eljay_earthgirl: (Midnight)
[personal profile] eljay_earthgirl
Title: Solitary
Author: [livejournal.com profile] eljay_earthgirl 
Words: 491
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angst
A/N: *points to new username* Used to be eriknannie4evr. Grew up a little and am now [livejournal.com profile] eljay_earthgirl . On a more personal note, this whole drabble got started when I had a minor/not-so-minor meltdown over coming home from college. It's been 4 weeks and it all finally got to me. Somewhere in between sobbing and cursing my parents, I grabbed the laptop and wrote this thing. Forgive any errors, I had my glasses off for easy tear-wiping access. Huge thanks to [livejournal.com profile] sykira for helping me in more ways than I can count. This is for you.

Oh, and Weekly Drabble Challenge #56: Memory


He doesn’t know where he is in the TARDIS but he knows when it starts.

It is a catch in his breath, a moment where the world slows for a moment. His chest feels pulled in, like perhaps his spine would swallow his heart. Suddenly, in a rush too quick for even him to measure, it all falls on him: the pain, the grief, the sheer sorrow he never got to express.

The first person he thinks of is Donna, the newest of his losses, but he cries not only for her, but also for everyone he’s lost. As he stumbles through the TARDIS the need to be held, to know that someone, ANYONE, cares is overwhelming. He collapses in his room, clutching his own shoulders in some semblance of comfort. He tries to stem the tears, but they won’t lessen, and every thought brings a new onslaught.

Five, ten, thirty minutes pass and he still can’t stop sobbing. He feels so broken, lying here alone, with no one to cry with, no one to lean on as he tries to stay afloat in the sea of emotions. For the first time in his life, he feels the burden of the Time Lord fully.

He squeezes his eyes shut, and for a moment imagines arms wrapping around him, gathering him up into an embrace. He rocks slowly, thinking of the crooning song his mother used to sing to ease his sorrows as a child. He thinks of the smell of Donna’s hair, the sweet fragrance filling his memory and easing the sobs only slightly. He thinks of nothing but this, the ghostly feel of arms around him, his mother’s voice soothing him, and Donna’s smell lulling him into comfort.

Slowly the sobs give way to whimpers, and when his body cannot take anymore he falls asleep. When he awakes in the morning his head throbs and his eyes remain bloodshot. He passes you-know-who’s (he doesn’t allow himself to ever say her name) door on the way to the kitchen and pauses for a moment.

Leaning in, he breathes deeply, catching the faintest whiff of the lingering smell that permeates the room. As tears prick unbidden at his eyes, he straightens and quickly heads away. By the end of the day her (the only her the Doctor will ever allow in here again) door is dead lock sealed, with the TARDIS setting the final coding. He stares at the door, the one he will never be allowed to enter again, and nods. The TARDIS groans and creaks in protest as the door is moved away and hidden in the secret places no one will find. He stares at the wall for a beat, then continues to the console room and sets the next coordinates.

The TARDIS puts this day in her memory banks with a marker on it. She knows it is the last time he will ever cry.

She is right.

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September 2012

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