Title: Story
Author: tromana
Rating: T
Characters: Romana, Doctor
Summary: Not all reunions start or end happily. Doctor/Romana
Spoilers: Slight for Journey's End
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. Not surprising, really.
Notes: FANFIC:100. Prompt: Rage.

Story

There's her quarters, exactly as you remembered them. That slightly clinical look, the one that you never thought suited her. But since when did she listen to you? And there she is, too. She had a chance to get away, but she stands there, stoic, proud. Looking out upon the view you had never been sure about; it always made you feel trapped. Today, it feels like more like a relief that it's still here. Whatever, if it was you in her shoes, you would have ran for those hills you can see past her, wouldn't you?

Time has been kind to her. Well, at least kinder to her than it could have been. Part of you wishes it hadn't been. But can you really wish physical suffering upon her? After all, she always finds a way to win you over, to make the wrong seem right, doesn't she? You try to catch her gaze, but she somehow manages to avoid it. A century before, she would have ran into your open arms and all would be well.

But that was before... Well, you know, don't you? There's time for that later.

Her name slips through your lips. The full one, not the diminutive. You're not sure if it feels good or not. That doesn't stop you relishing every syllable as her gaze slowly rises upwards to finally acknowledge your presence fully.

She steps forward and takes your hand. Her petite fingers slip through your gangly ones. It would feel right if it didn't feel like your skin is on fire. There's no denying it any more. She's alive, you are too. And so is the rest of the damn planet. It isn't a dream this time around.

You shake off that hand and take a step back.

"I'm going to tell you a story."

Did you mean to sound so angry? Whatever, it suits your mood. Well, sort of. It's all kind of mixed up, isn't it? She moans, asking you not to. The guilt is apparent on her face, unless she's getting better at confusing you. It would have been enough to stop you before, wouldn't it?

"It's about two people. No one knew his name, but everyone referred to him as the Doctor. A healer, it's ironic, isn't it? When the only person who really needs healing is him. Her name, Romanadvoratrelundar. She'd let you call her Romana if she liked you. If she didn't, you probably didn't know her name at all.

They both came from a planet, it's name is a legend across time and space. Except for the end of the Universe. Don't go there, it's quite humbling. Gallifrey. He hated the place, she was proud to come from there. She had all the attributes of a typical Gallifreyan, but was significantly more intelligent. He was a renegade, never seen as being particularly welcome on the planet, yet they were paired together to find a Key. When they were finished, she was meant to go home but something changed within her, both of them even. She stayed, and they were happy for a while, at least."

You glare at her, hoping to see any kind of reaction from your words. Knowing she can't do anything about it, she appears to be just listening to you. She has taken respite behind that rather ornate desk though. As if a desk could shield her from what you need to say.

"She left him. Something to do with the Universe not being big enough for the both of them. She left, and walked into a different Universe; tearing both his hearts apart with every footstep she took.

He was thrilled when he found out she'd returned home. Slightly shocked that she had decided to become President. He thought she'd learned more about the wider Universe than to sacrifice herself to that lifeless job. But still… she'd be safer, there."

"Doctor.."

She whispers it; you barely notice.

"Then comes the war. The Time War. They comfort each other's rattled bones at night. At least, he feels comforted every time he holds her slender body close to him. She tells him the only way she apparently knows to end the War. She says he's the only person she can trust.

He trusts her explicitly; too.

They spend that last night together. Explosions from the incoming fleet continue around them, but they are just about safe in her Presidential quarters. He holds her tight, strokes her matted hair. Places the gentlest of kisses on old battle wounds. It's little comfort for him, this time. Knowing the sentence she has placed on him. What it means for her, too.

He never wants those suns to rise."

You swear you see her wipe a tear from those ageless eyes. Otherwise, she appears to be emotionless. There you are, pouring your hearts out to her and she has nothing in response.

"However, rise they do. Even the Guardians of Time can't stop time from progressing for too long, so what hope does one mere Time Lord have?

He kisses her goodbye, desperately wishing that she'd come with him. He thinks she's being too proud. She may be in charge, but why does she have to go down with the sinking ship? Still, he does what she asked of him. It's all he can do. It's agony for him to watch what is happening below. His TARDIS can barely cope and he and his precious machine are thrown from the destruction of his home planet like a piece of flotsam thrown from the sea.

His mind is empty, too empty. It's enough to cause him to regenerate. That old body had been faced with hell one too many times."

"You never liked the planet, anyway."

She recoils at your glare and becomes almost timid. It's strange to see her in such a position.

"Yes, but what is a man without his home?He travels, listless. Empty. Befriends a few humans. They burn so bright for such a short period of time, especially compared to one of his kind. He does them more harm than good. He notices, but can't stop. He needs their company to fill up that empty hole. It's greedy, sure. But it's what he's always done, since his Granddaughter left, anyway."

She's begging now. You've never seen her look so hopeless, not since the War. It's not enough, still not enough.

"And then, he's on his own again. The last human he knew would die upon any mention of him. It's safer this way, for all those concerned.

What does he find but that old home planet? Exactly as it was, orbiting two suns, the glass dome looking spectacular as it caught the light of one of them. The trees shining in a way that only trees with silver leaves can.

He lands outside of the dome. The orange sky is as crisp as it ever was. The outlands have never looked so beautiful to him.

He finds her. Almost as he left her, as composed, as beautiful as ever. Like she was preserved with the rest of this planet. What's he meant to think, Romana? Tell me, what am I meant to think?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean, 'I don't know'?"

"I didn't want to do it. It was the only way."

Teardrops cascade down her face, but you feel little sympathy. She was part of the orchestration of your loneliness, and she conducted it perfectly. Well, almost. If it had been perfect you wouldn't be standing here right not.

You take a deep breath before stalking towards your TARDIS. The one that you survived in, in the apparent explosion of your home planet. Your only faithful friend. She may have her problems, but she wouldn't leave you, or shut you out. Willingly or not. You unlock the doors; they seem to take forever to creak open.

"You coming?"She nods a timid nod, gathers her robes and disappears inside.

If it was you, you wouldn't dare set foot in there, would you?

But she's always been made of stronger stuff than you, hasn't she?

End.