****Author's Note****
I'm happy to bring you my first real story since the Yin Yang trilogy. I'll warn you that it's pretty heavy, and kinda mushy. I would like to acknowledge my friend Robert Franks, aka TelesnapGuy, who had the original idea for this story and was gracious enough to allow me to expand it into a story. I also want to acknolwedge Jenifer Jennings Hancock, whose sig quote provided the title for this story. I hope you like it!
These events take place fairly soon after The Soul Gardens, within a year I'd say.
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Imtheochaidh sor is sor. A dtainig ariamh An ghealach is an ghrian. ("Everything that is and was will cease to be." --Gaelic Proverb)
GHEALACH by Lori Summers
"Ace! I can't find my copy of 'Debates on Realistic Subpragmatism!'" "It's on the nightstand!" she called from the console room, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. The TARDIS had landed on Allen Road and she was ready to leave, except her husband insisted on doing all his packing for the conference before he dropped her off. "I'd forget my own head if you didn't remind me to bring it," he'd said. She was more than ready for him to be off...but at the rate he was going he wouldn't be ready until the Second Coming. Finally he burst into the console room carrying a book-stuffed valise, his packing apparently complete. "Can I leave now?" she said with a cocked eyebrow. "Umm..." He turned in a circle, patting his pockets. "I think I have everything." He looked up at her. 'You're sure you don't want to come with me?" She rolled her eyes again. "A colonyful of dusty old scientific philosophers arguing over equally dusty old books? Positive." "I feel like I'm abandoning you," he said, frowning. She grabbed his hand and pulled him through the TARDIS doors into the bright sunshine. "Don't be daft. This is as good as a holiday," she said, motioning towards the isolated house with its spacious grounds. "My own private hotel. No visitors, no crises, no distractions." "You like distractions." "I have my limits," she said, hooking her arm through his as they walked up the flagstone path to the house. He produced a key and began to unlock the door but it swung open on its own. "This should be locked," he mused. "Well, I sort of unlocked it earlier. I've already moved my things in," she said. He cast her a sidelong glance. "I guess you really are eager for a break," he said. Ace had to laugh at his hangdog expression. "Oh, don't give me that 'poor me' look. It's not a break from *you*, it's a break from...you know, stuff." She turned serious and slipped an arm around his waist. "I would love it if you were going to stay here too, and I'll miss you dreadfully, but since you've got this conference thing I'm determined to enjoy myself on my own." "I'm sure you will," he said. They stood there in silence for a moment. "Well, go on! The conference awaits!" He kicked his feet at the ground in an "aw shucks" gesture and glanced up at her, sticking out his lower lip in an exaggerated "sad" face. She grinned and hugged him. "And don't worry about me, I'll be right here when you get back." The Doctor embraced his wife gratefully, still relishing her willingness to once again accept the title. "You know, I am a Time Lord," he said, pulling back to look at her. "Yeah, I've heard that." "I could come back from the conference in five minutes or a month. How much vacation time do you want?" She thought for a moment. "Hmm...I think a week. Any shorter wouldn't feel like a proper holiday, any longer I'd miss you too much." He looked at her closely for signs of sarcasm but found none. The sincerity of the sentiment threatened to make him a bit misty, so he just smiled and kissed her. "I love you," he said quietly. "I love you too," she replied, tweaking his nose as he'd so often done to her. "But if you don't get out of here I'll set the dogs on you." He grinned, clapped his hat on his head and started back to the TARDIS, but on impulse she grabbed his hand and pulled him back. "Listen...think of me, okay?" He smiled and touched her cheek. "Every minute." She kissed his cheek again and pushed him back onto the path, waving as he trotted to the TARDIS. He paused at the door to blow her a kiss, then disappeared into it. She heard the familiar sound of its departure as she stepped into the house and closed the door behind her. She stood in the foyer for a moment, just soaking up the silence. The house was kept up in the Doctor's absence by a caretaker who came by periodically to tend the gardens and clean. She'd been here a number of times and always loved it. It was such a warm and homey place, the sort of house where one imagined big family holiday gatherings and bedtime stories and lawn parties where the food was served out of big wicker picnic baskets. She picked up her valise and carried it upstairs to the master bedroom with its big mahogany four-poster bed and the view of the lake behind the house. She sat on the edge of the bed and closed her eyes for a moment, the sunlight streaming in the window warm upon her face. The bed was covered with big soft blankets and many deep pillows, and before she knew it, Ace had settled back into the softness and fallen asleep.
When she awoke, it was dark. Stretching like a cat, she smiled to herself and wondered how long it had been since she'd fallen asleep without meaning to. She yawned and padded downstairs in her stockinged feet. The house was shrouded in shadows and in spots bathed in an eerie pale light from the full moon outside. At the foot of the stairs Ace paused, a chill passing up her spine. She frowned, her eyes darting around the darkened ground floor, looking for a cause for the vague feeling of dread that had settled in her stomach. The house was silent and still. She shook it off and went to the living room to flip on some lights. She built a fire in the hearth and installed herself on the sofa with a book, an afghan and a big mug of hot cider, the momentary chill she'd felt but a hazy memory. She was really only half-reading the book, she kept getting distracted and would find herself just staring out the window onto the moonlit yard or looking into the flames, lost in thought. She hadn't thought she would, but she already missed the Doctor. Solitude encourages many thoughts both pleasant and melancholy, and she was buffeted between happy memories of fireworks and surprise receptions and the Rainbow Room and sad ones of the separation and...of Kathleen. She was jolted out of her thoughts by a sudden knock at the door that made her jump, spilling some cider on her shirt. She stood and brushed herself off, cursing under her breath and throwing the afghan to the couch. She peered out the window but she couldn't see the visitor from this angle and no vehicle was evident. Puzzled, she went to the door and opened it. A man was on the stoop. He fixed her with such an intense gaze that all she could do was stand there with her mouth open. He looked about 35. He had short sandy hair that fell over his face giving him a slightly tousled appearance. He wore small round glasses over his piercing blue eyes and his features were regular and fine. He was dressed casually, blue jeans with a white oxford shirt and a gray wool three-button vest that hung open. No matter...she recognized him instantly. Ace had no idea how long they stood there staring at each other. His expression was one of utter amazement at the sight of her. Finally she moved aside. "You'd better come in, Doctor," she said. He nodded and stepped over the threshold, heading for the living room. Ace watched him go. He moved fluidly, with a practiced grace that gave the sense of almost infinite age despite his youthful appearance. He sat down on an ottoman near the fire as she went back to her seat on the couch, picking up her mug. "I've been expecting you," she said softly...although until she had opened that door and seen him there, she'd been unaware that somewhere in the back of her mind she *had* been expecting him. He looked up at her, not surprised. "For how long?" His voice was low and soothing. She sighed. "I don't know. I think for a very long time. I must have always known...especially since the marriage...that one day you would show up on my doorstep when you knew my husband would be away." She stood and slowly went over to where he sat, pointedly looking away into the fire. She crouched in front of the ottoman and reached up to turn his face towards her, the glimmer of tears in his eyes. He gazed at her for a few moments, examining her features minutely, then he raised his hand slowly towards her face, his jaw clenching and his fingers visibly trembling. He hesitated, pulling the hand partway back, then took a deep breath and laid it on her cheek. With the contact he met her eyes, exhaled his held breath and pulled her up into his arms, clutching her so tightly she feared her ribs might crack, but she didn't mind. She hugged him back, her heart going out to him. It must have been very hard for him to finally decide to come here. "Ace, I'm sorry," he said into her shoulder, "but for me you are a such a long time dead. There hasn't been a day since that I didn't ache to hold you." She pulled back and examined his face closely. "Then you really are him. The last one." He nodded. "Sometimes it catches me by surprise. It's almost as if..." "You thought you'd live forever?" she finished. He smiled. "Yes. Of course you know that." He released her and stood up, leaning against the mantel to stare into the flames. "Do you know why I'm here?" he asked, so softly Ace had to strain to hear him. "I think so," she began, not quite sure how to continue. She joined him at the mantel, crossing her arms over her chest and cupping her elbows in her hands, feeling another chill despite the warmth of the fire. "It's almost over." He said nothing. "You know that...soon it will be the end." He silently reached over and took her hand. She gripped it tightly. "There's a situation. Very far from here. If I don't do something...well, let's just say I *must* do something." The simplicity of that statement touched her. No master plan, no contrived excuses...just something that needed to be done. "But if I do...it will cost me my life. I have been over it a thousand times. I can solve this particular problem, but at a very high price." He met her eyes, trying to communicate half a lifetime. "I'm willing to pay that price. No one can live forever, and I grow tired. I knew that this day would come...and this is as worthy a final act as I could have hoped for. Now I only need one thing." He turned to face her and took both of her hands in his. "I need you with me. Since your..." He swallowed hard. "Since I lost you, I have not allowed myself to ever visit you in the past. It seemed a cheat, and you deserved an honest, real death, not one that I could circumvent with my TARDIS." She nodded and gripped his fingers. It was odd to hear him discuss her own death, which for him was ancient history. "But I always knew that when my time came, I wanted you to be there...as I was there for you. I have gradually rid myself of companions as I felt the end approaching, for there is only one companion who should share my last adventure with me. You...my wife, my Ace." His sincerity and simplicity of expression was unlike her Doctor, but Ace warmed to it immediately. It was as if age had rid him of all desire for circumspection or obliqueness of speech. No eccentric costumes, no colorful hyperbole. He was without affectation or facade...she was seeing the simple expression of his thought. She smiled at him, reaching to swipe at her eyes. "What do you need me to do?" The Doctor's face creased into an agonizingly touched, relieved expression...then Ace was surprised to see his chin begin to tremble and his eyes mist up. He squeezed her hands tighter. "Gods, how I've missed you," he said in a hoarse, trembling voice that made Ace's heart ache. "You were the only one. I never loved anyone but you, ever." Two tears slipped free of his eyelids to trickle slowly down his smooth cheek. His pain resonated through her very soul, through the bond they shared even through this distance in time. "I've done so many things since I lost you, known many people and seen many places...but none of it was ever complete because I couldn't share it with you." Ace could stand it no longer. She dropped his hands and threw her arms around his neck. "I'm here now," she whispered. "I'll be with you now, and until the end." The Doctor held her tightly, every curve and line of her body as familiar to him as if he'd last touched her just yesterday...when in truth the last time had been the most terrible moment of his life.
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in the near future and the distant past...
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Julius McShane stood at the controls of his TARDIS, one of Romana's older models that she had given him for his own use. His cheerfully pleasant features were sagging in an uncharacteristic expression of sadness. He wasn't really paying attention to the controls but staring off into space, his thoughts far away. The vehicle would bring him to his sister's house without any help from him. The central column halted and Julius hit the dematerialization switch. He squared his shoulders and prepared himself to play the strong big brother role at which he was so practiced. The sun was shining as he stepped out of the TARDIS, now resembling a magnolia bush, into Charlotte's wide front yard. He walked slowly to the front door and knocked. After a moment, it was opened by Charlotte's wife Emma, a short slender woman with a bright shock of cheerful red hair. The sight of her helped his mood, as he'd hoped it would. He'd never seen Emma without a smile and a ready joke, and she was the sort of person who took any situation and made the very best of it....unlike his sister who tended towards pessimism. He'd been sure that he could count on Emma for some stability and a marginal amount of good cheer. She didn't let him down. While her face was still unusually somber, her eyes were clear and her color good. She smiled at him as she opened the door, a sympathetic kindly smile that still bespoke of her self-control. "Oh, Julius," she breathed. She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek and hug him. "I'm so sorry," she said sincerely. "Such a terrible loss for all of us." She blinked three times rapidly but no gleam of tears was evident in her eyes. Julius nodded wearily and stepped past her into the house. "You guys ready to go?" "We're all packed...Char's upstairs." She stepped to the landing and called up. "Charlotte! Julius is here!" Julius heard quick footsteps above and then his younger sister started down the stairs. As composed as Emma appeared, Charlotte appeared equally distressed. She clutched a handkerchief and her eyes were red and swollen, her skin pasty. Her face crumpled into a half-smile, half-sob as she saw Julius, and she rushed into his arms, her tears wetting his shirt. Julius felt tears threatening for what seemed like the zillionth time since Romana's call a mere...five hours ago? Could that be right? It felt like eons. Finally Charlotte pulled away, blowing her nose, and motioned Julius onto the sofa, keeping hold of one of his hands as if afraid to step too far from him. "Have you talked to Dad?" she asked. He shook his head. "No, just Romana. She said he's in one of his 'I-feel-nothing' modes..." At this Charlotte nodded knowingly. Both were intimately familiar with their father's ways of coping with stress. "...and that he wanted to wait to talk to us until he can see our faces." Charlotte sighed. "I'm almost glad. I'm not sure I really would have wanted to talk to him until I have myself under control...especially over comm circuits. So impersonal." She paused to look out the window, less violent tears slowly tracking down her cheeks unheeded. "How did it happen? Tell me everything," she asked quietly. Julius stared at his hands. "How do you think? In the line of duty, as she would say. All I know is what Romana told me. The three of them were somewhere in the middle of something..." "As usual," Charlotte muttered. "Yes, as usual. They were in some sort of multilevel chamber and he was down below trying to deactivate a power source or something and she was six levels above holding off the guards." "By herself?" Charlotte cried. "I guess there weren't any guards supposed to be there so she thought she could handle it, but they came on her all at once. Anyway, Romana was fetching the TARDIS and Mom was up there fighting off guards, and he could see her struggling from where he was and tried to hurry things up, but just as he disconnected the whatever-it-was, he heard..." Julius swallowed. "He heard a cry and he looked up and saw her fall from the upper level." Charlotte put a hand over her mouth and shut her eyes tight. Emma sat on the arm of the sofa and laid an arm across her shoulders. "She...she landed almost right beside him. Now the rest I have from Romana's own account because she arrived in the TARDIS right then. She said when she opened the doors Mom must have just fallen because he was still standing there with this horrified look on his face. He ran and sort of...gathered her up in his arms, and Romana followed to see if she could help, but...there wasn't anything that could be done. When she saw how it was, she said she just kissed Mom's cheek and..." Julius cleared his throat. "...told her goodbye, and then she made herself stand up and walk away so they could be alone." "That must have been hard," Charlotte breathed. Romana had loved their mother dearly as they both knew. Both had called her Aunt Romana for most of their childhood, and she'd been a close friend and trusted advisor to them all their lives. "Yeah," Julius said miserably. "She said she couldn't help but watch, though. She seemed really worried that we would consider that a terrible invasion of their...last moment. I don't. Do you?" he asked. Charlotte shook her head slowly. "No, I'm glad she was there." "Anyway she said that Mom lived for a very short time...it looked like they said a few words..." "Oh good," Charlotte interrupted. "It would have been terrible if she...if she had to die without saying anything." Julius nodded and continued. "Then he kissed her, and pulled her close to his chest and held her, and then..." His throat worked. "She just slumped in his arms and lay still." Charlotte's breath was coming in deep, hitching gasps now. Julius found it difficult to speak. "Romana said seeing that was like having some part of her body torn away." Charlotte reached out and grasped her brother's hand again. "What did Dad do?" she whispered. "Um...he didn't do anything for a few seconds, just held her. Romana said she could see him shaking from twenty feet away. Then he just picked her up and carried her into the TARDIS and they set course for Earth at once." Charlotte sighed, a deep shaky sigh. She stood up and blew her nose. "Oh, Julius..." she said. "I always knew that this would someday happen, but I never thought it would be so soon. She...she always seemed almost immortal to me, like nothing bad could ever happen to her." Julius hung his head. "We'd better go."
The three of them arrived on Earth, to that wonderful house on Allen Road where they'd spent so many holidays over the years. Charlotte stepped out of the quiet confines of her brother's TARDIS to a scene that she'd never imagined. This country home had seen many events and gatherings, but never one quite like this. A number of vehicles were parked outside and she could see people inside the house and outside on the lawn. She hesitated just outside the TARDIS door, clutching her valise in one hand and Emma's hand in the other. Julius came up behind her, locking the TARDIS behind him. "Ready?" Emma whispered to her. Charlotte nodded. "Yes. Let's go in." The three of them went down the walk and entered the house. People were milling about holding cups of tea and talking in quiet voices. Charlotte knew most of them, some she recognized from photographs. She froze in the foyer, the lump rising in her throat again. "Charlotte! Julius!" came a familiar voice. Romana came towards them, her normally ruddy face pale, her arms outstretched. She enfolded both of them in a large hug. "Oh my dears, thank Rassilon you're here," she said into Julius' shoulder. She pulled back and ran a hand through her red hair. "Are you all right, Mana?" Julius asked. He was the only person who called her that, and the only one who could have gotten away with it. She nodded. "Yes, I'm all right. It's still..." She crossed her arms and glanced away. "It's still such a shock. I keep thinking I'm going to see her." "Where is she?" Charlotte whispered. Romana swallowed. "Solarium," she said quietly. Julius took Charlotte's hand and they started towards the rear of the house. "Do you want me to come, honey?" Emma asked. Charlotte looked back and squeezed her hand. "No, I'll be all right. Stay here with Romana." They continued to the back room, their steps slowing as they approached. The solarium was a large, airy space that had a marvelous view of the rolling hills behind the house and the river that ran through the valley. It was furnished with comfortable chairs and chaise lounges, many plants and books. It had been Ace's favorite place to read and relax. Today, the room had been rearranged. A trestle had been set up in front of the windows upon which was placed a plain gray coffin, closed and surrounded by innumerable flowers sent by family and friends. Julius and Charlotte stood in the doorway holding hands like lost children, their gaze split between the mesmerizing sight of that coffin and the man who stood alone in front of it. His slender frame was slumped slightly, his head down, his hands thrust into his trouser pockets. "Dad?" Julius said softly. The man turned quickly as if he'd been waiting for them, which of course he had been. The three of them just stared at each other for a moment. Charlotte sucked in her breath at the sight of him. Everything was familiar: his same velvet coat, his same sandy hair, his same well-loved face...but the eyes were all wrong. His chameleon eyes had always sparkled with life and intelligence and good humor, but now they were so lifeless and dead, and it shattered what little self-control Charlotte had been able to muster. She rushed, sobbing, into his arms. The Doctor held out his other arm to Julius and the three of them embraced before the coffin. The Doctor pulled back and smiled sadly at his grown children, his face calm. "I've been waiting for you," he said. "I'm sorry I didn't call you myself, but..." "It's ok," Julius said. "We understand." Charlotte nodded miserably. They turned to face the coffin, the Doctor standing between them and clinging to their hands. He was silent, his face carefully neutral. "Are you all right, Dad?" Charlotte whispered, slipping her arm around his waist. She could feel him trembling. He slowly turned to look at her. "I don't think so, Char." He looked back at the coffin. "I think it will be a very long time before I'm all right again." They stood there in silent communion, the absence of the fourth member of their family circle like a gaping, jagged hole.
Emma stood in the kitchen preparing plates of sandwiches and platters of cheese and crackers to set out for the nearly two dozen people milling about the house. The task had been started by some considerate person but abandoned halfway through, and of course Emma's caretaking nature could not possibly stand up to that kind of temptation. So, before she knew it, she was slicing cheddar and rummaging through the cupboards for sandwich buns. A sharp-featured woman with elegantly gray close-cropped hair came in, her face humorless and grim. She had a wineglass in one hand and by her expression was in search of a refill. She saw Emma and was at her side in a second. "You're Charlotte's wife, right?" she said without preamble. Emma blinked at this forward approach. "Umm...yes. I'm Emma." She stuck out her hand. The woman shook it. "Tegan Jovanka. Nice to meet you." "Oh, Tegan! I am glad to meet you," Emma said, clinging to Tegan's hand. "I've heard a lot about you. Weren't you one of the Doctor's companions?" Tegan smiled wistfully, her face softening. "Yes, a long time ago." She began fiddling with the sandwiches that Emma had carefully arranged on the tray. "How is Charlotte holding up?" Emma dropped Tegan's hand and turned back to the cutting board. "As well as one could expect, I suppose." She stared off into space for a moment. "I think it's only just starting to hit her...but really, I almost feel more for the Doctor. Charlotte has me and Julius but he'll be alone now." She picked up her knife, shaking herself. "I don't know what I'd do if Charlotte died suddenly like that, and we've only been together five years. They were married for a long time." "Thirty years," Tegan said quietly. "What about him? How is he doing? I haven't had the nerve to actually talk to him yet." "I don't know," Emma said. "Romana says he doesn't talk or cry or anything, he just sits or stands in one place for hours at a time, staring off into space. I expect it's shock." Tegan nodded. "Were you close to Ace?" The older woman sighed. "Reasonably. I met her just after they married. We always had a sort of connection." She leaned against the countertop and crossed her arms over her chest. "How about you? Mother-in-law and all." Emma smiled. "Ace and I always got along great. I admired her a lot, sometimes more than Char did I think. She's a lot more like her dad, thoughtful and academic. She sometimes thought Ace was too hot-headed. I found her spirit refreshing." Tegan shook her head slowly. "I can't believe she's actually gone," she said, her voice shaky. "If there was one person who could tell Death to bog off it would have been her." She picked up the wine bottle and refilled her glass. Emma said nothing...for what, really, was there to say?
Julius stood at the big bay window in the living room, a half-forgotten mug of coffee in his hand. He was looking out across the expanse of backyard to the lake...down by the shore were four wooden lounge chairs sitting in a rough half-circle on the lawn, a favorite spot for stargazing or just evening conversation. The Doctor was sitting there now in what was unofficially "his" chair, leaning forward, his head in his hands. Julius had been watching him for about fifteen minutes but he hadn't moved. Behind him the house was full of quiet activity. Romana was busy making preparations for the memorial service, scheduled for later that afternoon. He glanced over the faces of the people who had come here, some from great distances, to honor his mother. Most looked profoundly sad, many were red-eyed, and all were talking in those low tones that seemed reserved solely for wakes and funerals. Charlotte was on the window seat with Emma. Benny was sitting in her favorite wing chair paging through an old photo album and smiling to herself, no doubt at a memory of a happier time. Old friends were reuniting, new acquaintances were meeting, and everyone, it seemed, was talking about Ace. Remembering her, sharing memories and stories of her, and trying to cope with her absence. Julius turned back to the window. The Doctor hadn't moved. He set down his mug and went to the back door. He looked over his shoulder and met Charlotte's questioning eyes, then flicked his eyes out the window. Charlotte got up and joined him. "I'm going out to talk to him. Coming?" She nodded and grasped his hand. They stepped out onto the lawn...it really was a beautiful day. Blue sky, warm sunlight, a soft breeze...it filled Julius' heart with resentment that it should possibly be so lovely out when his mother was dead and unable to enjoy it. It was illogical, but it felt like the ultimate evidence of the insensibility of nature...how dare the weather be so agreeable when such a loved and needed person had been taken from them? They walked across the grass hand in hand, down the lawn to the group of chairs. Charlotte laid a hand on the Doctor's shoulder. He looked up at them and smiled weakly. Julius sat down in his chair and Charlotte in hers. They all avoided looking at the fourth one, sitting empty, and no one spoke for a few minutes. Charlotte reached over and grasped the Doctor's hand. "Are you okay, Dad?" He sighed. "I will be, Char. It's just right now...I feel so lost I don't know what to do with myself." He dropped her hand and scrubbed his fingers over his face. "I tried to prepare myself for this, I really did. I even had the audacity to think that I would be able to cope when it happened, but...I wasn't ready at all." His voice was uninflected and flat. Julius swung his legs over the side of the lounge and faced the Doctor. "Can I ask you something?" "Of course. Anything." Julius took a deep breath. "What did Mom say...right before she..." He couldn't finish. He paused and gathered himself. "Romana said that she, um...lived for a few moments." The Doctor swallowed hard. "Yes, she did." He fell silent. Charlotte slipped out of her chair and sat on the grass by the Doctor's feet, wrapping one arm around his leg to lean her head on his knee as she'd done when she was a child. "Can you tell us about it?" He sighed, tenderly stroking Charlotte's hair, his jaw working. "It happened too fast...and too soon. She'd planned to live a long life, and we thought we'd have plenty of time to say our goodbyes but instead...all of a sudden I was there on the floor, holding her, knowing she was slipping away from me and still having so much to say to her." Charlotte reached up and clutched at his fingers. "She uh...she asked me to tell you that she loved you, both of you, and...she told me not to cry, that we'd known this day would come..." He trailed off, staring intently into space. "She smiled a little and...she said she loved me...and then..." He rose suddenly and walked a few paces towards the lake, his hands thrust deeply into his coat pockets. Julius and Charlotte exchanged a glance. The Doctor raised one hand to his eyes and drew a deep shuddering breath. "How I wish I could have died with her," he said, his voice hoarse. "But I can't...I'm still here, trapped in this *body,*" he exclaimed with sudden vehemence, striking himself across the chest, making them both jump. "Five more regenerations until I can join her...how long? A hundred years, another thousand?" He dropped his hand and his shoulders sagged wearily. They rose and went to stand at his sides. His head was sagging to his chest and he didn't look at them. "I asked her to take me with her," he whispered. "I begged her not to leave me here alone...but she said I had to stay, that I was needed and I had work to do. So I kissed her..." he said, his eyes closing and one hand rising to touch his own lips as if he could still feel her there..."and I told her how much I loved her, and then I just held her..." he said, his voice cracking. "I felt the life go out of her and then she was dead, my Ace was dead..." His words dissolved into a wail of despair and he fell to his knees, the unexpressed grief bursting out of him in sobs. Charlotte dropped next to him and threw her arms around his neck, her tears mingling with his. After a moment Julius knelt and put his arms around both of them, and the three sat there on the warm grass and cried together underneath the blue sky and the uncaring sun.
"We're here to honor the life of Dorothy McShane," began the minister. "She was many things to many people...warrior, teacher, friend, mother and wife." The Doctor glanced around, the words washing over him meaninglessly. Rows of chairs had been set up in the backyard and every one of them was occupied. The coffin had been placed on a trestle bedecked with flowers, his TARDIS parked to one side. The memorial went on but he was hardly listening. He looked around at the faces...friends, Ace's Earth relatives, old companions. According to Ace's wishes the minister would give a brief neutral ceremony and then Romana, turned out in the appropriate Gallifreyan ceremonial robes, would conduct an abridged version of the Time Lord rites of passage. That had actually been a long-ago notion of Romana's when she observed that Ace was the closest thing to an honorary Time Lord the planet had ever seen. Ace had liked the idea, and this funerary request was one of the things to come of it. The words continued, but they were not for Ace, or for him. They were for the others, those who needed closure and had come here for it. What was a funeral except a courtesy to the living...but at that moment he could scarcely count himself among them. He felt like half a person, that which had made him whole ruthlessly torn away. The minister was finished now...Romana rose and walked to the head of the coffin. The Doctor fixed his gaze on his children, sitting in the front row and holding hands...just as they had been the first time he and Ace had met them twenty-five years ago. How young they had been then, how alone and afraid after the death of their father. He could still see their youthful faces hiding behind the adults before him now, more so today than usual...for once again a parent had been taken from them, and too soon. He knew they would be all right, they were both every bit as strong as Ace had raised them to be. He knew as well that in time he would feel like himself again, as impossible as that seemed right now. Romana finished her portion of the ceremony. She laid a hand on the head of the coffin for a moment and then sat down, a hand to her mouth. Benny rose and took her place, for it was her job to give the eulogy. Her face when the Doctor had asked her to do so had been at once touched and shocked. "Don't you want to do it?" she'd asked. He shook his head. "I will have my own tribute to give at another time," he'd said. "I think you are the appropriate person to help everyone remember her." And so she did. He half-listened as she talked about Ace's courage and her strength, her love for her family and friends, and her passion for all things close to her heart. Everything she said was true, and she said it quite eloquently. He heard a number of people among the gathered mourners sniffling and blowing noses as she spoke. She reached the end of her remarks and hesitated, glancing at the Doctor. He nodded at her and she continued. "The conclusion of this service will be somewhat unusual," she said as the Doctor rose and approached the coffin. "It may even shock you, but everything is according to Ace's wishes and those of her family. For this reason, I ask that at this time anyone who wishes to do so please come forward and pay your final respects." He stood there by the foot of the trestle as people filed by, many of them stopping to say a brief prayer, observe a moment of silence, or leave flowers and mementos behind. Julius and Charlotte came by last, both of them reaching out to touch the metal as if they could still feel her through it. The Doctor hugged each of them tightly, and as they stepped away he moved to the coffin. He sighed, gathering his resolve, and then raised the lid. Someone in the back gasped and was quickly shushed. The silence was absolute as he reached in and lifted her body, wrapped in a plain white sheet, out of the casket. He turned and faced the mourners. "I thank you, as would Ace, for coming...but she and I have one last journey to make, and it's one we must make alone." He turned and walked slowly towards the TARDIS. Julius was there to hold the door open for him as he carried her body inside. Murmurs ran through the crowd as Charlotte closed and locked the door, then they both stepped away as the TARDIS dematerialized. After a decorus interval people began to approach them as they stood there, arm in arm, still staring at the emtpy space where the TARDIS had stood. "What's going on?" they asked. "Where did he take her?" Julius looked around at them, his eyes clearing. "We've all said our goodbyes to her," he said. "Now he has gone to say his."
The TARDIS materialized near that great stone arch under the curve of black sky, starlight blazing from the heavens onto the planet named for them. The door opened and he stepped into the cool night, her body cradled in his arms. He paused and looked around, glad to see that everything was ready. Directly beneath the arch was a neat rectangular pyre built of birch branches, and stuck into the ground at its head were twelve lit torches. A thirteenth was in the hand of the man standing next to the pyre, patiently waiting, his Panama hat tucked in his other hand. He looked away as the Doctor walked slowly forward...for him, the woman wrapped in the sheet was alive and well and waiting for him when he returned from this errand, the nature of which he would have to keep from her. The Doctor stopped as he reached the pyre and exchanged a glance with his past self, then he leaned forward to carefully lay her on the branches. He pulled one of the torches from the ground, stood back and waited. The Doctor came to stand next to him. They did not speak. Not a minute had gone by before the sound of another TARDIS materializing filled the air. The two already present did not look around, they knew who it was. A tall, thin man with red hair and a beard walked to the pyre, leaned over and kissed Ace's forehead through the shroud, then picked up his torch and joined them, the sound of another arrival coming as he did so. The newcomer, a young blond man, took up a torch but did not touch her, after all, he did not know her. All he knew was that for his entire life, this occasion had been observed by each incarnation...and that someday he would know why. The man who had brought her here nodded to his fifth incarnation. Only now did he understand why this occasion had been so faithfully observed, and why his final self had deemed it important enough to leave the instructions. One by one they arrived until they formed a complete continuum, standing in a rough half-circle around the pyre, their torches sending sparks into the sky. Ace's husband stepped forward and faced himself. "I am here to mourn the death of my wife," he said. "Those of you who know her will remember her with me. Those who do not, take comfort in her existence...and know that someday you will be fortunate enough to know her, and to love her." He turned towards the pyre and stepped close to it, the others following suit. He reached forward, laid a hand on her arm and bowed his head. After a few moments of silence he spoke. "How can I say goodbye to you?" He swiped his hand across his eyes. "I never dreamed it would hurt this much," he said, his fingers gripping the torch. His voice was hoarse as he continued. "All I see in the future is time stretching out before me without you, no joy, no happiness...no end in sight. I know how you would want me to go on with my life, and I will try, I promise. I don't..." He swallowed. "I don't know if there's an afterlife, but somehow I feel that you still live in some form, that you will go on beyond this...limited existence. In that, I have faith...and faith comes very hard to me. So whenever I miss you, or wish I could hold you, I will look to the stars and see there your soul." He stepped back. "I hope that your life, our life, gave you as much joy as it gave me, I hope that wherever you are you have found peace, but most of all, I hope to one day be reunited with you...and to never lose you again." He looked over the faces of the twelve Time Lords gathered around the pyre...his own faces, some familiar and some as yet unknown, all bearing somber expressions. He smiled down at the still form of his wife. "I will always love you." He sighed, then nodded to the gathered circle. In unison they leaned forward and touched their torches to the base of the pyre. "Until we meet again, my love...rest in peace." They fell back a few meters to a safe distance as the dry wood caught fire and blazed. The Doctor watched, tears flowing down his face, as the flames rose higher and higher in the sky. The smoke billowed up like a curtain, and though he knew it was a fanciful illusion, he could almost believe that he was seeing her spirit, freed from its mortal constraints and rising to join the universe that had been her home.
**********
in the recent past and the faraway future...
**********
Ace burst through the underbrush and ran as fast as she could towards the bunker, holstering her blaster. Smoke was rising from the small building and she could feel the tremors beneath her feet as the reactor overloaded and burned itself to cinders. As she neared the bulkhead doors they flung themselves upward and the Doctor climbed out, covered in soot and looking very shaky. She rushed to his side and didn't waste words, just grabbed his arm and slung it around her shoulder. He was barely able to walk. Ace half-carried him away from the bunker to where they'd parked the TARDIS, but as they reached the clearing his knees gave out and he fell to the forest floor. She tried to pick him up and get him into the vehicle, but he protested. "No, no, Ace...it's no use, don't bother." "We've got...to get...you some...medical...attention..." she said, grunting with effort as she pulled at him. "Too late," he rasped. She stopped pulling with a sharp exhale and knelt next to him, slipping one arm beneath his shoulder. "It's never too late, Doctor! You should know that, you taught me!" "I said this mission would kill me..." "That doesn't mean we just give up! Maybe it doesn't have to!" "Ace...listen. To destroy that reactor beyond any hope of salvage I had to crawl inside the chamber." She blanched. "My God...that thing must have been giving off thousands of rads of Hoard radiation!" "Millions," he said. "There is no known countermeasure." They locked eyes for a few moments. She sighed and smoothed his ruffled hair away from his forehead, then pulled out a handkerchief and began wiping the soot from his cheeks. He was growing paler and paler by the moment. "Well...with that reactor gone, the Malerians have no reason to destroy this planet. The population is safe." "That was the idea," he whispered. She looked around. "Where are the cities? They should know what's happened." He shook his head slowly. "No cities." She frowned. "Where are all the people?" "Person." He smiled up at her. "One person." She stopped wiping and gaped down at him, disbelieving. "There's *one* person living on this planet?" "Yes. She's a scientist from a neighboring solar system, seeking solitude for her research." Her face softened and she gently stroked his cheek, tears filling her eyes. "You...I can't..." She paused and looked away for a moment, then back at him. "You sacrificed yourself to save one person." "You don't understand?" She smiled down at him. "No, I do understand. As worthy a final act as you could have hoped for." He nodded. "And it is. To save a whole galaxy or to save one person...my own life is worth the price of either." She drew him into her arms and hugged him tightly. "How will we do without you, Doctor?" she said, her voice shaky. "How will the universe?" "The universe got along all right before me, it will do so again." He laid a hand on her cheek. "My work is finished now...and I have been waiting so long to be with you again." She laid her hand over his. "Do you really believe we'll be together again after death?" "I didn't always believe it. Now I do, I have to." His head sagged back against her arm. Fear slithered into her belly...he was fading. "Doctor...Doctor!" She lightly slapped his cheeks. "Stay with me now...come on!" His eyelids fluttered. "Why prolong it, Ace?" Her lip trembled and two tears spilled over her eyelids to trickle down her cheek. "I can't believe this is the end for you...you're the only thing that ever seemed eternal to me." "Not eternal, gladly. To live forever...who would want that?" "Oh, it's not fair!" she exclaimed, grasping his hand. "You're dying...you waited all this time to see me again but I'll see you again in a few days!" "I'll see you again too...very soon." His eyes found hers and he smiled gently. "Thank you for being with me." She was crying openly now. "Wouldn't have missed it for the world," she whispered. She bowed her forehead to his...his skin was cool and clammy, and she could feel the tremors running through him. "I love you, Doctor..." she sobbed. He sighed. "Oh Ace...how long I've waited to hear you say that again." His trembling increased and Ace clutched him to her chest. "You will...tell everyone goodbye...for me?" She nodded, unable to speak. "There are instructions...in the TARDIS...for what to...do..." His breath was wheezing in and out of him now and she could feel his hearts beating in an irregular rhythm against her chest. She tightened her arms around him as if she could keep him there if she held on hard enough. "Don't worry," she said into his ear. "I'll take care of everything." She felt him nod. She drew back slightly and held his gaze. He wore a different face, but there was no question as she looked into his eyes that this was the Time Lord she knew, the man she loved, the Doctor...and he was dying. "I know you're afraid," she whispered to him. "I know you fear death..." she said. She bent and kissed him tenderly. He tried to kiss her back but he felt so tired and weak. She met his eyes again. "So you just look at me." His eyes focused on hers with an effort. "That's right...focus on me. Think of all the things we did together, all the times we had." She smiled at him as her tears fell on his upturned face. "Remember the whitewater rafting trip? Nearly killed us." He smiled and nodded...the motion was barely perceptible. "And remember the second wedding? That nearly killed everyone." She chuckled at the memory, never taking her eyes off his. She felt panic icing her thoughts as his eyes began to glaze over. "Umm...think of...oh God, Doctor...look at me, that's it..." His lips moved, barely forming the words..."Brave heart, Ace...I love you..." "I love you too," she whispered. He met her eyes one last time and then his eyelids fluttered closed and he went limp, his head lolling to her shoulder. She stared down at him for a moment, trembling...she was half-waiting for a regeneration but none came. She sat there frozen for a few moments, her chest hitching, then she clutched his body to her chest and screamed wordlessly to the sky, the cry coming from the bottom of her soul. She buried her head in his shoulder, sobbing. She cried for herself even though her husband was still alive, she cried for him because his life was over, but most of all she cried for the universe which was a far grayer and dimmer place for his absence, even if the bulk of it was unaware of its loss.
She carried him into the TARDIS and laid him in the infirmary, then went to the databank for the instructions he'd left. Most of them were substantially as she'd expected, although there was one request she found unusual...but of course she would honor it. Ace concentrated on her task as she hooked him up to the neural interface in the infirmary. His mind would be transferred to the TARDIS databank for later storage in the Matrix on Gallifrey. She didn't look at his face or think about the implications...she couldn't afford to break down again, she wanted this to be over as soon as possible so she could go home, back to Allen Road.
A day later, the TARDIS materialized next to Benny's great arch on Heaven. Ace stepped out, the wind whipping her hair out behind her like a flag. She stared up at the structure, impressed as she always was with its simplicity and elegance. She wasn't sure why she was here, but she would do as he requested. She went to the nearby stand of birch trees and began cutting large branches. The physical labor felt good, the sweat breaking out on her brow as she chopped at the trees and carried the logs to the arch. Her mind wandered as she constructed the pyre, turning the events of the last few days over and over in her mind. Romana had met her on Gallifrey and hadn't seemed surprised to see her with the body of the Doctor. She had seen to the transfer into the Matrix, sadness hanging about her like a cloud as she went about the tasks. They didn't speak much. Ace didn't know this Romana...the sixth incarnation...and they both knew that once she returned to her proper time they wouldn't be able to talk about it, so they kept quiet. She had been surprised at the general sadness in Time Lord society at the Doctor's death. Outcast he may have been, but she got the definite impression that he'd become something of an underground celebrity...degraded in public and unacknowledged, but admired by many in secret. Now that he was gone, there was no use keeping up the pretense. Romana hadn't been surprised by his unusual funeral request either but wouldn't say why, and Ace didn't press the matter. She had a feeling it had to do with her own death, a subject she wasn't eager to explore. The pyre was complete. Ace cut one more branch, used it to fashion a torch and stuck it into the ground, its light casting a warm glow over the ground beneath the arch. She went back into the TARDIS and reappeared momentarily, his body in her arms. She placed him carefully on the pyre, arranging his arms across his chest. She let her hand linger on his face for a moment, then stood on tiptoe to place a kiss on his lips. She covered him with a sheet and stepped back, picking up the torch. Ace just stood by the pyre for a few moments, contemplating what she was about to do. Everything he had done, everything he had meant to so many people...it was all over. There would be no more righting of wrongs, no more companions whisked away to adventures unimagined, and no more galaxies saved by his cunning. She blinked back tears. How empty everything seemed without him...though she was comforted by the fact that he was alive, somewhere and in some form, at almost every moment since time began. He was everywhere and nowhere, present and absent, alive and dead. Perhaps he really was eternal...it was all a question of timing. "I hope you are at peace, Doctor," she said. "You deserve your rest now." She touched the torch to the pyre and watched as the flames spread across its base and began to consume it. She tossed the torch into the branches, her chest swelling with tears again. "I love you," she whispered, hugging herself as the she watched the pyre burn.
**********
in the present...
**********
Ace stumbled into the house, more exhausted than she'd ever been. The TARDIS was parked in the yard, disguised as a large oak tree. Ever the careful planner, the Doctor had fixed the chameleon circut before coming to collect her so that she would have a way to get back alone without anyone knowing about it. She collapsed onto the couch and was asleep before she could think to pull the afghan over herself.
Sunlight streaming through the windows shone red through Ace's eyelids. She sat up with a gasp, muzzy half-asleep confusion suffusing her senses. Had that happened? Had it been a dream? She rubbed her face and held her hands up before her eyes...they were covered with small scratches from the chopping and carrying she'd done on Heaven. Not a dream. With a sigh she swung her legs over the side of the couch. Nearly one o'clock in the afternoon...but what day? She'd returned on a Thursday night, the Doctor was set to return on Saturday afternoon. She went into the kitchen and picked up the phone, dialing the weather and time number. "At the tone...the time will be...one twenty-seven, p.m...saturday...june...23rd..." She dropped the phone back into the cradle, not bothering to wait for the bloody tone. She'd slept through Friday completely. She ran upstairs, tearing her clothes off, and jumped into the shower. She was sweaty and dirty and sore all over...and not quite sure how she was feeling. The hot water beat into her flesh as she stood motionless in the stall, leaning against the tiles. Just knowing that somewhere he was dead made her profoundly sad, and yet at the same time, the certainty that he would outlive her was comforting. She'd always worried that something would happen and he wouldn't make it through his regenerative cycle...at least that concern had been answered. They'd only been together a few days, yet each time he looked at her she could see his pain at her death shining from behind his eyes, a sorrow that time had not healed nor distance dulled. And he'd been so different, yet so familiar. It was as if he'd been distilled by time and life, reduced down to his essential self with each regeneration and each century lived. It had been refreshing but at the same time eerie. The Doctor was such a complex person that it was almost disturbing to find at his core...simplicity. She washed her hair, turning her face into the water. She was glad to have been there, honored to have been the last person he saw before death...and more than ever, mystified by the walking enigma that she had married. He was no more clear to her now than he had ever been, but she felt closer to him for the experience.
Ace was sitting at the kitchen table with her wet hair wrapped in a towel, dressed in comfortable leggings and and a t-shirt, when she heard a TARDIS arriving. She listened for a moment, a smile curling her lips, then closed her book with a bang and jumped up. She whipped the towel off her hair and ran to the front door. The blue police box was sitting in the front yard just where it had been a week ago. She grinned, not surprised at how glad she was to see its familiar boxy shape. The door opened and the Doctor stepped out, looking equally glad to be back. He saw her standing on the stoop and waved with a smile. Ace ran up the yard and jumped into his arms, sending him staggering back a little with the impact. "Oof!" he exclaimed. "My goodness, you must be glad to see me!" he said, hugging her back. "You have no idea," she said. She drew back and kissed him enthusiastically, which he returned in kind. They walked away from the TARDIS, their arms linked about each others' waists. "How was the conference?" she asked, eager to hear about all things mundane and ordinary. "About as you predicted...dusty old books, dusty old philosophers. Still, there was some interesting debate...but it wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be." "Why not?" "Oh, I don't know. Perhaps because I had someone to miss." They walked around to the back of the house by the lake. "Did you have a pleasant holiday?" "Yes," she said carefully. "It was fine." "What did you do?" For a split second, she considered telling him everything. I saw you die, Doctor. I held you as your life ended and then I burned your body. It seemed incomprehensible that she had to keep such an important event from the person she was closest to in the world...but he could not know, ever. This was her secret to keep, and keep it she would. "Nothing of consequence," she said. They sat in the wooden lounge chairs on the lawn and talked as the sun went down, easy talk of her largely invented holiday and his conference. Ace watched his face, bathed in warm evening light, and with each word they spoke she felt herself moving further away from his death and back, happily, towards their life.
THE END
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