A/N: Argh, angst alert (and alliteration). But not, I hasten to add, post-Doomsday angst. You could see it as either Doctor, but I think it really ought to be Nine. Simply because it's just so darn dark…
Dunno why I keep getting these rather random, angst ideas. I mean, I don't mind. But I'd prefer it if they didn't arrive at 3am, thanks. Good for my fanfic, I guess, but bad for my sleep…
Disclaimer: The BBC owns it. Duh.
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She Comes To Him (238 words, if you're interested)
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It is when the nightmares come to her that she comes to him.
She will pad into his room, vulnerable and sleepy. The taste of midnight fears still sour on her lips.
And he will hold her in his arms, kiss her forehead, stroke her hair and he will hold the fears at bay.
When the nightmares visit him, still she will come.
On the rare occasions when he sleeps, and Nightmare takes the opportunity to rear its ugly head, he will wake and find her with him.
And she will smile, hold his hand and be the bright light that chases his darkness away.
He is no stranger to nightmares. He is the stuff of nightmares. He lives them, breathes them - creates them. He is a murderer, a monster, a devil. Anger, rage and darkness personified.
And yet she comes to him.
She is new to these nightmares. She had nightmares when she was little, yes. But never like this. Where the monsters are real, where the monsters can kill and do kill - and she's seen it all happen. She is an innocent, a child, an angel. Goodness, bravery and love personified.
And yet she comes to him.
It is a miracle, he tells himself, though he believes in no God. It is a miracle. She is the miracle that has seized and saved his life.
And he thanks God that she comes to him.
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So…. Review? Go on, it doesn't take long…
And I promise my next fic will be a happy one. ;D