Character: The Doctor
Genre: Angst, introspection, vignette
Summary: Life goes on. This is not always a comforting thought.
Length: Oneshot, 240 words
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the BBC, not to me.
Note: Just a tiny barely-more-than-drabble.
Will care at last when it is done.
Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,
If mankind perished utterly;
And Spring herself when she woke at dawn
Would scarcely know that we were gone.
-"There Will Come Soft Rains," Sara Teasdale
He emerged from the TARDIS, into the golden dawn of an alien planet. A sun was just rising above the horizon, sending hesitant fingers of silvery light upward. He craned his head back and looked up into the gilded sky, where a few stars still gleamed against the brightening daylight.
He couldn't see Gallifrey, of course. It wasn't there any longer.
His own sun was gone. His life, his people, his world. All gone. Blown apart by him in a violent cataclysm, his last desperate effort to end the Time War and save the universe. Gallifrey was lost to him forever, and he would never again see it except in memory.
And yet on this planet, and on millions-- billions-- of other worlds, life went on, untroubled by Gallifrey's passing, unconcerned by his loss, unaware and uncaring that his species had passed into history.
It was spring here, and the sweet fragrance of flowers filled the air. Azure leaves rustled in the warm breeze, birds sang, and lizards scampered through the bluish grass. Life in all its joyful abundance continued.
He stood gazing upward, long after the sun had risen and the stars were no longer visible. Dark clouds rolled in, obscuring the sapphire sky, and a soft rain began to fall. Still he didn't go back into the TARDIS.
He stood there, staring up into the sky, and let the rain wash over his face like tears.