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Enjoy.
Quite Right Too
The Doctor had two choices. One, he could blend in the shadows and lose himself in the darkness as it was probably expected of him. Two, he could continue and fight. He didn't really know what to fight for anymore, but he knew he had to fight. When people were oppressed, captured, tortured, manipulated and Rassilon knew how long the list went on, he would fight for them. No, even better, he would save them. Yet there was this nagging voice injecting a venom called truth in his ear: how can you save them when you failed to save your own people?
The Doctor knew better than to give in to this annoying presence in his mind that held him back. Thus he buried away, forgotten of all. There started the journey of the Doctor. Saving the world was his duty. His schedule consisted of waltzing on the frontiers of death, rescuing innocent people from battles, going back in time to solve a misstep, ensuing everyone's security, discovering plots to overthrow governments and restoring peace in different dimensions – all of this in one single day. He always made sure to get back to the TARDIS for tea.
Oh, look at what the cat dragged in. The Oncoming Storm.
His life as the Doctor would've been fantastic if it hadn't been of the Oncoming Storm, of the Destroyer of Worlds. Oh, the Doctor wasn't daft; he sometimes saw the gleam of fear passing through the eyes of the people he saved. He didn't miss the slight moment of hesitation when he held his hand to someone, when he asked them to follow him, when he insisted everything would be alright. This lack of faith didn't seem to bother him though, so people continued acting as they always acted. Yet in the end, deep down in the Doctor's core, those trifles to others were stab wounds at both of his hearts. They all knew – he included – about the terrific Time War and how it had affected his home world – how he had been affected. If he had destroyed an entire civilisation – his own civilisation! –, then nothing guaranteed that he wouldn't mind destroying another. They feared that one wrong movement would suffice to spark the flame within him, igniting his wrath. They didn't know that fearing him, in fact, was this one wrong movement.
You know what, they keep trying to split us up, but they never, ever will.
The Doctor had grown bitter, despite his firm resolution not to lose his spirit. Everyone who took the time to look at him would see the scars crisscrossing his soul. The corners of his lips twitched, his smile turning into a grimace. His eyes didn't twinkle with fiery enthusiasm. His stance was tense as if ready to go to war again. His fingers sometimes clenched in tight fists before relaxing. The Doctor always had been a tricky personage, excellent at shifting discussions when it got too personal, and outstanding at hiding his emotions. He was a living legend, a breathing miracle since he should've perished with the Time Lords, and for that people stared at him with both admiration and suspicion. He was deemed 'eccentric' and 'uncommon', but he appeared to be pleasant at first glance.
I made my choice a long time ago, and I'm never gonna leave you.
It was rumoured he had developed a fondness for human females, for one often accompanied him in his numerous adventures. Since he was the last of his kind, and his spaceship was the last also, it sounded logical that he sought for a partner. The Doctor's enemies targeted this companion, and the rest of his actions were predictable. The Doctor came to rescue her, braving all odds just to put her to safety. The companion obviously already knew about the danger, ears bleeding from the speeches she had to endure from her family and the Doctor himself, but she had nonetheless willingly followed him through time and space. Most of parents disagreed upon seeing their daughter leaving with a stranger – an alien stranger – aboard what looked like a tiny blue box – but it was bigger on the inside – to reach out for the stars. They heard about her travels and the marvels she had encountered – this night on this planet, the temperature of that planet, a joust on Earth during the Middle Ages or the alien plot they had dismantled on the Earth ten thousand years in the future. When they exhorted her to come back home, she would refuse, claiming that the Doctor needed her.
Mum. I've had a life with you for nineteen years. But then I met the Doctor. And all the things I've seen him do for me, for you, for all of us, for the whole... stupid planet and every planet out there... He does it alone, Mum. But not anymore. 'Cause now he's got me.
The Doctor often prided himself with the thought that he didn't need anyone. He could handle saving the world alone, and he even had enough time to prepare cucumber sandwiches. As long as he got the TARDIS and a sonic screwdriver – and you can also add a pinstripe suit while you're at it – then he was fine. Companions were the plus of the voyage, his reward after committing a marvellous deed such as restoring the balance of the universe. There were some humans who proved to be witty enough to keep up with him, brave enough not to flee in front of trouble and curious enough to accept his invitation. He had had many companion, all of them were unique, and he had never regretted taking them with him. However, the Doctor never had been fond of goodbyes and surely never will be. He preferred thinking that there were no goodbyes.
You just leave us behind. Is that what you're going to do to me?
"No."
The word escaped his lips as a murmur, in a soft breath that wasn't even enough to push a feather. Yet it had been said. The Doctor blinked, his hands trailing aimlessly on the console of the TARDIS. He had always felt alone. When the Time Lords still exist, he knew that he wasn't alone. When his species vanished, the faint presence in his mind did the same, leaving nothing but a gaping hole. He had the TARDIS though, and her comforting humming often brought him to sleep when he felt restless and anxious. Then, he had met R– he had met her. She had brought more life in his life than anyone else before. And she – a human, a mere human – had been able to make him smile a real smile, with all the crinkles near the eyes and the showing teeth since ages. With her by his side, he had observed how wonderful life was, now that she was in his world. When she was with him, he wished time could freeze, and they could spend the rest of their lives together.
He took a deep breath and whispered, "How long are you going to stay with me?"
As if in a dream, he heard her voice answer back, Forever. They had been blissful, back then. He had believed it, back then. He had sincerely believed that R– that she would stay with him until the end of time. It just seemed right – the Doctor and her, forever and always. It was ridiculous that he had wrapped himself in his fantasies, but a world with her was better than any promised paradise. Oh, how he wished this cursed battle on Canary Wharf was just a nightmare. How he wished he could open his eyes, find himself staring at the ceiling of the TARDIS, or perhaps meeting her eyes shining with amusement as he would stretch out and rise. Then, they'd eat breakfast, laugh together, bring the TARDIS somewhere and at some point through history, save the world, leave, drink tea and buy some chips. If he had known what the future had in store for them, he would've told her before.
And I suppose... If it's my last chance to say it...
He shook his head, shutting his eyes tight, "Oh, she knows."
Or rather, Rassilon, I hope she knows! The three words had left in a barely audible whisper inside the TARDIS – not in front of Rose Tyler as it should've been. No, it should've never been. The Daleks and Cybermen sucked in the Void – alright, that should've been. Rose Tyler being pulled in yet saved by her parallel father and transported in another universe – never should've been. Yet it happened, and the Doctor was stuck on the other side.
Rose Tyler...
He had been able to talk to her two precious minutes but it hadn't been enough – the Time Lord running out of time. He had told her everything else – everything else that was superfluous compared to the weight of the three words he should've told her first. He had never uttered such words before. He had never thought it was possible for his hearts to be stolen – by a human, but such a beautiful, fantastic, amazing and brilliant human! But he knew – had known for such a long time – that he had fallen for her, yet fear – of what? – had kept him from admitting it. It had always been implied: a loving glance sideways, a hug that lasted a few seconds longer and a tender smile in her direction.
I... I love you...
No, the three words that she had got as answer were: "Quite right too."
