Rain drizzled from under the gloomy grey clouds unto the equally grey city of London, brightened only by pinpricks of blurred light from feeble streetlamps, illuminating the scope of the city like a blanket of low hanging stars. Taxis trundled along, petrol fumes scenting the air with its metallic stench, and the occasional large red bus painted a brief flash of colour before being engulfed by the dark of the late evening.

Westminster Bridge was empty of pedestrians – save for one, stood leaning over and peering down to the river Thames below, currently being peppered with raindrops. It was a man, thoroughly drenched to the skin, his dark hair plastered to his face and his old, scuffed shoes squelching. He sighed deeply, looking up to the skies, wishing for a time that he was no longer a part of…

The man glanced behind him, checking the road for any passing cars. When no headlamps glittered his way, he found himself climbing up onto the stone banister of the bridge, and sitting himself down, legs dangling over the edge. There was a great freedom in this movement; he no longer felt as chained up, sat here overlooking the river: he no longer felt as alone as he had come to be.

The urge to jump bubbled up inside him. It looked so refreshing, so cool in the waters below; one quick jump and he could be down there, not up here…

Reality, of course, returned to his mind. It was a stupid idea to jump. He'd die. Obviously. But as the rain pelted harder, and he took another glance up to the churning clouds above, he wondered whether such a concept was as bad as it seemed…

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you."

The man jolted, his heart pounding; he had very nearly slipped. After a brief glance down to the waters he'd been a second from having plunged into, he craned his neck over towards the stranger who'd appeared, apparently out of nowhere.

"What?"

"I wouldn't sit up there," the stranger clarified. This was also a man: clad in a dark tweed jacket and black trousers, and sporting a large mess of hair already wilting under the harsh winds and rain, he stepped closer.

"You almost knocked me over yourself," the man glared, annoyed by this unwanted company.

"Sorry."

"Yeah, well," the man retorted. "Just leave me alone, will you?"

"Why would I do that?"

The man held back a groan. "Because I'm not used to… other people. I just want to have some time to myself."

The stranger drew in a deep breath. "You know, I don't want to risk it." He strode over, and lent his arms over the stone banister beside where he was sat. "What's your name?"

The man gritted his teeth, but finally muttered, "Merlin."

"Nice to meet you Merlin. I'm the Doctor."

Merlin's shoulders sagged. "I don't need a Doctor."

"No, you misunderstand me," the Doctor said, with a small shake of his head. "I am the Doctor. Although," he continued, glancing over towards Merlin, "I think you might need someone."

"And who's that," Merlin muttered irritably.

"Someone to talk to."

The sound of rain dancing around them grew in volume as the pair delved into silence.

"I can't," Merlin breathed finally. "It's… complicated."

"I'm alright with complicated," the Doctor grinned. "Try me."

"You really won't believe me," Merlin protested.

"Okay then," the Doctor said with a shrug. Merlin assumed that to be the end of that conversation; to his dismay, however, the strange man started, "If I said that I am alien, who can travel in time and space, and can change my face rather than die by means of a biological… thing, and has a time machine in the form of a 1960s English Police Box… would that make your story less complicated?"

Merlin snorted. "You expect me to believe that?"

"Well, you want me to believe your story," the Doctor pointed out.

"No, I don't. You just want me to tell it to you."

"Look," the Doctor sighed, patting a hand upon Merlin's arm. "No – really: look." Merlin turned to face the Doctor. "I look up at you… and I see a wise, old man. I see the experience of, hundreds, of painstaking years bearing a terrible weight on your shoulders. I see a time in your eyes from long ago, back when you were young, really young, and I can sense the urge to want to be able to take yourself back there. I can see a face younger than the mind it bears within, and I can see the sorrow and loss you have suffered." The Doctor broke off, shaking his head sadly. "Sorry," he muttered.

Merlin stared at the Doctor, completely dumbstruck – not only because those words had hit home, but also because he was certain that the Doctor knew that was exactly what Merlin could see as he'd looked down at him.

The Doctor looked back up again, this time a grin stretching his expression. "Anyway, that wasn't my reason of visiting."

"It… wasn't?" Merlin faltered. "Wait… you were looking for me?"

"Not exactly looking, per se; I just, sort of, arrived." The Doctor pushed away from the edge of the bridge, and Merlin – overwhelmed with a curiosity that hadn't sparked within him in years – jumped to the ground from the banister and followed after him. "You see," the Doctor continued, "I've got something in mind for you that you might be interested in."

"What would that be?"

"Another chance of living as you once did," the Doctor announced.

Merlin fell back considerably, a gnawing sadness taking reign of his thoughts.

The Doctor turned back in surprise. "What is it?"

"That's not possible," Merlin muttered.

"No, wait until you see-"

"Listen!" Merlin's heart ached to have to relive those memories he had long ago buried deep in the darkest realms of his mind. A desperate longing stung at his eyes, but he ignored it, and swallowed down his grief. "Back then… all those years ago… I lost the closest friend I have ever had. The most important person, in the whole world, to me. I lost everyone," he mumbled, his voice practically lost in the open air the moment the words left his lips. "I can't go back, because I'll still be… alone."

The Doctor smiled sadly. "Hey, you didn't think that was my plan, did you?"

Merlin frowned. "What, do you mean?"

"Well: with the power of time on my side, I was thinking of… well, changing things around a little. Of course, it's pretty risky… but it's worth a shot, eh?"

"So…" Merlin's expression brightened hopefully. "You can take me there… and everyone else will be there too? Gwen? Gaius? Arth-" he broke off suddenly, his head bowing.

"I'll make sure everyone is there," the Doctor assured. "I promise." He stepped back over to Merlin, and placed his hands to Merlin's shoulders in encouragement. "I once had someone too, like Arthur," the Doctor nodded understandably. Merlin's heart ground to a halt at the name, and his eyes stung again. "The difference being, I can help you save him and bring him back."

Tears intermingled with the rain down Merlin's face, and he laughed for what felt like the first time in hundreds of years. He was going to see Arthur again. Alive.

"Are you ready to go?"

Merlin nodded. As he followed after the Doctor, a thought came to mind. "Hey, wait a second," he said. "About your friend, too – is there anything I can do to help, in return?"

The Doctor faltered; he wrung his hands. "I'm afraid not. It's…" he give a wobbly smile. "Complicated."

"You can't travel back to them, then," Merlin suggested.

"If only it were that easy," the Doctor muttered. He shook his head, and brought a grin back to his face. "Thank you for the offer, Merlin, all the same."

"It only seemed fair," Merlin pointed out. They continued to walk. "Is there, anything, I can do, as a repayment?"

"There is, actually," the Doctor said. "Make every day you have from now on, the best day of your life. Alright?" He grinned over at Merlin, who returned the gesture.

They made their way over towards a large box, hidden in shadow. "So that's the police box you mentioned," Merlin realised, as they neared it. He raised his brow. "It's not… the biggest, space ship that I had in mind."

"Ah," the Doctor proclaimed triumphantly. "Well, we'll see about that." He moved to the door, and unlocked it with a key (a rather primitive method for a time and space machine, Merlin thought – but, then again, where they were about to travel to, 'primitive' wasn't exactly the right word). With a push of the door, the Doctor pocketed the key, as a chink of light from within the box widened, falling at Merlin's feet. Blinking, he peered inside.

"What do you think now," the Doctor asked, folding his arms.

Merlin smirked over at him. "Magic," he said.