i don't wanna be you anymore

           “  it’s  hard  to  exactly…  pinpoint  that.  in  a  weird  way  i  feel  like  i’ve  always  known  the  doctor.  ”

that was a beautiful feeling. to be unable to remember when you'd met someone, as your paths had intertwined in such a seamless way that it was rendered impossible to remember a time when you'd been apart, estranged by the vagaries of the galaxy. jenny grinned, not at all bothered by the vague answer. "have you two had many adventures together? any that i can hear about? i love hearing about adventures. it's almost like experiencing them myself!" almost, not quite, but almost.

“I’m pretty sure that at all times, both of my feet are always in the abyss, actually,” a beat, “Or, if they are in a fairy tale they’re in one of the actual ones-the bloody gruesome ones.” 

her nose wrinkled, eyebrows rising in an overblown fashion. "really now? where does all this doom and gloom come from? cheer up!" jenny chuckled, shaking her head in a feeble, half-hearted way. "would you honestly like to be part of one of those stories? most of them end badly, you know? i don't think stories should have to have a bad ending. or even an ending, they could go on forever! wouldn’t that be wonderful?”.

             “Pfft,  perhaps,  but sometimes you can love them just as much,  especially when they’re around.  Loving and cherishing them every second.” 

petal lips spread wide across her visage, eyes glittering in a way that someone would think stray stars had gotten caught in her eyelashes. her father always had a positive outlook on almost everything – it was encouraging. it was what she wanted to be. "what if they're not around, do you still love them the same?" had he thought about her after he'd left messaline behind, or had her memory been lost to the wind?

    oh, jenny was definitely her daughter, wasn’t she? she could read her like a book. “perhaps you’re right, you can’t have the good without the bad, or vice versa. but i’ve lost so much, jenny. i’m not sure how much more i can take.”

can you hear that? it's a dreadful sound, isn't it? two hearts breaking in perfect tandem, their tissues fraying and their blood turning ice cold. jenny halted in her movements, lips pressing into a thin line, the brown of her eyes tinginging the softest of blues. what was she to say to that? what could she say to that? she would never be able to comprehend all the losses that the doctor tucked away religiously in her thoughts, a memory capable of evoking the most sorrowful yet tender feelings. her family, her home, her companions. jenny had not shared in the suffering. ( you are an echo ) "you're no longer alone, mom. you can share some of your losses with me, some of your pain. if you can't take any more, give it to me. bottling it up won't do you any good. and i– i want to help. i want to learn. i want to know you."