Title: Give It Up
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: gen
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG
Table: sound_of_drums
Prompt: 18, I Quit
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.

***

How many time had he thought that he wanted to give up being a Time Lord?

The Doctor smiled to himself as he crossed his arms behind his head and looked up at the ceiling of the Tardis' control room. If he had a pound for every time he'd said that he wanted to turn his back on this life, he'd be a rich man.

Not that money mattered to him, he thought with a wry smile. He'd never had it, not even when he was a child living on his home planet. Even among Gallifreyans, his family hadn't been what anyone would call "well to do."

But he'd always gotten by. And he'd always had a clear idea in his mind of what he wanted to do with his life, what he wanted to be.

Would he really be able to give that up, even when he shouted in frustration that he couldn't live this life any longer, that he'd had to make too many sacrifices for it already? It would be interesting to see if he could really follow through on that idea.

He almost snorted as the thought came into his head. Giving up what he was would be impossible. There was no more High Council of Gallifrey to strip his title away, for one thing. No, he was a Time Lord for the rest of his life.

Would it be possible to walk away from the life he'd known for nearly as long as he could remember? He didn't think so. He might feel that he wanted to at times, but that would mean such a change in his life that he didn't think he could deal with it.

After all, if he wasn't a Time Lord -- what was he?

Just a man. A Gallfireyan, a man with no home, a man whose people no longer existed. The last of his kind -- not only the last Time Lord, but the last of his race. A man without a planet, a man with no one else in the universe like him.

There would be not only changes to his life, but catastrophes that he didn't think anyone would be prepared to deal with -- least of all himself.

For one thing, he wouldn't be able to travel in the Tardis any more, would he? If he renounced what he was, walked away from his Time Lord responsibilities, then the Tardis might very well break her bond with him.

He shuddered at the thought, a cry almost rising to his lips before he squelched it. Being without that bond would be a devastation that he didn't want to even consider. It had always been there -- well, almost always, for as long as he'd been what he was.

There had been a time when he hadn't been bonded with his ship, of course. That had only happened after he'd become a Time Lord -- but he could barely remember his childhood and what it had been like not to be as he was now.

He could remember flashes of that life, incidents that had taken place as though they were burned into his mind's eye. He could even remember how he'd felt at important times in his life -- but the small, everyday memories had disappeared.

Would he even have that kind of capacity for memory if he renounced what he was? That would be troubling, not to be able to remember Gallifrey, his childhood, or possibly not even things that had happened in his past bodies.

Another thought occurred to him, a thought that made him gasp, his eyes widening in horror.

If he turned his back on being a Time Lord, renounced all of the responsibilities, everything that he'd vowed to take on that made him what he was -- did that mean that he would give up his right to have more bodies, more time to live?

That was a thought that he didn't want to entertain. Of course he didn't want to regenerate -- he was fond of the body that he was in now, and he wanted to keep it for as long as he possibly could. But he didn't want to give up the lifetimes that he had left.

Would he have the strength to push those lives away from him if it came down to making a choice like that? Could he actually do it? He didn't think so.

The Doctor sighed, shaking his head. Of course he couldn't. No matter how many times he might tell himself that he'd taken on too much, that the responsibilities weighed him down and took away his chance to live a "real" life -- he'd never turn his back on this.

He'd always wanted to be a Time Lord. He might not have known what would be required of him when he was a child, but he'd still wanted this. He'd never give it up, not unless he was forced to it, and then he would fight to the end not to relinquish it.

There were times when a life without all of the memories, all of the responsibilities, all of the danger that seemed to follow him looked attractive. There was a siren's lure about that life, beckoning him seductively, whispering that it was what he really wanted.

But it wasn't. Not if he was brutally honest with himself.

Yes, he'd made sacrifices. But he'd chosen them, knowing full well that he could never be what he was and lead the kind of life that most people on most planets took for granted. He'd given that up, for the good of the world.

It was a decision he'd made long ago, and he hadn't made it lightly. He'd never walk away -- no matter what the cost to him. The cost to the rest of the unvierse would be too high -- and the needs of the many far outweighed the needs and desires of one lonely Time Lord.

Sighing softly, he sat up, running a hand over his face and blinking. It was time to stop thinking of what might have been, and to concentrate on what was.

Getting to his feet, he went to the console, looking down at it and frowning. Where would the two of them go next? He wasn't sure, but there were plenty of places out there that were probably calling his name -- maybe more literally than figuratively.

Those places would always be there. And he would help them when they needed it -- as a Time Lord had always been meant to do.

***