Title: Once in A Million Years
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Ten.5
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG
Table: 5, 12_stories
Prompt: 01, Love
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 frowned as he headed down the corridor of the Tardis that led to the library. He hadn't been able to find John in any other room on the ship, and he was fairly sure that this was where his lover would be if he wasn't anywhere else.

The library always seemed to be the room John went to when he was feeling unsettled -- much as he himself had always done. The Time Lord couldn't help smiling at that realization; it was easy to know just what John would do at certain times.

They might not be exactly the same, but they were so much alike in so many ways. John was his own man, of course; not only did he have a human body, but his personality differed from the Doctor's, and the Time Lord saw that division as a good thing.

After all, he wouldn't want John to be exactly like him, to feel that he had to parallel another man in every way. He wanted John to feel free to be an individual, and the other man didn't seem to have any problems with doing so.

But lately, he'd been withdrawn, quiet, as if there was something bothering him that he didn't want to let the Doctor know about. The Time Lord had been patient, holding back his curiosity, but he'd been worried about his lover's state of mind.

Whatever it was that apparently made John so withdrawn was something he'd have to address. It was time for him to draw his lover out of the shell he was hiding in; his lover appeared to be sinking into a state of melancholy, and he didn't want that to continue.

The Doctor hesitated only a few steps away from the library door; it almost felt like he was invading John's privacy, and he didn't want the other man to feel pressured. But he was doing this for John's own good, he reminded himself, taking a deep breath and moving forward.

As he'd thought, John was seated on the library couch, curled up on one side of it, his long legs drawn up to his chin. He was obviously thinking, he was staring at the fireplace, even though he knew that it wasn't a real one, as if he saw leaping, crackling flames where there were none.

John didn't look up as the Doctor walked across the room; when the Time Lord sat down on the couch next to him, his head jerked up, his eyes wide and surprised, as though he hadn't realized that the other man was in the room.

The Doctor turned towards his lover, reaching for John's hands and taking them in his. He swallowed hard, not quite knowing how to begin the conversation; he wanted to pour out his concern, ask John what was bothering him and what he could do to help.

"John, what is it? What's wrong?" he whispered, the words coming unbidden to his lips, spilling out in a way that he hadn't intended for them to. But they were out now; he couldn't take them back. He'd just have to hope that John didn't take them as prying.

"I-I've been thinking a lot lately about how I must fail you," John murmured, looking down at their clasped hands. "How much I can't give you. I want to do more, be more. But I can't, Doctor. I can only be .... what I am."

"What you are is the man I love," the Doctor told him, disentangling one hand from John's and raising it to his lover's face, cupping John's cheek and making the other man meet his gaze. "That's all you need to be, John. I don't expect anything else from you."

"But I do," John whispered, his voice breaking on the words. "You deserve so much more than what I can be, Doctor. You deserve someone who can give you forever -- be with you for the rest of you life. I can't do that, as much as I want to."

"John ...." The Doctor was lost for words; he really didn't know what he could say that would reassure the man next to him. He wanted to tell John that it didn't matter how much time they had together; the important thing was that they had each other for whatever time they were given.

He didn't need to say those words; in his heart, his single human heart, John already knew that. The Doctor wrapped his arms around the other man and pulled him close, wanting to feel the beating of that single heart against his own.

"I love you," he whispered, the words choked by tears. "I love you more than I've ever loved anyone, John. More than I thought it could be possible for me to love. And it doesn't matter to me if you have centuries with me, or years. As long as I have you."

"You'll always have me," John told him, his own voice husky and tearful. "Even when I'm not here with you in body any more -- I'll always be a part of you, Doctor. I just wish I could give you more than that. I wish I could give you everything you deserve."

"Listen to me, John," the Doctor told him, grasping the other man's chin and looking into his eyes. "A love like this comes along once in a million years, if that. The time we have together isn't important. It's how we spend that time with each other that matters."

John nodded, his dark gaze burning into the Doctor's for what seemed like a very long time. Finally, he rested his forehead on the Doctor's shoulder, his own arms sliding around the Time Lord's waist. They sat there quietly, holding each other close, their heartbeats thudding in a slow, steady rhythm.

"I know you're right," John told him, sighing softly and lifting his head to look at the Doctor again. "But I can't help feeling that I should give you more. Being human limits me in so many ways. It keeps me from being all I want to be for you."

The Doctor shook his head, raising a hand to stroke John's hair back from his face. "No, John, it doesn't," he said quietly, his dark eyes meeting the other man's. "I don't expect anything from you other than to be who you are. No more, no less."

"And I'm essentially you -- so shouldn't you expect more than what you could get from a human?" John said, sounding a little bitter. "I would give anything to be able to give you the forever I know you need, Doctor. And knowing that I can't give you that tears me up inside."

"As long as you love me, then nothing else matters," the Doctor whispered, wanting to make those words sink into John's consciousness. "If it's a day, a year, ten years .... ten centuries, I don't care. Don't you see, John? Just having your love is enough."

"I'll always wish that I could give you more," John told him, taking a deep breath and managing a smile as he spoke. "But if my love is enough for you -- then you know that you have it, Doctor. Not only for now, but for all eternity."

"And you have mine," the Doctor told him, leaning forward to brush his lips against the other man's. He felt John's arms tighten around him, pulling him closer, the warmth of his lover's body coursing through him along with the warmth of the love they shared.

Had he ever loved anyone else this much? he asked himself as their lips met. No, never. There had never been anyone else in his life who was anything like John -- and while his existence might have been an accident, in the Doctor's eyes it was the best thing that could have happened.

Of course there was no one else like John for him -- because John was him. A mirror image, though he was his own person. There was no one else who could understand him in the way John could -- and no one else who would ever love him like this.

John was a part of him in a way that no one else could ever hope to be -- not only figuratively, but literally. There were times when it felt that he'd been looking for this man all of his life -- and as he'd told John, what they had only came along once in a million years.

It didn't matter how he and John were connected; it only mattered that they were connected, that they were a part of each other. And as far as the Doctor was concerned, they always would be -- if not for a million years, then for however long they were given.

***