Title: Keeping the Faith
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: gen
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG
Table: 50ficlets
Prompt: 23, Faith
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.

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It had been so long since he'd had much faith in anything.

The Doctor sighed, leaning back against the door of the Tardis and looking around him. He was in such a beautiful place, a part of Earth that he rarely ever came to unless he felt that he needed peace of mind, a place where he could think clearly.

He wasn't even sure where it was; he only knew that it was deserted, unspoiled, a place that humans had barely touched. It was full of sun and shade, nothing around but the natural beauty of fields, trees and sky, a river flowing nearby.

Of course, humans had been here. The fields around him were well-kept, instead of running wild; the atmosphere was one of controlled calm. There was none of the wildness of nature taking over. But it was a peaceful, quiet place, even with some intrusion at times.

Fortunately for him, this wasn't one of those times. There was no one around; the Doctor was sure that he was quite alone.

And that was how he wanted to be at the moment. He needed to have some time to himself, though that wasn't something he wished for often. Usually, he wanted to be around people; he had a tendency to prefer bustling cities to this calm quiet.

What had brought him here, anyway? Humans would call it a "crisis of faith," though he didn't use that phrase in just the same way that they did. He didn't believe in some entity in the sky; he didn't have the sort of faith that they did.

No, his faith was placed in the universe, in the hope that the power of good would have some effect on it. It wasn't a question of religious beliefs, for he personally had none -- it was a question of somehow know that his efforts made a difference.

Though sometimes, he had to wonder if they did. The Doctor leaned his back against the Tardis' door, closing his eyes a moment before opening them to stare up at the blueness of the sky above him. It was so bright that he could almost feel a slight burn at the edges of his vision.

So different from Gallifrey. So different from many other planets he'd been on. But yet, this was the planet that he expended so much time and energy to keep safe.

He really had no idea why that was so. It wasn't as though humans knew who he was and what he did, at least not most of them; he would never be appreciated, even though he was sure that his efforts to keep this world protected wouldn't be in vain.

So why did he feel as though his reasons for becoming a Time Lord were slipping away from him? He had wanted to do some good in the world, to help other galaxies, to keep people safe. And those good intentions seemed hazy now, abstract in his mind.

That had always been the faith that he'd clung to -- the idea that being a Time Lord would ultimately help the world. It didn't matter if he was acknowledged or remembered; all that mattered was that he knew in his hearts that he'd made a difference.

Lately, he'd wanted that acknowledgement of his deeds. The fact that he was going to die at some point, once he had no more bodies left to regenerate into, with all of his efforts to help the galaxy unknown by most, was depressing in the extreme.

The faith that he'd had in the purity of his intentions was moving away from him, slipping through his fingers no matter how hard he tried to keep a firm grasp on it.

He'd had other kinds of faith in the past, too -- faith that was gone for good. He'd had faith in love, in relationships. The Doctor's lips twisted in a wry smile as he shook his head, pushing those memories firmly away from him.

Better not to think of his disappointments in that area. Jack and what they'd shared belonged in the past, as past that he couldn't reclaim. And that sort of faith was for fools, he told himself firmly. Better that he'd discovered it wasn't worth putting his trust in.

He had enough problems dealing with the fact that he'd lost his belief in what he was doing, his place in the world. He had no idea how to get that faith back -- but he would hang onto it for as long as he could, and hope that it wouldn't completely desert him.

That faith was all that he had left to him. He had no home left in the universe, no people to go back to. He had to believe that everything he'd done, all the decisions he'd made, had done some good for the world. If he didn't keep that faith, then it had all been in vain.

The Doctor closed his eyes again, letting the warmth of the sun beat down on his face. Earth was so different from the home he'd lost, but it was the closest thing he had to a home now. And he wasn't going to stop trying to keep this planet safe.

If he wanted to be able to continue to do what he'd been intended to do, he had to hold on to his faith in himself. Without that, he wasn't worthy of being what he was.

He would hold on to that faith as long as he could, even when it seemed that he was reaching out for something ephemeral that he couldn't keep a firm grasp on. Keeping the faith might not be easy -- but it was all he had, and he was determined not to let it go.

***