Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who :O! But I do own a red wine gum, would you like it?
A/N: Boo. Well. This is my first fanfic on here :O! Even though it's more of a sorta oneshot/drabble. And the idea's probably been done before. Anywho. If it's rubbish, do tell XD. No one would be nowhere without constructive comments!
And I'd like to dedicate this to Ally, who read it first. Solly read it second, so she gets a mention.
Anyhow.
----
Something's coming, and he knows it. He knows it only too well.
She thinks that they can't be split up. Not ever. But he's seen it, heard it, lived through it so many times that he knows she's wrong, and he doesn't have the heart to tell her, although this time more than any other time he hopes he's wrong, so ridiculously ludicrously wrong that it'll never ever happen. But it never will not happen. It will always happen. To him. Him alone. Plus those he travels with. Because he is different, and he has made them different...
He feels that this time, he's right, more right than he's ever been before and it's going to hurt him, and that frightens him. Frightens him- him, who is scared of virtually nothing!- so, so much.
So he does what he can. He takes her to the prehistoric times, to the Victorian age, to balls and parties, laughing and joking on the outside, but on the inside tensing, thinking "Is this it?" and knowing that it cannot go on this way much longer. That he will have to face it one day. Soon.
Something's coming...
She's started to notice the way he looks at her sadly, the way she'd sometimes catch him standing by her doorway when she was dozing, as though he wants to remember everything about her, from her snores to her mumblings in her sleep, and the way he'd start guiltily, as though this was not right, though she wants it to be right, she wants it to be right so much...
Something's coming...
So she starts to do it too. Because he does, if the Doctor does it, its right, so she thinks. She notices the little things, the things that she'd never give a second glance to normally, but something's making her do it, that little nag at the back of her mind growing bigger, and so she looks and looks and looks.
She starts to take photographs, a picture for every occasion, a picture of her room, the wardrobe, the food machine, so she'll have something to remember these years by. She takes a picture when she finds him sleeping, because he never does it. Ever.
Something's Coming...
He notices- of course he does- and he hasn't the hearts to stop her, for he knows every visit to a new place is one visit closer to whatever's going to happen, and he feels that she's either going to need these photos badly, or not need them at all, and he doesn't know which one of the two scenarios would be worse, because then he'd be left with either memories and photographs or a feeling of complete and utter helplessness, because he can't live a normal life with her, as much as he wants to, and so she'd have to find someone else to live this life with, and he doesn't know if he could bear that.
Something's coming...
So he starts to distance himself from her, nothing too noticeable, but just so that the parting, if it comes, when it comes, and as he knows it will come, is not as pronounced, as painful.
So he doesn't bring her breakfast, although he doesn't know if that will help or not, and she's about to say something about it when she catches that look in his eye which tells her to drop it. She says nothing too when she notices he's not as happy as he once was with her, and how when he hugs her he hangs on just that little bit longer. Squeezes her just a little bit tighter. She could swear her perfume's going missing, too. It frightens her, but he must have his reasons. If it IS him...
Something's coming...
There's a day with the difference. The one visit that didn't seem dangerous at all, that even seemed even safe. When he relaxed...
They visit Jackie, and there are ghosts, and there is a tang in the air, something sinister, and he doesn't like it one bit, and he thinks- knows- this is it.
Something's here.
And as he stands in the TARDIS with his image being pressed into her universe though the power of a dying sun, a mere speck upon his measure of grief for her, his image projected onto that beach in Bad Wolf Bay and gazes into her tear filled eyes, he sees the photos. The memories. The time she caught him sleeping. The scent of her perfume. The Autons. Her Mother. The way he never brought her breakfast.
He knows that all of his little efforts were in vain.
Because this parting was painful and still is. And he doesn't think he'll ever be the same again.
And it's those memories, those little efforts, that cloud his vision for a couple of seconds, and they're the most precious of little seconds, because he did not tell her the thing he wanted to say.
He's got to live with that.
Something's gone...
----
A HUGE thank you to the fantastic, amazing Scoutgirl, who betaed for me.