Ashes of Survival
by Camilla Sandman

Disclaimer: Doctor Who in his various incarnations belong to BBC. I am merely their devoted drooler.

Author's Note: This is for Saz, who wanted naughtiness (check!), them being tied up (check!) and no Jack (check!). The rest is from my slightly kinky brain. No Jack means it's set before "The Empty Child", but definitely after "Dalek". It can be considered an AU of sorts. Descriptions of Gallifrey seemed to vary within the sources I looked at, and I've thusly had to pick and match a little.

Rating: R

II

Part One

II

This, he thinks, is a perfect morning. Green and blue of forests and ocean all glimmering in the dawning sun, the planet spinning under him in an eternal dance of space and time. He sings with it, as he always does, sings the words the Universe shines with.

This will be a perfect day, as all days are because they're never the same. The last perfect day.

And the sun roars and it is not the sun after all, not the dawn. Fire is coming from the sky. Fire is coming. Fire is here.

He screams.

The last perfect day ends.

Afterwards, there is no song. Only the lone howl as the dance goes on, silent in space.

II

Rose had almost gotten used to the fall through time and space by thinking of it as a lift drop where the floors were never announced and it never slowed down to stop until there. One TARDIS, going down...

"And what are we chasing this time?" she asked, clinging onto the console and trying not to fall ungracefully on her ass. He'd probably enjoy that too much. He certainly had all the other times.

"Distress call through time," he replied, looking up at the green light of the TARDIS and she could see the light mirror in his eyes. Sometimes, she wasn't sure where the TARDIS ended and he begun.

"You do remember what happened the last time we answered a distress call?"

"I never forget."

The TARDIS came to an abrupt stop and she did fall after all, the steel grids greeting her with hard familiarity.

"You need a pillow there?" he asked, smiling just slightly.

"I wouldn't need one if you steered this thing a little less like a drunk driver across a field of cabbage," she shot back, struggling to her feet. "Where are we, then?"

"The planet of Breidablik. Home to the tallest mountain in their time of the Universe."

"Please tell me we're not climbing it."

"We'll see," he replied non-reassuringly, and moved towards the door. "Coming, Rose Tyler?"

"Right on your ass," she muttered and followed, taking care to check out his ass as she walked. Yep, it was more than adequate to be at.

It was a different kind of sunlight that greeted her as they stepped out. It seemed to glimmer more, as if the air itself was reflecting it. It almost felt as if she could trap it between her hands, like water or sand, or watch it melt on her skin like snow.

"It's the atmosphere that does it," the Doctor explained, smiling at her awe.

She smiled back, because joy was better with two and sometimes it seemed he could find pleasure in merely being the mirror of all the pleasure and awe she'd feel.

"It's a bit like being high on mushrooms," she observed.

"I'm not even going to ask how you know that. Right, then. Let's save the day, shall we?"

"I would never disagree with a doctor."

"Except when you do."

"Of course."

As they walked, she realized it wasn't grass they were walking on, but that the ground itself was green, perhaps even alive. But the trees were more like home, almost reminding her of pines. The smell was slightly off, though. It felt sweeter, almost fruity. It made her wonder if the trees themselves were edible. She better work on her not-surprised face if the Doctor decided to take a nibble. He was getting far too much joy out of throwing her off-balance as it was.

One of these days, she would have to return the favour.

"So what's the distress on this planet, you think?" she asked, squinting ahead. "Alien invasion? Mushroom shortage? Cat on the loose, like at Pronia?"

"If you have mice genes, a cat would be a reason for distress," he pointed out. "Bloody cat scratched me, too. Some help you were, just laughing hysterically."

"You're just mad I didn't kiss it better."

"You still owe me for that one."

"What, a kiss or some help?"

He didn't answer, staring distractedly at the sky and she realised whatever the distress was, it was unlikely to be as simple to solve as catching a cat. He was sensing something wrong and he was usually right about those things. (She'd say always, but that would give him delusions of grandeur. Well, more of them.)

"What is it?"

"You smell that?" he asked intensely, hands in his pockets and mind somewhere in the passing of time, trying to spot the shadow. "Burning... Ashes... Flesh..."

"You've come."

The voice was was melodious and even before she turned, she had a sense of something beautiful speaking. She wasn't disappointed.

He was tall and fair, pale silver of skin and eyes as green as the planet they were standing on. His hair seemed more a mane, growing down his whole neck and his nose was thin and indistinct. Only his lips seemed human, curved in a faint smile.

"I am Baldr," he went on, bowing low. "Welcome to my planet. You must have come a long way."

"I'm Rose Tyler. He's the Doctor," she replied, throwing a quick look at the Doctor, who still seemed distant.

"I am honoured you have shared your names with me, Rose Tyler and the Doctor. Please, may you share a meal with me in my home? You have answered my call, now you'll wish to hear the cause."

"This planet burned," the Doctor said, and his eyes fell on Baldr. "Didn't it?"

For a moment, there was only the slightly hum of sunlight and something burning between the two, something she couldn't quite make out.

"Yes," Baldr finally said and the burning was in his voice. "And I need your help."

II

Ashes. So much ashes, mixing with the dust, burning in his eyes and mouth. The funeral cape of his people, his planet. All dead. All ashes. All dust.

All but him.

He wants to scream, but there is sound left in him. He's screamed out his grief in the fire and ashes are silent. Like leaves, they fall silent. Only in his mind are the screaming, screaming with the voices of his people.

This is death. This is the silence after fire.

Why does he live? Why?

Ashes and dust and no answer in the silence. Never any answer.

He isn't sure there is one anymore.

II

She wasn't sure quite what she expected Baldr would live in, but a house almost like a skyscraper of London was not it. The light shone off it, blinding her and only the Doctor's offered hand kept her from walking into it several times. It would hardly make a dashing first impression. And somehow, she did want to make an impression.

Baldr was looking at her, she was certain. She could feel his gaze, cool where the sun was warm, taking in every detail - her face, her clothes (maybe pink today hadn't been such a bright idea after all), her feet, her hand clasped in the Doctor's. If she didn't know any better, she'd think she was being sized up. Then again, perhaps it was merely an alien way of saying 'how do you do'?

"Once, there was a million buildings such as this, all higher and brighter. But such as it is, I offer my home," Baldr said, drawing a finger across the glass and then stepping through it. She had only a moment to stare before the Doctor pulled her along and through, the glass becoming air again behind them.

Inside, it was all green and silver and sunlight, but faded sunlight and she could look around without having to blink too much. Stairs and alcoves reached far up, spiralling in patterns. It reminded her of a stretched out slinkie in some ways, and the sunlight seemed to spiral around it too.

"You are perhaps tired and hungry after such a trip," Baldr said softly and Rose was about to assure him it was not the case when she felt the Doctor look at her. She knew a warning sign from him when she saw one.

"Yes, that'd be fantastic," the Doctor said brightly, smiling. "Right, Rose?"

"Definitely," she added, trying to mimic the cheerful tone. If the Doctor was being this cheerful, it either meant something was very, very exciting, or very, very wrong. Or both.

"My... Helpers will show you where to dine and rest. If you will excuse me..." Bowing low again, Baldr withdrew, seemingly to her stepping into glass and being swallowed by it.

"How does he do that?" she asked, looking up at the Doctor, who looked less impressed than her.

"They can harden sunlight to a substance. It's complicated. He's just showing off."

"Takes one to know one, huh?"

"Yes."

She grinned, just as something she could only describe as a shadow of light seemed to glide up next to them and motion them to follow. Baldr's helpers, she supposed, and from the Doctor's slight eyeroll, she supposed this was also a showing off.

Which made her wonder - who was Baldr showing off to, exactly? And why?

II

Before and after, he thinks. There is a before and after him, a before and after life, a before and after planet. Before the fire, after the fire. And all he can see is the after and the dust, stretching on until death in the ashes.

The before is dead. Long mourn the after.

II

She awoke with a blinding headache, tearing through her mind like a firestorm. So many flames... So many... Too many. The sky was falling. The sky was fire. The sky... There was no sky.

Gasping, she managed to let the sensation pass. There was no fire, only the unfamiliar roof of glass and the unfamiliar bed. Why was she even in bed? She had been walking with the Doctor when... There was light, light they had walked into and then fire and then this.

Oh shit, the Doctor!

She bolted out of bed and fumbled around till she found a door, hitting her toe and cursing in process. It was dark now, and the light-as-glass felt cool. A faint glow still seemed to linger in the air, but she couldn't indentify the source. It was still enough to make her spot the Doctor, leaning over a railing and looking down.

She breathed in relief. Maybe she'd just gotten drunk at the meal and the Doctor had put her to bed. Maybe. "Doctor?"

When he turned, she knew something was seriously wrong. He wasn't looking at her, wasn't looking at anything but whatever was raging inside him. Almost sleepwalking, eyes wide open.

"Doctor?"

He staggered, still not looking at her. "Fire.... Ashes... Dust... Burning. Oh, burning."

When she reached out to touch him, she nearly gasped in pain and pulled her hand back. His skin was burning, almost as if flames raged underneath it. Almost as if he was the burn.

Right. What did you do when an alien was sick? Cold baths? Aspirins? Insincere-poor-yous?

"Gallifrey," he said and the pain in his voice made her breath feel like sharp glass being swallowed, bleeding her. "It burned too. All dead. All ashes."

"No," she said forcefully. "Not all ashes. You're here."

"Couldn't save Gallifrey. Must save this. Must... Rose?" He looked at her now, and she almost wished he hadn't. So much pain there, and she couldn't even begin to touch it. All she could do was clutch his hand and suddenly, the fire was in her too, the fire was the sky, the sky was orange and amber and all she could think was not to let go.

"Gallifrey burned," the Doctor said, and she screamed.

The fire was coming.



Part Two

II

Remember...

The last must remember. He must remember. If he cannot remember, it will be gone, and the ashes will just be ashes, not the embers of the past. If he cannot remember, they'll all be dead.

He remembers, and it's killing him.

II

The sky was burning, a firestorm like she'd never imagined. This was a fire that didn't die. This was a fire of time. And she screamed at the roar of it, screamed while the Doctor stood perfectly still by her side, eyes burning too.

How could anyone live with the memory of this?

His hand was still burning in hers and she realised whatever was wrong with him, it had to be tied to this.

"Let it go, Doctor. You're burning up here. Let it go."

"It burned."

"Yeah. But you don't have to."

He was still staring ahead and she could only really think of one way to get his attention. It had worked on Mickey during the football, at least. A Time Lord was still a bloke, right?

She kissed him. His lips burned her, but she didn't pull away, only pulled him closer to her. He didn't resist, his hands coming to rest on her back, his heartbeats in her skin drowning out the roar of the flames. He was kissing her and all she could do was cling on.

"Rose?" he whispered after a moment, his breath cool against her lips. The fire in the sky was gone, she realised, and wherever he'd taken her, imagined or otherwise, it was gone now.

"I'm here."

"I think I'm sick," he said and collapsed against her. She had to use all her strength not to fall over herself with the weight of him.

"You really do know how to flatter a girl," she said to the air and could almost swear the air hummed in agreement.

II

It's become a pattern in the night.

He dreams about changes. His changes. He dreams about plucking the fire out of the sky, making the past the future, a loop of time in eternity. No one needs to die. No one needs to burn. It can all be as he wants it to be.

Just this once, everyone can live.

But dreams end and the grief tastes of ashes still when morning comes.

II

After a while, it had almost felt natural to let herself rest in the bed next to him. She was tired enough after dragging him there, and the floor, shiny as it though might be, was not particulary soft. And close, she would be all the more ready to save him again if needed.

All logical reasons and nothing to do with the desire to feel his skin next to hers, and so she crawled in next to him, watching his sleeping face. He was still warm, but not the fierce burn of earlier. She hoped he wasn't dreaming. She knew what he dreamed of now.

Fire burning, Gallifrey burning. Past burning.

She found his hand and watched her fingers lace themselves in his, hoping somehow he could feel the gesture, wherever he was.

"Rose?"

She lifted her gaze to see his open eyes, faint blue in faint light. No fire and she thought the temptation to show her relief by kissing him breathless.

"You feeling all right, Doctor?"

"Yeah... I'm still looking like daft old me, aren't I?"

"Who else would you look like, you dork?"

"Ah. Just checking," he muttered, searching her face. She could tell he remembered what had happened from the faint air of embarrassment and the quick glance at her lips. "Did I hurt you?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Does matter," he insisted, lifting a hand to her cheek. "I'm sorry."

She nodded slowly and he smiled, the grin he could hide all the darkness in the world behind.

"Let's find our host and complain about the room service. Simply dreadful!" he declared, bolting up and on his feet. She could only follow and take his offered hand, her anchor in a mad lift ride of a lifetime. Of course, the anchor was as mad as everything else, possibly more so when he grinned. And still she clinged on.

Maybe she'd gone a little bit insane to be in this life with him.

"You think Baldr did this, then?" she asked as they passed through the halls and downwards. There was no signs of the 'helpers', which was probably just as well.

"Not that many suspects running around here," he remarked, giving the walls a hard look. "This is the spot."

"How do you...?" she started, but as the Doctor brought the sonic screwdriver up, she trailed off. The glass slid open and revealed the outside. "Show-off."

"Best show in the galaxy. Rose Tyler recommended, if I'm not mistaken."

"One star only. I'm not rising it to two until you learn to land the TARDIS smoother."

He grinned again as he pulled her out, but coming to a dead stop after only a few feet. This wasn't the forest they had walked through before. This was... Ashes and darkness. This was her dream.

"This wasn't here before," she said, watching the wind lift dust from the barren ground.

"Yeah, it was. We just didn't see it beyond the trees that were still growing. This world's dead."

"And I need you to make it live again," Baldr said, stepping out of the glass. He was still beautiful, but now she could see the scar of burns across his face and arm.

"And if I can't?" the Doctor asked, folding his arms.

"You are a Time Lord," Baldr countered, voice a burn. "You have a time ship. I sent the light into your minds to know you. I saw sympathy in hers. In yours, Doctor, I saw a mirror. You know my loss."

"Maybe. Maybe that's why I can't save yours."

"You deny yourself your planet, you deny yourself your people, you deny yourself her..." Baldr shook his head and Rose felt the Doctor's gaze burn on her, telling her what she'd rather always known. "You will not deny me."

"Yeah, I will, actually. What will you do about it?"

Bad question, Rose had the time to think as she felt the light close in. Bad, bad question.

II

He goes a little insane for a while, laughing at nothing, grinning at nothing. It keeps him from losing his mind completely. Give a little to keep the whole, as dark as it might be. Bleed a little and the heart might not burst with the pain of it all.

Maybe there is sanity in that.

Maybe there is life in that.

II

"I'm seriously thinking of taking back that star," Rose muttered and yanked slightly at the shackles binding her hands. "Getting tied up is losing its charm."

"Speak for yourself," the Doctor replied, shifting slightly beside her. He was in the same predicament as her, only on him it looked strangely attractive. At least they weren't tied to a wall, just locked in a room while Baldr was trying to track down and tinker with the TARDIS.

She had a good sense of how that would go.

"Great. I'm tied up with a kinky alien while another alien tries to steal a time machine."

"The TARDIS can look after itself," the Doctor replied calmly.

"So all I have to worry about is myself. Good to know."

"He's not a killer. He'll let us go eventually."

"So why are we not helping him, if he's such a nice fellow?"

"If this burned in the Time War, I can't... It can't be undone."

"No matter how much you want it?"

"Even a Time Lord can't have everything he wants."

"Doesn't mean he can have nothing he wants, either," she said softly and he looked up sharply.

"Is that what you want, Rose? The last Time Lord as your alien boyfriend?" he asked, sarcasm in his voice and she wanted to smack him.

"What if it is?"

"You'll grow old and I'll... Change. Where's the future in that?"

"900 years old and you're still an idot. Where's the future in anything? You're the one who's been taking me to the end of worlds and burned planets!" she shouted at him and he blinked at her, as if surprised at the force. "Everything comes to dust, remember? Maybe I at least want to go as a happy dust, as..."

"Rose Tyler, just shut it," he said softly and kissed her.

No fire this time, just the gentle pressure of his lips on hers. He allowed her time to pull back, and when she didn't, he deepened it, still slow and careful. No rush, just exploration, as if he had all the time in the world. She couldn't feel her breath or hear her heart, as if everything was still.

"Is this how Time Lords kiss?" she whispered, feeling his lips make a trail down her neck.

"Yes. That all right?"

"Fantastic," she muttered. He had somehow managed to free both of them and his hands were committing torture by touches, tracing every inch of her skin, removing her clothes as he went. Perhaps 900 years of living had certain advantages. He'd certainly picked up a skill or two.

"I thought Baldr took your sonic screwdriver," she muttered, pushing her hands up inside his sweater. Palms against his chest, she could feel two heartbeats, like thunder echoing thunder.

"After last time we got tied up, I hid a sonic key unlocker in my socks."

"Ah."

"Useful things, socks," he went on conversationally, letting her pull the jacket off. "I used to have a collection. I used to have a collection of scarves, too."

"Fascinating," she replied, lifting his arms and pulling his jumper off too. Skin exposed, she started her own exploration by lips, feeling the heartbeats thunder still.

"And jellybeans," he muttered, voice just slightly strained as she went lower and lower. "Lots of different colours... And licks... I mean tastes. I mean... I... Oh."

"Oh," she agreed, letting him guide her down on the discarded clothes, the weight of him over her like a shield against the world. Still trying to protect her, her Doctor. One day, she would have to return the favour.

"You sure you want this, Rose Tyler?" he whispered, braiding his fingers into her hair, his fingertips warm against her scalp. And she knew somehow, as clearly as she could see his thoughts, that he had denied himself her because it was better than her denying him.

"Just shut it and kiss me."

Amazingly, he did shut up. But he didn't let go, didn't pull back as he sunk into her, didn't look away, his gaze remaining locked in hers until she was thunder and lightning and bright, bright light flying...

II

He is trying to live in the after. At first, he can only bear the silence and the pain, but time is healing him, pulling at him. There is almost in the ashes something like a will to live. It grows, somehow it grows in just rocks and dust.

There must be something in the after, he thinks. There must be something in the ashes of survival.

There is him.

II

"So that's how a Time Lord does it, then."

"Yep. That all right?"

"Oh, shut up."

She could feel his smile without even looking, his head resting on her chest and her hand on his head, tracing patterns. The leather jacket was warm against her back, his skin warm against her front. It was, she decided, quite all right indeed.

Faintly, a rumble grew.

"Baldr back already?"

"Nope. That'd be the TARDIS, come as summoned."

"Should've known," she muttered, not bothering to look up to check if he was right. If he'd seen her starkers, it somehow didn't matter that the TARDIS would too. "And where are we going?"

"First, I'm getting my sonic screwdriver back. Then we're going to find out why this planet burned," he replied, and the fire was in his voice as he looked up at her and pressed a burning kiss to her lips. "And whether or not I can fix it."



Part Three

II

Maybe it doesn't have to be just him, he thinks.

Maybe he doesn't have to be alone. Maybe it doesn't have to be just him and the memories, slowly grinding him to death.

Maybe he can look for someone else. Maybe he can find. Maybe he can live.

Maybe there is hope.

Maybe that can be enough.

II

Breidablik, clad in green and sunlight, was stretching out beneath her, beautiful and doomed. It was almost more painful to see it like this than see it as the burned shell it had been, would be, was about to be. The TARDIS has taken them back before the burn to the planet that was and it was... Alive.

She could understand all too well the desire to stop what was to come.

The Doctor's hand was comforting in hers, but she wasn't quite sure who was comforting who.

"It's the light," he said distantly, watching a million houses reflect the sun at them. "They think they've mastered the sun, but they're shifting the balance of it. It's a solar flare. It's a solar flare that burns them. It had nothing to do with the Time War."

The relief in his voice was only mirrored by the pain.

"I cannot change this," he went on. "I could tell them all to stop, and they wouldn't listen. They're proud. They'll believe they know everything. They're... I know them, Rose. I can't save them. I'm sorry."

"Not your fault."

"Not this one," he whispered and she leaned against him, feeling his pain as her own.

II

There is her, he finds.

She's bright and young and beautiful and he can take her hand and take her into his world, into the ashes of what is. Maybe she'll even breathe life on it. Maybe she is life.

There is her hand and all he has to do is take it.

II

Baldr was waiting for them when they came out of the TARDIS where they'd gone into it in his time. He looked drained and paled, the green in his eyes faded. Whatever he was holding in his arms, she was fairly certain it wasn't good news.

It reminded her all too much of another last survivor, another raised gun, another threat to kill. But the Doctor hadn't pulled the trigger in the end. She was certainly hoping for a repeat performance.

"Knock that off," the Doctor said irritably, folding his arms. "Your people weren't killers."

"My people are dead."

"No excuse for being an idiot. And don't say anything, Rose," the Doctor replied, without even looking at her to see her opening her mouth.

Baldr seemed to shrink slightly, but the gun stayed raised. "Time Lord, I ask you again. Save my world."

"I can't. It's your sun that flares. Your planet's too close to it to not burn. You drew it closer to master even more sunlight. You build your world and doomed it too with light. There's only me left and I can't bend a sun. I can't help you."

"You could warn us. You could..."

"Kill you all before you kill yourself? You all use it. It's not enough that one stops."

"Explain to us, show us..."

"Would you believe me? Now, yes, but then?"

The silence stretched on, uncomfortable and loaded. Waiting. She could see Baldr struggle, his eyes almost grey now. Green to ashes, like his world. She knew the answer was no, as the Doctor did.

"I can't..." Baldr finally muttered, staring wildly at them. "I have to try. What else do I have?"

"Your life?" she offered. "You're still alive. What's the point in dying just because everyone else have?"

"You're human," Baldr said, as if not even listening to her. "Humans are compatible. We can bring my species back. We can bring it all back. And we'll make a shield this time, and we'll be as we were. We'll live. I can undo it."

"You're not having Rose," the Doctor cut in, stepping in front of her, as if to shield her.

"I can speak for myself, you know," she shot back, then paused. "What he said. You're not having me."

Baldr still wasn't listening, staring wildly ahead. At light, she realised.

Oh, no.

The sky was changing and so was she.

II

There is a choice, he's come to realise.

Before or after.

Before, remembering, always remembering, trying to find a way to make it come again. What is, shouldn't be. Undo the present, make way for the past.

After, remembering, always remembering, trying to find a way to make it hurt a little less every day. What is, is. Live in the present, make way past the past.

There's a choice and he's afraid.

II

The sky was bright, and Baldr's hand was warm. She stood still on the mountain and felt Breidablik beneath her, clad in green and sunlight, a million houses of glass shining at her. A million voices in the wind, laughing. And ever the sunlight, like water in her hand and trickling against her skin. She wanted to laugh at it, laugh with the delight.

Her world. Rose's world.

"Beautiful world we made," Baldr whispered against her ear.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is."

A million people alive because of her. Not just Rose, the shop assistant now. Rose, the bringer of life. Rose, the mother of a people. Rose, the savior. It had been meant to be. She had come to the planet for this. This was her life.

"I love you," he said, but the voice was wrong. The hand was wrong. Even the Rose was wrong. No. No, it was right. She was... She was...

"Rose!"

He was standing ten feet away and she could feel that she knew him, feel that her hand was used to holding his. She had kissed him, held him, watched pleasure burn on his face brighter than the sun.

"He's darkness," Baldr muttered, and she knew it was true. "I'm light. Stay with me."

"I..." she stared ahead, feeling memories fight their way past the delight. Darkness, oh yes. But also his hand and his skin and a thousand planets like this to see. Her Doctor. Rose's Doctor.

"Rose!"

"You let go of me, I die," Baldr insisted, clutching her hand so hard it hurt. "I need you, Rose of the humans. I'll never hurt you. He will."

"Yeah, he will. Doesn't matter. I'm sorry," she whispered, and let go. A million voices of laughter died and there was only Baldr's howl, pain and grief and ashes. She couldn't save him. He wasn't hers to save. But someone else might be and he was calling her name.

There might be hurt, but there was life, too.

She didn't look back as she ran and ran, ran until she felt strong arms close around her and the Doctor's voice against her ear.

"Come with me, Rose."

"Yes."

II

Always the coward, he thinks. Afraid even now. Afraid there is nothing left in the ashes and he's already a ghost. Afraid that the before is all he has and if he lets go...

There must be something in the after, he thinks. There must be something in the ashes of survival. There must be still a hand to take and miles to run.

There is a choice and he's making it.

Maybe it'll be enough.

II

She felt him approach before she heard him, his steps hesitant across the ashes. Silently, he sat down next to her, and after a heartbeat, she leaned against his shoulder.

"You didn't kill, you know," he said softly. "He was already dying. It wouldn't have been like he showed you."

It could be lies to protect her, she knew, but she had to believe them. The other option she wasn't strong enough for yet.

"He made his choice," the Doctor said firmly. "It wasn't your choice. It was always his."

"Did you make yours?"

He only smiled faintly and laced his fingers with her, holding her hand while the ashes were caught by the wind, rising, rising, rising almost like birds alive. And she remembered that her mother had once told her ashes and earth could make new life.

Maybe even on this planet.

Maybe even in him. Maybe even with the memories he carried.

His choice, maybe, but he wasn't the only one who could make one.

"Just me and you, then," she said, looking up at him and feeling his gaze hold her.

"Yep. Just the last Time Lord and his human girlfriend."

"Oh, shut up."

"I know a place you can get that tattooed."

"No."

"It could be somewhere only I could see it."

"You didn't even look at those places until recently!"

"I claim the idiot defence."

"Just shut it and kiss me."

"Yes."

And in the distance, the ashes fell to the earth and lay still.

Maybe it was enough, after all.

FIN