A/N: This story might be quite triggering for some people since this story has a really depressing content, so be warned!

Healing

Have you ever experienced death? Well I don't mean death in literal terms, I mean when you're stuck in between life and death? Emptiness, emotional numbness, like you're disconnected from reality. It feels as if you're not real but just a hollow organism without real feelings, you wonder if you're really just some goddamn machine or something like that. Sometimes I'd just simply sit and gaze at the ceiling and daydream about when life was good...Ah those were the good days, but like everything those good things had to come to an end. I kill. Everyone I love eventually gets killed and it's all my fault! I try to act like the fun, loving and adventurous fellow I make myself out to be around Amy and Rory but trying to live up to their expectations all the time kills me inside.

Or am I really dead?

"Doc-"..."Can you hear m-" I heard a faint muffled voice echoing into the ears of my unconscious body, causing my head to throb in pain. I suddenly noticed that I was lying on a particularly cold, hard surface while somebody had a firm hold of my left arm and...wait...why does it feel wet?

I struggled to open my eyes but eventually let out a slight hissing noise as soon as I felt a sharp pain in my left wrist, my eyes shot open like a bullet and I suddenly remembered what I had done.

It was barely past midnight, I was pacing back and forth in the control room and my thoughts were racing around and around like there was no tomorrow. I cried out in agony as I gazed down at the bottom of my lower left sleeve and witnessed a dark red liquid soaking it as the minutes went by and told myself that this is for the best and that if I didn't proceed in doing this then Amy and Rory would eventually die. After all, my companions usually do once they become close to me.

The only thing I could smell was my own blood, dripping out of my sleeve and onto the sturdy glass floor and each drop was exactly one second apart. I had thrown the blade I used to the other side of the room, into the grasp of the shadows.

Then all of a sudden the last nine hundred-and-odd years came rushing back to me, I remembered everything I had ever done. Each story filled my mind like a piece of a jigsaw puzzle and I can honestly say that it killed me just to even think about all those who had lost their lives because of my own stupidity.

I snapped out of it and refused to let silly little sentiment get in the way, I couldn't care less if it caused my companions to get all weepy about it...Well I could and I know how soppy those poor sods can get but it's for their own good. I'm doing this for them.

After a couple of minutes I decided to pull my soaked sleeve down, gaze at the large gash on my blooded wrist and squeezed even harder to make the process quicker. I couldn't even notice the tears streaming down my face like the many droplets of a waterfall would, racing towards the bottom of my face like it was a competition.

I promised myself that this time I wouldn't even bother to regenerate. Instead I just waited for the darkness to take over, to end my hurt, my future, my everything.

Then everything went black.

My inner conscience was screaming in frustration at the fact that I'm still alive, no l'm honestly being serious here. I thought I'd done the job, but why am I still breathing?

I stared at the ceiling in confusion and until a blurred figure came into sight and leaned over my half-conscious body, probably thinking I'm off my rocker for doing what I did or something along those lines but then that figure became more clear and Rory came into sight.

"R-Rory?" I muttered softly while the teary man just stared at me as if he was asking me why? It felt like a blanket of guilt was suffocating me, I've always hated to see the poor boy cry. To feel even an ounce of pain. I didn't know that he was going to react like this, I thought he hated me after that kiss I had with Amy but I was clearly mistaken.

I lifted my head a little to see that he had used his dark grey jacket to put pressure onto my throbbing wound, to keep me alive. It was pretty much my life-support machine at this point.

"Don't move!" the frantic nurse ordered me, half-concerned and half-angrily. "You've lost a lot of blood"

"I-I'm so sorry" I informed him in such a quiet whisper but he didn't answer back. He just gazed at me, expressionless for a moment while still pressing down hard on my wound before shaking his head in disappointment. It had been a while since I saw him so distressed and I often took the mick out of him for it, but this time I just wanted to put a smile on his face and take it all away.

"Stay with me buddy" he muttered under his breath and took hold of my hand, that immediately forced me to regret what I had done to myself. I thought he'd be a little upset, but not like this.

Then, the darkness took over once more.

A/N: Sorry for the depressing content! I promise the next chapter will be better and more fluffier!