This is my first try at fan fiction, first time writing in a long time…period. And I'm also quite new to the Doctor Who universe. Unfortunately, I think my first two chapters will include a bit of flash backs but that's how it goes I guess. This is meant to take place immediately after Journey's End but before the Doctor regenerates into the Eleventh. Hope you all enjoy!
The world was falling down around them, and they were caught in a moment that was coming to an end all too quickly. He held her face in his hands, their noses pressed together, eyes closed. "I need you to be brave. His voice reverberated with a strength she had never heard before, a strength she needed right now.
Her voice cracked, "Brave...right."
They finally opened their eyes. If he looked into her's for one moment longer he might lose all will he had for the task at hand. Her eyes were filled with the same fire as filled his soul. They were the color of ice and wind, they were tranquil pools of water that reflected sunlight and the warmth of unbridled love. "You know why I have to do this, please tell me you understand."
"I know, my love, I know. There is no other way."
"I promise I'll find you. No matter where you are, no matter when you are. I'll
find you"
"I know you will," she replied softly as the tears she had been holding back spilled like water falls down her cheeks, "you always do."
The Doctor's eyes flew open frantically, beads of sweat dripping down his temples. He collapsed in on himself as he realized the nightmare had returned again. He thought when he destroyed his planet and ended the Time War his sleeping hours would be filled with the horrors and guilt of lives lost, not of the one he saved. This was why he spent so little of his time sleeping; and so much time running.
Silence echoed in the TARDIS. Rose was gone, happy now, no doubt. Martha, Jack, Sarah Jane, Donna, even the idiot Mickey, they were all gone. They had all been a band-aid for the pain he felt in his heart. The Doctor sat up fully now, making an effort to rub the sleep from his eyes. He stood up and began to make his way around the center of the TARDIS. Every movement he made bounced off the walls of the empty room. He quietly reflected as he ran his fingers over the controls.
He had spent so much time filling the emptiness inside, it was true he had experienced a measure of joy. But it paled in comparison to what he had hoped his life after Gallifrey would be like. Now, as he reached this crossroads loneliness clung to him like a leech. He was so lost, he didn't even know what his next move should be. So instead, he just drifted aimlessly in space while the shadows of his past lurked in the quiet, empty air of the TARDIS.
She was safe now. And soon they would be running through all of time and space together. As the time approached, the Doctor slowly cut ties to all of his emotions. Every last one had to be severed from his very being. And with one swift motion the end came.
The Doctor braced himself after the bang, both literal and figurative. It was as if he expected some immediate act of divine justice to come down and strike him dead for what he had just done. But it was worse. Instead, there was only silence, and only the pangs and stabs of the Doctor's own conscience remaining. He bent his head down as if to prepare himself for the tears and sobs that should be coming. But nothing came. His heart was hard now, his tears dried up. He had nothing left inside himself. There was only one thought in his mind now, only one thing keeping him sane. He must find her, he must free her.
The Doctor stood up and moved too quickly toward the controls of his TARDIS. A sharp pain ripped through him and brought him to his knees. He hadn't predicted the effect the Moment would have on its operator. Now, it made sense, a weapon that powerful would obviously have effects on the poor soul operating it. As the sharp pain tore through him again the Doctor cried out, a sound of pure anguish. "Well," he said under his breath "this is one time I can't say I'm sad to see myself go."
With that the Doctor's back arched, his head was thrown back and pure energy poured forth from his being. Every cell in his body entered a state of flux, he was changing, becoming the ninth version of himself, a version born out of blood and war. But still, even in such a state of upheaval and tumult the one thought continued in his head, persistently, relentlessly, "I'm coming for you. No matter where you are, no matter when you are. I'll find you."