Another Take That inspired story! This one is called Butterfly. It is a beautiful song; listen to it if you haven't heard it! It might help you understand the story a little more, but I'm not sure. It is such a beautiful song though.

Butterfly

"Rose, there's nothing I can do, I'm sorry. The illness has progressed too far. I can't cure it." The nurse said to her, he sounded regretful. The Doctor sat on the chair a little way from the bed, his head in his hands as he tried to take in all this. He couldn't look at anyone; he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Rose-his Rose-was fading away and there was nothing that anyone could do for her. She was like a butterfly flying away for the place where she lived. Her life was almost as short as a butterfly's to.

"Thank you." Rose croaked, she was feeling very ill, but still managed to say to the nurse a thank you. The Doctor looked up at the nurse, there was no emotion in his eyes and Rose felt like this was all her fault that she was doing this to the Doctor.

When she had first started feeling ill, she thought it was nothing, that it was just a passing bug that would go away in a couple of days. She hadn't said anything to the Doctor at the time, she now wished she had. The Doctor didn't know that she was ill until she collapsed just before the Doctor finished setting the controls for the adventure he had planned. If only Rose had told him when she first got sick, she might not be dying right in front of the man she loved, causing him pain that he didn't need to have.

The nurse left the Doctor and Rose alone. When he had gone the Doctor went over to Rose's side and held her hand.

"I'm sorry," Rose apologised.

"Why are you apologising?" The Doctor asked, he had tears in his eyes, but refused to let them fall.

"Because, if I had told you I was sick to begin with, then I might not be dying at the moment." Rose told him.

"It's not your fault Rose, OK?"

"But if I had told you, then you could have done something." The Doctor shushed her.

"Hey, it's my fault; I should have noticed that you were getting ill." The Doctor told her.

"I didn't want you to know. I thought it would go away after a few days. I couldn't stand you fussing over me. I never liked being fussed over." Rose told him.

"I know, but I'm your best friend I should have seen it before it was too late." The Doctor told her.

"I am sorry though, Doctor." Rose said, she was becoming weaker and weaker as they continued to talk.

"I know, I am too."

"I don't want to die."

"Shush, I know." The tears in the Doctor's eyes were flowing freely now, he couldn't hold them any longer.

They sat like that for a while, just talking about nothing important, knowing that this could be the last time they ever spoke to each other. Every now and again Rose would fall asleep and the Doctor would think that she was gone, but every time she awoke and the Doctor let out the breath he was holding. But every time she did that, Rose became weaker, her colour completely drained by now. She looked awful and the Doctor knew she didn't have long to go.

Suddenly, Rose began to have breathing difficulties. The Doctor held her hand tighter and put the other hand behind her head. Rose looked at him; they both knew it was time.

"Doctor..." Rose gasped.

"Shush, Rose, it's OK." He told her.

"I wish it was." Rose was struggling to get a sentence out now. "I think it's time."

"I know, let go, just let go." The Doctor told her, tears rolling down his face.

"I don't want to go," Rose said.

"I know, sweetheart, I don't want you to go either, but you have to. Just let go and fly away." The Doctor told her. He pressed his lips to hers for the first time that they both could remember and the first time that it meant something, but this was also the last kiss that they would ever share. When they pulled back, the Doctor put his hand behind Rose's head and gently placed her head back on the pillow, knowing that she was gone. She had flown away for here.

A tear fell from the Doctor's eyes and landed on the bed. Soon, he was sobbing for the loss of the woman he loved, the woman who had stolen his hearts, the woman he had never admitted his true feelings to; and now it was too late. She was gone: forever.

...

The Doctor cried and cried, knowing that he was now alone once again. He had lost his everything, his life. He wasn't sure how he was going to live without Rose by his side, smiling at him with excitement. He would try and find someone else; it was what Rose would have wanted for him. She wouldn't want him to be on his own. She would want him to be happy. How he was going to do that, he didn't know.

...

The Doctor walked back to the TARDIS one day. It had been 3 days since Rose's death. He hadn't met anyone yet, he stayed clear from people.

It was spring, there were flowers, bees and butterflies everywhere brightening everywhere he went, but for the Doctor the world was dark.

He was close to the TARDIS when this rose-red butterfly landed on his shoulder. He looked at it and smiled. The butterfly flew into his hand and the Doctor continued to look at it.

"Hello," he said. The butterfly looked at him. There was something about this butterfly that was familiar, but the Doctor couldn't put his finger on it. The Butterfly stayed on his hand for a while before flying off with its kind. The Doctor watched it fly away, tears in his eyes once again, not that they had yet left him. There hadn't been a day since the day Rose died where the Doctor didn't cry, whether it was just a few tears or full-on sobs, he would cry for his loss.

The Doctor opened the TARDIS doors and walked inside. Maybe that butterfly he had seen was a sign. For what, he didn't know.

Like it? Hate it? Not sure? Personally, I'm not sure. Once I get into this, I think it should be all right.

Please review!

OAO

TakeThatTakeThis! XD :~