Credits: Large inspiration from the Smallville fic 'Dead Flag Blues' by Interstellar on FFnet.

Minor inspiration from the Torchwood fic 'It Will Bleed You Dry' by paperclipbitch on LJ.

Slight themes from the Torchwood: Children Of Earth Trailer.

Title from a song by REM.

Disclaimer: Nothing in this fic is original. Take a look at the aforementioned stuff (especially 'Dead Flag Blues'), it's a lot better than this.


As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)

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They are coming.

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It's the end of the world.

Or at least, he thinks it is, which is almost the same thing. Because how could anything survive this? How could anyone walk away?

You did, says a voice in his head. I'm different, says another.

The streets of London were paved with gold. But now the gold has melted down, losing shape and forming a tide which sweeps away all those who dare to question.

All those bright and shining companions. The sky takes on the hue of their afterglow.

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They are coming.

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He falls to the ground, knees in the dust, and murmurs Not Again. I Will Not Let This Happen.

But the determination that drove nine hundred years of righteous anger does him no favours this time, and he is forced to admit that he is Wrong. The sky will fall, and the stars will go out, and the Earth will politely refuse the invitation to continue its merry dance around the Sun.

And he thinks of others as he drives himself upright and walks down the street; thinks of a future where nothing was like this. That is the curse of the Time Lords; not losing what you know could have been, but knowing that you lost what will be.

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They are coming.

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He lays the blame at his own door. He has always done that; play the martyr and the fool and people will forget that beneath the chatter lies a dimming spark. He stumbles every few steps, tripping over his own self-pity.

In the end, he is as selfish as everyone else. The little blue box containing salvation has room for more than one, and he knows he could save everyone on that street. Everyone in the whole city.

Time waits for no man, but if you can catch it then do what you will. Take them into your box, and your heart, and start again.

He walks past them, and forgets to say Come With Me. I Can Save You.

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They are coming.

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He is sorry. He is so sorry.

But there is no one left to forgive him.

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They are coming.

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And in the last rays of a sunset never over, he gives in. No one here could walk away, except him.

The dirty faces of the ones yet to line up for the blissful scythe of execution are illuminated by the golden fires of a man reborn.

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They are coming.

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This is the way the world ends. Big Bang. Lights out.

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They are here.

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The Doctor mirrors the softly closing blue doors with his eyes, and dreams of a place where everybody lives.