Title: Tell Me True
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Ten.5
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: 5, 12_stories
Prompt: 11, Truth
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's human clone rested his elbows on the console of the Tardis, staring ahead of him without really seeing what was in his line of vision. He had too many other things on his mind to take much notice of his surroundings at the moment.

He'd had worry nagging at the back of his mind for the past few days; a worry that wouldn't go away, no matter how much he tried to ignore it. It had only gotten more persistent with time, growing larger and more menacing until it almost consumed his thoughts.

He shouldn't worry like this. He'd tried to tell himself that over and over again; there was no reason for him to be so apprehensive about what the future would hold. The Doctor wasn't going to change his mind about them being together.

But that nagging worry preyed on him; he couldn't banish it from his mind, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, how ruthlessly he attempted to push it down. He couldn't slam the door to that corner of his mind that harbored doubts about his future.

What if he didn't know the Time Lord as well as he thought he did? Even though they were literally cut from the same cloth, he couldn't read the other man's mind. He couldn't know everything that went on in that Gallifreyan brain.

Oh, yes, he was part of the Doctor, in a way that no one else could ever be. But the fact remained that he was human -- and that put up a barrier between the two of them.

If he was honest with himself, that wasn't the only thing that had been bothering him. He couldn't get it out of his head that the Doctor didn't really want him around -- that the Time Lord might regret his hasty action in spiriting him away from Earth.

He knew that the Doctor hadn't wanted to give him up -- but was that because the other man had some kind of feeling for him that went beyond a mere fascination with something new, or was it only because he felt some kind of misguided responsibility?

He couldn't help thinking that the Doctor might not really want him here -- and that worry had worked itself into his thoughts so completely that it was constantly on his mind, making him feel nervous and jumpy when he was around the Time Lord.

What was he going to do if the Doctor came to him and told him that they'd made a mistake, that him being here wasn't what the Time Lord wanted? He'd have to bow to that request; he had no right to force himself on the Doctor.

It didn't matter that he'd literally sprung from the other man, that the Doctor was responsibile for his very existence. He didn't want to force himself on someone who really didn't want him around; that wouldn't be fair to either of them.

That wasn't a life he wanted to live -- and yet he was terrified to think of what would happen to him and where he could end up if he was turned away from sharing the Doctor's life.

The Time Lord wouldn't do that. He had to keep assuring himself of that over and over again -- but how could he know that it was true? Even now, the Doctor could be reconsidering his actions in bringing him along, wishing that he hadn't done so.

How could he discern what the Doctor felt? He couldn't think of any way to do that but to ask the other man point-blank how he felt -- and that was something that he couldn't bring himself to do. Truth be told, he was too scared to do it.

He shouldn't feel as though he had to afraid of anything concerning the Doctor, he told himself with a sigh as he drummed his fingers on the Tardis' console. It was ridiculous to think that the Time Lord would want anything but the best possible life for him.

For both of them, really. He'd already said that he thought the best thing was for them to be with each other. But what if he changed his mind? What if he realized this was a mistake? What if he thought better of having his clone here?

He was going over and over the same things in his mind, his thoughts buzzing around in circles and going nowhere. He sighed again, pushing himself away from the console and starting to pace around the control room, his hands clasped behind his back.

The only way to get to the truth behind the Doctor's feelings would be to ask him just how he felt about the situation they'd been thrust into. He had no other choice.

And if he didn't like what he heard .... well, then he'd have to learn to live with it. A part of him knew that the Doctor would never just abandon him, but there was always that little voice of dissent in the back of his mind insisting that things weren't always as they seemed.

"Why are you trying to pace a hole through the floor of the Tardis, hmmm?"

His head jerked towards the corridor that led into the control room; the Doctor was standing there, leaning against the wall with a smile on his features. "I-I was just .... thinking," the human Doctor stammered, not quite knowing what to say.

"Thinking about what?" the Doctor asked, his voice soft, his expression betraying his curiosity. "It doesn't look like those thoughts could have been very pleasant, judging from that scowl. I've never seen myself look so angry."

He didn't have an answer for that; he hadn't even realized that he was scowling until the Time Lord had pointed it out. Stopping in his tracks, he took a deep breath, feeling that it was now or never; he had to ask the Doctor how he felt. He couldn't keep wondering and worrying.

"Doctor ...." he began, his voice unsure and hesitant. "How do you feel about me being here? I want the truth, not something designed to spare my feelings."

The Doctor looked startled; he obviously hadn't expected to be questioned about something like this. But to his credit, he didn't immediately start to expostulate; instead, he looked thoughtful, seeming to muse over the question in his mind before he answered.

"The truth about how I feel?" he finally said, his dark eyes meeting his clone's unwavering gaze. "I think you should already know that. You should have it from the moment that I told you I wanted you with me and whisked you away from Earth."

"But I don't!" his clone protested, spreading his hands in front of him. "I can't read your mind in the same way that you can read mind. I'm a part of you, I know, but .... I'm human. I don't have your abilities. I can't see into your hearts."

The Doctor took a few steps forward, until he was standing in front of the other man. "Yes, you can," he whispered, reaching out to lay a hand against his human counterpart's cheek. "All you have to do is examine your own feelings, and you'll know mine."

He was taken aback by the Time Lord's words; he hadn't thought they were so much alike that feelings could be the same. Was that what the Doctor meant? Somehow, he didn't think so; their emotions had to be much more complicated than that.

"I believe you want to stay with me," the Doctor said softly, his dark eyes never leaving his clone's face. "I want you here just as much as you want to be here. And that's the truth."

The human Doctor couldn't take his eyes away from the Time Lord's face; had he ever worn such a tender expression since he'd been in this body? He could remember all the times he'd seen that face; memories that weren't his own, but were somehow a part of him.

The Doctor had to be telling the truth about how he felt. No one could look at another person like that and be insincere. All he could read in those fathomless eyes was warmth and affection; an affection that he wanted to hold onto for dear life.

Wordlessly, he nodded, closing his eyes and moving a hesitant step closer to the other man. The Doctor's arms slid around him, and he went into that embrace willingly, resting his forehead against the Time Lord's shoulder.

He could feel all of his worries slipping away from him. This was where he was meant to be, here with the Doctor. There was nowhere else that he could even imagine himself being.

And there was no place that he would rather be. The Doctor must feel that way, too; this embrace wouldn't have come so readily if the other man wasn't experiencing the same emotions that he was. The Doctor wanted him here. He should never have doubted that fact.

There was no other place in the galaxy that he could possibly belong. And at that moment, he was more sure of that than he'd ever thought he could be.

***