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Fic: When Love Grows Cold
Title: When Love Grows Cold
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tarnera
Appearing in this work: 8th Doctor, Romana
Spoilers/Timeline: The end of the Last Great Time War.
Word Count: 590
Rating: PG-13, just to be safe. Implied Doctor/Romana.
Summary: The Doctor is forced to do something terrible by the woman he loves.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, save my crazy theories.
Prompt: Hypothermia & Extreme Cold
Author's Note: This was written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
cliche_bingo's challenge.
He slammed the doors to his TARDIS behind him and stood there a moment, breathing hard. The way she had looked at him, icy and impassive...an ice queen sitting on her throne, robed in scarlet, with explosions going off all around the Citadel. And then she had ordered him—ordered him!—to destroy...
He walked over to the console and leaned against it, shaking. He didn't have long, he knew, but he had never been the best at taking orders. He wanted to think a moment. The thing she had ordered him to do...and he just kept thinking about the expression on her face. Ice cold, like she didn't even know who he was.
He had known it was over between them, known it for years. Ever since E-space, where she had abandoned him. Or maybe she had left before he could abandon her, he had never been able to work out which it was. Still, that had been where he had said 'goodbye' to her, and where he had shut down the part of his hearts where she lived. He had trapped her smile in amber, locked it away, and oh-so-carefully placed the key high out of reach somewhere in his soul. He couldn't bear to throw it away, but at the same time he couldn't bear to look at the memories.
When she had come back to N-space, their relationship had been cordial, friendly, but it never became what it had been. Some things cannot be regenerated once they have died. Still, he thought they had gotten on all right, even when she became the Lady President.
He could still see her so-blue eyes staring straight through him, giving the order in a flat, detached voice. He wasn't sure if she was trying to protect herself or him by acting cold and emotionless, but it hurt, oh Rassilon it hurt...
He caught a glimpse of himself in the TARDIS's dark view screen. His eyes were wild and red-rimmed. They glittered with anger, with rage and unshed tears. The war had changed him so much. He had once been one of the most gentle of all his incarnations, but during the war he had killed...killed so many for the Time Lords and Gallifrey...and most of all, for her. He killed because she had asked him to stay, to help, to fight…
He ran a finger absently over a half-healed cut on his face, picking at a tear in his velvet coat with the other hand. If he was going to kill her, he wanted to remember the good things one last time. Reaching into his memories, he found the key, dusted it off gently, and opened the lock.
Black hair against a white, feathery ruff…the same hair against white sheets…then it was blonde hair by the sea…her sweet voice crying his name…a sailor suit…a pink coat, a white scarf…
All these memories and more flashed before his eyes in seconds. "Romana…" he whispered, and then there was no more time. He could sense that as clearly as if she had whispered it in his ear. If he was going to do it, it had to be now, else all would be lost.
With a cry of despair, he lunged at the console and let the golden light overwhelm him. His last coherent thought was wondering if he would survive this particular maneuver.
Everything considered he rather hoped that he wouldn't.
Goodbye, Doctor.
I'll miss you, Romana...
Author:
tarneraAppearing in this work: 8th Doctor, Romana
Spoilers/Timeline: The end of the Last Great Time War.
Word Count: 590
Rating: PG-13, just to be safe. Implied Doctor/Romana.
Summary: The Doctor is forced to do something terrible by the woman he loves.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, save my crazy theories.
Prompt: Hypothermia & Extreme Cold
Author's Note: This was written for
cliche_bingo's challenge.He slammed the doors to his TARDIS behind him and stood there a moment, breathing hard. The way she had looked at him, icy and impassive...an ice queen sitting on her throne, robed in scarlet, with explosions going off all around the Citadel. And then she had ordered him—ordered him!—to destroy...
He walked over to the console and leaned against it, shaking. He didn't have long, he knew, but he had never been the best at taking orders. He wanted to think a moment. The thing she had ordered him to do...and he just kept thinking about the expression on her face. Ice cold, like she didn't even know who he was.
He had known it was over between them, known it for years. Ever since E-space, where she had abandoned him. Or maybe she had left before he could abandon her, he had never been able to work out which it was. Still, that had been where he had said 'goodbye' to her, and where he had shut down the part of his hearts where she lived. He had trapped her smile in amber, locked it away, and oh-so-carefully placed the key high out of reach somewhere in his soul. He couldn't bear to throw it away, but at the same time he couldn't bear to look at the memories.
When she had come back to N-space, their relationship had been cordial, friendly, but it never became what it had been. Some things cannot be regenerated once they have died. Still, he thought they had gotten on all right, even when she became the Lady President.
He could still see her so-blue eyes staring straight through him, giving the order in a flat, detached voice. He wasn't sure if she was trying to protect herself or him by acting cold and emotionless, but it hurt, oh Rassilon it hurt...
He caught a glimpse of himself in the TARDIS's dark view screen. His eyes were wild and red-rimmed. They glittered with anger, with rage and unshed tears. The war had changed him so much. He had once been one of the most gentle of all his incarnations, but during the war he had killed...killed so many for the Time Lords and Gallifrey...and most of all, for her. He killed because she had asked him to stay, to help, to fight…
He ran a finger absently over a half-healed cut on his face, picking at a tear in his velvet coat with the other hand. If he was going to kill her, he wanted to remember the good things one last time. Reaching into his memories, he found the key, dusted it off gently, and opened the lock.
Black hair against a white, feathery ruff…the same hair against white sheets…then it was blonde hair by the sea…her sweet voice crying his name…a sailor suit…a pink coat, a white scarf…
All these memories and more flashed before his eyes in seconds. "Romana…" he whispered, and then there was no more time. He could sense that as clearly as if she had whispered it in his ear. If he was going to do it, it had to be now, else all would be lost.
With a cry of despair, he lunged at the console and let the golden light overwhelm him. His last coherent thought was wondering if he would survive this particular maneuver.
Everything considered he rather hoped that he wouldn't.
Goodbye, Doctor.
I'll miss you, Romana...