• We sit in the car outside your house, whoah
I can feel the heat coming ’round
I go to put my arm around you
And you give me a look like I’m way out of bounds
Well you let out one of your bored sighs
Well lately when I look into your eyes
I’m goin’ down...
We get dressed up and we go out, baby, for the night
We come home early burning burning, burning in some fire fight
I’m sick and tired of you setting me up, yeah
Setting me up just to knock-a knock-a knock-a me down
I’m goin’ down.... •
It's a warm summer night and they are watching a planet burn.
They can't travel to all of the places one of them wants to go to without some sort of compromise. His compromise is the occasional viewing of a dying world or a collapsing star.
Something to silence the drums. Anything to quiet them, just a little while longer.
"Can't you hear them?" one asks the other.
"You know I can't," is the quick reply.
They both have ice cream as they sit, legs dangling out of the hovering TARDIS, but only one of them eats it. The other thinks it is far too sweet, and there's no real reason to sweeten a moment as terrible as this.
"How many die?" he asks, breathless at the destruction below them.
"Does it matter?"
"Of course it matters," he says. "It's important to know the numbers. The people you didn't save."
"The people you didn't save for me." He smiles, victorious in his own way. "That's very nearly romantic, you know."
"You would think so."
He finishes up his ice cream and takes his uneaten companion's. If he were the sort to worry about his weight, he might be concerned about this gorging, but his metabolism is far too fast in this incarnation, and he's feeling far too guilty to care.
"We can't stay like this."
"No, I'll move the TARDIS once the flames reach this level of the sky."
"You and I, like this. I can't be your prisoner forever." It's one of his more lucid moments, and when he speaks his words are quiet and threatening. The quiet is always worse than the loud. The quiet comes with the knowledge that it will be loud soon, and no matter how much the quiet is savored, it will always, always end.
No, of course they can't stay like this. It isn't forever.
One of them stopped dealing in absolutes when he lost someone he was idiotic enough to believe he could have forever. The other never gave up on absolutes, even when he should've. But they'll cling, in their strange way, for as long as they can.
The flames lick across the surface of the world. Everyone is dead, there are no more minds crying out for help, begging for release. In a way, they've dried up this resource, sucked the bad from it that one of them needs to be calm.
"Can't you hear them?"
"You know I can't."
There's a quiet chuckle, followed by a loud sigh.
"I don't think you're trying."
Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 420
Based on RP with best_served_hot