AN: I am so sorry that this is so late in coming, I was really struggling with writer's block. Any future chapters, I am sorry to say, will probably be of similar length to this one (so really short) and hopefully wont take quite so long to write. Thank you for bearing with me and reviews are always encouraging and appreciated.
The Second Time I Saw Him
It was years later when I next saw The Doctor, he was watching me from a street corner across from my work. I wasn't the same girl I was when my mother died, but I still had that sense of adventure and wonder that she was able to leave me with. I knew that I had to tell him as soon as I'd seen him, I had to tell him that I knew who he was, that my mother had remembered and was truly happy again before she died. I couldn't stand the sadness in his eyes as he watched me, the regret. I didn't know why he was here now, after all this time, or even why he was watching me, but I did know one thing, this time I would talk to him. I had no excuse.
He didn't look any different then he did at the funeral, at least not physically, he was just sadder. His eyes had a haunted look to them: like he had finally seen too much, had finally seen too many good-byes.
I don't think he realized I was aware of him being there, let alone who he was, but it didn't seem to matter to him either way. I did know what I do, I had to help bring the happiness back into his eyes; they were just so dull. So I took my break before he could leave once again, and started making my way out to him, nonchalantly of course, acting as if I was heading to the café behind him. It didn't matter, though, I was stopped at a street light, only a couple of blocks away from him, and by the time the traffic cleared and the light had turned once again, he was gone. I could only hope that he would come back while I continued on to the café disappointed.
