Title: Wasted Time
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Michael Cutter
Fandom: Doctor Who/Law & Order
Rating: PG-13
Table: 100_tales
Prompt: 43, Years
Warning: ongoing story, past non-con
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 Michael Cutter, unfortunately. Please do not sue.***
It was time for them to leave New York City, Mike thought, taking a last look out of the door of the Tardis. He was still amazed that no one seemed to notice this blue police box sitting in a tree-shaded area of the park; everyone simply ignored the ship as though it wasn't there.
That was how he'd felt sometimes when he was walking through the streets of the city that he'd called his home for so many years. Unnoticed, invisible, as though he didn't exist. And strangely enough, that feeling had never really bothered him much.
How would he have felt if he'd had to stay here after the uproar that had come out of his being kidnapped? It was a mess when he'd dealt with it; if he hadn't been able to leave with the Doctor, it would have been even worse, and probably have gone on for longer.
How many more years would he have stayed here in New York? Would he have felt that he had to leave, to get away from all the publicity, to try and start another life somewhere else? Or would he have tried to tough it out, and kept practicing law?
Of course he'd have continued his practice, even though he would no longer have been with th DA's office. He wouldn't have wanted to do anything else. He would have simply tried to make the best of a bad situation, and hope that his anger and resentment would cool someday.
Though they probably never would have, he thought wryly, turning away from the view of the park in front of him. He would have always felt that bitterness, an anger that would never be quenched. There was no telling how that anger would have eventually come to the surface.
All the years that he'd lived here in New York, he'd always felt that he had his finger on the pulse of the city, especially after he'd begun working in the DA's office. How wrong he'd been! He had never thought that being the victim of a violent crime would make people turn against him.
But no -- the city had apparently thought that simply because he was a man, he should appear invincible, as though the criminals he prosecuted could never touch him in any way outside of a courtroom. Being a victim hadn't made him more human. It had made him a figure of ridicule.
And how many years was it going to take for him to stop thinking of himself in that way? Mike's lips twisted in a wry smile at the thought; he always told people not to think of themselves as victims, yet here he was doing it to himself.
He obviously wasn't very good at practicing what he preached. Did that make him a hypocrite? He sighed softly, closing the door of the Tardis and trudging up the three steps that led into the control room. That was a question that he didn't really want answered.
The Doctor looked up from the console, a frown creasing his brow as he took in the weary, defeated look on Mike's face. "What is it, love?" he asked softly when his lover leaned against the console, grasping it as though it kept him from falling to the floor.
"It was just thinking of all the years I've spent here in this city," Michael told him, his voice sober. "All the years that I'm starting to feel may have been wasted. I feel like I've given so many years of my life to New York, and it's given me nothing back."
"You shouldn't say that," the Doctor told him, sounding slightly reproachful. "Remember, you had a lot of productive years here when you were practicing law -- both when you were in the DA's office, and before. You learned a lot, and helped a lot of people."
"Then why do all those years feel so empty when I think back on them?" Mike asked, lifting his head to stare at the Doctor across the console. "Why do I feel like so many years of my life have been spent doing something that's just faded in to obscurity?"
"But it didn't," the Doctor objected, moving around the console to stand beside his lover. "Mike, you made a difference in so many lives. You put away criminals. You kept the city safe. I don't think they appreciated you enough for what you did, but you can feel good about doing so much."
Michael thought about what the Doctor was saying, closing his eyes and sighing heavily. "I guess you're right," he said, his voice slow and reluctant. "It's just hard to see everything I did in that way, when it all feels like it was for nothing in the end."
"Was it?" The Doctor's voice was very soft, barely a whisper, his voice calm and soothing. "Do you really think that all the people who received justice because of you think it was for nothing? All the people who now have closure in their lives because you found it for them?"
Mike shook his head, knowing that the Time Lord spoke the truth. All the years that he'd worked tirelessly at his job of prosecuting criminals hadn't been for nothing; he was just frustrated and angry that he hadn't been able to get that same justice and closure for himself.
"I know those years weren't just wasted time," he finally said, opening his eyes and gazing at his lover. "It's just .... I'm frustrated, Doctor. There doesn't seem to be any way to find my own closure, and I know that I won't be at peace until I do."
The Time Lord nodded, sliding his arms around Michael's waist and drawing the other man close against him. "I'm sorry, love," he whispered against Mike's hair, his voice heavy with regret. "If I could do anything to make things better, I would. You know I would."
"I know," Michael whispered, hugging the Doctor tightly, not wanting to let go. Somehow, just holding this man could make him feel better. They had years ahead of them when they could hug each other -- and kiss, and touch, and talk, and make love.
That thought gave a lift to his spirits; just the thought of all the years stretching ahead that he would spend with this man by his side suddenly made the years behind him seem as though they didn't mean so much. He had so much to look forward to that the past didn't seem to matter.
"You know, all those years weren't wasted," he said, lifting his head from the Doctor's shoulder and giving the other man a brilliant smile. "You know why? Because without them, I wouldn't have met you. I wouldn't be here, on a spaceship, in love with a wonderful man."
"And you'll be here for years to come," the Doctor told him, raising a hand to brush back a few errant strands of hair from his boyfriend's face. "We have such a long time ahead of us, Mike. And I hope that in that time, we'll be able to get you the closure you need to move on."
"I hope so, too," Michael said, feeling the wave of regret tug at him again. "Every time we come back here, I feel like we might be on the verge of discovering something about those men who kidnapped me -- but then I realize how hopeless it is, and I get frustrated."
"We may not have to do all the work ourselves," the Time Lord pointed out. "Couldn't you go to those friends of yours on the police force, and ask them to keep looking for clues?" His voice was hopeful, his gaze riveted on Mike's face. "They might be able to help."
"They already are," Mike told him, resisting the urge to let out another heavy sigh. "Lupo and Bernard are still trying to find something out -- but they've come up against brick walls at every turn, so far. I guess I'll just have to resign myself to the trail going cold."
"We're going to find out who did this to you, Mike." The Doctor's voice was strong and firm when he spoke; Michael was almost surprised at the strength and conviction in his tone. "And it won't take years to do it. I'll make sure of that. I want to put those men behind bars."
"And I want the closure of knowing they've been punished." Mike tried to keep his voice from trembling, as it so often did when he thought about those hours of helplessness. "I keep telling myself that we'll find them one day. And that they'll end up where they belong."
"They will, love." The Doctor's hands moved down his back, pulling him closer into that comforting embrace. "And when we know they're caught, then we'll never have to look behind us again. I hope that day will come to us sooner than we think."
"I hope it won't take too much longer," Mike said, taking a deep breath. "But if it does, I'm not going to let it affect the years in front of us. I might want closure, but if I don't get it, I'm still going on with my life. After all, we've got years ahead of us to get past all this."
"Indeed we do," the Doctor murmured, leaning closer to his lover. As their lips met, all thoughts of the past flew from Mike's mind, to be replaced by the glow of happiness he always felt when the Doctor was in his arms and all seemed right with the world.***
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