@starchristened ( continued )
He tries to be steady, he tries so hard to be still though instinct tells him to move, to run. One thing could make him stay and she's denying it from him. Maybe it's for the best she won't look at him. He can only imagine the pain, the hurt, the bitterness, the anger that must be swelling in the pools of blue.
He'd FAILED Rory. He'd failed her.
I only want to make things right.
And yet, for a Time Lord, he had a terrible sense of timing. Too late to help and he'd already bent the rules of time enough to make crossing back into her timeline too great a risk. He had to try once more. He did, and this was the result.
He'd failed again. Stubbornly, he refused to see it as an attempt in vain. Even against his better judgment, he had to try – and here was the fruit of his efforts: one Pond, alive and (not so) well. Teeth dig hard into his bottom lip, but it doesn't hurt. It doesn't compare to the agony of being torn apart from someone so dear. His silence does not mean APATHY or a lack of understanding. He's familiar with the strained cadence that comes with trying to hold yourself together. ( He's lost his share of friends. He knows how the weight of an absence can shatter. )
Yet still, he tries to be hopeful. ( What did he have at the end of it all, if not hope? – Empty hands and hollow absences without promise of meaning, of return. )
"It doesn't have to be." There's a shake in his voice, like he's choked on the words but forces them out. “Pond –”
And there's an apology ( I can't save him, I'm so sorry ),
a question ( is this where we end? ),
a plea ( please ) all wrapped into one exhale like it's his last hope.