doctor who fic!let: my memory box is trapped in black matter;
reunion!fic
ten/rose
pg;
post journey's end;
One year:there are times when she cries. cries and doesn't know why a pain nags at the edges of her heart; it's a pitiful thing, her mother says. let's go to America. but Rose Tyler is stronger than that. no, she says firmly, that is not where we will go. i will stay here.
strange thing is, she doesn't even know where she is anymore.
Five years: the wind blows fiercely into her hair, as she stares back at the ocean. the waves crash repeatedly, battering the pale, stained sand again and again. it was the same with her- she was torn, crumpled, defeated from love. it had grasped her soul and shaken it till she could barely move, let alone speak. an empty shell, the other Doctor had once called her. he's gone now, faded away with all those other magnificent people she had met from other worlds. they're all gone, she hears herself saying. gone and aren't coming back. the walls are sealed, never to reopen. but she prays, and hopes. to hear the humming engine of a blue box to come one day, to hear the laugh of a man who could never age. she continues to pray.
a tear rolls from her eye, and Rose Tyler turns her back on the setting sun, walking slowly back to a place she called home.
Ten years:days. years. hours. they all seem to tangle into an ambiguous little measurement, and she finds herself waking up at night and periodically sleeping during the day. today though, is a good day. her hands fold the crumpled invitation card smoothly as she glances at the marriage ceremony a second time. Mickey had moved on now as well, and had found a cute girl along the way. a laugh bubbles from her chest, and she smiles. she's glad he had found someone. ever since that day, she had always left the ones who cared about her the most behind, to walk in daylight shadows and look up at the morning sky, hoping to catch a glint of a star's eye. sighing, she turns to look at what type of dress she should wear. makeup was a forgotten talent, an inconsistent necessity. Rose Tyler forgets to wear mascara now, her eyes are void of any sparkle that was there before. cheeks have become sallow; eyes are constantly swollen. shoulders are hunched; back is curved. sometimes Jackie said she looked older than herself.
she swivels through the cluttered room of her apartment, looking at things to buy, things to wear. a black, elegant, folded dress catches her eye, but she looks away. too many painful memories were embedded into the lace of that dress. she finds her hands curl around it anyway, and sighing, she pulls it out and lays it on the bed.
Rose Tyler tries it on, and is surprised to find that it still fits her.
fifteen years: she walks back and forth in the marketplace, spotting for oranges, or perhaps tangerines. it was Sunday morning, and she already has already bought some apples, but oranges were her favorite; she could never get enough of their tart taste. a man waves hello as she passes by his stand; she gives a weak smile in return. one tiny boy runs across the pathway, in his hand a locket; an old mother softly admonishes her daughter for walking away. such a minute world, so incomplete and insignificant. she looks back up at the sky- it must already be one o' clock. her hands curled into little fists, she shuffles toward another stand; she had spotted some decent oranges there earlier.
as she passes, her shoulder slightly bangs against another, and she falls gracefully the pebbled ground. her eyes shielded from the silhouette, she tries to gain the view of the stranger while grabbing her purse. for a moment, she sees him- his eyes, his sideburns, the distinct cropped up hair; but it's only a teenager, outstretching his hand to help her up. sighing, she tosses him a hasty apology and gets up, ready to pursue her oranges. but as she stands-
Rose Tyler feels her bones start to creak.
twenty five years: fear. anger. sorrow. anxiousness. ecstasy. funny, how emotions can ball up into one packed explosion. but she knows it's him, she knows because it's his back, his hands, his hair, his long legs, his traveling brown coat-
she finds her hands grasping for his shape, his slender fingers, as she begins to run as fast as she can. her bones are stiff, but Rose Tyler doesn't care- nothing matters, only to get to him-she can't wait for her arms to reach up and ruffle his hair, her chest to press against his, his breath tickling her ears as they go on for another ride- she knows- she can feel it within her burning soul-one single, touch-
then comes the crash.
her eyes open weakly, her breath in sharp, short huffs. all around is the haze of red, and a sharp tingling feeling emits from her stomach. screams can be heard slightly, and she believes that there must be child wailing. sirens pierce the air; it must be nighttime as she's never felt this cold before. a hand presses against hers, and sees a silver pole gleam dimly in the red aura. a pole face down, jutting out from her abdomen.
a cry begins to wrap around her hoarse throat, as tears flow down from her shriveled eyes. all this time, all she wanted-
she feels more tears, more hands pressing down on her. using the remainder of her strength, she glances up and-
his face is beautiful. there are tears surrounding his eyes, his cheeks still round with no wrinkles. no silver hair in the sea of brown, his eyes penetrating, yet emanating with sorrow. his smile is trembling; his hand shaking on her forehead.
she finds her arms reaching toward him, as she struggles to talk. there are just no words to say. no emotions to express. Rose Tyler doesn't have time, like he does. it finally had crept up to her after all these years, and had taken her down, screaming and crying. but she doesn't care. all she sees is his face, his light, feeling his warm lips grazing hers, and hearing a breaking whisper in her ear-
"I love y-"
then darkness.
fin.