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He was happy. For the first time in 900 years, the screaming of time flowing all around him inside of his head was bearable. Barely noticable if he was honest. His body had stopped aching from years of wear and tear, injuries even his regenerations couldn’t fully heal. Mental scars he would forever carry around with him, things he had seen, things he had caused that no one should have ever been exposed to. For the first time since the Time War, he was happy. His life could be good, at least for a bit. For a short while he could spend his time with someone just as crazy as him. Someone just as eager to run, to see the universe and everything it has to offer, just as eager to follow his outlandish plans as him. Someone he truly loved with all his hearts. He knew it wasn’t going to last forever, fuck, it wasn’t even going to last for his lifetime, but it would last for hers and once she was dead he would just go back to running the way he had run for centuries now.
He didn’t think it would happen this soon. He thought he had already lost her when he sent her to that other dimension, but she came back. She always did. She always managed to find a way to come back to him. Oh how he could have cried in that moment, how he wanted to grab her, hug her and never let go again, never leave her side again.
It didn’t last. Of course it didn't. What did he think would happen? They’d save the world and keep traveling like nothing had happened? Like her mother wasn’t stuck in a different dimension, never to see her daughter again?
They had always come back for visits. It was something that kept all of them going. Something to look forward to and he thought she would be fine with just giving that up forever? Even if she hadn’t been pulled into the portal, she would have been miserable here as well.
He had wanted to follow her. He had wanted to let go and leave everything behind just to be with her, even if it meant the earth being destroyed, the last of the Timelords being stuck in a different dimension, never to save anyone again. At that moment, he was selfish. So selfish.
He didn’t let go.
He couldn’t even tell her how he felt.
As they stood there, on that beach, all he wished for, all he prayed for was to tell her. If he couldn’t be with her he needed to at least tell her.
Not even that was granted to him.
“Rose Tyler”, he had started, ‘I love you’ supposed to follow it. Only the power ran out, her image vanished, the link lost forever.
Martha was a new light in his life. Another chance at not being alone. Deep down he knew it wouldn’t last, but he had to try it. God he wanted it to last. It felt so good. Not as good as with her, but with Martha he wasn’t alone anymore. He was aware that she loved him, how could he not be, but he just tried to ignore it. She wasn’t just brilliant, but she was loyal. No matter what he asked of her, Martha would do it. She would wait patiently until it was her turn to act and then she’d save him. Even if it included things like what happened with John Smith. John didn’t have a single memory he had, but he had all of John's memories. It hurt, leaving John behind. He had tried to give John at least that last bit of comfort, give John a life he had always wanted but would have never had. It didn’t make the memories hurt any less. He felt sorry for how he had treated Martha, yet she didn’t seem to mind. She never seemed to mind.
Until the end. Until everything he did came crashing down on them. Until Martha had to watch her family be tortured for a year without being able to do anything. Until all she was supposed to do was tell his story and wait. He hated himself so much every single day. He didn’t care about what the Master did to him, in all honesty he had been through worse, but what poor Martha and her family had to go through was too much for him to bear. It was his fault. His and only his fault. Yes, he reversed everything, turned it into the year that never happened, yet he couldn’t help but still feel horrible. They remembered, everyone closely involved remembered and that was enough for him to not be able to let go of the guilt, the hatred burning inside of him only being fueled more and more.
He had meant it, settling down, helping his childhood friend. Now he was back to running. Running with Martha, praying she could forgive him.
Only she couldn't. He understood why. He really didn’t know why he thought Martha would forgive him. God, he couldn’t even forgive himself.
He was selfish again at that moment. Going off about all the great things they could do, all the wonderful places they could go, all the wonderful places he wouldn’t have to visit alone, fully disregarding everything Martha had just been through. He was selfish, his only wish being not to be alone anymore, even if it meant hurting his companions and he knew it was wrong, he had known it was wrong all along.
Yet, her walking out of the TARDIS, leaving him alone in that horrible, disgusting silence he hated so goddamn much, it broke his already weak hearts. He always says he would be alright, but everyone he told that to knew he was lying. Sometimes he wondered if he knew it was a lie or if in his delusional thinking he had actually started to believe it as true.
He didn’t know what hurt worse, her running back in, a small sense of hope sparking up inside of him, a small moment of belief being shattered into a million pieces, or Martha telling him how much he had actually hurt her this entire time. He knew he deserved it, knew she needed this as a form of closure, yet it still hurt. It hurt so incredibly much.
Then, Donna showed up again. Sleeky, salty, sarcastic Donna. He loved her as a friend so much. She made him laugh in a way very few people have managed to before. She made him forget for a moment, made him feel actually alright. Adventures with her were more than just fun, they were enticing, keeping him on his toes constantly. She was there to comfort him, to keep him on a right path, she showed him that sometimes he could defy the laws, the walls he trapped himself behind in his own mind. Donna showed him he had control over his own actions. She kept him sane.
That was a thing about this version of him. He suspected it had something to do with his busted up regeneration. He seemed to constantly be on the verge of madness, close to breaking down, to seriously hurting somebody or even killing them. It was why he tried his hardest especially now to be a good person, to help people, even if they did horrible things to him.
So why was no one accepting his help? He was reaching out to them, trying to give them a chance and they’d rather choose death? He couldn’t understand it.
Was it his fault? Of course it was. It had always been. All he did was bring death and pain to the people he tried to care about.
All he did was ruin the lives of those he promised to protect.
He had promised to protect Donna. He had promised Wilf to do everything in his power to keep her safe. Oh how he had believed in him, how Wilf had supported him. It was the first time his companions' family actually trusted him.
It ruined him to tell Wilf that he failed. Donna was dying and it was his fault. He was the reason she had even been there, he was the reason she had gone through all the things she had to go through. Now, she gave her mind for everyone's safety. She was brilliant, maybe even more brilliant than himself, but it was consuming her, the Timelord's mind, the screaming in her head, the constant yelling of time all around them, something no human was ever supposed to experience and it was all his fault. He would save her, even if it meant erasing her mind. It wasn’t fair, not to her, forgetting all the beautiful places she had seen, the wonderful people she had met, the astounding things she had done, and it wasn’t fair to him, once again being alone. He almost couldn’t bare the look on Wilfs face, the look of understanding, of compassion and empathy, a look of ‘I am here for you. I know you’re not alright and that is okay’. He had wanted to cry so bad, had wanted to break down in Wilfs arms and just let it all out for once instead of forcing these intense emotions down, finding shelter in the silence of the TARDIS, off to some far away galaxy, running from everything as he has been doing since he was eight years old.
They were children goddammit. Children being exposed to something he didn’t even think he could deal with today. No wonder he ran, he was terrified, he didn’t understand it and all this noise in his head all of a sudden, all these horrible pictures, the deaths of all these people stuck in his mind. He had hoped, in his childish stupidity, running would be of some use, would ease the pain he was feeling. It didn’t. Nothing ever did.
Nothing but her.
God, no wonder the Master went insane. He wondered why he didn’t.
Maybe he did and just hadn’t snapped yet. He felt very close to it in that case.
He had loved all of them in their own way.
Rose was everything he could ever have wished for.
Martha picked him off the ground.
Donna kept him laughing.
Jack made him remember he was loved.
Wilf was the piece of driftwood he could cling to as his world came crashing down once again.
All the others, god, the others. Everyone who had given their life for him, everyone who had brightened up his.
Sarah-Jane, who he had missed so dearly all these years.
Reinette, who’s saviour and protector he had become.
Tommy, who had been so brilliant for his age.
The Ood, who had accompanied him through all of his journey.
Joan, who John had fallen in love with, who he had spent his life with trying to be happy.
Timothy, who had been braver than anyone he had met.
Sally, who had saved his life.
Astrid, who could finally be with the stars.
Jenny, who had reminded him of his children.
River, who he can’t wait to see again.
Jackson, who he truly believed was him.
Christina, whose life he hoped he made a little brighter as well.
Adelaide, who he, in his pure delusion, had tried to save.
He cherished each of them.
Now, he would die. They wouldn’t know. Most of them at least. Most of them were dead. Some because of him.
He was selfish. He had cheated death and now he couldn’t deal with the thought of dying. He was so close, so close to simply leaving, to letting Wilf die due to his own stupidity.
It wasn’t fair. Why was he always supposed to save everyone? Why couldn’t he just save his own skin and walk out, walk away and run. He had always run, why couldn’t he do it now? Wilf said it himself, he was old anyway.
Yet, he couldn't. He couldn’t just walk out. He had to do this. He had to save everyone he got the chance to save because yes, they would die one day, but not today. Today wasn’t the day for the only man on earth who believed in him to die.
It hurt. It hurt so goddamn bad. It was fine though, he could take this. He would die here and now but that was fine. He was ready to die.
Only, he didn’t. He walked out of that booth, alive.
His regeneration had started.
He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to change. There was so much he wanted to do, so many people he wanted to meet. It wasn’t fair. Why was he supposed to go now? Why couldn’t he stay? He needed to stay! He wanted to see them all again.
So he did. He saved them one last time. Or in Jack's case, he helped them out one last time. He even went to the book signing. The stupid book stupid Joan had written about them. He wouldn’t have time to read it anyway, so what did it matter.
She was happy in the end. That’s why it mattered.
He even saw her again. New Years Day 2005. The year they met. She looked stunning. He missed her so bad, but he knew she was happy as well.
He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t leave. He had delayed it for so long. Every movement burned in his bones, his muscles turning to acid each time he forced them to work. ‘Just a moment longer’ he had told himself.
Only that moment was over.
“I don’t want to go”, he begged, but it was too late.
Regeneration always felt weird. Sure, he was still himself, but all of those memories, those painful pictures of the past seemed a little further in the past, a little less important now that it was a new person's take. His song had ended and now they played a new one.
It was time for another Doctor.