His gaze swept around the console room, landing on a small battered piece of paper, pinned up just left of the doorway. They were all there, the children of time as Davros had called them. Rose - The bad Wolf. Locked away in a parallel universe. He shook his head bitterly. Donna. Considered by some the most important human being alive. Memories wiped, back to thinking she was just like everyone else. Martha. The one who walked the earth. Brave Martha. He doubted many of his other companions could have done that. Working for UNIT, a normal being, fashioned into a weapon. Mickey - Rickey they idiot. Ended up with Martha, at least he was happy. Jack - the immortal man. Never dying, enduring forever. The result of a battle with the daleks. And Sarah Jane. Brilliant old Sarah. Saving the universe from an attic in Ealing. No-one could have done better.
There were more photographs underneath that one. A black and white one of Romana and K9 on Gallifrey. Another of Ace, then Jo Grant outside the tardis. Finally one of the Brigadier and Harry Sullivan, him standing in between them. He smiled, remembering the moment. Sarah had been threatening them, wanting the photograph for some reason he couldn't quite recall. With friends like that, who needed enemies?
It always results in war. No matter how hard he tries to stop it. He is hated throughout the universe. Not a silly, petty hate. No. At one point in his long life he will have angered them. Destroyed their planet, killed their leader. Because that's what he does.
The On-coming Storm. Fear Him.
But that's life. To save one you must loose another as they say. He saves millions, yet it is always the ones close to him that get it the worst. It's his fault.
After all that he always moves on. He has to. It's what stops him from going insane. Driven off the edge by sadness. And the survivors, promising never to forget, but every one moves on.
Despite all the monsters and demons he has faced. It's the ones that are conjured up by his own mind that scare him the most. The ones that visit him in his dreams. Tormenting him, making sure that as long as he lives, he will never forget the things he has done. But he always wakes up, rembering that those who visit him in his dreams are only echo's of good-byes long ago.
As he looks acreoos the battle field, he thinks is this what i have done? Is this what i have devoted my life to? In moments like this, it's harder than ever to pick himself up and carry on. A smile upon his face. Nobody seems to understand how painful being the savior of the univeres is. It shows that some of the best things come from the worst moments of our lives. But it's not always like that, sometimes he wins. Sometimes, Everybody lives.
But those moments are rare, scattered across the universe for only the lucky traveller to stumble across once in his lifetime.
So as he raises his arm to deliver the final blow, he thinks.
What do i stand for?
Am i the monster who tears down worlds with the blink of an eye? Am i the warrior who has fought with gods and monsters? Am i the soldier who claims never to fight, yet forges others into weapons? Or am i the man who never stops giving? The survivor that always pulls through? Am i the wanderer that never stops travelling, too scared to look back?
But he knows, in the bottom of his hearts, exactly who he is.
He is the man that makes the worst monsters from the deepest parts of hell, tremble at the mention of his name. He is the relentless fighter who never backs down. Yet he is the doctor, who never stops healing. The professor, who never stops teaching. But above all.
He is the madman who stole a box and ran away.
It's short, but i am quite pleased with it. Please tell me what you think, i like to know.
Shadowfax