Eyes
folder
1 through F › Doctor Who
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,870
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
1 through F › Doctor Who
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,870
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Doctor Who Nor the Charachers there in. I'm not that lucky. BBC and R.T.D are the lucky ones. They get the money not me.
Eyes
He met his eyes, looked deep into him. Found himself looking past the colour and looking into the man, into the person that always made him question himself. 'What do you want?' he wanted to ask but there wasn't words in his mouth. He didn't have the air to ask them, the room felt like it was spinning, the moment that this man had walked into the room all the air had sucked right out again.
Neither of them were speaking, either of them were moving and perhaps it was because it was his job to say something. Perhaps because it was his job to move across the room do the right thing or do the wrong thing. He was always the one to act first. He didn't want to be the one to act. Why couldn't he be the one to take his time once in a while? He gave a slowly steady nod in way of a greeting perhaps that would work?
Maybe that would make the other say something? It almost hurt watching the other stand there so still so quiet, watching him with those old eyes that knew everything, always knew everything always could cut him up with so many pieces and knew every little thing about him and never let him get away with anything. Wasn't he suppose to be strong one? Wasn't he suppose to be the one that lead people and change them any ways?
Shouldn't they be happy to see each other? Its been such a long time sense they laid bare eyes on each other, sense they touched, sense they their lungs exchanged air and they were able to be in touching distance with out a phone or a computer screen between them. Was there really so many sins between them now that nether could speak in fear that the first thing said would be a confession?
They were both heroes. They were both monsters. They both had so much blood on their hands, and he was very sure the blood would never come off his hands and very sure that this man would always have the same problem. If he let himself maybe if he just let himself he would just let himself talk to him. Tell him what happened. But that would be telling, then there would be judging then there would be fighting, and maybe he would lose something with this one or gain something. He wasn't sure he wanted because he wasn't scared where it would lead.
--
They spoke each other's name at the same time a mixture of “Jack” and “Doctor” that seem to fall just easy off each others lips. They didn't really need to say much more then that to be able to fall into their old rolls there would be time to find out what had been happening with each other's lives after that. They could talk about the darkness, the pain, when what ever needed to be done was done.
Share what ever needed to be shared. It didn't needed be done when they had to be on. They had be on, they needed to work through being with each other first they needed to be able to see that other couldn't and could tell that they were still the same and still very different from the first time they had first met. It was odd how they could read each other. They both knew what questions not to ask and when it was okay to really let go with what they felt needed to be said.
Sometimes it took years and a whole another meeting for things to get said, or things didn't get said at all, or someone else stepping on their foot make them talk. Poor Martha got that job a few times.
--
He kisses him and it feels like forever. He touches him and it feels like he never wants to let go. They both know each other so well. So very different, one human and the other a time lord, yet there are things both have seen. Both of them have done that no one else will understand.
He can reach inside, looking into his eyes and look past the eye colour, look into him and see what he means with out words. He can see the smile and the tears when he isn't. He feel the way he breathes when he is across the room. Sometimes they travel together, can't get enough of each other pressing tight together because they can't get enough.
The only other person that will ever understand. The only other person who will never leave. Pressing warm and cool hands together as they run. Other times they break a part fighting because they get sick of each others company needing to spend time part, needing to wondering a little bit away so that they can find each other again.
Its sad they know there will be a time then there will be a time when one of them wont come home. When it will be just one of them, one mind instead of two, one heart instead of three, but he'll make it all last. He'll make it all count, because he had him. He'll make them remember the name, because he knows what he has to do.
Live.
- Fin.
Neither of them were speaking, either of them were moving and perhaps it was because it was his job to say something. Perhaps because it was his job to move across the room do the right thing or do the wrong thing. He was always the one to act first. He didn't want to be the one to act. Why couldn't he be the one to take his time once in a while? He gave a slowly steady nod in way of a greeting perhaps that would work?
Maybe that would make the other say something? It almost hurt watching the other stand there so still so quiet, watching him with those old eyes that knew everything, always knew everything always could cut him up with so many pieces and knew every little thing about him and never let him get away with anything. Wasn't he suppose to be strong one? Wasn't he suppose to be the one that lead people and change them any ways?
Shouldn't they be happy to see each other? Its been such a long time sense they laid bare eyes on each other, sense they touched, sense they their lungs exchanged air and they were able to be in touching distance with out a phone or a computer screen between them. Was there really so many sins between them now that nether could speak in fear that the first thing said would be a confession?
They were both heroes. They were both monsters. They both had so much blood on their hands, and he was very sure the blood would never come off his hands and very sure that this man would always have the same problem. If he let himself maybe if he just let himself he would just let himself talk to him. Tell him what happened. But that would be telling, then there would be judging then there would be fighting, and maybe he would lose something with this one or gain something. He wasn't sure he wanted because he wasn't scared where it would lead.
--
They spoke each other's name at the same time a mixture of “Jack” and “Doctor” that seem to fall just easy off each others lips. They didn't really need to say much more then that to be able to fall into their old rolls there would be time to find out what had been happening with each other's lives after that. They could talk about the darkness, the pain, when what ever needed to be done was done.
Share what ever needed to be shared. It didn't needed be done when they had to be on. They had be on, they needed to work through being with each other first they needed to be able to see that other couldn't and could tell that they were still the same and still very different from the first time they had first met. It was odd how they could read each other. They both knew what questions not to ask and when it was okay to really let go with what they felt needed to be said.
Sometimes it took years and a whole another meeting for things to get said, or things didn't get said at all, or someone else stepping on their foot make them talk. Poor Martha got that job a few times.
--
He kisses him and it feels like forever. He touches him and it feels like he never wants to let go. They both know each other so well. So very different, one human and the other a time lord, yet there are things both have seen. Both of them have done that no one else will understand.
He can reach inside, looking into his eyes and look past the eye colour, look into him and see what he means with out words. He can see the smile and the tears when he isn't. He feel the way he breathes when he is across the room. Sometimes they travel together, can't get enough of each other pressing tight together because they can't get enough.
The only other person that will ever understand. The only other person who will never leave. Pressing warm and cool hands together as they run. Other times they break a part fighting because they get sick of each others company needing to spend time part, needing to wondering a little bit away so that they can find each other again.
Its sad they know there will be a time then there will be a time when one of them wont come home. When it will be just one of them, one mind instead of two, one heart instead of three, but he'll make it all last. He'll make it all count, because he had him. He'll make them remember the name, because he knows what he has to do.
Live.
- Fin.