A/N: Just a little idea I got, which I quite liked and decided to write. It kind of took off in its own direction, but I'm not too unhappy with the results. It was supposed to be more of a drabble, but ended up turning into a ramble. Hehe. I apologise for the fact that it's not a stupidly happy one, but in order to keep churning out the Denial, I need to let go of the angst every now and again, too.

And just to let you know: this is NOT a post-Doomsday angst fic. You can read it with Doomsday in mind, if you really want. But, similarly, you can read it with no knowledge of Doomsday, whatsoever….

Disclaimer: Not mine and never will be. (God, it hurts to write that).

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If he had to choose one word - just one - that he hated above all others, it would have to be 'goodbye'. 'Dalek' proved a strong contender, but 'goodbye' always won out in the end.

It described all his worst fears of the unknown. There were no horrifying creatures to link to it. Nothing that would give the word a face and him something to aim at. Instead there was just the cold chain of fate and the inevitable. You didn't know when or who or how. You just knew that it was coming.

And the Doctor hated it. Because each time the word was used - used in its proper sense - another chapter ended. And when you lived forever, it always hurt to have another door closed off. Even though he loved each chapter dearly, he still felt the regret that one feels after finishing a well loved book. And realising that the story you've been enjoying has finished. Only while he could reread these stories, he could never relive them.

The French had the right idea. 'Au revoir'. Considerably better, he thought. None of this finite, never-again nonsense. But a much happier, much more light-hearted promise to see you again. See you later. He could handle that. And then that was followed by the German and their 'auf wiedersehen' or the Italian 'arrivederci'. That was how things should be done.

He didn't have too much of a problem with the Spanish and Portuguese, who simply told you to go with God. Their 'adeus' or 'adios' (or even the French 'adieu') wasn't a promise to see you again, but it wasn't a matter of never-ever, either. It was simply a plea that you would keep yourself safe. The Doctor quite liked that, actually.

And then, he supposed, tying in with all that, were the Dutch 'vaarwel' and the Danish 'farvel'. Both sounding a lot like the now almost archaic English 'farewell'. A phrase, the Doctor often reflected, that should be used more often. Because here was something which told you to travel well, sail well and be safe.

They were all positive phrases. Happier little words the Doctor would prefer to use. But instead, it always came back to 'goodbye'.

You could break it up, yes. The 'good' was familiar, safe, positive. A misleading word to include. The 'bye' - in itself meaningless, unless linked to the larger word. But put the two together and you get something as damning and sombre as the judge's gavel; a key turning in a lock; a door slamming; a light going out; the last note in a song. A lone tear of loss. An endless list of possibilities, all leading to grief.

The Doctor hated it. And he hated the way that humans, little humans - and, he supposed, he himself, too - used it so casually. Too casually. Everyday, without a thought or care they'd use it. To part with their friends, their family and loved ones. Little suspecting the real implication of the word. Until that one time would come when they'd have to really use it, or think it, and it would tear their soul in two.

Just a word, yes. But it scared the hell out of him.

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I would love, love, love a review. Also, if I've messed up any of the languages (I'm not multilingual) please let me know..