Last Moments

by wolvesandgirls [Reviews - 1]

  • All Ages
  • None
  • Angst, Introspection

Author's Notes:
+ first fic I've written in two years so bear with me.
+ inspired by a lot of things, but mostly David's incredible acting in this scene.
+ enjoy. x

It’s the first time he’s actually set foot on the sands of Bad Wolf Bay, and he is struck at how cold and grey it is. How it’s the worst place to say goodbye.

He wants to spend his last few moments here (his last few moments with her) taking in her beauty. Taking in the lines of her face, and how she seems so much older. Seems more battle weary and tougher around the edges.

How she’ll never need him again.

He’ll always need her though.

His pink and yellow human. His precious Rose. He decides that she has never looked more terrifyingly beautiful.

He spends their last few moments explaining; explaining the complicated man standing behind her. The complicated man with his face and one heart. The complicated man that will have everything he has ever wanted in this body and everything he doesn’t deserve.

He tells her that they’re the same. The complicated man explains the rest. Same memories, same thoughts, same everything. They are the same man in every way that counts. He calls the complicated man dangerous, because that’s what he is.

He spends their last few moments telling her that she has to stay, and the words taste like poison in his mouth. They burn and claw their way up his throat and tangle there, ripping him apart from the inside. He knows that if he speaks, his voice will break, he will break.

He’s not ready to leave (he never will be when it comes to her) but he can feel the walls of reality closing in around him, and the pressure and tension of timelines pull and push down on his bone weary body. He can’t imagine this one lasting that much longer.

How could it when she wasn’t around.

Her voice stops him (it always has, it always will) and he steps towards her as if drawn to her (he was, is, always), stopping across from the dangerous, complicated man that was him.

He spends their last few moments listening, listening to her proposition and feeling both his hearts tear themselves apart, because this would hurt. The poison resurfaced in his throat, and he tried to gulp it back as he says her name.

“I said, “Rose Tyler...”

“Yeah, and how was that sentence gonna end?”

He could feel his throat constricting and the pressure building behind his eyes and hated every cell and molecule in his body. Because this was how she was going to remember him. As a coward. The man who could give her the moon and the stars and carve her name into stones washed away by the shore but wouldn’t tell her three words she deserved to hear.

He tried to take solace in the fact that the dangerous, complicated man could, and that he would. That they were the same. Both as dangerous and complicated as each other. But the other man would stay here, with the love of their lives. He had to go on. Alone.

Always alone.

He wouldn’t get sleepy mornings, with tea and toast. He wouldn’t get wine tainted kisses or sensuous gazes or the fine silk of expensive lingerie beneath his fingers. He wouldn’t get to see her wise gaze anymore. Wouldn’t get to hear his name let out on a bemused or exasperated or longing sigh. Wouldn’t get to hold her hand, or feel her hugs, or claim her lips.

The complicated man would help heal the scars of the battle weary soldier, and the battle weary solider would help bring the complicated man, lost in his own skin, into the light. And oh how they would shine.

He had told himself for so long that he didn’t deserve her. He wondered if the dangerous, complicated man felt the same way now.

So for a nanosecond he allowed himself to bask in the trembling of timelines. Because he could. He could tell her and have her. She would claim him. They would travel together for her forever.

But in that forever, he would watch her. Watch as blonde hair slowly turned grey. Watched as she struggled to keep up with him, joints not so forgiving as they had been long ago. Watch as her eyes grew old and liver spots bloomed on the back of her hands.

Watch as she withered and decayed before him.

So he swallows down the poison. Clenches his fists in his pockets, hard enough to feel his fingernails leaving marks on his palms (good). Looks at her.

I’m sorry.

“Does it need saying?”

I’m so sorry, my precious girl.

Her look says it all. Lips parted, biting back the reply. Disappointment all over. He doesn’t want to remember her like this. Disappointed in him.

She turns to the complicated man, asks him the same, and he can see a smile flit across his lips. A bemused acceptance. Maybe he’s just realised that he has it all.

He leans in, touches her arm. This body has always ached to touch her. Ached for her reality. And the last time he (and oh they were a complicated pair) tried to tell her, they were images in each others eyes. No touch.

He’d never touch her again.

These are their last moments together, and he watches as she finally hears those words. Watches the emotions fly quickly across her beautiful face. Watches her hands grab the complicated man’s lapels. Watches their lips meet and their arms wrap around one another.

Watches his dreams come true.

He can’t watch anymore.

He can’t say good-bye. Can’t without pulling her to himself and rewriting history.

So he turns. Turns and walks away and leaves. He knows she’ll never forgive him.

He hopes she does.

The comforting hum of his home envelops him, attempts to soothe what has happened and what is yet to come. It’s too cruel that he has to lose the love of his life and his best friend so soon.

So his last moments on Bad Wolf Bay tick down slowly, down into seconds and milliseconds and nanoseconds. He flicks switches with ease, smothers down all emotion within him. Sends one last thought onto the wind as he feels the walls of reality repair themselves.

Rose Tyler,

He hopes it finds her wherever she is. His reason for dying, and then his reason for living.

I love you.