A/N: hello it's dinosoprano! This is just a one-shot that popped into my head and I thought I would share it. I do not own Doctor Who sadly. Enjoy!
His hearts beat a frantic rhythm in his chest. A frantic rhythm that threatened to tear his chest into pieces as his hearts vied for escape. Everything had fallen silent around him. He couldn't hear the usual click, whirs, whistles and general chaos the TARDIS typically produced. No, he was alone with his suicidal hearts. Thump thump thump thump. Thump thump thump thump. Over and over again, pounding in his ears as he stared at it. His fingers tingled as they grew numb from being clenched in unrelenting fists but he dared not loosen them lest they be the reason he still stood. He didn't know if he could get up again if he fell. His eyes stung for he refused to blink just in case the object vanished and with it his last hopes of happiness.
It was too soon, far too soon for this. There should have been ages for him to come up with an acceptable solution, ages for him to pretend everything was still okay. He had no plans, no ideas, and no way to prevent what had already happened. Why was it that he could change his fixed points but if it was someone he cared about, he sat helpless on the sidelines? Was he not allowed just a little piece of happiness? She was as close as he had gotten and he had known from the start that he would end up hurt. He should have known better than to let her wiggle her way into his very tough defenses. He shouldn't have listened to Amy all those years ago. He could have left her and taken Amy to another planet. He could have done a lot of other things, made different choices, but would he have been happy? Part of him didn't believe so. Most of him didn't believe so.
It just wasn't fair! There was so much they had yet to do! He had seen so little of her since he lost Amy and Rory. He felt so incredibly guilty about losing her parents. She was so much like her parents it hurt to see her and he might have been avoiding her more for the latter reason than any guilt he'd built up over the matter. Why now? He didn't even know if she had stolen Jack's gun yet and he had no way of finding out. He didn't know where she could have found it. Then there was the matter of his name. It was so dangerous, so very dangerous to tell anyone his name. He needed to have an incredibly valid reason for telling her and he didn't think his past self's arrogance and fear counted. Not when his name was so very dangerous to utter. Besides, it's not like he could tell her that. Spoilers.
As though someone had slapped his face to knock water out of his ears the sounds came flooding back to him. The TARDIS was chattering away with her clicks, whistles, whirs, clanks and various other noises like some overly talkative school girl. The Doctor blinked several times to bring moisture back to his stinging eyes. Slowly, he took a step forward. CLAP. Then another. CLAP. He hesitantly reached out for his new sonic screwdriver. He tentatively curled his fingers around it and pulled it out of the consol. He nearly dropped it, his mind telling him it had burned his fingers when indeed nothing had happened at all other than the incessant beeping the TARDIS had been making since she'd finished the hateful thing.
Oh how he hated it. He hated all the fancy updates. He despised its new old look, loathed its red setting and detested its dampers. He wanted to hurl the horrid thing into a black hole just as he had done to the TARDIS handbook. If only his past self didn't depend on the damn thing. If only she had told him not to change anything. If only he had ignored the message on the psychic paper. If only he didn't insist on saving everyone he met. Why couldn't he just mind his own business? He had managed quite well on Gallifrey so why was it so difficult now? He had net too many humans; let too many of them influence him. He was getting far too easy to push around in his old age. And clearly retirement was out of the question.
His fist clenched around the screwdriver. He squeezed his eyes shut trying to prevent tears. He wanted to cry, scream and let out his frustration on some poor unsuspecting inanimate object. He wanted this to be some terrible nightmare he was having trouble waking from. He wanted so much and yet so little. He'd made a bargain with the universe before maybe he could do it again. He wanted to be happy. That was all he ever wanted. He wanted a companion who would never leave. As much as he loved his TARDIS, he needed someone to talk to or he'd go mad. He wanted to keep the last of his Ponds. He wanted to keep his precious River Song safe. Most of all, he wanted to run.
A/N: As always I appreciate reviews especially constructive ones!