Work Text:
The Same but Different
by Lilithangel
It's odd that two smiles on two different faces can do the same things to his insides. That the touch of two different hands, both cool and smooth, can feel like home.
There's someone different at his side too, still attractive that at least hasn't changed. That hurts though, even after the reassurance of the safety of the other one. Obviously they are all left behind in the end so he shouldn't feel special about his abandonment.
Hearing his name from those lips that aren't the same lips still makes him jump a little though. Different voice but the same words and the same scolding tone that he didn't realise he had missed until he heard it again. It seems like a long time since anyone wanted to scold him for anything.
The hug is harder and less than he's used to but the twin heartbeat is more familiar than his own. He wants to hold on longer, but isn't sure if this one will permit it so pulls back before he finds out.
Running from the hue and cry is wonderfully familiar. He realised that he has gotten used to running after things for Torchwood. Aliens, monsters, humans, and always running after any sightings of a blue police box.
Running away from mobs, that was so very much the Doctor and oh how he's missed it. He knew all about dying now, but had forgotten about living with his holding pattern existence waiting for the Doctor. Running away from ravaging creatures intent on eating them that made a man feel alive.
The innocent wonder is still there but it is even more brittle than he remembers. Possibly to fit the narrow frame that almost seems lost in the layers of clothes around it.
The enthusiasm sucks him in just as quickly as it did the first time and a hope long extinguished flares again. Hope for a future, hope for humanity almost lost in the darkness of the role he had taken on.
It's nice not to be in charge again and this one gives orders just the same as the last.
This one talks more too. Doesn't actually say a lot more and the hands move around almost hypnotically at time. They are very different hands from the last pair and he thinks he could get to like them a lot.
He wonders about the lips some more and isn't sure if he wants to kiss them. Would they feel the same, would they taste the same? He wasn't certain he could keep a second kiss as chaste as the last even if they were heading for certain death again.
Only it wouldn't be certain death for either of them. That face could change again. There could be another body and different clothes while he continued to stay the same, and he isn't sure if that comforts or terrifies him.
The mind is still the same there is nothing different there. Able to see right through his defences and deflections like they were glass. He wasn't sure if it was because the Doctor cared or just could, but it was nice.
The eyes haven't change and that's what clinches it for him. It is the Doctor, not his Doctor but as close as he's going to get, and maybe still the right kind.