Title: Alone
Series: none yet...thinking about it.
Characters/Pairing: Ten, with mentions of Ten/Rose and Ten II/Rose
Rating: T (because of all the angst.)
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, but I wish I owned David Tennant and John Barrowman.
Spoilers: Ten's thoughts after Journey's End. (for those who don't know titles of the episodes, it's the VERY LAST episode of season 4)
Author's Notes: UN-BETA-ED! If I didn't have to go to bed right now, I'd be writing the first chapter of the untitled story that is to come immediately after this one. I was watching the end of the series again and I HAD to write this little snippet of angst filled Ten. This can stand alone, or it can be the prologue to the chapter fic I was thinking of when I had the urge to write this. Comments much appreciated, flames will be manipulated by Roy Mustang.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

He stood alone in the console room, quiet and…sad. After everything, everyone who had helped him become the man (alien?) that he was today, he still had that feeling in the pit of his stomach that he was alone. He had known all along, hadn't he? He had known that he would always be alone. He had known from the day he stole (saved, really) the TARDIS, and it had become especially clear when his home planet was destroyed. He knew when he was all big ears and angry, when he kissed her to save her life. He knew even shortly before that, when he sent her home- to live. To be happy. He didn't deserve happiness, but she certainly did. Beautiful, lovely, wise, brilliant Rose Tyler…his Rose.

He began to pace around the room. No, she wasn't his Rose anymore- well technically she was his Rose, just not THIS him. And even that thought wasn't comforting. He knew what he was doing. She would be safe…she would be happy- wouldn't she? She kissed him, hadn't she? So why did she have that look in her eyes…that want, that need, that…hopelessness. Yes, that's what was in her eyes when he climbed into his ship with Donna. Hopelessness. She may have had a clone- a living, breathing, person- who could die without a second chance, get a mortgage, get married, raise a family…but she could never have him- and he could never have her. But she would learn to love him. His Rose, so full of light and love, she would learn to love this Doctor-who-was-not-quite-him. She would learn to love him the way she learned to love this messy haired, skinny, and not ginger Doctor. She fell in love with his old self- big ears and leather jacket, and a habit of saying fantastic (which he thought suited him well…he loved the word). Even after doubting it was really him, she fell in love again…and so she would again with him-but-not-him.

Donna.

He stopped in his pacing as his vision began to blur. His eyes were wet…he was crying. He angrily wiped the tears from his eyes as his nostrils flared. He was getting sentimental in his old age. Time Lords did not cry- at least not over any silly human. Nothing was as insignificant as some stupid apes who tended to get in trouble, and more often than not, needed help getting OUT of said trouble. But it was fun. He wasn't kidding anyone with the thought that they were insignificant. He loved them. All of them. But Donna. He could have traveled with her forever. Donna Noble. The Doctor and Donna, best mates and travel companions. It may not have been the same feeling, but she filled that empty void that Rose had left behind. He cried over Rose the first time. He had truly thought he had lost her for good. And now he did. And now Donna wasn't there with her fiery hair and personality, yelling, and remarks, and calling him "martian" or "spaceman." No Donna somehow appearing on his TARDIS with a wedding dress, accusing him of kidnapping her. There wasn't going to be. Ever. After he met Donna the first time she'd gone home. He traveled with Martha, then when she decided to leave him, he stumbled upon Donna again. Just what the Doctor needed. A friend, and nothing more…and yet she was so much more. And now he can't even visit her again. Not like Sarah Jane, not like Martha, not like Jack. He missed Donna almost as much as he missed Rose, and now neither were ever going to be back in his life- they couldn't…not without dire consequences and risks that he was not about to take when it came to those two strong, beautiful, courageous women.

He was a walking entity of bad luck. Everything around him, everything he touched…he brought destruction…he brought pain and anguish…he turned people into things they were not.

He turned Martha Jones into a soldier. If he hadn't met Captain Jack Harkness, Jack would have been a normal 51st century man who could die and not have the burden of living forever. Sarah Jane…he broke her heart. And that was one thing he could not stand. How could she still care, and still have enough love in her pure and young (despite her own protests against that word in reference to herself) heart, to care about her Doctor. Her Doctor that has changed his face so many times since the last time they traveled side by side on a regular basis. Rose was like her in that aspect.

Those tears were slowly falling again and this time he just let them fall. He sat in his chair and looked about the empty console room. Rose's room was still there on his ship. He wanted to show her. He wanted to show how he didn't touch anything of hers and that it would always be there for her when she came back to him. If she came back to him.

She was never coming back.

He was destined to be alone.