A/N: Before anything else, this is a post-Doomsday (sort of) one-shot. So anyone who hasn't seen that, yeah… Anyway, read on, if you please.

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. Period. The End. Curtain close, and all that.

Bring Them Back (to Streets of Gold)

He lives in a patchwork of forgotten people and promises.

New face every century or so—how can they ever connect the scattered puzzle pieces? She saw through the mess; blue-eyed soldier, now grinning brown-eyed stranger.

No, not a stranger—for he is the same man, same memories. But he hides his emotions, grimaces sliding under smiles, clouds slipping silently over the too-bright sun.

He has her, she has him, and here they are.

Forever, she promises.

For once, this isn't a vow he breaks, but one that she does.

She promised!

The brown-eyed man hasn't gotten any better, only excellent at hiding his feelings. A man that saves the universe curses it.

Maybe it's worth it, maybe he doesn't have anything to lose. But he does.

Because in the end, he lost her.

People forget him; he never forgets them. He'll walk by them on the street, a familiar stranger.

A glimmer passes in their faces: oh, dear one, do I know you?

No, you don't, the look in his eyes sadly replies.

And the worst is their promises.

Her promises.

Eventually, he lets them—her—down. The Doctor never means to, never wants to. But every flower he holds, no matter how delicately, wilts. She didn't, Rose didn't—Rose stayed bright and strong.

It didn't last.

The sand is too real, the wind too strong; he can't feel any of it. It hits her though, her blond hair flashing around her face, sticking to her tears. He tries to hold onto her words, his words, but they slip past him.

He wonders if he can kiss her now.

But she can't feel him and he can't feel her. She's not really there and neither is he: just an image burning up a supernova to say goodbye.

How could he kiss her? He's only a watercolor painting, washing away as the rain comes. He can't kiss her. Kissing her means giving up. Means he won't ever touch her again—so what does he have to lose?

He's not losing her, he can't lose her—so he won't kiss her. But oh, he wants to.

Needs to, wants to, can't.

Don't forget me, he howls.

I won't, she promises.

Will this be another broken vow? But a man and a woman who save the universe can find a way to defeat it.

No happy ending, no knight, no white horse—just two not-at-all-ordinary people standing on a beach in Norway, with their stolen time.

He lives in a patchwork of forgotten people and promises. Only she won't stay forgotten, and her promise will live on.

Is it today? The man asks the universe.

So far the only answer he has gotten is a no.

But it's another day, and he gets up, walks forward to save a civilization in his magic blue box.

You hear me, universe? I'm still here! And she's still there! And one day, here and there will cross, and—do you hear me?

We'll meet again! He shouts it from the stars.

The stars sympathize, ache, and look down at the separated lovers. Gently, they whisper his message to her.

And she shouts it right back at the universe.

They aren't giving up yet. Just watch.

Oh, just watch, they whisper to the stars. Show's not over.

A/N: Because try as I might, I cannot write a one-shot that ends in a complete loss of hope. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm working on that.

Anyway, thoughts would be greatly appreciated. I'm not sure about this; did it make sense overall, etc? Comments would be nice.

Or fantastic. Like grilled cheese. Grilled cheese is rather brilliant. So are reviews. You can see the connection.

:)