Title: This Is How I Disappear
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Arthur Eddington
Fandom: Doctor Who/Einstein and Eddington
Rating: R
Table: Buffet 1, fc_smorgasbord
Prompt: 20, Disappear
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 Arthur Eddington. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor looked up from where he sat under the shade of a tree as Arthur approached him, his eyes moving over the other man appreciatively. He found it hard not to stare; his gaze was always drawn in Arthur's direction whenever he was near.

He raised one thin hand, a small smile on his lips, hoping that Arthur would sit down and talk to him. There was a speculative expression on the other man's face; he looked as though he had something he wanted to say, and the Doctor was certainly ready to listen if he did.

"I wondered where you were," Arthur told him as he sat down next to the Time Lord, sounding relieved. "When I couldn't find you in the house, I thought you might have left -- but you wouldn't do that. You'd leave some kind of message if you were called away."

His voice held an edge of fear, a tone that almost made the words a question rather than a statement. The Doctor nodded, hoping that he could reassure Arthur that he wasn't just going to leave without a trace or some kind of explanation.

"If I had to leave, I'd let you know, even if it was sudden," the Doctor assured him, hoping that his words would prove to be true. He didn't expect any crucial summons to come from anyone, but he couldn't be sure of that. If he got a message on the psychic paper, he'd have to go.

Of course, he could just ignore that summons -- or leave and come back so quickly that Arthur might never know he'd been gone. He could try to come back within a few moments of the time he'd departed, though he'd learned from experience that didn't always work out as he planned.

"I don't want you to disappear," Arthur murmured, looking down at the ground. His long fingers wound through a few blades of grass, tugging at them until he'd pulled them up, then flinging them away from him with a nervous gesture.

"I wouldn't just disappear out of your life, Arthur," the Doctor said softly, wanting to reach out and take the other man's hand but not daring to do so yet. Was it too soon for him to reach out to Arthur in that way? He needed to gauge the other man's mood before he could be sure.

After all, Arthur had no idea that the Doctor knew some rather intimate details about him. He couldn't possibly know that his love for John Smith was common knowledge to the Doctor -- or that John hadn't really left him, at least not in spirit.

"So many people have," Arthur whispered, looking away from the Doctor and focusing his gaze on the last rays of the setting sun streaking across the sky. "William. And then John. I .... I don't think I could deal with another person I care about disappearing."

The Doctor couldn't stop himself from reaching out to take Arthur's hand, wrapping long, slender fingers around the other man's and gripping them tightly. He had no intention of disappearing, but he could understand why Arthur would be afraid of him doing just that.

Did Arthur telling him this mean that the man sitting beside him was tacitly admitting that there were feelings involved -- feeling other than friendship? Or was he merely saying that after losing the two men who had meant the most to him, he didn't want to lose a friend as well?

He would have to tread carefully with his questions, the Doctor told himself, taking a deep breath and trying to think of how best to phrase what he wanted to say. He couldn't let Arthur know that he himself had feelings for the other man. Not now. Not yet.

"I can assure you that I have no plans to go anywhere," the Doctor said, his tone soft, the words coming out on a husky note. His feelings were coming through in his voice; he couldn't stop them, though he doubted that Arthur would recognize them for what they were.

"Neither did William or John," Arthur said, swallowing audibly. "William didn't really want to go to war .... he did it because he felt it was the 'right' thing to do, not because he felt some burning desire for it. And he died for something he didn't want to be involved in."

The Doctor could feel a lump forming in his throat; the sadness in Arthur's words, the tone of his voice, was enough to make tears come to his eyes. He squeezed the other man's hand gently, silently encouraging him to go on.

"John ...." Arthur's voice broke on the name; he looked down at their clasped hands for several long moments before he spoke again. "I sent John away. He didn't want to go, but I told him that he should go to London and that I would be there soon. I sent him to his death."

"Arthur, it wasn't your fault," the Doctor whispered, blinking to push back the imminent threat of tears. He wanted so badly to tell Arthur that John wasn't lost to him forever, that a part of him still lived. "You couldn't have known what would happen."

"He went back to London -- and I never saw him again," Arthur choked out, as though he hadn't heard the Doctor's words. "He disappeared, as if we'd never loved each other. It was like I dreamed every moment that we had together, like none of it ever existed."

The Doctor shook his head, moving closer to Arthur. He'd never wanted to take anyone in his arms and comfort them as much as he did now; all he wanted to do was hold Arthur, to make him realize that he wasn't responsible for the loss of the man he'd loved.

"It's as though his existence was completely erased," Arthur whispered, tears starting to streak slowly down his face. "No one else seems to even remember him besides Winnie. No one can remember his face, or his name. It's like he .... never was."

"Arthur, that's not true," the Doctor told him, throwing caution to the winds and wrapping his arms around the other man, drawing Arthur into his embrace. "Maybe the people around you don't remember him, but there are others that do. I certainly do."

He probably shouldn't have said that, the Time Lord told himself ruefully as soon as the words were out of his mouth. But he'd had to; he had to let Arthur know that his John wasn't forgotten, that what had existed between them hadn't been some hazy dream, but real and solid.

Arthur leaned against him, raising a hand to wipe away his tears. He didn't pull away, as the Doctor had expected him to do; instead, he leaned into that embrace, as though he took comfort from the Time Lord's touch, his closeness.

"You're so much like him," Arthur whispered, pulling back slightly to look at the Doctor. "You have his eyes, his mouth ...." His voice trailed off as his fingertips brushed across the Doctor's lips. "You could be his twin. You even sound like him."

He stopped speaking, taking a deep breath and looking down, his hand dropping to his lap. "But you aren't him. I have to constantly remind myself of that. John is gone. I can't replace him with anyone else. As much as I want you to be him -- you aren't."

And this is where I should disappear, the Doctor said to himself, feeling something inside him stretch to the breaking point at Arthur's words. I can't be who he needs me to be. I can't be John Smith. That man is a part of me, but Arthur is right. I'm not him.

But even as the thought crystallized in his mind, he knew that he couldn't leave. There were too many unresolved emotions roiling within him; if he left, then he would never know if Arthur could accept the truth, and if what they'd felt for each other when he was human could come to life again.

He couldn't do to Arthur now what he'd had no choice but to do when he was John Smith. He couldn't disappear, not now, not when it seemed that Arthur might be developing feelings for the man he was, instead of the man he couldn't hope to be again.

If only he could reach into Arthur's soul and divine the truth of those feelings, see if they were truly there or if he was only deluding himself. But he didn't want to pry into Arthur's mind; it seemed such a terrible intrusion, and he couldn't do that to someone he cared about.

"Arthur ...." He swallowed hard, past the lump in his throat that was threatening to choke him. "I won't disappear on you. I promise you that. I'm going to be here for you when you need me. I know it's hard for you to believe that, but try. Please try."

"You look so much like him," Arthur whispered, repeating what he'd already said. "It's almost like seeing a ghost -- and I have to keep reminding myself that you're a different man." He raised a trembling hand to press it against the Doctor's cheek. "But my heart says otherwise."

The Doctor's own hearts leapt in his chest; this was more than he'd hoped for from Arthur at this stage. This was almost a declaration of his feelings, proof that he did care for him as he was and not only because of the resemblance to his lost love.

"I want to be the person you need," the Doctor managed to say, trying to keep himself from focusing on the other man's lips. They were close enough to kiss; he could almost taste the sweetness that Arthur's kiss would bring, his eyes fluttering closed in anticipation.

"Arthur!" A voice from the house made them pull apart; the two men looked up to see Winnie standing on the front steps, waving an arm at them. Reluctantly, the two of them pulled apart with a last longing look at each other, getting to their feet and heading for the house.

Even though they had been interrupted at an inopportune time, the Doctor could still feel his hearts leaping, soaring with joy. He had no doubt in his mind now that Arthur did care for him -- and that their relationship was going to progress much more rapidly from this point onwards.

***

Next story in series - Stay the Night.