Title: Wherever You May Go
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Cal Lightman
Fandom: Doctor Who/Lie to Me
Rating: PG-13
Table: 30_losses
Prompt: 18B, Finality
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 Cal Lightman, unfortunately. Please do not sue.

***

"It's not working out, is it?"

The Doctor's voice was barely audible, even in the quiet of his bedroom on the Tardis. He was lying in Cal's arms after they had made love, his head resting on his lover's chest, feeling the one steady heartbeat there and wishing that this moment would never end.

He wanted more than anything for Cal to shake his head, to deny his words, but he knew that this man was far too honest to do so. If Cal didn't think that things were working out for the best between them, he wouldn't hesitate to express how he felt.

Cal wouldn't do that in an obnoxious way; he would be kind and gentle, and he wouldn't want to cause any pain. But it wasn't fair to expect him to lie and deny that the obvious strains in their relationship weren't there, or that they could be easily overcome.

Why hadn't he realized from the beginning that an ongoing relationship wasn't in the cards for them? Cal had an important job on Earth; he was a famous person. He couldn't simply leave his life and responsibilities to travel the universe with the Doctor.

It didn't matter how much they loved each other -- they couldn't go on. And the Doctor knew it, as he was sure that Cal did. They could see each other now and then, but it was better if they saw each other as friends, rather than as lovers.

If only it wasn't so hard to let this man go, the Doctor told himself, closing his eyes to try and hold back the tears that had risen to the surface. Try as he might, he couldn't stop a few of them from falling, trickling down his cheeks to land on Cal's bare skin.

"Don't cry, love." Cal's voice was soft and loving, the hand that his lover ran through his hair gentle and soothing. "We knew this was coming, didn't we? We might have tried to fool ourselves into thinking that it wasn't, but I think we've both always known in the back of our minds."

"I can't not cry," the Doctor told him, raising a hand to wipe ineffectually at the tears that were now flowing freely. "I know that I'll see you again -- but knowing that you'll never touch me again is what's so hard for me to bear. I don't want to give this up."

"How do you know that I'll never touch you again, love?" Cal asked, his voice soft and loving. "Do you really think that if you come back to see me, I'll be able to stay away from you? I think we could always allow ourselves a night of passion now and then, don't you?"

"What if you meet someone else and fall in love?" the Doctor asked, the words catching in his throat. As unfair as he knew it was, he hated to think of someone else being with Cal, of this man giving his heart to anyone else. He hated to think of losing Cal's love.

"Even if I did, that wouldn't make me love you any less," Cal said softly, sounding thoughtful. "We might not feel that we could make love again in the physical sense, but you have to know that I'll always love you. And that wherever you may go, I'll always be with you in spirit."

But it wasn't the same, the Doctor thought miserably. And they both knew it.

Still, he couldn't bring himself to argue with Cal -- not on the night that he knew was the beginning of the end for them. Oh, who was he kidding? It was the end. This had been the last time they would lie here together, the last time they would make love.

Oh, they might share physical intimacy again if he came back and Cal hadn't found anyone else and fallen in love with them -- but he had no doubt that it would happen eventually, and that this man wouldn't always be his. A part of him wondered if that had ever been the case.

Had Cal Lightman ever truly been his? He had never been able to take Cal away into the stars with him on more than a very brief trip; even though they loved each other, he couldn't really say that Cal had given himself completely to this way of life, and to the man who led that life.

He knew that Cal loved him -- just as he loved Cal. But there was no way that Cal could make the kind of commitment to him that he needed. They could never have a life together, even if he could stop traveling through time and space and settle down with his lover.

A life for the two of them wasn't possible. They would have to take their happiness where they could find it -- try to keep a corner of their lives reserved for each other, even if they couldn't be together on a more permanent basis. It was better than having nothing of each other at all.

But would it be enough -- for Cal as well as for him? It might seem like enough for a while, but the Doctor knew in his hearts that neither of them would be truly happy with such an arrangement. Maybe it was better that they end it for good now.

He couldn't do that. Cal was too much a part of his hearts to simply let him go.

"I can't just walk away from you," he whispered, making the tears stop flowing with an effort. "You've changed me too much, Cal. For the better. I can't simply walk away and be content with nothing more than memories. And I don't think you can, either."

"No, I can't," Cal admitted with a sigh. "We might say that it's going to end here and now, but we both know that it isn't, don't we? We might be starting to let each other go, but it'll be a long time before either one of us can say that it's over for good."

"So are you saying that we go on as we have been -- only seeing each other when we can?" the Doctor asked, his hearts seeming to skip a beat. "And if anything changes in the future, then we let each other know openly and honestly, and then we say goodbye?"

"I think that's all we can do, love, don't you?" Cal asked, stroking his fingers through the softness of the Doctor's hair. "We can't give each other up. Not yet. I'm not ready for that, and neither are you. I'm not ready to say goodbye just yet."

The Doctor closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief, feeling pent-up tension seep out of him. Cal was right; neither of them were ready to let the other go. They might have to do so in the future, but they could wait a little long until that inevitable, final goodbye separated them.

"I can't say goodbye, either," he managed to whisper, not sure if he could say anything else at the moment. His relief over not having to leave Cal for good, knowing that this hadn't been the final time they would be together, was almost palpable.

"Don't forget this, Doctor," Cal told him, his voice sinking to a soft, husky whisper. The words sounded choked; it was obvious that Cal was feeling just as emotional as the Doctor was. "Wherever you may go in the universe, I'm always with you. I'm always in your hearts."

"I hope that I'll always be in yours," the Time Lord murmured, sure that he was going to cry again. He didn't know if they were happy tears or not; just the thought of leaving Cal, not being sure when he would come back and they would be together like this again, weighed on his soul.

"Don't be sad, love," Cal told him, clearing his throat slightly. "You'll come back, I know it. And I'll be waiting here for you. I don't think that I could ever find anyone to replace you, even if I looked for a million years. I might not be able to go with you, but I can be here whenever you need me."

Did those words make him feel better -- or worse? the Doctor wondered. He couldn't help feeling guilty at the thought that he might be holding Cal back from finding someone here on Earth who he could have a normal life with. But the feeling dissipated as quickly as it had come to him.

Wherever he might be in the universe, he would always have someone to come back to. Cal would always be here, holding out his arms and his heart. And he would always do the same for Cal; if this man ever needed him, he would come running to his lover's side.

"I'll try not to," the Doctor murmured, snuggling into Cal's embrace. He had to concentrate on the fact that this wasn't the end of their affair; this wasn't a final goodbye. That finality might eventually come to them, but it would be far, far into the future.

He couldn't let himself brood on a loss that might not come. But there was some part of him, some feeling buried deep within his soul, that told him that day was coming. Maybe neither of them realized it yet, or wanted to admit it, but they would eventually go their separate ways.

Until then, he was here with Cal. Right where he belonged -- and where he wanted to be.

***