𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐏 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 , doctor who

xii. february 29th, 1556

journal entry #9 AN ENTRY ON THE VISIT
DURING THE YEAR OF OUR LORD, 1556.

Looking back on that day, my 32nd birthday was one I regret to the fullest extent. Moping about as if I were a child, while my actual children were across the house with their mothers and father wondering why their second father would not join them.

I was so deep in my pity that I did not know my timeless friend had arrived until he placed his hand onto my sagged shoulder.

"That was quite the warm welcome, Abraham," his Scottish accent teased. It was not a light tease. His voice was heavy with understanding.

"Apologies, my friend," I muttered in return. I pinched the bridge of my nose, before gesturing for him to sit beside me. The fireplace crackled before us, the only comfort I had had that day before he arrived.

The Doctor, my phoenix, scoffed after a beat of silence. "And what's the matter, Abe? Spin me the tale, wealthy man."

He did not mean for his words to be harsh. That is just the way this face operated, I knew. I could tell he only meant well by the way he leaned forward and tried to meet my eyes with his calculating gaze.

"I met an orphan today," I remember whispering with dread in my voice. "She was just running about on our property, near the woods."

"There's plenty of orphaned kids in England nowadays," The Doctor hummed in his peculiar way of attempting to ease my concerns. "Short lifespans, unfair wages, all of that good old stuff that doesn't change until the Industrial Revolution. So why did this one catch the attention of rich old Abraham?"

"She requested that I visit her again before she ran off." I did not have to explain myself further before The Doctor's wrinkled face fell with somberness. "A person could truly have not a pence to their name and still value companionship more. Outstanding."

"Never truer words, Abraham," he chuckled. "You've gotten wiser."

"It's the old age, my friend."

"Old age." He scoffed at the irony of my phrase. I knew that I had barely lived compared to the millenniums he had endured. I did not care. "Will you visit her?"

"Of course. I must repay my debt." He knew what I meant. "Certainly, if she agrees, I shall take her to find a good home. I hear the nobles across the way are infertile."

"See, you've got it all worked out. You melodramatic humans seem to pout for the hell of it." I chuckled in amusement at the thought.

We spent the rest of the day by one another. The Doctor insisted we play a few games with Horatio and Glen despite how grown they had become. He talked a short while with Kasey and Francesca while I helped Jesabele fix dinner.

He held all of us close that night. When the dark veil of night drew near, we retreated back to my study and sat in a comfortable silence. He tempted fate several times, pushing his luck by staying until midnight was basically pushing him out the door herself.

When it came time to say our goodbyes, I tried to ignore the heartbroken look he tried to cover. He hugged me tight that night, tighter than any night before. It was a hug of desperation. Of farewell.

The Doctor knew something that I did not at the time. He was the Ruler of Time, after all, and had already witnessed our ending ages ago.