Tick tock goes the clock
And what now shall we play?
"The end is such a tragic saying, so final and deadly. There is no meaning or emotion being it when someone says 'this is the end' and there is no purpose to it either, its only duty is to inform people that something new is happening and that something old has come to its ultimate finale. But even then, the end can be a lie. Just look at me, I am living proof that the end is a lie, a perfect but insurmountable lie. My life has ended over and over again, so many times and in so many places, sometimes alone and sometimes with friends, but it began again each time, continuing this strange and uncommon sense of freedom. The end isn't always true, the end isn't always final. Sometimes, you just have to know where to look."
The Doctor sat back against the main computer system of the TARDIS, ending the recording he had been making and closing his eyes as he tilted his head back against the console, sighing heavily as so many memories from so many lifetimes haunted his eyes and his hearts. There was always something to regret, always something he longed to forget. And yet those were the things which lingered until the very last moment, just before sleep yet not quite awake they would plague him like locusts on the morning horizon. Unshakable and unrelenting.
He was plagued, yes, completely and utterly. And somewhere along the line he had come to the conclusion that it was what he deserved. Yes he had saved so many species and stopped many a story from falling flat too soon, but there was still the ones he had failed, the ones he could no longer go back for... Set time lines were necessary but no less monstrous to the soul and conscience of a man so determined to get it right.
How many of his companions had he let down since the very beginning? One or two? Or more... Maybe even all of them. He had always tried to make himself feel better by suggesting that it wasn't always possible to get it right, that sometimes there simply wasn't a way to make the correct decision and to get the right outcome, the best outcome. But that was as much a lie as the end was. He made the choices he made because they suited one party, and sometimes that meant ignoring the people closest to him, ignoring their feelings and their beliefs, their humanity and humility. Sometimes he had to be the monster in the dark, hiding under the bed and haunting the dreams, sometimes he had to be the one people hated and turned their backs on and sometimes... Just sometimes he had to do what others couldn't. He has to let go.
Letting go was not something he was good at. But it was something that was sometimes necessary.
"Necessity?" he half spat, rolling his eyes, "When did necessity become a all commanding factor of my life? I move with the storm, travelling wherever the wind takes me, bringing a torrent of rain against those who do harm and leaving behind fresh hope for... What on Earth am I saying?" he asked himself.
He got to his feet, slamming the recording device down on the side before he pulled the leaver and jolted as he felt the TARDIS make her descent into the outer stratosphere of the planet he had been orbiting for the past few days. Earth. He was back here once again, it seemed the one constant in his life that he should always be drawn back to Earth, despite all the millions of planets he could visit. But there was something about humans that drew him in, made him return and made him take them on as his companions despite his misgivings about such a thing after the last string of failure... Rose...
Shaking his feet he drew the TARDIS into land, Rose was a distant but fond memory now, he was older, so much older and she was happily in love with his mortal clone. And he had more knowledge now, knowledge about his future and his life. His life... And his death. He knew of River Song, and that was where, now, he was drawn to. To his soon-to-be-maybe-in-a-few-more-years-wife, whom was one of the most calculating, intelligent and morally corrupt people he had ever met, yet she was the one person he felt more akin to than any other. For certain there were things about her that were incredibly wrong, she was the perfect psychopath for a start, but if she was... What was he? He had decimated his own planet because he had been unable to stand the conflict any further and he allowed himself to think of her as the psychopath.
Hmm, interesting theory there.
The Doctor jostled slightly as his time machine set down on the wonderfully solid ground of planet Earth; picking up his jacket and straightening his bow tie, he left his home, the only home he truly had, and found himself to be on the luscious green grass outside a large; grand building. It was a Victorian style building, large enough to have once been counted as a mansion were it not for the large iron lettering over the gates.
University of Time and Relative Dimension in Space
It never ceased to amaze him to see the humble name of his wonderful time travelling companion scrawled so diligently before an establishment of learning. It was truly heart warming.
He began the long stroll down the gravel driveway, casting his gaze around curiously, the gardens and the grounds were empty. Normally, on his previous few visits, they had been teeming with scientists and would-be time travellers; newly enrolled students or the oldest of professors. Yet they stood derelict and lonesome, almost eerie with the lack of life and bustle.
Curious, yet concerned, he hastened to the large oak entrance doors and pushed them both open, the weight of the ancient English wood bearing no heed to him in his search for life. When he entered the foyer, his worst fears were confirmed.
Darkness crept into the world despite the infinite light from outside; shadows filled the rooms from floor to ceiling without a rest and without a break, no beams of sunlight or fluorescent light broke through the immense barrier of night which had fallen. There was no laughter, no shouting, no living to be found within. It was barren and deserted, desolate and devoid.
In trepidation and discomposure, the Doctor made to move forwards, his footsteps clacking against the granite flooring the only sound to be heard throughout the once busy hallways. He ascended the stairs without trouble, without hindering, without being confronted by any such boogie men which might have taken refuge in the penumbra.
He came at last, to the final corridor on the top most floor, the door at the end of the hallway, and he pushed it open slowly, taking cautious steps inside, his gaze momentarily being drawn by the sight of a fez in a case in the corner of the room. But for once, or at least for now, he looked back at the desk in the centre of the room, a high back leather chair behind it with its back facing him. Moving closer and circling the desk he came to stop beside the chair, slowly resting his hand on the back and forcing it to turn towards him.
His expression was an unreadable mesh of confliction as he looked at the occupant of the chair. And the occupant of the chair looked back at him.
A/N: My first Doctor Who fanfiction, and one of the only m/f pairings I ship, please enjoy and if it so pleases you... Review :)