The Doctor continues to be in a tight body ball on the sofa. He is listening. And what Oscar is saying does make sense.
There's a pause after Oscar speaks. Ten is, unfortunately understanding more and more all those graves of his - from alternate dimensions. The times that this face didn't have a human at this side. Allowing himself to go too far. Being the hero and literally going up in a blaze of glory somehow. And it wasn't just because Rose wasn't there. It wasn't just the pain from that. The pain he felt when she imploded here. And how someone acted the months after that. Nearly, going up in a blaze of glory. Now, he's wondering, if it's also because he didn't want to change, on top of that. Would he really choose a permanent death over changing his face?
At least, Ten had his fit. His breakdown. He loves his face. This face. There's a loud exhale. In a worn voice, "I'm tired of changing. I thought I could use my last two regenerations like this." Ten thumbs through Oscar's hair. It is a great comfort to have company that can get it.
Somehow, Oscar understood. There was a part of him that was older than his civilization that longed for nothing more than rest and release. He had witnessed that first hand with Salem... and yet...
He had the opportunity to be the person he was meant to be, and he didn't want to lose it.
Hesitating, Oscar gingerly accepted The Doctor's hand into his own.
The Doctor shares with Oscar one of his memories. Of his former incarnation. His Ninth self snogging Rose. Talking about how he needs to take the time vortex out of her. Oscar will hear Ten telepathically.
He died for her. And he became someone that he thought Rose would prefer
And there was a bit of the cheeky Jack Harkness influence in all of that. Given Nine isn't one to be cheeky.
Ten stops the shared memory. The Doctor looks at Oscar. Non-verbally asking 'do you understand?' In those brown eyes is pain. The pain of someone who doesn't want to say goodbye to the mortal.
The Doctor already spoke with Gwen Poole. Soon after Rose imploded. Asking Gween Poole if his former face did the right thing. Falling in love with a moral. Gwen made a good point. You don't choose who we fall in love with.
He did understand-- in the strange way that a young person understood the complexities of the world and civilization after they had been given access to the fountain of all of the information known to humanity. Oscar didn't want to know, but he recognized that ache.
It was the same as what he had envisioned and felt within himself when he observed Ozma's repeated attempts to regain the woman he had lost-- and, failing that, tried to save both her and the very world from herself.
"Doctor," Oscar said quietly, reaching for the man's hands.
"You love her, and you did what anyone would do if they had the chance. But... you can't just live for one person. Not with the kind of life people like you and I lead."
He sighed, and squeezed those hands.
"You've got to live for yourself too. Whatever that looks like. And, if it's Jelly Babies and tea? If that's a chance you find with a different face and a different way of seeing the world? That's... not a bad thing.
"It's... scary. Everything that's different can be scary. But that doesn't make it bad."
The Doctor knows in his hearts; that some of his older faces wouldn't have done that. Sacrificing themself for a person. He knows Oscar is right. And tries to block the memory of having seen Rose implode in this place and the aftermath of that. Of him being cold and cruel. If anything Oscar might get a sensation that those words are correct.
There's an exhale, "That's... one of the main reasons I'm attached to Jack. Part human. Part immortal."
Then a sudden feeling of fear; "That was an old face of mine. With jellybabies." Though he still enjoys those.
"And I'm quite tired of changing my face." Something about his voice sounds like a cat being rubbed the wrong way. "I love who I am right now. Thank you very much."
Oscar said quietly, matching the tired expression with a soft, bitter smile that ill befitted a young teen. He knew that feeling too well; it was the crux of his own dilemmas with their version of immortality.
"Loving yourself is one of the most important things anyone can do for themselves. But... no matter how much we love ourselves or want life to be different, it doesn't change the reality of our nature."
It was a fact Oscar was struggling with himself, and finding his own resolution for.
"So you've gotta ask yourself... what sort of things do you want to be remembered for? What can you do so your friends are proud when they talk about you?"
Ten rubs his chin for a moment, "Being The Doctor." Ten remarks. Almost like that is more than just a name for himself. That this may be some kind of psychology or personal moral code.
"Exactly." The Doctor grins broadly like a Cheshire Cat. Ten will give Oscar a moment to try and figure this out on his own. Someone believes Oscar is clever.
The Doctor gives a slow and relict head nod. Quite a few of his faces know that. Still, that doesn't change the fact of him wanting to have done better, after the fact. And definitely didn't excuse War Doctor's final decision.
"I have my name for a reason," The Doctor remarks, "Because I want to help out and make things better. Even if it's just a tiny bit better than before I was thar."
That's how he wants to be remembered. Not as the Destroyer of Worlds, like some in his universe would whisper about him.
The Doctor inhales deeply for a moment. And holds his breath. Saying at Oscar like he's seen a ghost. He doesn't mean too. At the end of the day, it comes down to the fact of -he's clever. Thus very egotistic and getting something wrong doesn't settle with him. And it's even worse when his mistake costs lives. He's just - so tired of everything burning, Oscar. The Doctor releases his breathe slowly. There is a clear and deep look of guilt. However, he still can't justify that face's action. In a dry remark replies,
He stated this with the grave certainty that a boy of fifteen ought not have-- but there was no hiding the shadows that lurked in his gaze as he watched the Doctor, his lip caught in his teeth as he struggled under the weight of an immortal's uncertainty.
Oscar may have only been fifteen... but the depth of the magic he carried was older than his civilization.
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Re: [Action] CW: mentions of semi suicidal
There's a pause after Oscar speaks. Ten is, unfortunately understanding more and more all those graves of his - from alternate dimensions. The times that this face didn't have a human at this side. Allowing himself to go too far. Being the hero and literally going up in a blaze of glory somehow. And it wasn't just because Rose wasn't there. It wasn't just the pain from that. The pain he felt when she imploded here. And how someone acted the months after that. Nearly, going up in a blaze of glory. Now, he's wondering, if it's also because he didn't want to change, on top of that. Would he really choose a permanent death over changing his face?
Ten only manages to choke out this
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Oscar shifted along the sofa, careful of his still bandaged stump of a leg, and leaned over to rest his head on the Doctor's shoulder.
"I know."
He said quietly.
"I don't either. That's part of what makes us who we are."
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"I know you're tired. It gets tiring. But, even people like us can't stop the clock."
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The Doctor sighs, he's counterintuitive with wanting to rest and to keep going. This just boils down to his own mental health on those days.
"Can I show you something?" Ten offers his hand to Oscar.
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He had the opportunity to be the person he was meant to be, and he didn't want to lose it.
Hesitating, Oscar gingerly accepted The Doctor's hand into his own.
"What are you going to do?"
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He died for her. And he became someone that he thought Rose would prefer
And there was a bit of the cheeky Jack Harkness influence in all of that. Given Nine isn't one to be cheeky.
Ten stops the shared memory. The Doctor looks at Oscar. Non-verbally asking 'do you understand?' In those brown eyes is pain. The pain of someone who doesn't want to say goodbye to the mortal.
The Doctor already spoke with Gwen Poole. Soon after Rose imploded. Asking Gween Poole if his former face did the right thing. Falling in love with a moral. Gwen made a good point. You don't choose who we fall in love with.
(Video starts at 2:33)
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It was the same as what he had envisioned and felt within himself when he observed Ozma's repeated attempts to regain the woman he had lost-- and, failing that, tried to save both her and the very world from herself.
"Doctor," Oscar said quietly, reaching for the man's hands.
"You love her, and you did what anyone would do if they had the chance. But... you can't just live for one person. Not with the kind of life people like you and I lead."
He sighed, and squeezed those hands.
"You've got to live for yourself too. Whatever that looks like. And, if it's Jelly Babies and tea? If that's a chance you find with a different face and a different way of seeing the world? That's... not a bad thing.
"It's... scary. Everything that's different can be scary. But that doesn't make it bad."
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He knows Oscar is right. And tries to block the memory of having seen Rose implode in this place and the aftermath of that. Of him being cold and cruel. If anything Oscar might get a sensation that those words are correct.
There's an exhale, "That's... one of the main reasons I'm attached to Jack. Part human. Part immortal."
Then a sudden feeling of fear; "That was an old face of mine. With jellybabies." Though he still enjoys those.
"And I'm quite tired of changing my face." Something about his voice sounds like a cat being rubbed the wrong way. "I love who I am right now. Thank you very much."
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Oscar said quietly, matching the tired expression with a soft, bitter smile that ill befitted a young teen. He knew that feeling too well; it was the crux of his own dilemmas with their version of immortality.
"Loving yourself is one of the most important things anyone can do for themselves. But... no matter how much we love ourselves or want life to be different, it doesn't change the reality of our nature."
It was a fact Oscar was struggling with himself, and finding his own resolution for.
"So you've gotta ask yourself... what sort of things do you want to be remembered for? What can you do so your friends are proud when they talk about you?"
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"But.... that's already who you are." He replied quietly. "What do you mean?"
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"You... want to be the best version of You, don't you?"
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Oscar uttered quietly, thinking about how many of his previous... faces were merely men-- and not even very good ones.
"And, maybe in those situations, that was the best any of your faces could have done at the time. Life... isn't as simple as it looks."
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"I have my name for a reason," The Doctor remarks, "Because I want to help out and make things better. Even if it's just a tiny bit better than before I was thar."
That's how he wants to be remembered. Not as the Destroyer of Worlds, like some in his universe would whisper about him.
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Oscar suggested patiently. A part of him, buried underneath layers of teenage desire to find themselves, knew what this felt like.
"No one is perfect. Even Doctors."
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"Getting it wrong costs lives."
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"So does everything else."
He stated this with the grave certainty that a boy of fifteen ought not have-- but there was no hiding the shadows that lurked in his gaze as he watched the Doctor, his lip caught in his teeth as he struggled under the weight of an immortal's uncertainty.
Oscar may have only been fifteen... but the depth of the magic he carried was older than his civilization.