Triple drabble, written for the 100 Themes Challenge, prompt #70 - 67%.

Reviews and concrit are sticky summer love. ;D

~.o0o.~

Triad

He didn't want it at first, a third party to their footloose duo. But the idea grew on him quickly, and it is hard to imagine that their three had ever been two.

Two points make a line, but three points make a shape, a triangle. Balance is simpler with a third weight to slide as needed. A tricycle is easier to ride than a bicycle; it's more stable. This life is better with two, but it becomes fantastic with three.

He feels his hearts break a little when things change and he can't face it. I'm so sorry, Jack.

~o0o~

She picks up the pieces and tries not to mourn the Captain shaped hole in the TARDIS. He's not dead, he's just gone.

It feels selfish to want him back, a piece of something she can understand when everything else is shifting. She cannot call it normal; their trio was never that.

She still takes the Doctor's hand, but when she reaches out to her other side, her palm is empty and cold. Two coats, leather and grey wool, take a place in her wardrobe. If he ever sees them wrapped around her like blankets during the bad nights, he says nothing.

~o0o~

The end of the universe, in more ways than one. She's not dead, but she's not ever coming back, and it hurts just as badly. Triply so when he learns what she did; saving him, saving them all.

Two makes a couple, but the three of them, together, were a family. Family is supposed to be forever, they say. But not this time-only he is.

There are still three, but the triangle is acute, not right. The shape is not going to hold. They are only operating on 67%, the Doctor and him, and their broken parts no longer mesh.