A/N: I'm not exactly sure what this is, besides the fact that it attacked me earlier today and demanded to be written. You can let me know if it was worth it.

Also, this takes place in the real Family of Blood episode, NOT my AU story. Just thought I better make that clear from the start.

The two men stood and stared at each other, the empty, silent, blinding whiteness around them stretching on forever. "Well," John Smith said. "I don't know why, but I quite thought you'd look…different, somehow."

"Nope," the Doctor answered. "The insides may be different, but the outsides still look the same."

John nodded, and looked at the blankness around him. "We're in your mind, then?" he asked casually.

The Doctor shrugged, hands deep in his trouser pockets. "Or yours. Or both at once. I've never done this before. Who knows what happens in the space between dying and becoming."

"True," John said, simply. "So this is a second—less than a second, actually, more like a blink of an eye—stretched out for an eternity." He held out his hand, fingers outstretched, as if he could feel the waves and eddies of time swirling around them.

Maybe he could. Who knew.

He dropped his hand. "And when it ends I'll be gone."

The Doctor's gaze dropped to his trainers. "Yes. I'm sorry."

"No you're not," John said, and the Doctor's head jerked up, shocked. "You are, but you aren't. You're sorry that I'm not my own being. You hate that another person has to die at your hands. It might even haunt you, for a while. Like they all do. But you're not sorry that it's happening, that you're coming back. The universe needs the Doctor, does it not? The Earth and all those strange worlds hidden in the stars need their defender. And as much as you seem to hate living, Doctor, even you don't want to die."

He couldn't bring himself to look at the man in front of him. "I…"

John shrugged. "I've made my peace," he said. "The watch is open. What's done is done. I'll be able to see Joan again, someday, in the hereafter."

The Time Lord shook his head. "There's nothing after death, John. I'm sorry."

John looked at him, eyes piercing. "How would you know, Doctor? You've never really been, have you? Never taken that final step. Been killed again and again and again, but never actually died. How can you dismiss what you've never seen?"

"There's nothing," he said vehemently.

His double graced him with a faint smile. "Maybe. Maybe not." And then he changed topics with a suddenness that usually only the Doctor could achieve. "You won't love Joan, will you?"

The Doctor shook his head. "No. It won't be the same. I wish that she didn't have to go through this, be pulled into this. If only I'd…I'm sorry." The apology felt hollow.

John nodded. "I was so angry, when Martha talked of your list. All those things to watch out for, and falling in love wasn't one of them. I couldn't understand—what sort of man is it that falling in love doesn't even occur to him? I didn't understand, but I do now." He looked at the Time Lord intently. "Why would a man worry about falling in love when he already has?"

The Doctor stiffened. "I don't know what you're talking about," he blustered. "I—"

"Rose," John interrupted, and the Doctor stopped cold, staring at him. "All those people, things, that I sketched in my journal. Impossible things, I said, but they were real. All of them, real—figments, fragments left over from you. And out of them all, the only name I could remember was hers."

The Doctor stayed silent.

"'Seems to disappear later on,' I said," John said, "but that's not right, is it? She didn't disappear—she was lost. Lost to another world, one that even an adventurer such as yourself can't reach."

"Stop it," the Doctor gritted out.

"Never ever to be seen again," he continued, despite the objection. "But what is it you said, Doctor? Never say never ever."

He looked up sharply at this, realizing for the first time that the enigmatic man before him did not match up with the meek, bumbling school master he'd been before. "Who are you?" he asked fiercely.

Another slight smile. "I'm still John Smith. That much has not changed. I can just…see…a little more clearly." He looked off into the middle distance. "I looked into the watch, like I was supposed to, like I was always supposed to. But you weren't the only thing in there, Doctor. It takes a lot of power to trap a consciousness inside an object, and your TARDIS decided to share that with me. A parting gift, I imagine, to help me understand why it had to be done. You've lived an amazing life. Seen so many fantastic things."

He looked straight at him, and for a moment it seemed that John's eyes flashed gold. "There are more storms approaching, Doctor. One that will threaten to tear you apart, and another…another that might bring you an amazing gift."

"What are you talking about?"

But John just shook his head and slowly started backing away, into the white. "Time's up, Doctor. The moment is over. Time to move on."

He tried to go after the other man but couldn't, unable to move. "John, what are you talking about? John!"

He just kept backing away, fading more and more with each step he took. "There are more storms approaching, Doctor. Be ready."

One step more, and he was gone.

Back in 1913, the Doctor opened his eyes.