Title: First Day of My Life
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Ten.5
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: R
Table: 4
Prompt: 53, Decisions
Author's Note: Spoilers for Journey's End
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 lay there with his human counterpart in his arms for quite a long time, trying to formulate an answer to the question he'd hoped he wouldn't have to answer. What could he say, when he wasn't sure of the answer himself? There were so many reasons against them being with each other -- but they weren't reasons he wanted to acknowledge.Why couldn't they be together? that small voice in the back of his mind argued. They could leave here, take the Tardis somewhere and spend time alone with each other. He would say that they could "get to know each other better" -- but considering that this man was a part of him, they had no need to do that, he told himself wryly.
His human self was just as quiet as he was, no doubt thinking about their situation. Finally, he heaved a sigh, resting his forehead against the Doctor's chest. "You don't think this will work, do you?" he asked, his voice barely audible even in the stillness of the room.
The note of wistfulness in his voice twisted at the Doctor's hearts; he so desperately wanted to say yes, to try his best to convince them both that they could have a future. But such a thing wasn't possible. He had to tell himself that over and over again, even though he was starting to feel that he didn't believe it any longer.
After all, why shouldn't they take their chances? What did it matter what others might think of them? Who cared what anyone else would say? This wasn't about others; it was about the two of them, what they both wanted and needed. And he was beginning to feel that he wanted -- and most definitely needed -- his human counterpart in a way that he'd never needed anyone.
Or was that just him being selfish, and wanting what he couldn't have? The Doctor wasn't sure, and he didn't want to voice that thought to his human self. But he couldn't help thinking that the other man was already at least marginally aware of what he thought and felt -- because they were literally the same person.
He managed to find his voice after what felt like a very long time, speaking slowly, wanting to say exactly what was in his mind -- and in his hearts. "I .... I honestly don't know." It was all he could think of to say, the only thing that was true to his inner feelings.
The human Doctor sat up slightly, propping his chin on the Doctor's chest and gazing at his lover. "I believe that I've just found one of the major differences between the two of us. I can't read your thoughts -- you'll have to tell me aloud what you're thinking."
The Doctor managed a slight smile, wishing that he could marshal his whirling thoughts into a coherent expression and be able to articulate it to this man. He avoided the other Doctor's eyes, not wanting him to read the uncertainty in his gaze. But the human Doctor reached out, grasping his chin, forcing their gazes to meet.
"There are so many things against us," his human self whispered, his voice sounding choked and a little trembly. "But we can overcome them. I'm sure we can. If this is what you want -- and I think it is, if you want it even half as badly as I do -- then we can make it work."
The Doctor closed his eyes, swallowing hard. "Yes, I want this. I want it so badly that I can almost taste it," he murmured, feeling his way carefully and hoping that his words would make sense. "But exactly how do we make this work? How do we reconcile everyone we know to the situation? They .... wouldn't understand, to say the least."
"Then they're no real friends, and no one that we need to know," his human self said firmly, sitting up beside him. "If they can't accept how we feel about each other, then they don't need to be a part of our lives."
"But they do," the Doctor whispered, swallowing again, wishing that the lump in his throat would go away. "They're my friends .... our friends. We can't just tell them to get out of our lives simply because they can't accept our feelings." He didn't want to say that he needed those friends, that he didn't want to lose them.
"They're more important," the other Doctor said, his voice still trembling, tracing one long, slender finger down the Doctor's arm. He didn't raise his gaze, didn't look the Doctor in the eye. "What they think is more important than how you -- and I -- feel, is that it?"
"No, of course not." He felt miserable, feeling as though he was betraying not only his own desires, but the simple needs of the man beside him. How could that be? They were the same person, the same thoughts, the same blood. The other half of himself. The idea was making his head spin in confusion. It was all too much.
He didn't want to puzzle it out, didn't want to think about it. And he didn't want to deny himself, or this man -- who might be another version of himself, but was enough of his own person to have his own needs and desires aside from the Doctor's. He had a right to be taken into consideration with any decision the Doctor made.
He couldn't. There were others to think about besides himself and what he wanted; in this case, what he wanted wasn't the most important thing. He'd had to make sacrifices before, but this one was probably the most painful that he'd ever had to deal with. It was a sacrifice that he wasn't willing to make, but one that he had no choice about.
"Besides," he forced himself to say, hating every word, "there's another reason that you can't stay with me. A rather big one."
"What would that be?" The other Doctor looked puzzled, a frown furrowing his brow, as though he couldn't imagine what in the word the Doctor was talking about.
He sat up, reaching out to stroke his fingertips over the curve of the human Doctor's cheekbone before taking both of the other man's hands in his. "There's someone who expects you to be with her, in the same way that you're with me now," he said gently. "Someone who thinks she feels for you in the same way that I do -- even though I think she's mistaken."
The other Doctor still looked puzzled for a few moments, then recognition began to dawn on his features. His mouth twisted in a grimace, then he shook his head, holding up his hands as though to push the idea away. "No! That isn't going to happen. I don't love her. And I know she doesn't love me. Not like that. She's looking for a daddy figure, not a lover."
"She doesn't know that," the Doctor whispered, feeling tears well up in his eyes. "She thinks she loves you and wants to be with you. She doesn't understand that romantic love isn't what she feels for you at all. And .... you're human. You would be able to age and die with her. It would be what she's always wanted."
"What, she's always wanted me to die?" the other Doctor asked incredulously, still shaking his head. "No. It's out of the question. It isn't going to happen. I would rather kill myself here and now than condemn myself to a lifetime -- even a short human lifespan -- spent with her. Death would be infinitely preferable."
The Doctor sighed, realizing that he'd made a poor choice of words. "No, of course not. I meant that she's always wanted me to be human. It's me who she's never accepted, you see. She thinks she's in love -- but real love is accepting people as they are, not forcing them to be what you want them to be. She's a shallow child. She doesn't understand what love is."
"And you want me to be with .... that?" His human half's mouth twisted again, a few tears streaking down his cheeks. "You would condemn me to a life with that, knowing that I don't love her and never will, and that I'll spend all my human life wanting to be with you? You've been cruel in the past, Doctor, but not to that extent."
He moved towards the other man, taking the human Doctor into his arms. The other man leaned against him, hot, scalding tears falling onto his skin, making his own eyes water and nearly overflow. Those arms were around him, but not holding him safe this time; they were clinging, entreating, begging him not to let go, not to abandon his other half to a life he didn't want.
His human self was right. He couldn't do it, the Doctor thought. He couldn't sentence this man to a life with someone he didn't love, and keep the two of them apart forever. No matter what anyone else thought, that wasn't right. It might make other people happy -- but the two of them would be miserable. He didn't want to be responsible for that.
He'd spent enough time being unhappy. It was time that he grabbed onto his chance at happiness with both hands, and didn't let go. This time, he was going to take what he wanted.
"No. I don't," he whispered, one arm tightening around his other half's waist as his free hand stroked through the soft hair. The human Doctor was sobbing in his arms, unable to speak, the tears flowing freely now. He'd never been good at comforting anyone, the Doctor thought, but he owed it to this man to give him what comfort he could.
His human self only had a limited life span, the Doctor told himself, holding the other man more tightly against him. He had a responsibility to this man -- this being who he'd literally given life. He wanted to make him happy -- and was it so wrong to make himself happy in the process? He didn't think so.
"Shhhh," he soothed, closing his eyes and resting his cheek against the other Doctor's hair. This was an embrace he wanted to stay in for the rest of his days; he couldn't let this man simply walk away from him, into a life where he would more than likely never see him again. No. For once, he was going to do what was right for him.
This other side of him was human. One heart, one life. There was a finite time that they could be together; his human self would age and die, and eventually leave him alone, brokenhearted at losing yet one more person he had loved. But did that matter, in the long run? At least he would be able to love this man, during whatever time they were granted.
Loving was worth the inevitable pain that would come later. In the end, it was all that mattered. And he wasn't going to deny himself the opportunity.
The Doctor kept his arms around his human self for what felt like a very long time, waiting patiently for the tears to stop. When he sensed that they were done, he lifted the other Doctor's face to his, brushing away the tears and pressing soft lips to the other man's mouth, murmuring against that soft skin.
"I need to get into the console room. I have to set the Tardis' controls for somewhere .... somewhere that we can't be found for a while. Somewhere to spend a bit of time alone, until this has all blown over a bit."
The human Doctor looked up at him, eyes wide with amazement. "D-do you mean that?" he whispered, his arms tightening around the Doctor. The Time Lord had to smile at the hope in his other half's voice, nodding and tracing his lover's heart-shaped upper lip with a gentle finger.
"Yes, I do," he said softly, disentangling himself from the other man's embrace and standing up, holding out a hand to the other Doctor. "I've never meant anything so much in my life. In all my lives, actually."
His human self sat staring up at him for a moment, as though he was unsure of whether or not he should believe the Doctor's words. Hesitantly, he reached out, placing his hand in the Doctor's and letting himself be drawn to his feet beside the other man. His eyes searched his lover's face, still looking for some sign that this wasn't actually happening.
"This is real, isn't it?" he breathed. "You mean it."
"Yes, I mean it," he answered, leading the human Doctor from their bedroom down the hallway and into the console room. He didn't care that they were both stark naked; after all, this was his ship, wasn't it? What did it matter if he chose to run around unclothed? This was his private place, his domain. He could do what he wanted.
Starting now, he told himself, purposefully leaning over the console and punching in a few coordinates. This was the first day of the rest of his life.
The rest of his life with someone he loved. Someone who wasn't going to be taken away from him for a long time to come. He'd made his decision -- and he was sure that it would prove to be the right one for them both. He'd have someone he loved by his side, and that, for him, was the most precious thing that life could give him.
Besides, it was time he took on a new companion. He didn't want to go back to being lonely, feeling empty, abandoned. And who better to be his companion than .... himself?
The two men turned towards each other as the familiar feeling of displacement swept over them, holding each other with all the conviction of the choice they'd just made. Whatever happened, the Doctor thought, they would face it together -- and take whatever time they were given day by day.
***
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