Title: Standing Alone
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: gen
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: doctorwho_100
Prompt: 003, Ends
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.

***

His life always seemed to come down to endings.

And not happy ones most of the time, either, the Doctor reflected, sighing and resting his chin on his hand. All the endings in his life were heart-wrenching, enough to make him feel that maybe being alone was the best way for him to live.

Every time a companion left him, an era of his life was over, even if he was in the same body. It always felt as though a door was closing, and he'd learned that sometimes those doors could never be reopened. It was a painful lesson.

Even when he knew that it was for the best, for the previous companion and most likely for himself as well, it still hurt to have another person leave his life. They might be alive and well, but they were no longer with him.

He wasn't in love with them, but still, it tugged at his hearts -- and even broke them a bit -- to see them walk away from him, back to the lives they'd led before.

Or even sometimes into new lives, lives that they chose to lead without him. Some of them he had let go willingly, knowing that they were doing what would make them happy. Actually, he'd tried to feel that way about all of them.

They were doing what they needed to do -- and in his hearts, he'd always known that they couldn't stay with him. No one could. He had no right to expect anyone to give up their lives to be with him. He'd always said that, ever since he'd first begun to have companions.

How many times had he been over and over this again and again in his own mind? Another sigh slipped from him as he looked around the control room of the Tardis, imagining someone -- anyone -- there with him, trying to pretend that he wasn't lonely.

A lonely angel, Madame de Pompadour had called him. She'd been right about that, at least partially, he thought with a grimace. No one could really call him an angel, but he was certainly the loneliest man in the universe.

He'd been warned about that when he'd first become a Time Lord, of course -- even beforehand. He'd been told that it was a lonely life, that everyone he cared for would eventually leave him and that he had to prepare himself to be alone.

He hadn't been particularly good at doing that. He didn't want to be alone; he craved companionship, someone to share his thoughts with, someone to be there for him.

Not necessarily a lover; that hadn't become an important factor in his life until he'd had this body. But he'd always wanted someone there, someone to care for, someone who could care for him. That was yet another way that he differed from most of his race.

They wouldn't have had a hard time letting any chosen companions go; they'd simply look at it as people moving on, living their own lives. That was how he tried to view it, and even though he could see it in that way at times, it still felt like an abandonment.

It hadn't ended badly with most companions; he hadn't really wanted to let them go, but he'd understood that he had to. They couldn't give their lives up for him; he was grateful for the time he'd had with them, that they'd set part of their lives aside to be his companions.

Even though they had chosen to walk away from him, he understood why. But his hearts had broken a little when they'd left, even as he smiled and waved goodbye and wished them well. It had been yet another person turning their backs on him.

And then there had been the ones who hadn't wanted to go, who he'd had to give a gentle push to make them see that they had to find their own paths.

The ones like Sarah Jane, who'd been convinced that she was "in love" with him. Maybe she had been; he'd never been really sure of that. But he hadn't been in love with her, and he couldn't lie to her about that.

She hadn't been the only one; there had been companions who were convinced they wanted to be with him in a romantic way, when he'd known that wasn't what they were looking for at all. He'd recoiled from that, even though he'd tried to let them down easy.

He coudln't say that he'd been glad to see them go, but there had been a sense of relief when they were gone. One in particular, one who had been a child looking for a father who'd fixated on him in a romantic sense. That had been horribly awkward -- and repellant.

And there had been others, both companions who had wanted to go and some who'd wanted to stay but hadn't been able to. All of them had been his friends, all of them had gone through some exciting experiences with him and had been there when he'd needed them.

It all came down to endings. There would always be endings in the life of a Time Lord; he should learn to accept that, he told himself fiercely. Endings were inevitable; thanks to his long life span, he had to realize that no one would last in his life for very long.

As long as he decided to take humans for companions, he had to accept the fact that they'd never stay with him. That was just how it was, and he couldn't change things.

Humans were transitory beings, with lives that went by in the blink of an eye. And they were fickle creatures, even though they did have a loyalty in them that superseded that of many other races. He couldn't fault them in that way.

Well, at least most of the time. There were humans who had devious, black souls; there were humans who he'd reluctantly had to admit didn't have any redeeming qualities. But he always tried to be the eternal optimist, and believe that everyone was worth saving.

He could even feel that way about the Master. As evil as his black hearts were, there was still a part of the man that was worth trying to reach. They'd been friends at one time -- though that friendship had ended badly and had never been repaired.

Yet another ending in his life, he thought wryly, shaking his head. An ending that he hadn't wanted to come about, but one that had been inevitable. He'd long since given up the idea that it could be turned into a new beginning, that the Master could be redeemed.

That was never going to happen -- there was too much hatred in those hearts for him. He'd seen the hatred in those eyes, known for centuries that there was really no use in trying to forge a friendship with someone who had turned into a monster.

But still, he tried. Why? Why did he keep wasting his time? He sighed again, closing his eyes. He knew why he kept trying. It was that damned optimism again.

And it was because he hated to see things end, to fall apart around him and eventually leave him standing alone. It was because he craved companionship from some quarter, because he needed to have people by his side.

It was a weakness in him, one that he'd always admitted to having, albeit rather reluctantly. He didn't want to reveal that yes, he needed someone to stand by him. It was admitting that there was a chink in the armor he'd worn for such a long time.

That was an ending he'd have to accept -- though there was still a part of him that wanted to believe in a happy ending. Even if that was a fairy tale, a part of him would always cling to that hope. Without it, he would sink into melancholy.

He might be standing alone now, the Doctor told himself, taking a deep breath and getting to his feet. But he would make himself keep believing that when one door closed, another opened -- and that endings could always lead to new beginnings.

***