I don't own Doctor Who and if I did I would probably have destroyed it by accident so be thankful.
This story was written around midnight after I saw a brief glimpse of a music video during my channel surfing and my imagination would not let me sleep. It's not exactly lengthy and although I was tempted to just carry on writing I feel there are enough fanfics out there that deal with the story after nightmares, I just needed to get this nightmare out of my head. Enjoy.
In his dream Rose stood in a spotlight which was surrounded by a ravenous darkness. The longer he looked the more he was sure that there were others in there, figures that looped and swayed, ducked and spun. They would brush the barrier created by the light but he could never make out who or what they were. Rosie stood stock still, feet together, arms at her side and the only things that showed an awareness of her situation were her clenched fists. He tried to call out to her but her eyes remained fixed ahead. The dancers kept dancing.
Time passed, he wasn't sure how much time - it had felt like hours but it may have only been seconds. He thought it odd that he, a time lord, wasn't able to tell the passage of time but that though quickly flitted out of his mind as he noticed Rose's lips had started moving. Through the dazzling light he could only just make out what she was saying and the whisper reached him, even over the whisper of cloth and the patter of a hundred feet. She was repeating his name over and over again under her breath as if it was a talisman against the unseen threat "Doctor, Doctor, Doctor, Doctor, Doctor..." his eyes drifted closed against the piercing pain of helplessness He had tried to move, to shout, to gain control and change his dream but nothing had worked. He was an observer, nothing more and it was torture. With his eyes closed he listened to scene and finally identified the sound that had been lingering under them all. The one that made his hearts clench in fear, the sound of blades being sliced through the air. He could see them now, glinting as they caught the light when they drew too close to Rose. The dancers kept dancing.
Uncountable time passed and the Doctor watched Rose intently as she started to crack under the pressure. He knew that she would be trying to work out a way to escape and that the inability to do anything was driving her almost as mad as it was him. Her shoulders were tense now, her back ridged and her hands were still balled into fists but they were now trembling with the strain of holding still, her blue eyes were wide and darted around, trying desperately to see something but the one thing The Doctor really noticed was that she had kept up her litanyand although it had grown faster it hadn't grown any louder, as if she was afraid or drawing any attention to herself. Ah my dear Rose he thought to himself my dear, sweet, brave Rose, in the eye of the storm and still standing tall but his hearts, which were swelling with pride, suddenly remembered the reality of the situation. There was no way out, he was helpless to save her, she was helpless to escape and he could see by the fear in her eyes that Rose had come to the same conclusion. It was then that he realised what she would do. He battered against his invisible bonds desperate to stop her, desperate to save her but they did not give, they did not even loosen slightly and he watched in horror as her face hardened into resolve and she took one step and went in the darkness. The Doctor screamed. Rose screamed. And the dancers kept dancing.