Title: Hollow Man
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: gen
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG
Table: prompt_palooza
Prompt: 88, Hollow
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor wandered down the path through the forest he'd landed the Tardis in, unsure of where he was going and not really caring. His hands were jammed into his pockets, his head down, watching his feet on the path rather than taking in the scenery around him.

Why had he come here? There hadn't really been a reason, he supposed. He'd just felt the need to be in a place where he could think about his life, and all the twists and turns that had led him to the point he was at now.

Not that there was really much to think about. Everything that had happened to him had been no more than what he should have expected, after all. He was a Time Lord; he couldn't afford to think that his life would be an easy one.

He'd known that from the time he was a child, that his life was going to be filled with situations he'd rather not be in. He hadn't gone into being what he was without a knowledge of it.

But he hadn't counted on this .... emptiness. When he was younger, he'd thought that he could fill his life with adventure, with outward things that could wrap him in some sort of happiness. He hadn't known how hard doing that would be.

It wasn't adventures that made him happy. He enjoyed being what he was, of course. If he'd hated his life, then he would have chosen to end it long ago, rather than regenerating into the person he was now. He'd had that choice, many times over.

Or was it just that the self-preservation instinct had kicked in and refused to let him die? He'd had the opportunity to let it all go more than once, and he hadn't done so. Though he couldn't say if it was a will to live -- or merely a curiosity to see who he would be next.

The Master had let himself die -- but then, he'd been offering the Master a life that the other man wouldn't have considered a life. He'd made his choice of his own free will.

He'd watched the Master die -- just as he'd watched others who he'd cared for die. He'd watched strangers die, and people who had come to be his friends. And a part of him would always carry the guilt for their deaths, the knowledge that he couldn't save them.

That was part of the curse of being a Time Lord, the curse that came along with all of the good points about being what he was. He'd known that taking on this mantle would be a double-edged sword, and he'd chosen to accept that.

But he hadn't known how hollow he would feel inside as each person left him in this world, the emptiness that would never quite be filled. Companions couldn't fill it; they always left him, just as his friends did.

It wasn't by their choice, not all of the time. They were human; death was an inevitability for them. Just as it would one day be for him.

The ones who had left of their own free will had been given that choice. He wouldn't force anyone to stay with him if they didn't want to. But that didn't make it hurt any less when they turned their backs on him, when they chose another life over being with him.

He couldn't blame them, really. They'd had lives before he'd become a part of them, and he had no right to keep them from fulfilling the promise of those lives. He'd wished them all well, and hoped that they'd be happy with the lives they'd chosen.

Once, just once, he wanted to be first in someone's life. The few times that he had been, those people had been ripped away from him by circumstances they didn't choose, whether it was by death or something else that had happened.

Of course, there were some who'd been taken away from him that he hadn't minded seeing the back of, he told himself wryly. But he didn't want to waste his time with those thoughts.

It all came back to the same thing. In the end, he was the one who was left alone, wandering in time and space with no particular place to go, nowhere to call home. He was the one who had a gaping hole in his life that nothing seemed able to fill.

Would anything ever fill that hollow space? He didn't think so; it seemed impossible to find any companion who would stay with him. And the only one who had the capability of doing that had told him in no uncertain terms that he wouldn't stay.

That was yet another situation he didn't want to think about. Being pushed away so definitely had let him know that it was past time to put that relationship behind him, and he was making sure that he did so. There was no going back.

Even if he could have gone back, he wouldn't really have wanted to. The past shouldn't be relived over and over; it was the future that counted.

It was rather ironic that he should feel that way, he thought with yet another wry smile quirking his lips. He could go back to the past any time he wanted to; odd that he should be at the point where it held no interest for him.

Maybe he was just getting jaded with who and what he was, he mused, pausing to look around him, standing in the leafy green shade and letting the peace and quiet of the wooded area soothe his troubled spirit.

That was no way for him to feel. Yes, he'd lived for an extremely long time, and he'd done quite a lot in that long life. But he still had much more ahead of him; there was no reason for him to think that he wouldn't be able to find some satisfaction in that life.

Still, a life lived completely alone had no enticement for him. He wanted -- no, needed -- a companion, someone who would stand by him.

Not just a companion, really. He was looking for more than that. He'd found that with Jack, but not with anyone else. Maybe he should keep things that way; let the one relationship that had crossed that line remain the only one.

Yes, that was what he should do. Not look for a lover, only a companion. Someone like Donna, who'd been more like a sister to him than anyone else who'd ever been in his life. Someone who would keep him in line, bicker with him, be a friend.

Definitely not another companion who fancied they were in love with him when he had no sort of romantic interest in them in any way! He'd had more than enough of that. Those had been the ones he'd been glad to see leave.

There would never be another Jack in his life, anyway, he told himself with a sigh. That sort of thing happened once in a lifetime -- or, in his case, in many lifetimes.

No, it was better not to look back on the past. Instead, he had to concentrate on the future, and whatever it might hold for him. That was better than constantly dwelling on regrets, feeling that he should have done this or that differently.

He would just have to resign himself to the fact that the hollow, empty place inside of him would never be filled. It wouldn't be easy to come to terms with that, but somehow, he'd manage to do it -- just as he had done other things that had been equally unpalatable.

He was a Time Lord. The last of his kind. He was destined to be alone, and the sooner he accepted his destiny and came to terms with it, the better. He couldn't change that fate; all he could do was try to make the best of what he had.

As long as the rest of the universe didn't realize that he was a hollow man, he'd be just fine.

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