When They Become Concerned (Part 5)

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A/N: I'm not sure if this is triggering but just in case it is, please proceed with caution as this chapter contains heavy alcohol use and intense desperation.

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It had been months since your last correspondence and still, the Doctor was struggling to adjust to life without you. Unlike you, she still had her darkness to tame. Something that was easier said than done.

Some days she felt that she could rule the world that, nothing could stand in her way in her journey to recovery but then there were the more difficult days, the ones where she could hardly function or think of anything but you.

Bill knew that it was a bad day. One of the days where the Doctor stumbled in drunk at 4 in the morning, reeking of alcohol but loverless. When she was loverless, it was a bad day. Lovers lifted her mood, provided her with something she would otherwise have to pay for.

But it was not one of those good nights, it was a bad one. Bill watched as the Time Lord returned to her empty TARDIS, green beer bottle in hand and clothing rumpled. She noticed the lipstick marks on her collar but where was the inebriated companion? Bill assumed that they had had their fun but did not care about the Doctor's needs.

The female was desperate to ask the other if she was okay but Bill knew that with this particular situation, it was always better to remain silent and allow the episode to pass, rather than interfere with matters that 'did not concern her'. They did concern Bill though, she cared deeply about her friend and it distressed the female to see her in this state of mind.

The Doctor stumbled into the living room, taking care not to trip over the intricate rug you had purchased when you both had first move into the spaceship. She hated the rug but you had insisted that it would look good and 'brighten up the place'.

With you absent, the drinking and the multiple partners had become a regular pastime in her life. Initially it had just been the drinking but soon the lovers had been added into the equation. Lovers made things all the more enjoyable when drunk but all the more painful when she woke up the in morning next to a stranger, whose name she couldn't even remember.

She walked over to the window that overlooked the magnificent city. In the early morning light, the apartment buildings were bathed in a soft, violet hue. Everything looked powdery soft, unlike at night when the neon lights are blaring and the city was a blur with noise and life. No, at this time everything was much calmer and pleasant.

She felt dead inside. She saw no beauty in the landscape before her. The rising sun only ever reminded him now that it was going to be another day she had to face with Bill's disapproving gaze.

Leaning her head on the glass, her vision was blurred by the involuntary tears that now escaped her red, sore eyes. The salt stung as it made trails down the Doctor's cheeks. The Time Lord  embraced the pain, it reminded her that she was still alive. It cut through the alcohol's anaesthetic affect. Her agony was no longer numbed by the toxic substances she had consumed but were now brought to the surface.

She sunk to the floor, reduced to a quivering mess. The cool wood felt coarse against her cheek as she leant against it. This was how she spent most of her free time, crying over her loss.

Bill could no longer watch the Doctor suffer in such a way. To verbally question the other's actions was a waste of time and energy. Instead she had another method that she had found occasionally helpful and would sometimes provided her with a respite from the pain.

Searching through her records, Bill came across just what she was looking for. In a matter of moments, the soft voice of a singer gently spread through the apartment, filling every dark corner with it's light and breathy voice. This song was one of the Doctor's favourites.

She instantly recognised it and for a minute, forgot about her sorrow. She listened silently, memorising each lyric carefully.

As the Doctor  sat there against the window, her eyelids began to feel heavy. She wasn't sure if the tiredness was from the alcohol or the song. Whatever was causing it, she was grateful for the oncoming blissful unaware. She welcomed anything that may ease her of the grey clouds that plagued her mind.

Just as she was about to slip away, she knew that he had someone to thank. Booze and lovers were not enough to fill the void left in her heart, caused only by her own recklessness. She only had herself to blame.

Thankfully she had someone watching out for her. "G'night, Bill." she slurred.

"Goodnight, Docor." she replied, allowing the track's soothing melody to carry her friend into a hopefully, peaceful sleep...

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