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09 September 2010 @ 01:29 am
[fic] Doctor Who - All The Hell I Put You Through  
Title: All The Hell I Put You Through
Author: lingers
Series: Doctor Who.
Pairing: Eleven/Rose, Ten/Rose.
Characters: The Doctor (Eleven). Mentions Amelia, Rose, The Doctor (Ten), clone!Ten, and Jackie. Mentions a truck-load of other characters.
Rating: PG.
Type: One shot.
Summary: Prompt - Eleven/Rose. While the cracks are closing and Eleven is rewinding, he doesn't get a chance to stop before the most important parts in his past life (and they are the ones he doesn't want to go back to relive). Memories and feelings start to unravel and burden him with regret of what he did to Rose the last time he saw her while he was Ten.
Notes: For doctor_rose_fix's fixathon, specifically for asylums. Title is part of the lyrics of the song Konstantine by Something Corporate.


It was something he'd never, ever liked, so it was only natural that he didn't want further guilt trips, further memories of himself to be there afresh as he saw his life literally repeat itself before his eyes. There were so many people, so many people hurt and left behind, all of it his fault. That was something he didn't like to remember, because it was heartbreakingly true, and there was nothing in him to deny it. Thinking about it too much would eventually rip anyone apart - even a time lord. He'd lived through the guilt of Amelia Pond's life, to when she was a child, waiting in the back garden for a mad man in a blue box to come back and take her away into the stars. Only, if he wasn't about to disappear from time altogether, she wouldn't meet him for a long time to come.

That in itself had its repercussions.

She was asleep when he found her. He'd picked her up, tucked her into bed. And, whilst sitting there, talking to her sleeping form, the Doctor decided that this was enough. He didn't want to see anymore. It was finally time to press the skip scene button on the tv remote; to finish it, himself, off completely.

But, not only for the fact that reruns were a bore. But the fact of what would follow, something that almost made him panic, something he'd been trying to avoid. And, whilst there was guilt for Amy and Rory, and the guilt that was surely to come yet – guilt for Donna, Jack, Martha, Sarah-Jane, guilt for so many other people who had been around him - he knew all of that wouldn't compare to feelings that would surface for one human girl.

Rose. Rose Tyler.

The most important part of his tenth and ninth life. The girl he missed, the girl who he'd left behind on a beach, the girl he had to gently push away. And he was going back to it. ... Would be going back in a matter of mere seconds.

But that was the thing. He didn't want to, as buried regret would claw its way out. Not just guilt, but regret. Regret he didn't want to feel.

He'd chosen back then what he was going to do. Chosen it for her sake. He had to hold onto that... not see it again and feel... feel regret. And it would torture him, right up till the end of his existence. And he didn’t want that.

Maybe he was a coward. Maybe that's all he ever had been.

Yet, if there was one thing the Doctor did best, it was running. Running was the one thing he knew how to do right. Right from regenerating into his eleventh form, all he'd been doing was running.

So, standing up, he was ready to give himself to the crack in Amy Pond's wall, ready to throw it all away and not have to look, to run. Three steps. That's all it would take. Three. But it was too late; he was already being thrown back, thrown back into the memories of his tenth life.

A coward has to face his fears in the end.

- - -

Wilf. Adelaide. Christina. Jackson Lake. Donna. All important, yet painful, memories. But he steeled himself against them, watching, and waiting; they all went by quick, just moments, significant moments, not long enough for him to contemplate a method of escape to what was destined to come.

Bad Wolf Bay.

As he thought the name, it existed, recreating itself around him. At first, there was white, and then the details become more clear, sand in his shoes, the roaring tide and the call of gulls out at sea. And he could see people further down the beach, whilst he was crouched near to the rocks, out of sight, but he was close enough to make them out and hear their voices. There was his tenth self, and Donna, and the clone, and Jackie, and--

And Rose.

He could see her again with these new eyes, even if he didn't want to. And he didn't have the gall to close them or look away. And it hurt, hurt to simply be able to watch her. Because she was there. She was so alive, so much there, just a finger length away... but something he couldn't have. Something he couldn’t touch and steal away. He'd been spoiled for the ending of that story.

The hero always get the girl. Not the Lonely God, The Destroyer of Worlds. Not the Doctor.

... It was worse than being there the first time.

His mind dangerously wandered to what he'd buried.

It's your own doing. You gave her away to him.

Because he had to. Because that was what was best for her. Because she had to stay with him and help him fix the way he was, like she had done in the past...

And what about you?

He was fine.

Liar. You wanted her to stay. She wanted to stay. She travelled all that way across the stars, jumping from universe to universe... and you left her here.

It had been the only way.

... if only he could really convince himself of that. If only. And right now, he couldn't. Right now, watching the tormented look on his past self's face, the look on Rose's face, in her eyes, as he slowly persuaded her to let go of him, and not just for a defined period of time, but forever...

It was so clear. She wanted to be with him. Not the double. To travel in the TARDIS, with him. With him. With him...

Jumping from world to world. Looking for him. All those years, all those hopes and dreams. And he just took her straight back here, once the thought crossed his mind.

Finally, the Doctor looked away, closing his eyes. He didn't want to think on this, to let go of his firmly grounded thoughts on it. But he was thinking. He'd always seen this as a selfless desire... to let Rose go. With someone who could be human, could live and breathe and die with her, but... maybe it was one of the most selfish things he'd ever done. Persuading her to leave, and leaving her behind. That, at this minute, was not what she wanted.

She could have come with him.

It had always been a possibility. Always. But not now; not after all this time. Not even as he glanced back, to see Rose questioning the two Doctors, to asking what they were going to say to her.

His tenth self said nothing, leaving it to the clone to speak the words, to pull her away. But the feeling in the air was easy to read.

By not answering, he hurt her.

By walking away as the other two kissed, he hurt her.

No goodbyes.

That hurt her more.

Just her tear stained eyes, her tear stained face, as the TARDIS flickered and vanished back to its true world, the world Rose belonged in, not this one. And all that was left was an unfamiliar hand to hold, that, even if he wasn't so deeply in love with her as he had once been, he wanted to run over there and hold it instead, to tell her one thing. One small thing.

"I'm sorry, Rose."

His voice was quiet, but the wind carried it-- and she looked, turning right to the rocks, right to where he'd been watching her from the start. And she was looking right into his face, even if she couldn't possibly see it, or... could she...?

But the Doctor was not time's master. She was his mistress, and she had a habit of taking things away from him.

A crack appeared in the rock next to him, and his hand scraped against it. And Rose, her questioning expression, the step she was sure to start taking and the run that would follow, was gone.
mood: contemplativecontemplative
i'll keep my head up high: heavenlingers on September 17th, 2010 09:59 pm (UTC)
/hands tissues? D:

I'm glad you liked it, though! :)