Title: Words Like Knives
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Ten.5
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: 50ficlets
Prompt: 39, Words
Author's Note: The human version of the Doctor is being referred to as John Smith in this fic, since it's the Doctor's human alias and his clone needed a name.
Author's Note: Spoilers for Journey's End, somewhat. This is an completely alternate take on the ending of Season Four.
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 his human clone. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor sighed as he hesitated in the corridor leading to his bedroom on the Tardis -- the bedroom he was now sharing with John. John. His human clone, the man he'd taken away with him against the wishes of every person he was close to on Earth.

His small hands clenched into fists as he leaned against the wall, shaking his head and swallowing hard. It didn't matter what everyone else thought. John belonged with him. There had been no reason to banish him, to send him off with someone he didn't love.

Every person who had been there during the time they'd been on Earth had insisted that he had to do just that. He'd been expected to condemn John to a living hell.

He wouldn't have been happy in that life, the Doctor told himself, his fists unclenching for just a moment before they tightened again. It wasn't fair to him for the world to ignore what he wanted, for them to assume they knew what was best for him.

And what she wanted didn't matter. The Doctor's eyes narrowed as he thought of the trouble she'd caused, forcing the events that had nearly made him regenerate against his will, almost causing the destruction of worlds because of her childishness.

Two dimensions had nearly collapsed simply because she was a shallow, spoilt brat who refused to acknowledge that she couldn't have what she wanted. The mere thought of her wanting him made the Doctor shudder with disgust.

She was a child. A spoilt, whiny, egotistical child who didn't care who she hurt, or what destruction she caused, as long as she got what she thought she wanted.

The problem was, she hadn't really wanted him. She was looking for a father figure, not a lover -- and he'd always thought of her as a child, as a kind of daughter. Her idea that he would ever sully himself by servicing her sexually repulsed him in every way.

In fact, the one good thing she'd done was to bring about John's creation -- even though the Doctor had thought at first that it would mean his own demise. Fortunately, it hadn't happened that way -- and now he and John were together.

But he'd said some terrible things to the man he loved during that harrowing time, things that he hadn't yet apologized for. It was time to take those words back -- and if he couldn't do that, then to at least try to repair some of the damage they had caused.

The Doctor knew only too well from long experience that words could cut like knives; they could wound more deeply than any physical blow.

It was past time that he made amends for some of the harsh words he'd said to John, words that his lover hadn't deserved. After all, everyone made mistakes -- and even though he had a Time Lord brain, John was, in many ways, only human.

He had tried to do what he thought was best -- and in the end, maybe he had achieved a sort of peace. His actions could cause problems in the future, but the Doctor hadn't had the right to upbraid him for making the decision he'd thought was for the best.

What would he have done if he'd been in John's place? He really couldn't say. John had pointed out to him that when that spoilt child had caused so much destruction, he hadn't so much as blinked an eyelash. It was really a double standard.

He'd behaved badly, letting words fall out that should never have been said. He couldn't retract them, but he could at least try to smooth them over.

Of course, words had been the cause of this awkwardness in the first place, he cautioned himself as he took one more step towards the bedroom door. Maybe saying more words would only compound the problem. Maybe he couldn't make things better.

No. He took a deep breath, shaking his head as though to clear it. John was a part of him, even if he didn't see some situations in exactly the same way. John understood him better than anyone else ever could. He would understand the sincerity behind the Doctor's words.

If John didn't understand -- then no one would. This man was meant to be with him; he might not have thought so at first, but it had become more and more obvious until the Doctor had been unable to deny the fact that they were meant to be.

He would have to go to the man he loved and let the words pour out -- words that came from his hearts and soul, words that he should have already spoken.

The Doctor only hoped that John would accept those words. He took another deep breath, his next few steps bringing him to the doorway of their bedroom, the words starting to bubble up already as two pairs of dark, enigmatic gazes met and held.

***

Next story in series - If the World Should End.