Warning: refers to death and suicide; and hence is angsty.
Summary: the Doctor sees her one last time.
Disclaimer: I don't even own a bottle of Bacardi Breezer.
A/N: This was written to ditch my angst after a migraine sleep. It didn't quite work.
The Right Card
'It really shouldn't be this easy to get your hands on these things.' She broke open the fresh pack of prescribed painkillers from their packet, and popped the foil seal each individual pill sat in. Swigging from her bottle, she took a handful and gulped down the alcoholic liquid. She'd never been a fan of Bacardi Breezers; now she knew they'd be the death of her.
The rain beat down relentlessly on her, as she sank down onto the sodden ground. She didn't care that her clothes were sopping wet, that her shoes were ruined, and that her hair hung down in rats tails. All she cared about was slowly sinking into the earth as her life ebbed away. That's all she wanted; relief from this pain that tortured her night and day.
'It really shouldn't be that easy to get your hands on those things.' He hated to see her this way; so despondent, so broken! As she began her downward journey into the mud he rushed forward knowing this was his only chance to save her before it was too late. He caught her before she hit the dirt, but her eyes were already glazing over and almost bereft of life.
'Don't leave me! Please don't leave me! Not like this!' He begged her silently, willing her to cling onto life. It had taken so much courage to come here like this, knowing she would be on the brink of death anyway and that his presence would have no detrimental affect now. 'Look at me one more time! I'm here for you, ready to help. Please, please hang on. You can fight this; the battle is worth winning!'
She gasped in his arms as recognition flared in her. 'This can't be true! That was a dream, a stupid, idiotic dream, where I saved the universe because you let me. This is me going to the light. Who stole the tunnel? And shouldn't Nan and Dad be greeting me instead?'
'That's for a different type of death; this one is preserved for only the best of the best. A bit like a "Get Out Of Jail Free" card. So don't worry, and just follow my lead.' With that thought he lifted her into his arms and took her home.