Work Text:
In space, it is always night.
Alone in his travels, the Doctor had no twilight inside the TARDIS. His adventures kept him busy, ahead of the darkness. But with companions, when they slept, there was no escape from the quiet stretches of claustrophobic night.
It was worse with the Ponds. Their matrimonial slumber caused old wounds to itch. Scar tissue from other lives, of stars that banished night.
Restless and haunted by his mind, he would invariably find himself at the TARDIS entrance. His gaze would marvel at the celestial glories, consumed with gratitude for his practical Donna who showed him such a simple pleasure.
It had been bitter sweet when he opened those doors for Amy’s delight. One ginger girl a sad reminder of yet another unreachable past. But then he laughed at Donna’s probable reaction to such a flight, so clear in his mind that he could hear her startled, outraged cry as though she were right there with them.
After his companions’ wedding, having been re-born to red hair and another white dress, he had stood there and wept - for long lost mates, boys running through crimson grass, and forbidden nights stolen by a man wearing his face. Then he closed the doors to the past along with blue wooden ones and said good-bye.
When the Doctor looked at the heavens now, he thought only of his temptress - all sparks and gun fire, hair as soft and wild as the lady herself; full lips pressed firmly against his, rousing new incredible possibilities of passion, commitment, and unbelievable equanimity. He thought of River Song lying on her cot in her own darkness under relentless rain, thinking about him... and he yearned for the next time she would bring her light back to end their night.