Sometimes he feels flashes of emotion that aren't his

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story.

Authors Note: This is the first thing I've written in a very long time so any constructive criticism would be very gratefully received! Thank you.

The Final Goodbye

Sometimes he feels flashes of emotion that aren't his.

They belong to him that much he knows. But they don't fit, they are totally irrelevant. He keeps it to himself, his current companion sharing his TARDIS learns not to question the brief moments he lapses into another thought completely unconnected to the one preceding it.

The first time it happens it catches him completely unaware. He's just doing some maintenance work, routine stuff that allows his mind to wander, when all of a sudden a jolt of extreme pleasure ripples through him so intense he almost cries out. Her face, beautifully contorted with pleasure, sweat running down her neck and between her soft curves, inviting his tongue. Her breast wonderfully exposed for him, all for him. He comes back to himself, shaking with longing. It takes him an hour to stand up again; he lays on the floor – the man who never stops running remains still.

He learns to control it, as he controls so much. He can't quite stop the initial burst of pleasure but he learns to shut away the picture that accompanies it. It's ok when he's busy, when he's running, He feels the burst but from far away, a slight twinge on his conscious. He learns never to stand still for too long. At first he prefers not to think about it, the momentary lapses of concentration are bad enough without the knowledge that somewhere his doppelganger is happier than he has ever been. Later he dwells on it endlessly, brooding about the one road he could never take.

He is in the middle of explaining the intricacies of the Darwean crystal empire to his new friend when a new emotion overwhelms him. So nervous, he's so nervous. He's never felt butterflies like this before in all his hundreds of years. He feels like he's going to explode, cry and be sick all at once. Then he turns and there she is, so beautiful in her white dress with a radiant smile that's his, a smile that promises to love him and care for him until the end of his days. His hands are shaking with elation and he feels his single heart will burst with happiness. She's in front of him and he promises to never let her go. His friend is waving her hand in front of his face, she looks worried. He is disorientated but smiles and creates some excuse. She seems appeased with this flimsy reasoning and the two of them turn back to discussing the wonder of the Universe. Never before has it seemed so hollow.

The flashes come sporadically, moments of happiness that aren't his. He ignores them mostly and they become part of the fabric of his daily thinking. Sometimes he can go for days, weeks or even months with nothing but he quickly learns that a long period without only serves to lower his defences towards the next one. However, it is the one some years later that almost tears his heart in two.

Over the past months he has been aware of a slowly building happiness. It has been different to before; instead of flashes he has felt a contentment and happiness running parallel to his own emotions. It has almost been peaceful and he's grown used to this restful existence. It has helped him in his day-to-day life, he finds himself stopping to enjoy small moments in a way he hasn't for centuries. It is this that makes the next flash all the more devastating.

He is alone again, his companion is gone. His loyal friend has found something more, something he could never give her. She has fallen in love. He is happy for them although he sidesteps the invitation to the wedding – he never could get the hang of weddings. He feels ok, though he is alone he finds something comforting in the thought of a love story. The flash, when it comes, sends him to his knees. So much emotion, so human, he cannot stand still, there is too much going on. He sees people running around him, Doctors, so ironic that they don't answer his calls for information. A nurse gives him a kindly smile and offers him a drink. He takes it and moves it from hand to hand before setting it down and forgetting about it. Jackie is there beside him, she offers him a seat, a meal but he couldn't leave this room if the world was ending. So long, 20 hours, why is it taking so long? Then there is a burst of activity, shouts and screams and the smell of blood. Then it is over and a new cry joins the Earth. He looks to her first, always to her, she is smiling, her face is red and swollen and her hair is matted, she's never looked more beautiful. She looks down into her arms. And there, there is the reason for the entire Universe. He's on his knees beside her bed looking into a pair of eyes identical to his own. His child. His heart swells and tears run down his face as he stretches out one finger to stroke the downy soft hair of his son. He comes back to himself with a gasp, one hand still outstretched as if waiting for something to touch. This time he can't hold back the hot tears that spill from his eyes. He wraps his arms tightly around him and tries to hold the loss in but can't stop it from bursting forth in a tide. He is an animal raging in his solitary cage, memories from a forgotten life taunting him. He shouts and rants his anger to the walls, all the time asking the one question he never can.

The years pass, filled with adventure. He makes new friends, lives through more loss. All the time returning to the same beginning. He is aware of this parallel life living through him. At night his dreams are haunted with two children, a boy and a girl. The boy has his eyes and his smile, the girl looks so much like her it makes his heart ache. He keeps it at bay as much as he can. He sees flashes of her, aging now though still beautiful and so much more confident and assured than he ever saw her. He is constantly amazed by her; by the visions he is given. Sometimes when he looks in the mirror he seems older, though when he looks the illusion is gone. He wonders if it is just a trick of the light, or if his mind is going.

One day he is walking through a market place in ancient Greece when he is overcome by grief and despair and he knows she is gone.

He travels to London, back to the place where it all began and sits alone until the sun goes down and the sky is littered with stars. He never thought it would come to this, he feels shattered although he knows in his heart that he hasn't seen her for over 60 years. He tries to picture her and the smell of her perfume but he struggles. He thinks of his double for the first time in years. Although less his double now, older and more lined. He wonders how he is coping with the loss of her, and suspects he won't be doing it well. He always needed her from the moment he met her. She fixed him and made him whole and in return he took her away from everything she ever knew. He hopes his twin, wherever he is, can cope with this pain. He is painfully aware that what he is feeling is the mere echo of an emotion too great for words.

The days seem greyer now, he knows the pain will pass as it always does but for now he lets it envelope him. He grieves alone for the lifetime he never had. He searches for peace.

He is not surprised when he feels his left heart contract in pain just a few weeks after her death. It drives him to his knees, gasping he holds on tight to his TARDIS to try and anchor himself to the present. He feels as though there is something trying to pull him away. He struggles for breath and feels his heart stop. He collapses to the floor, revelling in the end of the pain. A few well placed thumps and he almost feels himself again, almost. It takes him a while to notice at first, he's aware that something's wrong and finds himself scouring the TARDIS for a problem to fix. It's a month later that he realises he's missing the connection he had grown slowly used to.

He travels to Norway, to Bad Wolf bay. He doesn't know why, he moves there as though in a dream. When he arrives he steps out into the sand, not knowing what to expect or why he has come.

"Hello."

There is the double he has managed to avoid thinking about for so long. He looks identical to the day they parted. The Doctor frowns.

"You haven't aged, you look exactly the same."

His twin grins, "Weeell I did get older here, in this time, you just see me like this because you remember me like this, it's all simple brain waves really."

"You're dead."

"Yup" The twin is scrutinising him as the cogs whir in his brain.

"But that's impossible; you're dead and in another dimension. It is physically impossible for you to be standing here talking to me." Despite himself the Doctor starts to feel a building excitement, he likes having something new to figure out.

"I know, brilliant isn't it?" The twin grins again, "But one thing I've figured out, in all this time living with humans, being human, is that sometimes you should expect the impossible." He cocks his head to one side, "Isn't that what you do, doctor? You bring these people the impossible and they love you for it."

"Why are you here?" The Doctor isn't in the mood to play games anymore, "Why am I here?"

"I don't know." The twin shrugs, "You brought me here Doctor, you're the one with the questions."

The Doctor opens his mouth to issue a denial but closes it again.

"You're really him."

"Yup."

"And you're really dead?"

"Yup."

The Doctor exhales.

"I felt it you know, your life." His twin looks at him with an inscrutable expression, "I saw you get married, have children, I watched you both grow old." The twin waits as the Doctor tries to find the words. "She was amazing."

"She was." The twin visibly softens, his eyes glisten. "If you could have just seen her Doctor, she was everything – more than the entire Universe. People will be talking about her for the rest of time."

"And you had two children?"

"Yes." His twin smiles, "They are amazing, Michael is married now, he has children of his own."

"Michael? The boy? He has children?" The Doctor tries to imagine being a grandfather and fails.

"Yes," The twin gazes off over the sea, "Not Donna though, she's too busy saving the world to get married."

"Donna?" The Doctor pauses, "You named the girl Donna?"

"Yes," The twin turns back to him, suddenly serious. "I knew what you had to do."

The Doctor feels his eyes smart and he looks into the distance. "She didn't deserve that, she was so special. She never even knew the things she had done." He swallows heavily; it was still painful, even after 60 years, to imagine the look in her eyes as he wiped every memory from her. The two of them stand in silence for a while, watching the waves.

"What's it like?" The Doctor asks eventually, "Dying, the end, no coming back. What was it like?"

The twin doesn't answer for so long that the Doctor wonders if he hasn't heard. Eventually he sighs and runs a hand up to ruffle his hair.

"It's terrifying." The twin runs his hand across his face as though scrubbing away a memory. "It's painful and scary and the most intense adventure I've ever been on." Unexpectedly he turns to the Doctor and smiles. "But it's ok, because at the end of it. When all the lights have faded and the faces are gone, you know that she's waiting and that you're together, forever."

The Doctor tries to swallow around the lump in his throat. His twin looks away over his right shoulder.

"I have to go soon Doctor."

The Doctor whirls around, following his twins gaze. "Is that her? Can you see her?"

"Yes." The twin smiles, "Yes, I see her."

"Why can't I see her?" He feels unexpectedly jealous.

"I don't know." The twin regards him sadly. The Doctor looks him in the eye.

"This is the last goodbye then."

"I think so."

The Doctor sighs heavily and looks out into the distance, remembering another time he stood on this beach, and the time before that. Remembering the times he didn't say goodbye.

"Tell her…" He pauses and fights against the lump in his throat, "Tell her she was amazing and beautiful. Will you tell her that?"

"I will." His twin turns to face him and gives him a small nod. "Goodbye Doctor."

"Goodbye." The Doctor watches as his twin turns to walk away. "Wait!" Surprising himself the Doctor runs towards the fading form of his double. "Wait! Tell her…" The twin is disappearing into the air. "Tell her I love her!"

The twin is gone, vanished into thin air. The Doctor stands with his mouth still open and tears running down his face.

"I love you." He says, quietly.

"I love you Doctor." The words are spoken so softly they are swept into the wind and swirl around him. He feels the breeze against his face and closes his eyes, letting it dry his tears.

End