Angels in the Dark, a doctor who fanfic

Angels in the Dark

Based on a semi-dream, and written for two reasons. Firstly, to remember the sheer fabulousness of a certain Doctor, whom I will never forget; and secondly, to solve something I've wondered/moped about ever since a certain episode. Because I don't think a promise of the Doctor's is a promise to be broken, even in the face of disaster.

I don't own anything but my imagination.

To someone who remembers nothing other than living, death is a frightening experience.

The fear is almost all I remember, now, the fear and then the darkness. I don't remember whether it hurt; my scream was in terror, not in pain. I can still hear its last echoes in my ears, if I concentrate. It felt strange to hear my voice fading away into the void, silenced in one single moment.

The darkness was peaceful, though, after it all. That I remember. It felt good, in a distant, detached way, to be away from the shooting and the tears and the bad memories. Away from all the people, their panic and fear and cruelty and sadness. There was peace, and an almost unbearable silence.

From the edge of eternity, everything in the world I had left suddenly seemed so simple, as if it had been meant to be all along. Like the future was planned, by someone more powerful than anyone I'd ever met. Somehow, even my death wasn't the everyday, meaningless stuff of television shows and nightmares. For the first time in my life, I was significant. I was someone.

But that someone would never return. I had to turn away from the life I had known, and walk into the darkness.

And yet… I remembered him, the Doctor. He was still there, in the world of the living, without me. I found myself wondering whether he would be all right on his own. That incorrigible, alien man, the Doctor, with his brilliant smile, his crazy daring, his way of setting flames alight in people's hearts. Even mine.

He had lit up the little world I lived in, when he arrived. He had shown me that the way my life was didn't have to go on without end. He had made me realise there was more than the things I saw around me. And, for a while, he had promised me I would be all right. That it wouldn't end this way.

He had been wrong. I didn't resent him for it. No-one can see the future, after all. This was the final vidscreen of my story, the final step of the dance. My last breath in the living world had been taken helping him, and I didn't regret it. But I couldn't help him any more.

So I stood in the darkness, waiting to see what would happen next, wondering if anything would happen at all. Perhaps I'd just be here, a lonely little angel in the dark for the rest of time.

Then, a short distance away and without warning or explanation, I saw her.

It seemed impossible. She couldn't be dead, not like me. He would have protected her to the last, I knew, staying by her side even if he could do nothing else.

And yet I saw her, alone, shining in the shadows, her fair hair streaming out as if it had been caught in an air-fan's draught. Somewhere out in front of me, she was there, and yet not quite there, dancing on the edge of the darkness like a beautiful spirit.

It was the most perfect sight that I had ever seen.

As she moved closer, her whole body seemed to glow with light, as though she was blazing with an inner fire. She moved with a bearing and confidence I hadn't seen before, as graceful as an angel.

And I realised: She was not the girl I had seen before, by the side of the Doctor. The lines had blurred between her spirit and his, her compassion and his power, her innocence and his experience. She had his knowledge, and he had her sincerity. It didn't make any sense to me. Yet here at the edge of the darkness, where there were no illusions any more, it was somehow true.

I followed the gaze of her bright eyes, and saw another figure standing in the shadows, an odd smile on his face as he watched. I recognised him; though I didn't know his name, he'd come with them. Was he dead, then? Did the Doctor care enough about helping us to give up one of his own?

She stretched out a hand, and he was suddenly in the centre of a long trail of light. The next moment, he had vanished from my sight, and all I could hear was her soft breathing.

The next moment, there were others, passing by me in a gentle stream. I saw more faces I knew from before, each vanishing in a swirl of golden fire. She was no longer smiling. Her blazing eyes were blank and vacant, and her body was almost as clear and real as my own. With the knowledge that you can only possess on the edge of eternity, I knew why.

Angel of life. As they rise, you will fall.

She turned, and I saw her looking at me. One hand reaching toward me, she looked as if she was inviting me to dance.

"No." I shook my head. "You'll kill yourself. Don't do this." I remembered the face of the Doctor when he thought she was gone. "He needs you."

He is me. I am him. I am everything. I see everything.

I promised you would be all right.

She turned her gaze on me, the full force of timelessness.

Time is an illusion. Death is an illusion.

You did not die. The moment of your death does not even exist on the scale of eternity.

Nothing is forever. Your little time will be fleeting enough.

So, for this moment: Breathe. Live.

The light enveloped me like a wave of golden silk, burning ice-cold as I stood in front of her. Still she danced, coming closer and closer to the darkness.

Then he was there, the one who had given me his promise, holding her in his arms, clutching her tight. They were no longer one dreamlike being, but two lost spirits, together even here. Holding her back from the edge of eternity, he pressed his lips to hers in a kiss.

My world filled with light.

When the brightness faded, I felt the cold of a metal floor on my back. There was darkness above me, but not the endless dark of the world beyond. Somewhere, I could hear voices, and I saw the unbroken glass of the window over my head, with the peaceful stars behind it.

I was breathing. I was alive.

Outside, I searched the crowds in vain for the two faces I needed most of all. There were people everywhere, the ones she had saved, crying, trembling, staring at the walls or at one another. But the two of them were nowhere to be found.

They were gone, and somehow, I knew it was forever. I would never know whether his coming had saved her from her sacrifice, or whether he had simply followed her into the dark. Sometimes, the answers you need most never come. But I had a duty.

I knew I was no longer the peaceful, all-knowing spirit I had been in the darkness. I was back to being clumsy, naïve, uninspired. No matter. It would have to do.

The lights flickered on again above my head. Guiding the hands of the others around me, I adjusted the equipment until it would serve the purpose I wanted. I took a deep breath, and pinned the small clip microphone to my torn clothes. These people, the ones she had had the time to save, were in my hands now, and I had to get them down to our broken planet. If I had to, I would broadcast messages to Earth until the end of time.

I had lost the game of life. But they had broken the rules for me, and I would live to play another day. And I would do my best, in memory of an inspiring, extraordinary stranger, and for a dancer at the edge of eternity.

Author's Note: …Yeah. Not my usual style—or, indeed, fandom—at all. I really, really hope it's possible to tell who the narrator is, and who "she" is. If there's already an official explanation for what happened to the narrator and the world around this story, I'm sorry. Feel free to review, whether the comments are good or bad.