To Hell With The World

Disclaimer: I do not pretend to own any of the characters in this story. That would just be asking to be sued. Lyrics at the beginning belong to David Ford – To Hell With The World

Author's Note: Okay, apologies for the crazy level of angst here. I just couldn't help it, it wouldn't leave me alone.

So to hell with the world, I still love you my girl,

You've been crazy to stay by my side,

So let's stand and let's sing, and there are beautiful things

If you know the places they hide

And the band's playing tunes that mean nothing to you,

But you can dance better with the devil you know

All along I was taught to keep my head above the water,

But I might just prefer it below

Yes, and maybe the greatest of heroes

Inhabit the stories that nobody hears,

Yes, and maybe these songs that could've brought you to life

Weren't allowed to come close to your ears

So to hell with the world, I still love you my girl,

You've been crazy to stay by my side,

So let's stand and let's sing, and there are beautiful things

If you know the places they hide

It had been seventy years since he'd seen her that last time. Since he'd looked into her eyes and seen no recognition and known… Just known that it was the end. Occasionally he snuck back, occasionally he broke the rules. Sometimes he visited her when she was younger, much younger than he'd ever known her, and just watched her play with her friends- he enjoyed watching the innocence he'd never experienced. Occasionally, when he was feeling especially brave or ridiculously reckless he'd visit version of her he knew. Never speak to her, never get too near but just watch her living, laughing and breathing. He knew it was stupid, he knew the risk he took every time he crossed his own time line but he just didn't care any more. He was so very old now. So very old and bitter and twisted. All his life he'd been careful and watchful and oh so very good and where had it got him? He was an old man sitting alone on a bench staring at a tree.

Even his companions couldn't cheer him up any more. Since her he'd lost her he'd let a few people fly with him but they were all so easily impressed, so taken with him, so damn stupid compared to her that he'd never stayed with anyone for longer than a few trips. He found that even when he was with them he felt alone. All the people he'd lost, all the pain he'd suffered just became too much when she was added to the list. The straw that broke the camel's back so to speak. And he felt truly broken. He avoided the places in the universe that could remind him of her. There were rooms in the TARDIS that were sealed to everyone, himself included, because it was so painful to remember and even more painful to contemplate forgetting. There was a new dullness in his eyes that seemed to deepen every day.

All his long life he'd never minded being alone because he'd never before properly been together before. Never felt so completed by someone, never been understood by another being in the way that she understood him. With her everything had been easy, simple. It had finally felt like he was where he should be. After all the loss, all the pain, he felt like he'd received the reward he deserved. He'd been happy. And then she'd been gone. Stupid, stupid human that she was. And the worst part was that he knew she was still out there somewhere but he couldn't touch her, could never hold her again. Somewhere out there, somewhere in all of this time and all this damn space, she was falling in love with him, marrying him, dying for him but he could never reach her. He just had to journey on and on knowing it was over.

All he had left was this old tree and this bench. All he had left of the woman he'd loved for so long and lost for so much longer was initials carved into a tree and a scrap of ribbon tied around a branch. He remembered when they'd come here together. She'd been so young and he'd been so smitten just watching her run about the park. She'd brought a picnic. She'd worn a summer dress and a red ribbon in her hair. They'd laughed together all day about all the things they'd done and all the things they would do. They'd sat there until the moths fluttered low about their heads. She'd kissed him against a tree and carved their initials into it with her pen knife. They'd made love on the picnic blanket and her ribbon had fallen out of her hair. Later, she'd picked it up and tied it around one of the branches. As he held her that night she'd said she wished this could last forever and he'd said it will, don't worry. He'd never lied to her before.

As he picked up his knife and dug those letters in a little deeper he felt a fresh surge of anger sweep through him. Who made these stupid rules? Why did she have to die there, die then, when he could have had so many more years with her… so many more memories. He hated time. The stupid fixed points, the stupid lines that you just couldn't cross otherwise the whole world would implode. Sometimes, just sometimes, he thought that the world could go to hell if it meant he could just have one more journey with her. Just to hear her laugh and feel the comforting warmth of waking up beside her. Every day he thought it and every day he stopped himself. He found some pocket of happiness to explore, some new world to liberate and he put it for another day but he knew that one day, one dark day, he wouldn't be able to put this feeling off any more. One day it would hit him that he was just existing from second to second and he'd go back. Go back and grab her and run until the fabric of time came crashing down around him. Until then he just came here and carved their names deep and deeper into that damn tree- wishing he could make it last forever.

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