Contrasting Tranquility |COMPLETE|

Chapter Sixteen

"True wisdom comes to each of us when we realise how little we understand about life, ourselves, and the world around us."

-Socrates

The Time Lord paced the control room, hands in his pockets, deep in thought. Or maybe not even at all. This wasn't a matter of thinking, it was a matter of feeling. But then again, how could he feel without thought? He had acted based on emotion before; and it fucked things up. And so he learned his lesson. Sometimes he wished he was emotionless, but then if that happened, the good things he did in his life wouldn't have come to fruition.

The good things.

The Doctor scoffed. Whatever good he had indeed done, was compensating for the bad. Because the bad overpowered the good, and what choice would one have, other than to try and make up for it? If he didn't, he'd lose himself. Become Time Lord Victorious. And he didn't want it.

But what did he want?

His planet? Gallifrey, to be back? Of course. He'd give anything for it. To have his family once more, his friends, his colleagues.

Anything?

Would he truly risk anything for the Time Lords to return? The pompous race, the all mighty Gods of the Galaxy? The ones that bathed in blood and rage and revenge? Ruthless people that could start the War anew?

Would he really wish that upon the Universe?

And yet he felt so alone. So many things seen, done and experienced. So much agony and death. The linger of destruction and slither of shame.

Shame.

The Doctor chuckled.

What a broad word. So many things one could be ashamed of. But his shame wasn't that simple, no. His shame inflicted torment, turmoil. It caused him to shake and lose his breath. And if he wasn't careful, tears.

When he first lost his planet, even the bare echo of his actions trembled his core. So he ran. Far away and as fast as he could, because dealing with it was much harder. An ache to not be escaped.

And then he met Rose.

The bright flower in the field of nothingness. She held his hand through it all, and unknowingly, saved his life. Where would the Doctor be if he never met her? Would he have become darkness and spite? Justice and perfection? Heartless?

How does one become heartless while possessing two of them? Turn them to ice; stop them from swelling with emotion?

By loving.

The stars, the moons and galaxies. Loving the air and Sun, the night and day, the chaos and stillness of existence. By loving the small things as much as the grandiose ones; the cosmos was vast, yet so filled with wonder. How could anyone see it all and not fall in love?

The world was a bitter place, maybe too bitter. But some people were worth the gloom.

For even in the face of mortality, their legacies would endure; a testament to their words and wisdom. Above all, they'd find eternal life through memories and emotions, as the echoes of their existence reverberate through time. The power of remembrance acting as a guiding force, a gentle whisper that continues to inspire and lead.

The Doctor was so scared of losing her. He yearned for her to stay as more than just a memory; needed her alive and safe. His intentions were supposed to be pure. Not filled with lust. With desire.