The Ninth incarnation of the infamous Doctor sweeps into your life in the cacophony of a German air raid, and in the bubbling aftermath of a failed con, he shouts, “For once, everybody lives!” with just the faintest leech of broken in his tone, and you feign interest in the blonde Cockney, but really. You feel the first stirrings of longing for the Time Lord in the beaten-up leather jacket with the lame tricked-out screwdriver that’s nothing compared to your sonic blaster, okay, but somehow.
Somehow, he gets to you anyways, so you run away with the explosion in tow and you’re ready to die for a man you just met, to ditch your entire life for a man with enough complexes to form a shopping center, and somehow. Somehow you still prepare of the inevitable with a martini and a smile on your face.
- - -
And then you throw your life away anyways, for the madman in his box, to go on an adventure with purpose, and then your life is gone again, and then you live, again, somewhat too effectively, this time.
- - -
The Tenth incarnation saunters into the picture after the blonde you pretended to fawn over fucked up beyond repair. Yeah, she saved your life, whatever. But she killed the Doctor, and as far as cosmic weight goes, he is far more significant than you. And, yeah, he comes back. But so did you. And the Doctor he is in his new flesh, he’s not the same one who flew his TARDIS into your stolen spaceship to save your life. He’s not the same Doctor as the one who shouted, “Everybody lives!” and he’s definitely not the same as the man that you grabbed and you kissed, because you could not go to certain death without knowing how it felt to have those lips against yours.
And even though this Doctor is not your Doctor, you chase him across time and space, anyways, because it’s better than nothing.
And when you finally meet up with him again, he abandons you, and he says, “Running from you is the best defence from whatever you’ve become.” And. And you let the Doctor down and you don’t want to deal with that, so you live your life the slow way, for a while.
- - -
The next time you see the Doctor, it’s because he tracked you down, and he says, “I’m tired of running from you,” and he says, “Come home,” and you shake your head, and he says, “If my hearts say I’m sorry, can we leave it at that?” and it’s the love you wished for all this time, but you shake your head again and the Doctor cries and you don’t and he kisses you and then he stops, and then he leaves, and the next time you see him, you hand him his hand and you never talk about it.
- - -
When you meet the Eleventh incarnation of your Doctor, you’re alone in the Torchwood base and everyone you loved is dead, one way or another, and you say, “I needed you,” and he says, “I know,” and you stick your tongue down his throat and fuck on top of your desk and try and fail not to cry. When you’re done, he pulls back and he kisses you and mutters he loved you but love had never managed to be enough, for you two, and you say you loved him back and he says, “Rory and Amy died,” and you say, “Ianto died,” and the Doctor sobs when he says goodbye, and you never see him again, in any incarnation.