Reader Inserts (Requests Closed)

Tenth Doctor x Reader

The three claw marks that tore through your shirt were quite enough to tell the Doctor what had happened. Oh yes, it was quite bloody- if you were conscious, you would have jokingly wished that you hadn't worn white that day. The Doctor tried to imagine you saying that and laughing off the severe injuries and blood loss; it was better than staring down at your lifeless face. He pressed two fingers to your neck to feel for a pulse- nothing. You were colder than the TARDIS that would take him far away from your dead body, leaving your final resting place a cold and strange planet you were probably thrilled to visit. Even though he didn't want to think he would, the Doctor would probably take another companion to this place with giant, terrifying beasts with claws as big and as powerful as wind turbines. Perhaps he would learn his lesson and exercise more caution. He hoped that they would stay near him for whatever reason- fear, shock, the fact that they fancied him.  However, the young and attractive women he typically plucked from their boring lives would run off on their own. They'd end up in trouble and come running back to him. Your sobering death made him realize that the routine was both boring and dangerous. He was tired of saving young women's lives, and it was dangerous to put them in that situation. 

A biting wind told him to make this mourning ceremony quick. He sat down in the snow, next to your body.

"I'm sorry," he said, but the words felt bittersweet and insincere. The Doctor knew that the dead wouldn't accept apologies as readily as the living would; at least that's what the obligation of death had whispered in his ear every time he saw a casualty. 'They'll never forgive you,' it said if he had caused the death. 'You're just another cog in the murder machine.' If he hadn't caused the death, it would ask him, tauntingly: 'Let me guess. There was nothing to be done.' 

"There was nothing I could do," he reassured himself. "Those beasts don't have any morals. They didn't know what they were doing." 

The Doctor wasn't in love with you, or at least he didn't think he was. Last time he checked, it was only Rose in this incarnation, and she was on a beach somewhere with another version of him. However, you had quite the thing for him. It was ridiculous and obvious, how much you'd fancied him. The way you looked at him, practically interrogated him about his past, hugged him- everything! It was all so obvious. You weren't any different from Martha or Rose or even Donna. He sighed, running a hand through the hair you liked to ruffle so often. 'All in all, it's just another brick in the wall,' he reasoned. 

He had overstayed his welcome. The beasts responsible for your death were roaring in the distance, challenging whatever intruder decided would wander into its nest to take a look at its cute babies. Involuntarily, the Doctor opened the TARDIS doors with the snap of his fingers. He stepped inside and shut the doors behind him, leaving your body to be buried in the harsh and snowy climate. Hopefully you'd rest in peace, and rest well. The Doctor leaned over the TARDIS console, staring into his own eyes in the reflection. 

So the Doctor went, back to London, where he'd sweep another young maiden off her feet and whisk her away to her inevitable death. He would travel alone, but he was once told that he could not do that so easily. Him alone with his thoughts, it was not a good combination.

Oh, companionship. Perhaps it was too much to ask for when you're a time traveler.