Homecoming
Takes place after this thread.
The Doctor was sitting. The Doctor was sitting in the dark. He was sitting in the dark, fully dressed and stretched across his bed. The bed her shared with Rose.
Rose, who had not come home tonight. He knew she'd gone to see his future self, knew what that usually meant, and the same insecurities as usual were eating away at his gut while he sat in the dark, waiting.
He hated feeling insecure. He was the Doctor, for Rassilon's sake. But it didn't stop him. Rose Tyler had made him more than just domestic, she'd made him a little human. Despite the disgust he felt at himself, despite the pain, despite the fights they sometimes had... it was worth it. That was such a small part of what the two of them had, and he'd turn the universe inside out for her. Suffering some jealousy and insecurity was nothing.
Still, it didn't stop him from waiting up, in the dark, expecting her to come home smelling of another Doctor, mascara smudged from tears and anger. He knew how these things went.
So when the TARDIS softly informed him that she was back, he didn't move. He just sat. Sat and waited, and when she opened the door to their room he unfolded his arms. "Welcome home."