Title: Do It Again
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Ross Jenkins
Fandom: Doctor Who
Table: 4, 50ficlets
Prompt: 48, Flash back
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor or Ross Jenkins, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.
***The Doctor sat bolt upright in bed, swallowing the cry that threatened to burst from his throat. He raised a hand to his face, pushing his unruly hair back, gulping in air. What the hell had he been dreaming about to cause this kind of a reaction?
Ross. He'd been dreaming about Ross. He glanced over at his boyfriend, sleeping peacefully beside him. At least he hadn't woken his lover; Ross usually didn't sleep so deeply, but they'd been rather physical last night before they'd both drifted off into slumber.
He pressed his hand against his chest, feeling the dual heartbeats under his palm. He could have sworn that his hearts had stopped for a moment, or at least skipped a few beats. The dream was slowly coming back to him, now that he was awake and thinking about it.
He'd been reliving that situation with the Sontarans -- when Ross had died. The situation that he'd set right when he'd gone back in time to take Ross off into the stars with him before any of that had happened, the situation that he thought was behind them.
Of course, he'd known that there could very likely be repercussions from what he'd done to save Ross, even before he'd done it. That was something he'd thought long and hard about -- and he'd still made the decision to preserve this young man's life.
Had he only done so to benefit himself, out of his own selfishness? He didn't think so; Ross was far too young, with too much of his life ahead of him, to have his existence cut short in such a tragic way. He had done this for Ross as much as for himself.
He hadn't wanted to let this young man slip out of his life, even when he'd barely known Ross. There had been a connection between them that had been undeniable; he couldn't begin to describe the sadness in his hearts when he'd known that Ross was dead.
But that didn't have to be. He'd accepted it for a while, but the more he'd thought about it, the more unfair it had seemed. Yes, there were always losses in a battle, but Ross hadn't had to be one of those losses. And he'd been determined to set things right.
Falling in love with Ross hadn't been part of that plan. He'd only wanted to save the young man from a death that he didn't deserve; he hadn't thought that Ross would be anything more than a companion who would stay with him for a while and then choose to leave.
That was usually what his companions did, after all. But Ross had been different, right from the start. The look in those eyes when the young man had looked at him the first time they were alone on the Tardis had held such promises, such anticipation of the future.
Not only the future that awaited him as the Doctor's companion, but a future for the two of them. Why couldn't his dreams flash back to that part of their lives, rather than the moment when he'd heard Ross' last words and heard the crash that had caused his death?
The Time Lord shuddered, turning to look at his lover again. Ross wasn't dead; those flashbacks he had now and then to those horrible moments when it had sunk into his mind that the young man he'd started to grow fond of was dead weren't true. They hadn't happened.
Well, that wasn't entirely true. They had happened -- in another reality. A reality that he had been able to subvert and turn around to their advantage. Those flashbacks weren't true in the reality they existed in now -- and they never would be.
He was going to keep Ross safe, he vowed to himself, reaching out a trembling hand to touch his lover's shoulder, to assure himself that Ross was warm and alive, here with him and not cold and dead back on Earth, without the Doctor to grieve for him.
The young man didn't awaken when the Doctor touched him, but a small smile curved his lips; the Time Lord allowed himself a smile as well, feeling relieved now that he was awake and alert and the dream had receded, though it was still crystal-clear in his mind.
If only these flashbacks wouldn't haunt him, he thought, lying down again and pulling the covers up over his bare shoulders. How many times would he have to hear that crash and know that Ross was dead before his subconscious mind stopped replaying that horrible scene?
Probably quite a few, he thought regretfully. He had no idea how long it would take for his subconscious to get used to the fact that Ross was here with him, that he'd done something he tried never to do by going back and changing the past.
Maybe there would be a day when he would have to answer to some sort of higher power for what he'd done, the Doctor thought with a sigh, closing his eyes. But his actions had brought him the greatest happiness of his life -- and if was given the choice, he'd do the same thing again.
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