Title: All I Need
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Ten.5
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: 4
Prompt: 64, Comfort
Author's Note: The human version of the Doctor is being referred to as John Smith in this fic, since it's the Doctor's human alias and his clone needed a name.
Author's Note: Spoilers for Journey's End, somewhat. This is an completely alternate take on the ending of Season Four.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor, or his human clone. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor leaned back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling of the Tardis and crossing his legs as he rested them on the edge of the ship's console. He'd had something on his mind for the past few weeks, something that wouldn't go away.

John had seemed to be recovering from his encounter with John Hart with no problems; the two of them had been close, emotionally and physically, and he was almost positive that his clone wasn't going to have any scars from the experience, either inside or out.

But he couldn't be sure of that, could he? After all, John was human. Yes, he had a Time Lord brain, and all of the Doctor's memories and experiences locked up inside his mind. But the fact remained that he wasn't a Time Lord.

And that fact made him all too vulnerable. The Doctor wasn't quite sure just what he needed -- or how to fulfill those needs once he found out what they were.

He'd never been good at offering comfort to anyone, beyond a sympathetic hug and his usual "I'm sorry -- I'm so sorry" words. But those words didn't seem to carry weight, not with all that John had been through.

That was partially his fault; he couldn't stop blaming himself for letting John Hart get close enough to his beloved to have been able to spirit him away. If only he'd been more alert, more careful, watched John more closely, looked out for him more ....

The Doctor shook his head, sighing and pressing a hand to his head. It was starting to ache, and he wasn't doing himself any good by brooding over what had already happened. It was in the past, over and done; he couldn't do anything to change it.

But his immediate problem remained. He wanted to offer John comfort, in any way that he could .... but how was he going to do that without giving the impression that he was continually going back to a subject that the both of them should put firmly into the past?

It was a thought that had been circling around in his mind ever since he'd brought John back to the Tardis, and he still hadn't come up with any sort of satisfactory answer.

Maybe this was his payback for not being able to comfort people in the past when they'd needed it, he thought wryly, sighing resting his hands on his stomach as he raised his gaze to the ceiling again. He just .... hadn't had the words.

Besides, situations like that made him feel uncomfortable. They always had, ever since he'd been in his first few incarnations. He'd tried to be sympathetic, and he had cared about how other people felt. He just hadn't really been able to show it.

He had an easier time expressing his emotions in this body than he ever had in any other, at least. Maybe it was because he was growing older, and getting more used to interactions with the human race. He was becoming a bit more like them, apparently.

Though not enough like them to be able to give John the comfort he was sure that the other man needed. The Doctor sighed, running a hand through his hair. If only he could be more .... what? He didn't really have a word for what he wanted to be.

John didn't seem to expect anyting from him -- but that was only because the other man knew him so well. Of course he did; John was a part of him. He more than likely even know just how the Doctor was feeling.

Or would he? The Time Lord frowned, his mind working at the question like a dog worrying a bone. John was human. He had the emotional capabilities that the Doctor lacked.

He sighed again, dropping his arms to his sides and gazing up at the ceiling, as if he was studying it. He didn't lack emotions. In fact, he'd been told far too many times when he was at home on Gallifrey that he was far too emotional. It was only one of his many failings.

But to Gallifreyans, his tendency to sympathize too much with the plight of others was a weakness, something that he should try to eradicate. He'd never done that -- but he'd never let it develop, either.

So here he was, somewhere between wanting to take John into his arms and comfort him as much as he possibly could, and feeling that it would be awkward and intrusive if he did so. Caught in the middle, holding himself back and being unsure.

He had to stop this. John needed him, dammit. He might not be human, but he loved the other man -- loved him with all of his hearts and soul. He couldn't hold himself back from John, not when he knew that their time together would be limited by John's humanity.

A soft sound from the corridor leading to their bedroom made him look up; John was standing there, leaning against the wall, looking as unsettled and awkward as he himself felt.

For a few moments, the Doctor couldn't decide what to do. Should he get up and go to John? Should he try to say something, even though he had no idea what words to use that would be of comfort? Or should he wait for the other man to speak first?

He did none of those things. All he did was stand up, clear his throat, and hold out his arms to the man he loved.

And John came into his arms, resting his head against the Doctor's shoulder and wrapping his own arms around the Time Lord's waist. They stood there together, embracing each other wordlessly, for what seemed like an eternity.

Finally, the Doctor lifted a hand to run it through the silken softness of John's hair, breaking the silence and stillness between them. "I'm sorry that I haven't been able to give you what you might have needed to help you put things in the past, John," he whispered, swallowing hard.

John shook his head, pulling back slightly from the Doctor, though he kept his arms around the other man. "You haven't done anything wrong. I didn't expect eloquent words from you, Doctor. I know who you are, remember -- because part of you is me."

"I know," he answered, feeling his hearts swell with love and gratitude towards this man. "But I still feel like I should have been able to at least say some comforting words."

"You don't have to," John said, a small smile curving his mouth. "I don't need comforting words, and I know you aren't good at giving them. Neither am I. That's a part of you that I inherited, I think. We're more alike than you seem to realize."

The Doctor smiled back at the other man, wondering why he hadn't realized that before. John was so much like him -- no, John was him, in a human body. Why hadn't he realized that they would share the same failings, the same weaknesses?

Only maybe they weren't weaknesses, not in the two of them. Maybe they were only weaknesses to others, and they would be able to turn them into their own particular strengths now that they knew they shared those traits.

"All I need is you," John said softly, raising a hand to lay it against the Doctor's cheek. "Just being here with you has helped me more than you know. Just knowing that you love me, and that you came after me. That's enough. That's more than enough."

"Then you have me," the Doctor whispered, moved to near-tears by his lover's words. "For as long as you need me."

John didn't say a word, only rested his head on the Doctor's shoulder again, his arms tightening around the Time Lord's waist. The action made the Doctor's hearts feel lighter than they had for a while; maybe, just maybe, he wasn't all that bad at giving comfort where it was needed.

***