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“I think it was your mortality," the Doctor said, staring out at the stars.
Donna turned toward him. “What?”
“That day, when you and Rose let the metacrisis go. I don't think it had to do with being women. Because I’ve been…a woman. In your terms. And I don't think it's as much a fundamental difference as you think it is. But you all…I’d never think to let it go. Even as the last me.” His eyes were reproachful. “No, it's your humanity.”
“You mean you wouldn't have been able to let it go?”
“I mean it wouldn't have crossed my mind. Well, if I thought hard enough about it, maybe. But if I was faced with death the way you lot are…” he trailed off, shrugging slightly.
He turned to her. “Donna, you know I can't die the way you do.”
“I know. You've lived dozens of lives before me, and who knows how many you'll live after me. That's just how this works, I suppose.”
“But it's not just that. I know that I’ll continue, in some way. It feels like dying, but I know somehow that it isn't the end. Not fully.
“But you lot, you go on, running around, finding me again,” the corner of his mouth twitched upwards into an almost smile, “and blundering through life because you know you only get one chance. You go and fall in love, and break your heart, and tape it back together and move on. You don't realize how incredible that is. But me…I hate endings. I hate goodbyes, and losing people. It breaks me, Donna, and I can't come back from that. I can't. Not like humans can.”
“No, Doctor.” She reached out, taking his hand in hers. “You think we come back the same? We mourn, yes. We get broken. But the whole point is that we change. It hurts to say goodbye, it's horrible when something wonderful ends. But you don't pretend that everything is ok. Bottling it up and chucking it out, that's not how you cope. That's not healthy for anyone. And you've got so much that you've been running from. I know it hurts, but that's part of being alive. And you are so alive.” She gave his hand a small squeeze.
“You can't imagine what I’ve felt. What I’m feeling. It's like…like the world will end if I don't keep running. Like I’m pulling everything with me, and if I stop, then everything comes crashing down on me, on everyone. You can't imagine what that's like.”
“I don't have to, Doctor,” she said softly. “I was in your head.”
“You told me you couldn't remember. I thought you were safe from all of it.”
“Not all the memories. I don't remember everything. But emotions, they're so much stronger than words. I know your pain, because I've felt it. I know your heartbreak, but I also know your unimaginable love for everyone. For everything. That is more than anyone could feel. Your empathy.
“It wasn't your thoughts that hurt me the most, when we were the Doctor Donna. It was your feelings. You feel everything. Everything is so strong. There is nothing you don't care about. That is humanity. You don't have to face permanent death to feel that.”
They sat in silence for a while.
“I feel like it's worse, sometimes,” he finally said. “Like you live your life, and then it ends. I never know who's coming next. I don't know if they'll be someone I’m proud of. If they'll tear down everything I’ve built. I’ve done terrible things, Donna. Billions have been killed in my name.”
“That wasn't all you.”
“Oh, don't start. You know how much of it was. And the rest…I’m still me when I have a different face. If I become someone who directly causes a genocide, or is responsible for the death of half the universe, that's because on some level I chose to be that person. It's not chance. Nothing is random. You, well, you saw the Toymaker. It feels like everything is like that sometimes. Like it’s all a game. I run around, chasing a high, dashing through the universe like my life depends on it, because my life depends on it, and then…” He trailed off, looking lost.
“And then I’m reminded that there are consequences. That it’s not a game. Someone dies, or everyone dies, and nothing will ever be the same. And I get that over, and over, and over, and I just can’t anymore. I can’t, I just can’t.” He turned away, furtively trying to blink away tears.
“Come here, Doctor.” Donna pulled him in, hugging his head into her chest. His body began shaking with barely contained sobs. “You don’t have to hide,” she murmured, stroking his hair. “You’re all right. I’m here with you.”
They sat for a while, the silence broken only by his muffled grieving.
“You run away from everything, even yourself. You change your face, and your personality, everything. All to try to get away from your past. But it's come back for a reason. It's time to go back. To revisit yourself. Your past. Your history. To sit with it. Learn from it. This face has lost so much. But it’s also learned. You helped so many people, Doctor. So many people who see this face and are grateful for it. Pompeii, the Ood, Rose, Martha, me. And yes, our lives were not easy when we were with you, but we chose to be there. We knew the risks. Rose, your Rose, knew what would happen, and you saw what she did just to get a chance to see you again. You put yourself on the line again, and again, and again, just to see us safe. And at the end of everything, when you’d survived it all, you sacrificed yourself for just a man. Don’t get me wrong,” she smiled halfheartedly, “Grandad is a fighter. But at the end of it all, you did what was fundamentally you. At the end of everything, Time Lord Victorious, you died so that an old man could survive. If I know anything, I know that you are that.”
“But how many more? How many have died in my name? How many people have I promised to save, only to lose them? How many have died in my arms?” He broke for a moment, his voice cracking. “The Master refused to regenerate as I held him in my lap. I begged, I screamed for him to regenerate. He beat me then, by refusing to submit. I loved him. And he gave up in my arms.”
“But the Master’s not gone, Doctor. You’ve told me before, he’s come back. You didn’t lose him,” she said, softly.
“Yeah, and pretended everything was fine. What am I supposed to do, pretend otherwise? I can’t talk to the Master like that. There’s only so much you can do about your childhood friend who becomes your enemy only to spite you by dying. Or not dying. If the Master can pretend it’s ok, then I need to, too. I wasn’t the one who died forever.”
“Oh, Doctor,” she murmured. “Nobody in their right minds should expect you to be ok. And out of everyone, the Master is the one who knows that the most. They can use that against you, pretending everything is fine while both of you are falling apart. Until one of you breaks, it’ll be a never ending cycle of the two of you running as fast and as hard as you can away from everything that hurts. Eventually, one of you will stop, and realize just how messed up everything is. This isn’t a competition of who can keep their cool for longer. You don’t need to fight.”
“Every life I’ve lived since the Time War has been born to fight.”
“And maybe it’s time to go back to being a Doctor. To clean up the aftermath of the battle. Dust yourself off, sit down for a minute. Live. Just…live.”
They sat there for a while longer, in the silence of the night.
“Thank you,” he murmured, finally. “Thank you for seeing me.”
Donna pulled him closer. “This isn’t the end, you know. For you. You met your next self. You know you’ll be ok. And you know that one day, maybe soon, maybe centuries from now, you’ll be able to pick up where you left off, but you’ll be able to do it. You won’t have to hold yourself back from feeling, but you’ll have learned to let go a little. To relax. This isn’t over, by the way,” she continued, smiling, “I’m not letting you off the hook because of one little heart-to-heart. Or hearts. I’m gonna make you keep checking in, space man. Make sure you don’t wander too far.”
“From you, earth girl? Never.”