Moments 10/14
The Doctor hit the console’s panel more aggressively than he would normally. The Tardis shook her insides in warning. He could be angry all he wanted, it wasn’t her fault.
He slumped down on his chair, his mouth set in a pout. It was stupid to be jealous of himself, he knew this. But…how could she kiss the future him so easily? The Doctor saw her do no such thing when she was traveling with him…
But you did.
Shaking himself, he attempted to ignore the tiny voice at the back of his mind.
That was it. He was ending this journey. Obviously, she wanted the pretty boys so there was no use in even bothering to go back for her. Let her live her life with her idiotic boyfriend and her lovely beans on toast.
The Tardis, having grown tired of his own idiocies, landed harshly causing the almighty Time Lord to fly from his perch and land sideways unceremoniously on his bum.
“Oi!” he yelled up at the ceiling. The Tardis hummed back.
Groaning, he rose up from the floor and walked down the grating to the doors. He hoped to end up on a different planet, light-years away from his former favorite species.
He opened the doors to see…
the inside of a spaceship.
What?
It was dark and empty and he had never seen it before. That was just…odd. He closed the doors of his ship behind him and continued walking down a winding hallway. He was walking so quietly that not even his boots were making a sound.
Turning a corner, he came face to face with his future self. A gasp escaped him, his eyes bulging and his hearts stuttering.
Then, he realized that he was looking at the future him through a two way mirror - he could see his skinny, floppy-haired future self, but could not be seen by him. His hearts normalized. Meeting other regenerations was always a strange occurrence.
Skinny Doctor was in a strange room…18th century he guessed from the furniture. And in the room with him was a blond…but it wasn’t Rose. The woman was wearing a ball gown, and she looked familiar. The Doctor stared at her for a few more moments before it finally dawned on him - that was Madame de Pompadour. He’d read about her before. What was skinny-boy doing? Where was Rose?
Then, before he could ask himself anymore questions, he saw her charge toward the pretty-boy, kissing him with such expertise that even he blushed.
She just kept…kissing him. It seemed to go on forever. Why wasn’t he stopping it? Maybe…
Finally, he heard a voice distantly and Mistress Pompadour detached herself from the Doctor. He appeared unfocused, sorta like when Rose had kissed him - but this was missing something.
Where was Rose?
He saw the Doctor step back onto a fireplace and with a touch, it flipped around and he disappeared.
The Doctor stood against the nearest wall and felt a rush of sadness flow through him. Skinny-boy had been in there for quite awhile. Had Rose still been with him, she would have been there by his side, he’d seen that enough in the past moments he had visited.
What had happened to her? He felt a familiar wrenching of his hearts. Had she died? Had she died because of him? So many questions and no one to answer them.
The silence was deafening.
**
Time passed. He didn’t know how long he had been standing against that wall. Eventually, he heard voices and, against his better judgment, he decided to follow them. He was being careless, but really, this journey was confusing him. It was all looking like more trouble than what it was worth.
But maybe she is worth it.
Again, he ignored the voice and concentrated on the outward voices that were getting louder and clearer. He recognized them. Rose and…Rickey? This was getting all the more confusing.
He remained hidden in the shadows (he wasn’t being that careless). The Doctor was walking around mumbling something or other about Pompadour. Rose was following him with a strange look in her eyes. She looked…hurt. What was that for then?
He wasn’t paying too much attention to what was being said, his focus being mostly on Rose and the fact that she was still with him. What ultimately broke that focus was the Doctor suddenly jumping up on a white horse (where had the horse come from, he wondered) and in a second, he galloped through what appeared to be a mirror. He heard the crashing of its pieces for a mere moment before the pathway was closed up, swallowing up the future Doctor.
Unable to understand what was happening, he looked back to Rose for some idea of what was going on. But as soon as he did so, all he could see was that she was crying. She wasn’t sobbing or anything, no, a couple of tears were streaming slowly down her cheeks, her eyes drowning in the liquid. Rickey the Idiot was raving like a maniac behind her, pacing back and forth. But Rose…Rose just stood there, staring at where the mirror used to be. She was so still that the Doctor had to force himself from walking to her and shaking her out of it.
And then it hit him, the realization of it.
The Doctor had left Rose behind, and from the looks of it…he might not be coming back.
**
Too much was happening in his mind, and yet, not enough.
It was getting to be five and a half hours and so much had happened, but not the one thing that should have happened.
Though, it shouldn’t have been like this in the first place.
Mickey continued to rant and rave for awhile until eventually succumbing to sitting on the floor against the Tardis. He had tried talking to Rose, asking her things, demanding this and that. But they were all questions Rose couldn’t answer.
The Doctor remained in the darkness, watching her. He was useless. This wasn’t his time and it wouldn’t make sense for him to help them now. He was waiting with them, waiting for whatever was to happen, to happen.
And Rose?
Rose had not moved one inch since his future self left her behind. The tears came, but she did not so much as release a whimper into the darkness. The Doctor didn’t want to see her suffer. It had proved to be too much to do so.
But what else could he do?
He couldn’t believe what he had done. And for who.
The future him left it all.
The time traveling, the adventure, the guilt and the choices, the Tardis…
He left it all.
And it wasn’t even for the right person.
The Doctor felt the guilt wash over him…wave after wave. He expected it to stop hurting, to stop feeling it, to eventually become numb. He had expected to walk away by now.
But it didn’t stop and he didn’t leave. He couldn’t leave.
Not anymore.
He waited. Five and a half hours.
The Doctor found that he couldn’t look at her anymore. The hope on her face…the trust that still lived there on a strain of hope…he didn’t deserve it.
He didn’t deserve her.
Suddenly, he heard a clicking noise. The Doctor stood up as he heard cries of happiness and voices. He leaned closer to the edge from his hiding place. The Doctor had come back.
“Right, always wait five and a half hours!” he heard the skinny-boy shout.
The Doctor saw Rose’s smile dim a little.
Always wait five and a half hours? Why should she have to wait at all?
Seems like the future him had forgotten a few things.
Then he saw skinny turn back, away from Rose. He heard him yell for Pompadour.
He would have done anything not to see Rose’s face just then.
The bright smile and the string of hope that had been in her eyes for the past five and a half hours evaporated in a matter of seconds. All it took was one word. One name.
He was bringing her along.
The Doctor stumbled back. He turned around, and headed toward his Tardis.
He couldn’t see the pain on Rose’s face. Not anymore. The pain he had placed there. The pain he was oblivious to.
Was this where the future would bring him? Was this how it was to end?
In a matter of five and a half hours.
***
Eleven
He slumped down on his chair, his mouth set in a pout. It was stupid to be jealous of himself, he knew this. But…how could she kiss the future him so easily? The Doctor saw her do no such thing when she was traveling with him…
But you did.
Shaking himself, he attempted to ignore the tiny voice at the back of his mind.
That was it. He was ending this journey. Obviously, she wanted the pretty boys so there was no use in even bothering to go back for her. Let her live her life with her idiotic boyfriend and her lovely beans on toast.
The Tardis, having grown tired of his own idiocies, landed harshly causing the almighty Time Lord to fly from his perch and land sideways unceremoniously on his bum.
“Oi!” he yelled up at the ceiling. The Tardis hummed back.
Groaning, he rose up from the floor and walked down the grating to the doors. He hoped to end up on a different planet, light-years away from his former favorite species.
He opened the doors to see…
the inside of a spaceship.
What?
It was dark and empty and he had never seen it before. That was just…odd. He closed the doors of his ship behind him and continued walking down a winding hallway. He was walking so quietly that not even his boots were making a sound.
Turning a corner, he came face to face with his future self. A gasp escaped him, his eyes bulging and his hearts stuttering.
Then, he realized that he was looking at the future him through a two way mirror - he could see his skinny, floppy-haired future self, but could not be seen by him. His hearts normalized. Meeting other regenerations was always a strange occurrence.
Skinny Doctor was in a strange room…18th century he guessed from the furniture. And in the room with him was a blond…but it wasn’t Rose. The woman was wearing a ball gown, and she looked familiar. The Doctor stared at her for a few more moments before it finally dawned on him - that was Madame de Pompadour. He’d read about her before. What was skinny-boy doing? Where was Rose?
Then, before he could ask himself anymore questions, he saw her charge toward the pretty-boy, kissing him with such expertise that even he blushed.
She just kept…kissing him. It seemed to go on forever. Why wasn’t he stopping it? Maybe…
Finally, he heard a voice distantly and Mistress Pompadour detached herself from the Doctor. He appeared unfocused, sorta like when Rose had kissed him - but this was missing something.
Where was Rose?
He saw the Doctor step back onto a fireplace and with a touch, it flipped around and he disappeared.
The Doctor stood against the nearest wall and felt a rush of sadness flow through him. Skinny-boy had been in there for quite awhile. Had Rose still been with him, she would have been there by his side, he’d seen that enough in the past moments he had visited.
What had happened to her? He felt a familiar wrenching of his hearts. Had she died? Had she died because of him? So many questions and no one to answer them.
The silence was deafening.
**
Time passed. He didn’t know how long he had been standing against that wall. Eventually, he heard voices and, against his better judgment, he decided to follow them. He was being careless, but really, this journey was confusing him. It was all looking like more trouble than what it was worth.
But maybe she is worth it.
Again, he ignored the voice and concentrated on the outward voices that were getting louder and clearer. He recognized them. Rose and…Rickey? This was getting all the more confusing.
He remained hidden in the shadows (he wasn’t being that careless). The Doctor was walking around mumbling something or other about Pompadour. Rose was following him with a strange look in her eyes. She looked…hurt. What was that for then?
He wasn’t paying too much attention to what was being said, his focus being mostly on Rose and the fact that she was still with him. What ultimately broke that focus was the Doctor suddenly jumping up on a white horse (where had the horse come from, he wondered) and in a second, he galloped through what appeared to be a mirror. He heard the crashing of its pieces for a mere moment before the pathway was closed up, swallowing up the future Doctor.
Unable to understand what was happening, he looked back to Rose for some idea of what was going on. But as soon as he did so, all he could see was that she was crying. She wasn’t sobbing or anything, no, a couple of tears were streaming slowly down her cheeks, her eyes drowning in the liquid. Rickey the Idiot was raving like a maniac behind her, pacing back and forth. But Rose…Rose just stood there, staring at where the mirror used to be. She was so still that the Doctor had to force himself from walking to her and shaking her out of it.
And then it hit him, the realization of it.
The Doctor had left Rose behind, and from the looks of it…he might not be coming back.
**
Too much was happening in his mind, and yet, not enough.
It was getting to be five and a half hours and so much had happened, but not the one thing that should have happened.
Though, it shouldn’t have been like this in the first place.
Mickey continued to rant and rave for awhile until eventually succumbing to sitting on the floor against the Tardis. He had tried talking to Rose, asking her things, demanding this and that. But they were all questions Rose couldn’t answer.
The Doctor remained in the darkness, watching her. He was useless. This wasn’t his time and it wouldn’t make sense for him to help them now. He was waiting with them, waiting for whatever was to happen, to happen.
And Rose?
Rose had not moved one inch since his future self left her behind. The tears came, but she did not so much as release a whimper into the darkness. The Doctor didn’t want to see her suffer. It had proved to be too much to do so.
But what else could he do?
He couldn’t believe what he had done. And for who.
The future him left it all.
The time traveling, the adventure, the guilt and the choices, the Tardis…
He left it all.
And it wasn’t even for the right person.
The Doctor felt the guilt wash over him…wave after wave. He expected it to stop hurting, to stop feeling it, to eventually become numb. He had expected to walk away by now.
But it didn’t stop and he didn’t leave. He couldn’t leave.
Not anymore.
He waited. Five and a half hours.
The Doctor found that he couldn’t look at her anymore. The hope on her face…the trust that still lived there on a strain of hope…he didn’t deserve it.
He didn’t deserve her.
Suddenly, he heard a clicking noise. The Doctor stood up as he heard cries of happiness and voices. He leaned closer to the edge from his hiding place. The Doctor had come back.
“Right, always wait five and a half hours!” he heard the skinny-boy shout.
The Doctor saw Rose’s smile dim a little.
Always wait five and a half hours? Why should she have to wait at all?
Seems like the future him had forgotten a few things.
Then he saw skinny turn back, away from Rose. He heard him yell for Pompadour.
He would have done anything not to see Rose’s face just then.
The bright smile and the string of hope that had been in her eyes for the past five and a half hours evaporated in a matter of seconds. All it took was one word. One name.
He was bringing her along.
The Doctor stumbled back. He turned around, and headed toward his Tardis.
He couldn’t see the pain on Rose’s face. Not anymore. The pain he had placed there. The pain he was oblivious to.
Was this where the future would bring him? Was this how it was to end?
In a matter of five and a half hours.
***
Eleven