Title: Everything I Need
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Jethro Cane
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: writers_choice
Prompt: #415, Fate
Author's Note: Spoilers for the Doctor Who episode "Midnight".
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 Jethro Cane. Please do not sue.


Jethro leaned back against the pillows, looking around him at the comfortable bedroom on the Tardis that he shared with the Doctor. Even after more than a year had passed since he had found the Time Lord again, it still seemed incredible to him that he was here.

When he had gone back to Midnight looking for the Doctor after their first fateful meeting on board that train, he hadn't really thought that he would find the other man. He had almost given up hope of ever seeing the Doctor again, though a spark of hope still burned within him.

When they had first met, Jethro had felt drawn towards the Doctor in ways that he couldn't explain; if he had been asked just why he was so attracted to the tall, thin, mysterious man in their midst, he would simply have shrugged helplessly and not said anything.

But in the time between first meeting the Doctor and finding him again, Jethro hadn't been able to get that man off of his mind. The Doctor had always been there in the background, as though he was somehow guiding Jethro's thoughts and actions, overseeing everything he did.

When he'd finally had the courage to break away from his parents, to tell them that he wasn't going to lead the life they had tried to plan out for him -- that he wasn't going to be their obedient little automaton any more -- the Doctor had been first and foremost in his mind.

He had known from that day on that he had to find the man who had so captivated him on that trip across Midnight. No matter how long it took or what he had to to, he would track the Doctor down. He didn't care how long it took, or what he might to deal with along the way.

The time that he'd spent searching for the Doctor had seemed never-ending -- until the day when he had inadvertently bumped into the Time Lord on the street. On Midnight, of all places. It was as though fate had somehow pushed them back together.

Had that been the case? Jethro mused, looking down at the Doctor. The Time Lord was asleep, his head pillowed on Jethro's shoulder; he didn't want to wake his lover, either with movement or with his somewhat agitated thoughts. The Doctor needed his rest.

Was it fate that had brought them back together? Jethro couldn't help but think that it was; after all of his fruitless searching for the man who had filled his dreams, he had almost given up, until that fateful day on the street in the place they'd first met.

When he had first looked up and recognized the man he'd bumped into, his heart had seemed to jerk in his chest, then to stop beating entirely. He had been sure that he was going to faint -- and for just a moment, he'd thought that he might have died on the spot.

Somehow, the Doctor hadn't seemed quite real. Jethro could have sworn that he was some sort of angel, sent down to him from a heaven that he'd never believed in. A guiding star, sent to tell him that he had strayed from the path his life was supposed to take.

He had been more than prepared to argue with that angel, to say in no uncertain terms that he knew the Doctor was his future, and that he wasn't going to rest until he'd found the Time Lord again. It hadn't hit him right away that he was face-to-face with his final destination.

Had fate decided that they belonged together even before they had met? Jethro was almost sure of it; they had struck sparks from that first moment their eyes had met, even though he had been too young and inexperienced to realize it then.

If he had known .... he sighed softly, running a hand through the Doctor's hair. He wouldn't have been able to do anything about it at the time, since he'd been with his parents. And unfortunately, he'd still been a bit under their thumbs at the time.

He was still ashamed of the way he had acted when his father had tried to force him to help them throw the Doctor from the train; he'd been paralyzed, caught between what he knew was right, and feeling that he had to obey his parents.

Of course, he'd done the right thing and hadn't helped -- but for a moment, just a moment, he had almost moved forward to help his father pull the Doctor towards the door. He had been programmed since he was a child to do what his parents told him to do, and he'd almost given in to that.

What if he'd done that? The thought of it made Jethro's blood run cold; what would he have done with the rest of his life if he'd helped his father and those other people kill the Doctor? He would have thrown away the one thing in his life that had ever truly mattered to him.

Without the Doctor, he would have been nothing but his parents' puppet; he would have ended up living a life that he hated and wanted nothing more than to get away from. He would have been forced to hide his empathic gift, to live a lie for his entire life.

He couldn't have forced himself to live like that. He might have done it for a few years, maybe even for a few decades. But Jethro knew without a shadow of a doubt that at some point, he would have ended up by taking his own life. It would have been inevitable.

And how would his parents have felt about that, if they had still been around? They'd probably have been relieved, the young man thought bitterly. They had never been able to accept him as he was; they had always wanted to change him to fit what they thought he should be.

That life would have killed him in the end, Jethro thought. And there would have been no one to sincerely mourn him; the Doctor would never have known him, and his parents would have been glad to see the last of a son who had never fit into their lives in the way they'd wanted.

Why did it seem that fate had tried to push him towards that horrible life, and he'd had to struggle to get away from it? But then, when he'd finally managed to break away from his parents' control, fate had guided him to the Doctor, delivering him into the Time Lord's arms.

Fate seemed to have played such a large part in everything that had happened between the time he'd met the Doctor and the time they'd been reunited, Jethro mused. For the first time in his life, he'd been his own person, defied his parents, and started to make his own life.

He could never have done that if fate hadn't pointed him in the Doctor's direction. He would never have been strong enough -- or brave enough -- to go against all that he'd been taught, everything that people had been telling him ever since he was a small child.

He'd had it drummed into him that he had to listen to what his parents said, that they knew best. He had always been chastised for being different, for letting those differences show -- and he'd always, always been told that being different wasn't something to be proud of.

Fate had shown him that those attitudes were wrong when he'd met the Doctor. He'd learned that being different wasn't something to hide, or to run away from, but to take pride in. And from that moment on, when he'd left that train for the last time, he'd tried to live his life by that standard.

No longer would his parents be able to control his life. He'd made up his mind from the moment that he had seen the Doctor turn his back and walk away that he was going to be a man worthy of being with the Time Lord -- no matter what he might have to do to achieve that goal.

Well, he'd done it, he told himself. He was here, with the Doctor. He was the Time Lord's lover, the man who the Doctor loved. He had all that he wanted, right here in his arms. He would never have to look in any other place for fulfillment; he had everything he could possibly need.

Fate had brought him to just the place he needed to be when she had brought him back to the Doctor. And it seemed that this was where the Time Lord needed to be, as well. The two of them complemented each other, in the best possible ways.

Where would fate take them from here? There was no way for either of them to know that; of course, the Doctor could choose to look into the future, but Jethro didn't want him to do that. It would spoil the surprise of whatever they had to look forward to.

Meeting the Doctor again -- especially on the same planet that they'd first encountered each other -- hadn't just been fate. There had been a larger design to their coming together, a plan that Jethro hadn't been able to fathom yet. But he would.

Whatever fate had in store for them, he was ready for it. They hadn't done too badly so far since they'd been together, Jethro told himself with a smile. And if they were lucky, then fate wouldn't throw more at them than they were ready to handle.