Part 3

Since I'm still getting the odd request for this bit a year or so later, I thought I might try. I was discouraged by some rather mean reviews to some of my other stories so I procrastinated…

Post Angels Take Manhattan…I cried during that episode.

Barbara never thought she'd see the Doctor again after his good bye at Cambridge. He said he was going to die once and for all.

I guess even a time traveler has to die sometime.

Barbara thought back to all the adventures she had had with the Doctor and Susan and Ian. She thought of how hurt he looked when they asked to leave the TARDIS. She'd never forgotten that tantrum. He'd been so selfish, dragging them along on his travels without wanting them there and then nearly refusing to let them leave. It was…hard to watch.

And then it was 1969 and a much younger looking, shorter, funnier Doctor had waltzed back into their lives while vacationing in America. The Doctor had aged another four hundred years but it didn't seem like it. Not until Barbara had looked at his eyes.

In 2010, he'd shown up again—twice in one day for them, twice in 200 plus years for him. He was supposed to have died after that.

So why was he sitting in New York, in a park by a picnic basket holding a piece of paper like it was his lifeline? Was this a younger version? Barbara had only come here for a special history exhibit at the Natural History Museum. Cambridge was sponsoring it so she got to travel to America for free. She never expected to run into him here. Surely there were more exciting places in time to travel to.

The Doctor pocketed the page and leaned back. Barbara couldn't decide whether he needed to be left alone or if he really needed a hug. She crossed over to him. He didn't notice her at first until she was right in front of him. He looked up. It was like he didn't recognize her at first…even though she still had not started aging.

"Barbara," he smiled slightly but it was forced like he didn't actually want to smile.

"Doctor," she smiled down at him. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head and stood up slowly—the way a tired old man stands up.

"Where are we, Barbara Chesterton?" he asked.

"Last time I saw you was when you were at Cambridge."

"I see. I told you I was dying," he chuckled. "Dodged that one."

"How? I thought you said…it was unavoidable," she remembered.

"That's what I thought…but an opportunity presented itself…and I took it. I have to wonder though…if I hadn't, would they have still…?" he trails off and shakes his head. "Can't think like that," he scolds himself and takes a deep breath.

"Doctor, is something wrong?" Barbara asked. The man looked exhausted.

"I just…hate endings."

"I know," she smiled. "When Ian and I left…"

The Doctor laughed like it was a pleasant memory. It was an honest laugh this time. "I brooded for a week. It was almost worse than when Susan left," he chuckled and then offered her his arm. She took it.

"How old are you now?" she asked as they started walking.

"Oh…Twelve hundred years? I'm starting to lose count."

Barbara could tell he was distracted…and that was putting it lightly. The Doctor seemed lifeless…maybe he didn't dodge his death after all and this specter was just an echo. Because that is how he looked to Barbara right at this moment.

"Am I bothering you?" she asked and the Doctor snapped to look at her.

"No," he said after a minute. "To quote a…friend…I shouldn't be alone."

"You don't have to say anything," Barbara took his hand and for a moment her Doctor, the old Doctor was holding her hand.

"You're about to cry," he observed.

"No…but you clearly want to," she countered. He froze again and almost let go of her hand but she didn't let him.

"You and Ian were right to leave…and I was right to stay away," he started, the rate of his breathing becoming more and more irregular. "I was upset…like a child was upset. And like a child I moved on…and on…and on. Now that I'm…older…" he trailed off again.

Barbara squeezed his hand and he squeezed back. "The universe is playing for higher stakes. All of the things I've seen and done and lost…and I can't leave well enough alone…ever. You left and I was good, I stayed away and you have led a normal, fantastic life with Ian. I got too selfish after you left. Started taking risks my first life never would have. I let it get so out of hand…one adventure too many and suddenly my friends, my companions either wanted to leave or were forced to or…" he tore his hand from hers and stopped walking.

"Why can't I ever learn?" he demanded in harsh voice but he wasn't angry at her…only at himself. "Why should anyone travel with me?"

Barbara took his shoulders and pulled him into a hug. For a moment he resisted and then he melted down.

"I don't regret those two years we spent traveling. I learned so much…I married the love of my life after we got back. Ian would go on and on about your temper but he never stopped smiling. I don't know what has happened to you recently, Doctor and I don't think you're able to tell me…but I know you and I know you did everything you could. You wouldn't be like this if you hadn't exhausted every option," she whispered to him and felt his breathing even out only slightly. She released him from the hug but didn't let go of him. "All those times our lives were in danger…it was worth the risk." She said and his eyes widened for a fraction of a second.

He smiled again—still fake and forced but better than the first one. "Barbara Wright. Always the teacher. Just when you think you can't learn anything else…" he kissed her hand. "Good bye."

Barbara let him go and the Doctor turned his back and still looking far older than his face would ever let on trudged away.

"You keep saying that…" she muttered to herself.