Title: I Am Not Here
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: gen
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: 100_situations
Prompt: 63, Disappear
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Tenth Doctor, unfortunately. Please do not sue.

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What would the world do if he suddenly disappeared?

There was something to be said for that idea, the Doctor told himself wryly, stretching his arms above his head and leaning back in the chair he was sitting in. There were times when he simply didn't want to be here, taking on the problems of the universe.

Sometimes it felt as though it could be so easy to simply vanish, to leave this world on its own and become nothing more than a vague memory in the minds of those who had known him. And there were times when that seemed like a viable solution to his problems.

But what would disappearing solve? the Doctor asked himself with a sigh. The only way to make all of the problems that nipped at his heels go away was to sink into true oblivion, a complete death that he wouldn't come back from. And he didn't want that.

He wasn't ready to give up on life yet, even though more and more lately, it seemed to have lost its savor for him. Maybe that was only because he was alone; he couldn't think of any other explanation as to why he should feel the way he did.

Loneliness was no excuse, he told himself firmly. He'd been alone before, and he probably would be again, before his time in this realm was over. He couldn't tell himself over and over again that being lonely made it all right for him to entertain thoughts of sipping out of this world.

That was defeatist attitude. But what could he do to combat it? He found himself slipping into melancholy more and more lately; he hated feeling that way, but it seemed as though that cloak of despondency was becoming easier to shrug into as time went by.

What would the world be like if he wasn't here? he wondered, closing his eyes and trying to picture the world as it could become if there was no Time Lord there to stop the rapaciousness of certain species that would try to enslave it -- or destroy it.

What he could picture in his mind's eye made him shudder. He mentally recoiled in horror at the thoughts of what could happen if he wasn't around; there were far too many species who would delight in his absence, and who would take full advantage of it.

But did that really matter? Wouldn't it happen sooner or later, anyway?

He sighed at the thought, feeling discouraged. What would happen when he finally did sink into that final demise? Would the world dissolve into chaos, all of the species vying for control of it ending up by destroying not only themselves, but the universe that they wanted to rule?

That could very likely happen. But the Doctor didn't want to think like that. He didn't want to believe that all of his efforts to keep the universe in some sort of order would have been in vain; he didn't want to think that his time here would have been wasted.

Of course, he was immortal; there might never be a day when he didn't exist, in some form or another. He might end up spending all of eternity protecting the universe as best he could; there was no way of knowing just what the future would hold for him.

No, that wasn't entirely true, the Doctor thought with a sigh. He could go forward in time, to see where his life might take him. He'd gone backwards for other people; there was really nothing other than his own conscience holding him back from seeing his own future.

Nothing but his conscience -- and the fact that he didn't particularly want to know what his future held. He didn't want to know what pitfalls to avoid; he was determined to go through life making his own mistakes, not carefully avoiding them for fear of feeling doubt or pain.

That would be the coward's way -- and he wasn't cowardly. He wasn't going to make an attempt to spare himself the pains of living; he wanted to experience all of life, the dark side as well as the light, the pain along with the joy. He wasn't fully living if he didn't feel it all.

How would it feel if he wasn't here? Would he know -- or even care -- that the world was now unprotected? He couldn't imagine not caring; there would never be a time when he didn't feel that looking out for the universe was a responsibility that fell to him.

That wasn't the way it was supposed to be, the Doctor thought with a sigh. Time Lords were only supposed to be travelers, observers, looking at the world but never interfering with it. He'd broken that one cardinal rule too many times for him to count over the centuries.

And he would keep breaking that rule, for as long as he had breath in his body. He knew that. There was no way that he could simply stand back and watch dispassionately as worlds were destroyed, races decimated, lives snuffed out like so many candles.

But if he wasn't here, that could conceivably happen. Would probably happen, even if he dared to turn his back on the world that he felt he had to protect for even a second. When had he started to think of himself as that sort of protector, watching over the universe?

He didn't know. But now that he did, he wanted to live up to his expectations.

What would this world be like if he wasn't here? It would be filled with chaos and destruction, he was sure, even more than ti already was. He didn't want to say that he was the only thing that stood between the universe and its destruction, but sometimes he felt as though he was.

But there were so many days lately when he felt as though he didn't want to be here. As though he could simply disappear, let all the cares of the universe fall from his shoulders, turn his back on it and live his life for himself -- something that he'd rarely been able to do.

He couldn't do that, and he knew it. If he wasn't here, he would feel guilty; this was his destiny, to feel that he was the protector of the universe. He couldn't simply turn his back on that destiny; he would be letting the world -- and himself -- down if he did.

Even though doing something like that might seem as though it constituted freedom for him, it really didn't. He would feel even more trapped within the decision that he'd made, forever knowing that in the end, he'd made the biggest mistake of his life by turning away from the world.

All right, so maybe he didn't want to be here all the time. Maybe he didn't always feel up to taking on the responsibilities he'd given to himself. But that didn't mean that he had a right to turn his back on those responsibilities, or that he could live with himself if he was less than he knew he could be.

Could he ever look at the world and really not want to be here? Could he ever say I am not here, and walk away from all of this? He knew before he'd even finished asking himself the question that the answer would always be an emphatic no.

Those four words would never be valid for him. He could never simply walk away, abandon everything that he'd worked so hard to protect over the centuries. He would always be a part of this, no matter how much he might think that he wanted to leave it all behind.

Even if he wasn't here, the world would go on -- but he was sure that it wouldn't progress in the way that it did now. The universe needed a protector, someone to watch out for it, to make sure that it ran smoothly. Someone who cared. Someone who would always be here.

And he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the someone was himself.

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