Just a quick warning: If you don't like songfics, then this really isn't the fic for you. This is my first try at writing a songfic, and I think it went quite well, but that might just be because I love the song so I feel that nothing, however terrible, could do it injustice (but I'm sure that I could if I really tried!).

Thanks to Noofle, for being the best BETA in the world and righting my many, many wrongs. Three cheers and a truck load of bananas are on the way (Though they might be a bit wet when they get there, as I have no money to pay for flights, so they're having to drive through the oceans.) They'll get there eventually, don't worry about it!

Song: Hand of Sorrow, by Within Temptation

Disclaimer: If you thought that I owned Doctor Who, then I'm going to ask you to write to the BBC and tell them to hire me, then we'll all be happy!

The child without a name grew up to be the Hand,

To watch you, to shield you,

Or kill on demand.

The choice he'd made he could not comprehend,

His blood a grim secret, they had to command.

They all left him in the end. All of them. No matter what they did or said, or said they would do, they would all leave him. Humans, as frail as they ever were. Being with him did not make them immortal - if anything it made them more vulnerable. And yet their names would live on forever in his memories - he would always remember them, their names and their faces. But not all of them would remember him. He was the Doctor. That was all they would ever know. To the rest of the Universe that was all he was, the man without a name or a home. In a way it was better that way, easier. Whenever he killed, whenever lives were lost around him, all the blame would fall onto a mask; a fake name. Sometimes it made it easer to deal with, but then sometimes it didn't. Whenever he was left alone they all came flooding back, everyone he had killed, all their faces. He remembered them too, as well as those who had fought with him, all those who had fought against him. And sometimes the faces merged together, when companions and friends had died, died in his name. As they all seemed to: Die in the name of a Fake Man.

He's torn between his honour and the true love of his life,

He prayed for both but was denied.

He could never die. They wouldn't let him. It wasn't that he wanted to die, but sometimes he just got tired of living. He could never die. He was the last one. If he died then there would be none left - They would all be gone. There would be no-one left to carry on. Time Lords really would be the stuff of myth and legend; a legend whose good name would be tainted by the blood spilled by his actions. This wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to live in peace. It would be nice if he didn't have to run for his life every few minutes, but of course, running was all part of the job. He ran from danger, ran from the truth, ran from death, ran from the darkness, and ran from what he had done.

So many dreams were broken and so much was sacrificed,

Was it worth the one we loved and had to leave behind?

When he had killed them all... He tried not to think about it. Why had it been left to him? What had he ever done to deserve that... No... THIS responsibility? He'd never been important before, and he'd been bullied as a result, just to prove how useless he was. Little had he known then, about what he would have to do. Was it worth it, now that they were all dead?

So many years have passed by, who are the noble and the wise?

Will all our sins be justified?

Could he ever forgive himself? Forgive what he'd done? No. How could he? How was he supposed to forgive something like that? He always told everyone that he'd had no choice, and it was true. But maybe if he'd had more time? Maybe then he could've thought of another way? A way to save them? Maybe. But now he'd never know. He could never go back, not even if he'd wanted to. The Time Lock would make sure that no-one would ever go back there, and he was glad - No-one should have to go back there, back to that, ever.

The curse of his powers tormented his life.

Obeying the crown was a sinister price.

His soul was tortured by love and by pain,

He surely would flee but the oath made him stay.

What if? Those two maddening words. Most species in the Universe were tormented by them, perhaps him more then anyone else. What if he hadn't done it? What if he had died with them? What if it hadn't been him? What if no-one had done it? Would the Dalek's have won? Would they still be alive? Would his people still watch over the whole of creation? What if they did? Would he be able to live the way he had only dreamed about, in his few brief moments of silence in an otherwise deadly game of life and death? And maybe the biggest "What If?" of all: What if the Time War had never happened? Would his companions all live to tell his tale of death? Would his tale be one of death at all? What if his was a tale of wonder? Would he still be the Doctor? Or was the Doctor a name reserved for killers? Killers who claim it was merely a slip of the hand?

He's torn between his honour and the true love of his life.

He prayed for both, but was denied.

So many dreams were broken and so much was sacrificed.

Was it worth the ones we loved and had to leave behind?

So many years have passed, who are the noble and the wise?

Will all our sins be justified?

Please forgive me for the sorrow for leaving you in fear,

For the dreams we had to silence; that's all they'll ever be.

Still I'll be the Hand that serves you,

Though you will not see that it is me.

Alone. He was always alone. No matter who was with him, always, forever alone. He could be surrounded by people on all sides, crushed to death in a throng of both friends and strangers alike, and yet he would still be alone. He would always be alone. And that alone was the one thing that would never change. Why did they always leave him? Was it because he should always be alone? Was it because Fate saw best to remove all possible distractions from his loneliness? If there was a chance that he could share his loneliness with one other person would Fate let him take it? The TARDIS was his only companion, his only connection to Gallifrey. She was always inside his head, singing her soothing melody to try to penetrate the depths of his guilt. But even she couldn't make him whole again though. She was always with him, and yet he was still so alone. So many had come and gone. So many had left him, and every time they took a piece of him with them. Eventually, he would be nothing but emptiness. The Time War had taken so much of him that he had told himself that he would never give himself away again. Then he had met Rose. Then Martha; and finally Donna. He had killed Donna; killed her with his own two hands. He had looked at her as she lay on the floor of the console room, the better part of her life suddenly ripped away from her, leaving her with a hole, like his, that could never be filled. So many had died in his name... So many, so many, so many...

So many dreams were broken and so much was sacrificed.

Was it worth the ones we loved and had to leave behind?

So many years have passed, who are the noble and the wise?

Will all our sins be justified?

I know, I know it's a teeny bit depressing, but I was in one of those moods! I can't help it! Feedback is seriously loved, and it makes me write faster! *Hint hint* You know what to do, my minions... (What? Don't look at me like that! I can dream, can't I?)

Reviewers get bananas!