a Time Lord mind. So, he took her memories of him, of their travels, placed a failsafe in case of any more alien invasions on Earth, and then left. He couldn’t let any more people get hurt because of him.
He told himself that, over and over again, up until he could feel the radiation burning through him and through some sort of nostalgia began revisiting all of his companions, each and every one of them. He didn’t want to go, he couldn’t…but even then he was lying to himself.
Then, suddenly, he’s young. Well, younger. There’s a young girl with bright red hair and fish fingers and custard, and she’s absolutely brilliant. He tells her to wait for him for five minutes, even knowing full well that his TARDIS isn’t always the timeliest of vehicles, even if it does travel through time and should therefore theoretically always arrive on time.
After that, there’s hitting of cricket bats and running and shouting and more running and he jumps out of a cake and then there’s more running and shouting and then Rory is gone, and…He finds himself lying to Amy, almost constantly. Some little things, some big things, carefully walking his way around the large Rory-shaped hole in Amy’s life that she doesn’t even know exists. He finds that this is one thing that he doesn’t want to hide, doesn’t want to keep secret, but…He doesn’t want to hurt her, either. It’s better this way, for him to have never existed than for her to remember Rory, and mourn.
It reminds him of the Gamestation, and Jack. He wishes it doesn’t.
Time passes, and Rory comes back, and the Doctor finds himself lying again, faking his own death. It’s not until later that he realizes that faking his own death might become a thing.
Whenever he lies, he tells himself that he’s doing the right thing. He’s protecting his friends, his companions, his children. Even when Amy has been taken, even when the Doctor is walking around in a robotic double, he tells himself that he’s doing the right thing.
He knows that he’s made some bad decisions. He knows it, and now he tries to warn his companions. He tells them that he lies, but they always seem to ignore him or forget the possibility. They may just not be looking, listening, hard enough.
He tells himself that at least now they know.
They’ve been warned, and they know what they’re getting into when they travel with him.
He refuses to let himself second-guess himself, because his previous choices can’t be changed.
He just keeps going, doing the same thing he’s done for years.
He never looks back.