Touched
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
He looks into this man's eyes, and he can't imagine how he could possibly do this. I mean, he knows how – he's done it to save the life of his absolute best friend… but part of him also knows that his best friend, the one he tried to save by doing all this, is already dead, no longer existing, without hope of ever existing again. And he's directly responsible for her death. Again, he finds himself a guilty murderer. But sitting before the two people on the sofa he knows he must do his best to keep his emotions hidden.
Even as he leaves the house and shares words with the man so caring and kind, he is touched by the question he utters about him and his loneliness. The very thought that this man can express concern after the horrible thing he has done, or pledge to keep an eye out for him among the night skies, after returning his granddaughter in such a state, is enough to bring him to tears right there in the puddle-soaked street.
The unyielding loyalty and goodness of mankind is one of the reasons he cares so much for it, but he can't help the thought from snaking through as he enters his TARDIS, that this pain that accompanies the wrenching detachment from friendships with those he comes to love and care for, as painful as all the ones he has experienced by now, could be a reason to stay far away.
But he knows that he is a bit of a masochist. He can't help himself. It is in his nature.
Each companion he has known has left a hole in him, and he wonders how much of him is left for new holes – there isn't much room. He feels like a sheet that has been used for target practice, blowing in the wind, not caring which way the tattered remains of the fabric is tugged.
Donna Noble wasn't the first, she won't be the last. She is another nightmare, another ghost that will haunt him for the rest of his days. She deserves so much more, but he feels deep inside he deserves nothing less than this pain, this loneliness, this curse to repeat the cycle over and over again. How many more times will he find himself at the crossroads, wondering if he should find a cave to dwell in for eternity, or face the next adventure with another friend by his side he knows is at risk of being lost.
He closes his eyes and sees her face, sees her eyes filled to the brim and overflowing with glistening tears, having such faith in him to let her stay, to somehow fix things so she wouldn't have to go. And those same tear-filled eyes look out from the face of Wilfred, holding the same amount of faith in him, even after all he has done.
And he wonders how, if ever, he can cope.
Okay so, I still don't know that there's any other Doc/Donna fics to come from me, I don't think I've got enough mojo to make it happen. This one doesn't even have Donna in it really, that should tell me something... but I thought of this while watching some old episodes, specifically Journey's End. If you don't mind, let me know if you liked this teeny drabble or not, thanks of course!