Disclaimer: Doctor Who isn't my property in any sense, other than the DVDs that I paid for~
Saying Goodbye
The First Farewell
Everybody knows that everybody dies. It's one of the few truths of the universe, and having seen both the beginning and the end of it I know that more than anyone. It doesn't mean I like it, though. Not a bit, and not when it happens as stupidly as this.
I like to think that I'm not one for sentimental gestures, not in this face at least, but she was fantastic. Just... absolutely fantastic. She saw six of my faces, might even have made the seventh if she'd not... well. Humanity is incredible, loving, kind, and caring, and still with the worst bits despite all that. One of the worse bits got to her, and the worst part is I probably could have changed it if I hadn't seen the gravestone last week. Or fifteen years ago, from the perspective of the rest of the world, but time's funny in the TARDIS. I sigh and kneel down so that I can trace my fingers over the inscription, slightly faded now. A little tear comes up in my eye and I brush it away as I read the dates, running my fingers over the name one more time before standing up and turning to move back to my TARDIS. I stop at the door, turning around to lean against it and look out at the grave, set between husband and child just so, and send her a sad smile. "Good-bye, my Sarah Jane."
And then I get back in my TARDIS and leave, pulling the lever to let the handbrake go for once. It seems proper to leave her in peace. And I remember, all day, every day, and I don't ever forget. And there are days when I wish I could, and days I'm glad I can't.