Let's face it , The God Complex was just begging for Fanfics to be written about it.

Here is my take on the final scene, I hope you enjoy.

The Doctor and I lean against the car, the type Rory's always on about.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" I ask quietly.

I hope against hope that the Doctor will laugh and say "of course not," but deep down I know that he won't.

"You haven't seen the last of me," he says, "Bad penny is my middle name…seriously the looks I get when I fill in a form, it's…" he tails off. Joking is easy, a distraction. It's much easier to joke than admit to what's happening.

"Why now?" I ask. Why not in a year or two, or twenty? I don't want to go back to my normal life. I want to stay with him and Rory in the magic blue box forever.

After a pause, the Doctor sighs, "Because you're still…breathing," I can tell it's not really what he means, but it's as close as he'll get using our language. The Doctor smiles thinly and looks at his battered shoes.

I don't know what to say, so I joke. As I said, joking is easier. "Well, I think this is about the washing up, personally,"

The Doctor laughs his donkey-like, cartoonish laugh, and I laugh too, although somehow it sounds more like a sob.

"I mean, you're right," the Doctor continues rapidly, sounding like he does normally, his clever-mad-man-in-a-box shtick. "There's still heaps of stuff out there too look at," he launches himself off the car and turns to face me. "D'you know, there's a planet whose name literally translates as Volatile Surface,".

I giggle. Giggling is better than crying. The Doctor stop is the TARDIS door, hands in pockets. He hesitates. "Or maybe there's a bigger, scarier adventure waiting for you in there,".

I follow his gaze towards the house. That house symbolises normality, safety…do I really want that? Can I go back to a job and a house and…whatever else ordinary people do? No?

I look back at the Doctor and I realised that that's what he wants for me. He wants me to be ordinary, because it's the one thing he wants to be, yet he never can. A million thoughts stumble through my brain, but one falls harder than the rest- I don't want to leave him.

"Even so, it can't happen like this. After everything we've been through, Doctor, everything," . Prisoner Zero. Churchill and the Daleks. The Weeping Angels. Vampires in Venice. Silurians. The Big Bang. The Silence. Pirates and Sirens. The Flesh. Apulapachia. River Song.

Everything.

"You can't just drop me off at my house and say goodbye like we've shared cab!" I feel like I'm begging him.

The Doctor doesn't reply but I can read his face. He's sad, confused, hurt. He doesn't want to do this.

"And what's the alternative?" he asks, "Me standing over your grave? Over your broken body? Over Rory's body?"

Then I understand. He's leaving us to keep us safe. He's leaving us because he can't risk us getting hurt, or killed. The last thing he wants is to be alone, but he's sacrificing what he wants for our safety.

Suddenly I realise how brave he is, brave and noble and strong. Giving up his friends to keep them safe. I feel so sorry for him, so sad.

Instinctively, I pull him towards me in a hug, wrap my arms around his back, stroke the hair at the nape of his neck. I feel him press his forehead to my shoulder, and I an unexpected maternal feeling towards him washes over me. I want to be able to comfort him, but there's no way to. I bite my hand to stop myself crying.

Finally I pull away and rest my hands on his shoulders.

"If you run into my daughter, tell he to visit her old mum sometime," I smile, knowing he will meet my daughter again, and maybe she'll drop by. Maybe he will too. I smile at the thought, and he smiles back.

"And look after him," he says softly. He doesn't need to elaborate, know he means Rory, and of course I'll look after Rory. Always.

"Look after you," I reply. Without Rory and me, he's only got himself to keep an eye on him.

He smiles a sad smile, and maybe to make up for its sadness, winks. Without thinking about it, I kiss to top of his head like he does sometimes to me. I feel sort of like I'm the old, wise one and he's the child. A lost, lonely little boy.

He looks at me and I think he's about to cry, but then he smiles and abruptly turns away. He stops in the TARDIS doorway, and he must have composed himself now, because he smile is more real. He makes a funny little bumbly wave, and I laugh at the oh-so Doctor-like gesture. We look at each other one last time, and then the TARDIS door swings shut.

Rory comes back out of the house, carrying a bottle of champagne, and, I notice, three glasses.

"What's happening? What's he doing?" he asks, bewildered. The TARDIS begins to churn, and then fades leaving a flurry of leaves as the only sign it was there. I look up into the sky, imagining the TARDIS spiralling through it.

"He's saving us," I whisper. Rory, still muddled, puts an arm around my shoulders, and the sudden contact makes me burst into tears. Rory shushes me and holds me close, and I cry into his chest. I can't speak yet, but I think my husband realises that the Doctor has left us.

Left us and flown off into the universe- the raggedy man, all alone in the sky in his big, blue box.

Thank you so much for reading. Love it, hate it, anything in between, all reviews are greatly appreciated.

Thanks again.