Title: How Am I Different
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: gen
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG
Table: 50_darkfics
Prompt: 78, Different
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.

***

He'd always been different. Even when he was at home on Gallifrey, the one place where he'd always felt that he could fit in, he'd been different.

It shouldn't matter so much, the Doctor told himself fiercely, clenching his small fists at his sides. It didn't matter. No one who had known him on Gallifrey was still alive -- well, no one except the Master, and he wasn't counting on running into that particular nemesis any time soon.

He was safe in the Tardis, away from the Master -- away from anyone or anything that might come looking for him. He was in the one place in the world where he could feel secure, where that gnawing feeling of always being so completely different from everything around him didn't follow him. The one place where he wasn't .... alien.

But he was only alien to the people around him, a part of his mind argued. And they didn't have to know. He looked like a normal, garden-variety human being.

The Doctor's mouth twisted in a wry,self-deprecating smile. He was anything but normal, even in his own world. He'd always been the odd man out on Gallifrey, even as a child. There had been something about him that had made others keep their distance, something that hadn't seemed quite right to everyone around him.

When he was a child, he'd tried his best to hide whatever it was about himself that made him seem so different -- though he hadn't been able to put his finger on exactly what it was. He'd spent so much time agonizing over his faults; so much so that he hadn't been able to see the things about himself that people were attracted to.

By the time he'd realized just what those good points were, it had been far too late. He'd become a Time Lord, and his time on Gallifrey had been reduced to a few fleeting visits every few centuries. Not enough to form friendships -- and certainly not relationships.

Oh, he'd had more than a few of both in his time. But they'd always ended badly -- and he couldn't help wondering if it was his intrinsic difference that made every person who he tried to get close to back away after a very short period of time.

Some of them had been disturbed by the strange bond between himself and his Tardis. But that wasn't a bond that he was prepared to give up -- even if he'd been able to, which he wasn't. That bond reached so deep into his soul that it would be like tearing out a part of himself to lose it; and he needed the Tardis in more ways than he could begin to enumerate.

She was his home, his shelter, his .... best friend, in a way. Even on his home planet, where each and every Tardis was unique and special, his bond with his ship had been something of a mystery, yet another thing that set him apart, made him different.

No Time Lord had ever bonded to a Tardis in the way that he had. Not to the point where the ship sustained the man, not only mentally, but emotionally and physically as well.

It had been whispered about behind raised hands, a topic that shocked and scandalized people. He'd been regarded with suspicion, looked at as being some sort of freak. There had even been those who had gone out of their way to avoid him, making him feel even more isolated.

When he'd left Gallifrey, he'd felt a profound sense of relief. There would be no more whispers, no more feeling that he was being watched by calculating eyes everywhere he went. No more feeling that he couldn't fit in, no matter how hard he tried. There were bound to be other places where he could slide seamlessly into the fabric of being.

Of course, he'd been wrong about that, to his dismay. But he'd learned to accept it, and to accept the fact that he would always be thought of as "different." He'd learned to push the feelings of inadequacy away, put them into the back of his mind and pretend they weren't there.

And there had been times when he'd almost felt that he fit in with humans. Almost. But something had always happened to bring the fact that he wasn't like them to the forefront -- and to point out his differences in a glare that almost blinded him with its relentlessness.

What made him so different? Was it the fact that he had such a long life span? Was it that he looked at life differently from humans? Or was it just that he'd seen and done so many things that they would never be able to understand?

No. It was all of those things, and more. It wasn't just one or two small, unimportant traits that made him different. It was everything; it was a huge chasm that separated him from humans, one that he would never be able to leap over. It would always be there.

He'd just left Earth, not knowing where he was headed, and not really caring. He just had to get away from humans for a while -- away from everything that made him feel conspicuous.

Sighing, he leaned over the console, studying the readouts. Where was he headed to? He really didn't know at this point; he only wanted to get away from Earth for a while, to go somewhere that he could be alone and think about what he would do next.

He couldn't keep back another wry smile; fancy that. He wanted to be alone. That was why he'd always had companions in the past -- to avoid the very thing he was now embracing. Odd turnabout, that was. One that he headn't expected from himself.

Being on Earth only pointed out his differences; to himself if not to others. The longer he was there, the more his feelings of frustration piled up until he couldn't deal with them any longer. It wasn't that he felt inadequate when compared to humans -- no, that wasn't it, not at all. Then what was it? he asked himself, his inner voice genuinely curious.

It was because he couldn't be like them, another voice piped up from the back of his mind. Even though they were inferior to him in many ways -- he wanted to be human. He wanted to be able to live the way they did.

And he couldn't. He'd never be able to do that -- he'd been born to be what he was, and even if the rest of the world could regard him as a blessing, there were times when he couldn't help but look at his existence as being more of a curse.

At least if he went somewhere that he could be alone, he wouldn't be constantly reminded of all the differences that set him apart from the people he wanted so desperately to accept him.

He frowned as he focused on the console again; apparently, the Tardis was deciding for him where they should go. It wouldn't be the first time his ship had done that; she'd taken him to places that he hadn't expected to be in, and he could usually trust her judgement.

But this time .... He looked at the console again, blinking, a gasp coming from his throat. No. The Tardis wasn't doing this. She might know what was best for him at times, but this time, she'd gone completely barmy.

She'd taken him back to Earth. To Cardiff. To the very place he'd wanted to get away from, the place that made him feel the distance that separated him from humans more than any other place on Earth he'd ever been.

He wanted to ask his ship just what she'd been thinking, just why he was back in the very place he'd wanted to leave when he'd entered the Tardis and closed the door behind him with the thought strong in his mind that he didn't want to come back here for a long, long time. He wanted to rage, scream, and stamp his foot on the floor. He wanted to demand to be taken out of here.

But he did none of those things. He merely leaned against the console, closing his eyes and preparing himself to walk out of the door. Preparing himself to face his differences yet again -- to pull on that suit of impenetrable armor that he always tried to wear.

He'd been wearing it for so long that he wasn't quite sure how to take it off any more. Or even if he could -- or if he wanted to.

At least it kept him protected .... though from what, he couldn't say. Possibly only from his own mind, and the thoughts that he never quite managed to push into the background.

The Doctor headed for the door of his ship, shoving his hands into his pockets. For some reason, he seemed to be meant to be here. He didn't know why the Tardis had brought him here, but there had to be a reason. And he needed to discover what it was.

His eyes widened as a thought occurred to him, and he stopped in his tracks, only a few steps from the door.

Maybe she'd brought him back here because he was meant to be around humans more -- not to point out his differences, but to make him feel more comfortable with them. Or perhaps even to make him realize that those differences weren't as important as his own mind was making them out to be. Maybe being here was for his own good.

Well, he was never going to know if he didn't go out there and .... mingle with humans. Talk to them. Breathe them in. Be around them, observe them, even if he couldn't be like them. And he knew exactly where to start.

Torchwood. Jack Harkness. And the few people on Earth who knew who he was -- and who would accept him regardless of the differences that he thought put such a barrier between himself and everyone else in the world.

Maybe those barriers weren't as impenetrable as he thought.

Smiling, the Doctor bounded towards the door. Torchwood it was, as soon as he could find his way there. And with a bit of luck, he'd be able to avoid trouble on the way.

***