Apology
Note: I make no claim to any rights or ownership for Doctor Who, its characters or related properties. The obvious title for this story has already been used five times over, "Apology" was the second choice... this was an experiment of sorts, and I dont really think it succeded the way that I wanted it to. I also hope no one has already done this... anyway enjoy.
Gordon Newman trudged down the streets towards home, it had not been a good day. Work had been more stressful than usual, his boss demanded three times the usual amount of work on processing the out accounts in half the time, and he knew he would be in for it when they found out he had not finished yet. If he didn't need the job to support his wife and children he would have gladly taken the opportunity to politely tell his boss exactly what he could do with the job and leave, never to return.
Maybe because of the stress at work he had been too distracted to notice the signal change. He had emerged disoriented, but otherwise Ok, his car had been totaled. Or it would be as soon as the insurance company representative saw it. The other driver had been Ok as well, their car was still in good enough condition to drive away. Gordon had foolishly turned down an offer for a ride home after they towing company had taken his car away. He had figured that his home wasn't that far away, he could walk, work out some of the frustrations of a day gone wrong. He had greatly overestimated his stamina for walking, with every step he took he swore he would never, ever attempt to walk that far again.
Gordon's attempts to distract himself were fleeting at best. Passing a Police Call Box he never remembered seeing before, studying the monotonous brick patterns in the fences and walls that he passed. Studying the cracks in the sidewalk he walked down… he found it all incredible boring, and kept sending his mind back to dwell on the trouble he would be facing when he got back to work in the morning.
None of the other people he passed on the sidewalk gave him a second glance, and he in turn paid little attention to them. He didn't know any of them, and none of them seemed interesting enough to spare more than the briefest of glances. All except one.
A tall man wearing jogging shoes… Gordon wished he was wearing a pair himself after all the walking he had done… and a suit was walking in the opposite direction. When he and Gordon were about to pass the man stopped and looked Gordon in the eyes. It was a sad look and he had compassionate eyes that spoke of having endured untold sadness.
"I'm sorry," the man said, "I'm so sorry." His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something else, to explain, or maybe beg forgiveness for some unknown or imagined slight, but the man closed his mouth and continued walking down his own path.
The thing that struck Gordon the most was that the stranger actually seemed to mean it. So many times when one said they were sorry it was a reflex ingrained in a person by angry parents, but this man actually seemed genuinely sorrowful and apologetic for whatever wrong he felt he had done.
Gordon was so deep in thought about the strange man he didn't even notice as the first police car sped past him with its lights and siren blazing.
The second and third police cars he noticed, as well as the fire truck. His pace quickened.
His wife, Sammie… their son Kenny…
They all turned down the same side street. He hoped against hope, but deep down he knew they were going to his house.
