The bazaar he traverses is multicolored and lively, yet does nothing to soothe the monotone ache he feels pulsing at the corner of his eyes. Too often he catches himself tensing the muscles in his neck to turn and look for her, and is repeatedly pulled back to his present; his ever pulsing pain. He performs his own perverse vigil by silencing the animalistic sobs which burn their way up his throat, crawl their way into his mouth, and die there. They leave salty corpses which he has grown to love in his own way. They remind him why he has come here in the first place and push him towards his purpose.
His eyes drift numbly over the endless rows of tents searching until he spots the alien script which reads "Memorial Ink." With his destination in mind he slowly pushes through the diverse crowd standing in between him and the tent, doing his best to avoid physical touch as much as possible. Even though he knows it's absurd, he is afraid that if he touches someone he will pass this despair onto them. There are very few beings he would wish his current pain upon.
He is thankful for the clothes that he has chosen as his proverbial armor; with his long trench coat billowing around him, most move out of his way. Or perhaps it is the look upon his face which he himself is fearful to see. Either way, in seemingly no time, (which he of all people would know to be untrue) he arrives to see a dark maroon curtain in his way functioning as a door. He slowly pulls it aside and steps through the threshold of the tent.
"Why Doctor, I wondered when I would see you again." The voice floating towards him belonged to the creature he came to see. He could say that she was female, as that was how she preferred to look. And he could say she was human, in a way. One with less knowledge could mistake her for one, except for the shapes and symbols which swam their way along her pale violet skin. She belonged to a species which became one with their art long ago, and are one of the few left who have the skills to give him what he came to acquire. He had met her once many regenerations ago. He was not surprised that she recognized him none the less. She was perceptive beyond her years.
"Hello Allitha. I…need your help." He felt momentary shame at how rough his voice was and the way it cracked around the word help. He quickly dismissed the feeling, considering she would soon know exactly why his voice sounded so dead. He averted his eyes when he felt hers roam up his body to his face; he didn't want to see the look of understanding which would soon fill her eyes.
"I know what you came here for, and I sense why. You know I will feel everything you do. I can feel your guilt for putting me though this, but don't worry Doctor. It is my job after all." She held up her hand towards him and he took it as a sign that she was willing to help. As he walked towards her, he took in his surroundings consciously for the first time since he stepped in. The tent was dark, and the floor was covered in pillows. He worked his way to the back and waded through the incense which wafted from a central dais. He chose a particularly large pillow and sat down next to her, removing his coat and other layers until he was naked from the waist up. His heart fell at the thought that she was the first to see him shirtless in an excruciatingly long time, and how much he wished it had been a certain pale human instead, and under very different circumstances. Before she was gone he would have relished at the thought, but now it was just a torturous reminder of what he could never have. With that fresh realization he couldn't contain the tears that rose within him and fell gently on the dark purple pillow below him.
"I realize that you know this already Doctor, but I have to remind you anyway, just in case you change your mind. Once it is in your skin, it is permanent. If you wish you could forget at a later date, you won't be able to change what has been done here. I will see and feel it all with you, and when I am done you will never forget, and the memories will be as vibrant and as perfect as when they occurred. Even through regenerations they will remain. Until you die your eternal death. This is the magic I can give you. Are you certain you want this?"
Her voice was professional, yet pain curled its way around it, and he wondered how many had come before him with the same desperate request. How many had loved and lost like he had? How many were willing to suffer endlessly just to remember the way her hair glinted in the sunlight, or the way her lips quivered when she was fighting a smile? How many were willing to never forget? To never heal? He laid back to bare his chest, and whispered a small yes as he closed his eyes to prepare himself.
"What will the image be?" She asked in a gentle tone. He had thought it would be hard to decide, since no image could truly give her multifaceted being justice, but the answer had come in a dream. He had been running through a forest, chasing after her blonde hair, knowing he could save her if he caught up to her. But when he finally broke through to a clearing and saw her, she was no longer human. A golden wolf stood before him, shining majestically in the moonlight. The gold was so familiar to him, the same color as her eyes when she fearlessly gazed into the vortex. The same gold he kissed to save her. When he woke he set a course for this planet, and knew what he must do.
"A golden wolf." He knew it didn't matter what pose she drew it in, it would move on its own anyway. With his answer in mind, she reached up to a shelf behind her and grabbed various black and gold bottles which emitted painfully familiar scents as she opened them. The Doctor recognized the smell immediately; how could he not when it filled his senses every time he had touched her, told her to run, hugged her?
Allitha grabbed her brushes, gently dipped one into the black ink, and ever so gently pressed the tip to the Doctors chest, just above the heart. The pain was immediate, which he could handle, but then the memories came, and he was gone.
He knew what would happen, but was none the less unprepared for the onslaught of her. The first time he saw her filled his mind, seeing her so scared, but when he took her hand she just trusted him immediately, and seeing that trust made him let out a small whimper, knowing she shouldn't have. All of the memories that rushed by were painful, but the one he dreaded came faster than he had hoped. The feel of her lips against his, with the time vortex flowing into his body was so utterly fantastic that he didn't mind that he was gonna die because of it. The endless possibilities for their life rushed past him inside her kiss, and he lingered on the hope of it all. The Doctor knew it was only a memory but fought to stay there, with her lips and her glow and her love. He had known she loved him, why had he never said it? With that thought he let out a scream of anger and rage at himself. She had deserved to hear it and now it was too late. His body convulsed under the brush as his mind sped on to newer memories.
Allitha felt the waves of pain pulse through him into her. They were dulled of course, but even then, she didn't think she had ever worked on someone who had so much guilt and pain inside. She let her own tears fall, yet her hands stayed steady as the wolf grew on his skin, and clawed inside his heart.
The Doctor was nearing his breaking point when he had to relive that damned pit, when the words were on the tip of his tongue. He could have said it then, even if it had been indirectly she still would have heard it. Instead he had said that she knew. How stupid, how idiotic he had been to hide it. He knew it was because he had naively thought it would never end. He of all people knew better. But he had lost himself in her, and in turn lost his chance. When their final moments came he knew he would break being forced to relive it again. His body trembled in pain and his sobbing was coming constantly now. He saw her tears falling as as she said those beautiful words. She loved him and he loved her as much as he loved anything in all his long years, and the words were coming fast now. They were on the tip of his tongue. Rose Tyler… His two hearts stopped when he realized that was it, she was gone, and his mind screamed I love you.
His body was covered in sweat and his face awash with tears when he opened his eyes and saw Allitha looking down at him with her own tears covering her cheeks. He looked down to see a beautiful golden wolf on his chest resting above his heart. The image of it brought one last small sob to his lips. At this sound she gave him a tight hug and whispered how sorry she was. Not as sorry as he was.
When he was dressed, he thanked her briefly, yet she knew there was much more behind that thank you than he let on. As he was about to exit the tent she asked him one last thing. "Doctor, why a wolf?"
He gave her a small smile, and left the tent. As he made his slow way back to the TARDIS, he realized why he didn't answer her. He could barely even admit it to himself. The dream was beautiful yes, but it was more than that. It had to do with what the wolf represented to him. As much as he knew it was impossible, he couldn't just let it go. He couldn't let the small splinter of hope to see her again go. Against all odds, he let a tiny piece of him believe. Not in himself. But in her. Always in her.
He thought of her smile, perfectly preserved in his mind, and the wolf howled.
