"Our love was of the autumn; heady, golden and pure, but limited, always doomed to expire." – David Jones.

That day, the Doctor hadn't stumbled into her diner by accident. He had traced his steps from the previous times back to there, unable to know why, just knowing he had to come back. He still had his shades on, judging sometimes it was better to remain in the dark, even if he had gotten his sight back.

But he wouldn't mind telling the nice lady in the little restaurant of it, but not before he ingested every little trait of her; how her hair slightly stroked her shoulders, how her cheeks didn't blush when he complimented her, how her lips turned into a bright smile when she first saw him. How her eyes could swallow entire galaxies by just glaring at them.

No. For now, he would settle with his blindness just so he could see her true self.

He was slowing sipping a cup of tea – one that she insisted to offer him – as he stared into a point right past her. Not to his surprise, she was glancing right back into him, from the other side of the counter, and he didn't feel uncomfortable by her glared. Instead, he usually felt cared for.

He was the one to break the silence, after a long wordless period, "We're all walking towards our death."

She frowned her brows, unsure of what he meant with that. "Yes…?"

"I'm not kidding," his voice was harsh, "Every breath you take, every beat of your heart, that's one less you've got until the end."

She hummed, sitting across from him. "What if you don't have a heartbeat? What if don't have any breathes left, and yet you're still alive?"

His left eyebrow bowed in an arch, "I'd say that's impossible."

"Really?!" she almost spat at him, "You're telling me that in the midst of all those impossible stories you've told me, you can't even cogitate the idea of someone being dead and alive at the same time?"

"Fair enough. It's not impossible, just very unlikely," he grunted, resting the cup back in the table, "I could only assume, however, that it's not an easy life. If your heart isn't beating, then you don't have blood running through your veins, which means you can't get hurt, for it wouldn't ever heal. How can you stay alive without getting injured?"

She shot her shoulders up and down, seeming to understand more of the matter than he did. "You just gotta be careful. Besides, it's not the physical wounds that count, but the emotional ones. Not having those means that you're actually proper dead."

His tongue traveled the corner of his lips. "You say it like you've been through a lot."

She cracked a smile, "Haven't you?"

The Doctor made a face, "Guess so."

She was the one to prevent themselves from falling back into the quietude, "But you didn't come here just to discuss our journey to our deaths or how many times we've gotten ourselves broken and glued back together, did you. You wouldn't come back without a story."

It was annoying how well she could read him. "Why would you even say that?"

"Come on, now," she teased, "I know you."

He ironically whiffed, "You don't even know my name."

That didn't stop her, "Does anybody? Anybody?"

Damn it, he thought to himself, agreeing she was right. She appeared to know him from his pasts lives – or was it his future ones? – he just wished she could know her, for she knew him so well. Almost better than he knew himself.

Sighing noticeably, he started, "I was kidnaped by the UN today."

The barista couldn't hold back a chuckle, "Why would the UN kidnap you today? Ever?"

He scratched his chin, "Because I'm not very keen on following their commands. Besides, during times of crises, they have no alternative other than kidnaping the president of the world."

She didn't seem astonished, "I can only conclude that's you."

"Unfortunately, " he grumped, "Who else are they going to call when a 5000 years old pyramid appears out of the blue?"

Her face's traits suddenly got a life of their own. "Oh my stars."

She didn't need to say anything more. Had he heard those same words before? After so many years of time traveling, memories started to mix with one another into his mind. "Of course, it couldn't be a human pyramid. It'd got to be alien technology. But I had to see it for myself," he laughed at his choice of words.

She didn't find it funny, however, and his face straightened up.

"I was met by one of the Monks, you know, those demon creatures I told you about the last time I stopped by. Nice fellah, quite ugly, not very keen on talking, at least not before the end of the Earth," he hissed, sarcastically.

"The Earth is still intact, I can guess you didn't have your chat, then."

"I'm getting there," he raised his index finger up in the air, "They set a Doomsday Clock to every single inhabitant of this world, you know, the closer to midnight, the closer to a global disaster. It said 11:57pm. The disaster was looking right at our faces. But how do you stop disaster from happening when you have no way of using your words against them, now before the end?"

Her lips were half opened, "How?"

"You don't. You'd just sit around and wait for the end. I couldn't do that, not as the president of the World, not when an entire species relied on me. Not when everybody was screaming war at me."

She looked down, too sad for any of their liking. "That's not you. You don't ever jump to the easy way out. That goes against everything you've ever stood up for."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," he spoke in clichés, getting a roll of eyes from her, "But you know what's the main problem of fighting Monks, demons, or whatever it is that they're called? They see it coming. They saw our attack coming, as the clock turned 11:58, and in a warning, they highjacked our planes, showing us no exterior force would defeat them. And then they said, they were ready to talk."

"Talking is good," she stated the obvious, "Words win wars, don't they."

His head nodded so slightly it was barely noticeable. "They took us to this special room inside the pyramid, full of wires, wires that showed every potential the Earth had of destroying itself. The Monks could stop those tragedies from happening, but the only way of doing so was by being in charge of the planet. They could protect us from ourselves, all we had to do was ask."

"Why did you have to ask?" she was lost.

"Simple: fear is temporary, love is slavery."

"I disagree," she was quick to interfere, leaning closer to him. "Fear accompanies us all through our lives, it's not up to us. It's there from the day we are born until the day we die, and there's nothing we can do to get rid of it. Love, on the other hand, love fades away. It disappears, gets lots in the deep paths of our memories. It's pure Machiavelli, actually. Better to be feared than loved."

"I disagree with your disagree," he stated, leaning on his elbows down the counter as well. "I've lived too many lives, and not all of them were good. But I was never alone, not for one single day. I was always surrounded by both fear and love. But the thing is, you get used to fear, because fear is a good thing, our survival relies on our fear. But when you love someone, when you develop a duty of care for them, you become willingly to break your own rules just to guarantee their survival," he took a small pause, "You put yourself through hell, you enslave yourself to 4.5 billion years of undying torture just so you can save them."

She swallowed hard, strangely looking guilty with his words, and… was that a tear that had just rolled out her eyes? He didn't enjoy seeing her sad, no matter how much of an unfamiliarly familiar she was to him. "Guess you're right."

He agreed, letting out a long breath, deciding to move on as what he said had clearly triggered her. "We rushed out of the pyramid, everybody still panicked at the possibility of self destruction. The leaders made an oath of peace, to impede themselves from killing everybody in World War Three, but it made no difference. The clock was stuck on 11:59. Somewhere else in the planet, people were signing its destruction – was it on purpose or not."

"Who?" she blurted out, too focused to get rid of the wet tray down her cheek.

"That's not the question," he bounced his head, "First, we had to learn how."

"Okay, then how?"

"Bacteria," he had half a grin on his lips, "Now we could ask ourselves who and where the bacteria first originated. It might be a difficult task, yes, but not when you have a genius man from space who puts all the intelligence top-secret information of the Earth on google."

She almost gasped at his remark, "How is that genius! There are people, civilians always lurking."

"We had to be quick, then!", he shouted back, "Nevertheless, you know how dumb and stupid humans can be. They wanted to stop fighting, to give away their world. Why, why can't humans ever listen to a genius man from space at their disposal?" she laughed, "They were off to made the deal, that's I decided to do to the Monks the same thing I had done in me: blind them."

She waited, expecting him to explain.

"I'd end all the broadcast from every single lab from the world, knowing they were watching. But the Monks are powerful creatures, they could easily turn the camera from the one lab they had their eyes on back on, and that's what they did. And that's when we found out where our potential disaster was coming from. I landed my TARDIS there."

She grinned, "I bet the scientists were stoned by the sudden appearance of a telephone blue box."

The Doctor frowned his brows. He didn't recall telling her the shape of this time machine, had he? "They always are. Scientist have a hard time believing things they can't explain, did they only know materializing is pure silence," he shrugged, "The clock was ticking on our ears. We had about twenty minutes before the next cycle of bacteria was released into the air, bacteria that turned into goop everything organic. Destruction of the fittest."

"Twenty minutes isn't much time," she affirmed the obvious.

He nodded, "Me and the nice scientist had to blow up the lab, because what is the other way of destroying bacteria? I had two minutes to get out of there, or I'd blow up, too. And that's when it happened. That's when I died."

"You're not dead," she joked with a chuckle, but he could still hear the small hint of despair in her voice.

"The problem with old school technology," he carried on, "Is that my sonic screwdriver can't hack it. How could I disable a combination lock without my eyes? I was doomed. I was ready to accept my death."

"How did you make it out, then?" her voice was distant, like she was scared to know the truth.

"I didn't," his voice was harsh, raspy, stuck in the back of his throat, "Bill, my companion, couldn't let the planet live on without me. So she traded her planet, your planet, for my sight. She gave consent."

"Wait," she held her hand up in the air, expression as perplexed as ever, "You've got your eyes back?!"

"Yes," his face was blank, indifferent.

"Oh my god!" she screamed out loud, too exciting for his liking. She seemed to have forgotten completely about how her planet was doomed, "This is everything! You can see again, why didn't you tell me?!"

For a moment, the Doctor felt guilty for not sharing his secret with her, like he shared everything else. "Because I wanted to see you. Not just the barista who grids me hi when I walk in, but the real you."

He expected to see her blush, but she didn't. Instead, she offered him the sweetest smile she had, "I'm happy for you. I'd hug if I could."

"Why can't you?" he pondered, almost disliking the idea of not getting a hug from her.

"Thought it would be awkward," she spoke in a strong accident, "Besides, I don't really think you're the hugging type."

Sighing, he took his shades out of his face, "I really am not."

She licked the corner of her lips, "Well, what happens now? Now that you've got your eyes back and you can see the world conquered by the Monks?"

The Doctor seemed to think briefly, "Guess I'll lay low for a while. Go unnoticed, until I've found the right time to come back and defeat them."

The girl seemed to become sad, "So you're not coming back."

He stared right into her big brown eyes, "Do you want me to?"

"Does it matter?" she made a face.

"It matters to me," his face was just as sad as hers.

"I…" she tried to find words, but seemed to be out of them.

The truth they were both keen on denying.

"Yeah," he grunted, looking away to the world that was waiting for him outside.

"I'll miss you," she whispered, in a hush he wasn't supposed to hear.

Had he heard her, he made sure to pretend he hadn't. "Well then."

To his surprise, she stood up, walking around the counter so she could stand next to him. He didn't get up, just so they would be at the same height. Clumsily, she threw her arms around him, holding him tight by his neck, resting her chin against his shoulder. "You take care of yourself."

The Doctor nodded, unsure of how to proceed next. He felt loved in his arms, but didn't know how to repay such love. She looked so tiny against him, he had no other choice but to gently rest his hands against her back. "I will. I promise."

She sniffed, pulling away. She didn't care to wipe away the salty tears that had just descended her cheeks, perhaps she hadn't even noticed them. "Off you pop, then. Go be a hero or whatever. Save the planet."

He agreed with his head, not fully comprehending why his eyes suddenly felt wet. "I guess I'll see you around, then?"

She smiled for him one last time, "Yeah. I hope you will."

A/N: well, I might have gotten overly excited with all the references in this chapter, and I sincerely apologize. I don't think I'm going to be able to post a new chapter next sunday, but I'll do my best to carry this on throughout the week. As always, feedback is much appreciated :)