Title: This Time Around
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: gen
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: R
Table: Beta 1, challenge_the
Prompt: 14, Brave
Author's Note: Slight spoilers for the Doctor Who episode The Fires Of Pompeii.
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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The Doctor looked out over the hilltop that he was standing on, remembering other times that he'd looked out on other desecrated cities. There had been times when he'd done this with companions by his side, and others when he'd been alone. It was always different.

But the feelings were always the same, whether he was looking down on the destruction of Pompeii, the ruins of another city that he hadn't managed to save, or some place that had been abandoned long ago and he knew nothing about.

He always felt as though somehow, he'd failed that civilization. He'd failed those people, he'd failed to do his job as a Time Lord. He hadn't been able to change the inevitable; and even though he knew that he couldn't always do that, it never stopped him from wanting to.

It had been so hard not to save Pompeii. He would have been able to do it; not easily, of course, but he could have saved the city and more than just one family. But he couldn't interfere with history, no matter how much his hearts ached for the lives he couldn't save.

He'd wanted so badly to do more than he was allowed to, on so many different occasions. He wanted to live up to the image that his companions had of him as the brave conqueror, the man who could do anything that he put his mind to.

That wasn't always possible. And when it wasn't, he felt that not only had he let those companions down, as well as the places that he hadn't been able to save -- but he'd let himself down as well, having to turn his back on what he felt in his hearts was right.

Of course he couldn't have allowed himself to save Pompeii. It was written in the history books that the city had perished under a hail of volcanic ash; if he'd changed that destiny, there would have been dire consequences. He couldn't have let himself interfere.

But it had been so hard to watch that wanton destruction, to know that there were people who he had passed by on the streets of the city dying in that horrible eruption. People who he had smiled at, brushed past, even touched in some small way.

And he'd never known their names. So many people who had passed out of existence in what was the blink of an eye to him, so many who he could have saved if he hadn't been bound by the laws of time and the knowledge that the consequences wouldn't be good.

He had tried to tell himself time and time again that it took a certain kind of bravery to face up to the fact that he couldn't save everyone; that he was limited in the good he could do. But that didn't make it any easier to face destruction that he wanted to prevent.

The Doctor closed his eyes, cutting off the view presented to his gaze. There were so many times when he hadn't lived up to people's expectations. He wasn't always the brave, fearless warrior who went running into trouble. He would much rather avoid it.

Not that he couldn't be brave when it was needed. But that bravery stemmed from knowing that he had no other choice if he wanted to come out of a situation alive. Yes, he would put himself at risk for others -- but there was always an underlying sense of self-preservation.

That was true of everyone, though, wasn't it? He sighed, opening his eyes and raising his head to look up at the stars. Of all the planets out there, all the species, he didn't think that he would be considered one of the bravest of them all.

He wasn't. Not really. That need to preserve himself was always at the heart of every decision he made; of course, it was different for him than it was for others, because he had the ability to regenerate. He knew that he could always live in another body.

But even that option was one that he didn't like to exercise. Especially not now, when he finally had a body that he loved and wanted to keep for as long as he possibly could. He didn't want to lose this body; it would be a horrible blow when that happened.

He would, essentially, be dead. Yes, he would live on, in some ways; but the essence of who he was in this particular body would be gone. He would still be the Doctor, but another man would get up and walk away. A man that wouldn't be exactly the same.

It wasn't only changing bodies; there was always a personality change, as well. This was the first time in all of his long life that he'd ever felt completely comfortable in the body he was given -- the first time that he'd ever really liked his body.

He didn't want that to change. He didn't want to take a chance on having a new body, one that he might not like as much -- one that he could possibly dislike quite vehemently. But he would have to live with it; for a Time Lord, that change was always inevitable.

He'd never really felt that he was afraid of that change before. The Doctor heaved a sigh, wishing that he could put these thoughts out of his mind. He didn't want to wrestle with them now; he'd much prefer to push them away and not have them clawing at his mind.

Was it brave of him to face that change, over and over again? Was it bravery to take that gamble of not being happy with what he'd be given, rather than letting himself slip away? Or was it some essential cowardice that made him keep accepting whatever hand was dealt to him?

No. The Doctor shook his head, scowling. He wasn't a coward. He never had been. Not wanting to lose this body didn't mean that he was afraid of what would eventually happen; it merely meant that he didn't want to lose something that he'd come to value.

In a way, his body was like Pompeii -- it was written in history that he would have to lose it at some point. It was the price he paid for being a Time Lord -- an existence that gave him great joy, but could also bring greater sorrow than he could ever have dreamed of.

He looked down at the city that was burning in the valley that he and the Tardis had just left, his hearts reaching out to it. At some point, this body that he was in, this body that he loved, would go the way of that city -- only a thing of memory, no longer existing in this realm.

And he would face that with whatever bravery he could muster, remembering that he was a Time Lord and that it was his lot in life to accept change. Change in the world, change in himself. He couldn't hold on to the past, no matter how tightly he might clutch at it.

This time around, he had more of a reason to want to keep what he had than he ever had before. Losing this body was something he dreaded -- but he would turn a brave face to the inevitable, no matter how much it might pain him to do so.

The Doctor let his gaze sweep over the burning valley again, then turned his back on it and entered the Tardis, closing the door behind him. Within seconds, the blue box had shimmered into nothingness, nothing left behind it but a place that would all too soon be nothing more than a memory.

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