OS Prompt 39.3 - Return
Time Lords don't have graveyards, as such.
The idea of a field of decomposing bodies doesn't suit them at all, and the suggestion will, at best, receive a scoff.
They do, however, have a great hall of monuments to the dead.
The last time the Doctor was here, he was wracked by grief and uncertainty, and it was only a small, trembling hand that could pull him away into rekindled dreams.
"I'm ready, grandfather. We must go."
"Yes. Yes, of course, my dear."
He never thought he'd return.
Now he stands before it, saviour (tool) of Gallifrey, slayer (murderer) of Omega, favoured (tolerated) renegade, and feels distinctly out of place.
"I must say, Doctor, I didn't expect to see you again so soon."
Surprise, suspicion, in his old teacher's eyes.
"Nor I you, but I assure you, it's a personal visit."
A softening of voice and gaze.
"I see."
A moment of silence, stretching between them until it's ready to break.
"As President of Gallifrey, I order you to do whatever you like, provided you don't stir up trouble."
A wry smile from the wayward student.
"Me? Never."
It's a grand building, of course. Bigger on the inside, naturally, but the exterior is nothing to dismiss. No, the elegant spires sore above his head, the walls gleam in the amber sunlight, the doors are great and sturdy beneath his touch. Impenetrable, but to those with lost companions within.
They open for him, of course, and he suddenly feels very small indeed in his battered coat and alien trimmings.
They're here, somewhere. The family he failed, the pieces of him forever lost, the kin that sleep in his mind.
Oh, how he'd fought to give them that last honour, acceptance in death if nowhere else.
"You expect us to allow - "
"Yes, I do, and if you plan to argue with me we shall be here a very, very long time."
"She couldn't even manage to - "
"Oh, I wouldn't finish that sentence, Castellan."
He will fight for Hedin, soon. He would fight for Koschei. One day, he may fight for Susan.
He has as much right to be here as anyone, so why can't he bring himself to take those first steps?
"You're not the same man mother loved."
"Of course I'm not! Your mother is dead!"
Her sobs still echo in his mind, though her features have faded.
Everything has faded. Centuries and lives and eras have passed, and will continue to pass.
He doesn't belong here anymore, and as he turns away, he whispers one last goodbye.
The idea of a field of decomposing bodies doesn't suit them at all, and the suggestion will, at best, receive a scoff.
They do, however, have a great hall of monuments to the dead.
The last time the Doctor was here, he was wracked by grief and uncertainty, and it was only a small, trembling hand that could pull him away into rekindled dreams.
"I'm ready, grandfather. We must go."
"Yes. Yes, of course, my dear."
He never thought he'd return.
Now he stands before it, saviour (tool) of Gallifrey, slayer (murderer) of Omega, favoured (tolerated) renegade, and feels distinctly out of place.
"I must say, Doctor, I didn't expect to see you again so soon."
Surprise, suspicion, in his old teacher's eyes.
"Nor I you, but I assure you, it's a personal visit."
A softening of voice and gaze.
"I see."
A moment of silence, stretching between them until it's ready to break.
"As President of Gallifrey, I order you to do whatever you like, provided you don't stir up trouble."
A wry smile from the wayward student.
"Me? Never."
It's a grand building, of course. Bigger on the inside, naturally, but the exterior is nothing to dismiss. No, the elegant spires sore above his head, the walls gleam in the amber sunlight, the doors are great and sturdy beneath his touch. Impenetrable, but to those with lost companions within.
They open for him, of course, and he suddenly feels very small indeed in his battered coat and alien trimmings.
They're here, somewhere. The family he failed, the pieces of him forever lost, the kin that sleep in his mind.
Oh, how he'd fought to give them that last honour, acceptance in death if nowhere else.
"You expect us to allow - "
"Yes, I do, and if you plan to argue with me we shall be here a very, very long time."
"She couldn't even manage to - "
"Oh, I wouldn't finish that sentence, Castellan."
He will fight for Hedin, soon. He would fight for Koschei. One day, he may fight for Susan.
He has as much right to be here as anyone, so why can't he bring himself to take those first steps?
"You're not the same man mother loved."
"Of course I'm not! Your mother is dead!"
Her sobs still echo in his mind, though her features have faded.
Everything has faded. Centuries and lives and eras have passed, and will continue to pass.
He doesn't belong here anymore, and as he turns away, he whispers one last goodbye.