011. wind

And then that was it. He was there, and then he was gone; but no, he was still beside her, grasping her hand in his.

She swallowed thickly, the wind whipping her cheeks, blowing her hair back behind her; she tried to stop thinking and just feel—feel the bitter air against her skin and feel her still-hammering heart inside her chest and feel the way his fingers tangled with hers, so warm. She'd missed that more than anything from her proper universe… her Doctor.

And now, she reasoned, he was that now more than ever before. Now, he'd be only hers. He wouldn't be forced to live on decades and centuries and millennia more after she was gone. They'd grow old. They'd stay together.

They would be the same.

Her hold on his hand tightened; she'd only just found him again, after all. She wasn't sure that she'd be ready to let go any time soon.

She turned her head slightly, so that she could see his face. He was the same, but he wasn't. Which meant it would be so easy, but it wouldn't. Her mind raced with hundreds of contradictions she knew were to come. Yet somehow, it didn't matter—because there he was, standing beside her, with her. So maybe in some sort of way, it would almost be better. She could have him, yet he'd still live on, and she would do the same to him—the full-Time-Lord Doctor, anyway.

He turned to her and offered her a gentle smile, which she returned without hesitation.

It would be all right, they were silently assuring each other. They would find ways to make this be all that it possibly could, and all that they could want. Things weren't going to be the same, but that was a bit fantastic.