Title: 11 Reasons He had Lied to Himself

Author: Wish Wielder

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing / Character Focus: Doctor x Rose

Challenge: 11 Reasons

Theme / Prompt: N/A (Add. prologue; no theme for this part.)

Word Count: N/A

Rating: T / PG-13

Summary: It had taken him two minutes on the parallel of this desolate beach to finally stop lying to himself, and it would take the rest of his life to figure out just why he had ever started in the first place. But, standing on those black rocks and feeling those ghostly imprints of the universe next door, he had a pretty good idea of where to start.

Notes: Set during both S1 & S2, and S3-after. Also: unlike my other thememunity challenges, this fic goes together as one fic. The chapters are related, even if they don't entirely seem it.

Disclaimer: "Doctor Who" and all respective properties are © the BBC. Megan D. (Wish Wielder) does not, has never, nor will ever own "Doctor Who".

11 Reasons He had Lied to Himself

Prologue: He Walks the Sands…

It never changed, no matter how many times he walked its sands. It didn't matter what time period – no matter the day, week, month, year, season, it always remained the same. Cold, and gray, and lonely. It was a bitter pill, a dead reminder to a memory that was still so alive, in his heart and in that world.

Dälig ulv Stranden. Bad Wolf Bay.

There was a time, not so very long ago, when he couldn't even think of coming here. He would return unwillingly every time he dared dream, to cold and dead and tears, waking in a breathless panic with those unspoken words still on his lips. His dreams were enough – too much, even. He wanted as far away from the memories as he could. He didn't want to go back to standing there, looking at where she should have always been. He didn't want to remember that she was gone.

But it had happened, right after his last companion had left. He had gone, hurtling off into the vortex without any set destination, and his beautiful ship had landed him there. She had known, even when he hadn't; he needed to stand there, on those rocks where he could feel shadows of his perfect Rose, looking out at the sweeping tide much as she probably had that day. He had needed to remember, even when he had run so hard and far from it.

And now he cherished the memories, taking in the bad as as wonderful and glorious as the good. He always came back, at least monthly, to that place – their place. He came and he stood and he remembered, allowing himself to slip back into those two years they had before the Universe turned cruel. He would close his eyes and return to a shaking closet underneath Downing Street, a game station swarming with Daleks, a mistletoe-coated library in a 1879 manor, a blindingly white wall at the top of Torchwood Tower – a windy beach fifty miles out of Bergen in Norway. He would close his eyes and remember, and for just a moment he would again live – really, truly live.

It had taken an organization of power-hungry humans to make him realize just what he had in Rose Tyler. It had taken death and loss and sealed walls to make him stop the lies, because that's all he had done for two years.

He had grabbed her hand, and he had told himself that shock of electricity was just battle-induced adrenaline.

He had pinpointed every little nuance and mannerism, and he had told himself that it was just his clever mind being observant.

He had promised her mother he would keep her safe, and he had told himself it was just to get her to stop nagging.

He had sent her home, and he had told himself he was just making good on that promise.

He had kissed her, and he had told himself it was just to save her life.

He had loved another, and he had told himself it had nothing to do with his fear of loving her.

He had crushed her with hugs, and he had told himself the fluttering in his stomach was just a bad sandwich.

He had heard forever, and he had told himself his hearts raced for fear of what would happen to her when she couldn't keep it.

He had sent her away, and he had told himself he didn't really kill himself in the process.

He had burnt up a sun to say goodbye, and he had told himself it was because it was the least she deserved.

He had heard her tear-choked confession, and he had run out of time.

It had taken him two minutes on the parallel of this desolate beach to finally stop lying to himself, and it would take the rest of his life to figure out just why he had ever started in the first place.

But, standing on those black rocks and feeling those ghostly imprints of the universe next door, he had a pretty good idea of where to start.

A.n.: I know I'm already doing way too many thememunity challenges, but I stumbled upon this comm, saw the theme lists, and I couldn't say no. It didn't help when this idea just slammed into me with all the force of one of the Doctor's landings. Anyway, like I said: this first bit is just the prologue – it was not following any of the selected themes (and yes, I did get prior approval to start this way). That being said…I really hope you guys enjoy this one, and I really hope it comes out as good as it sounds in my head.