Stormy Weather.

AN:I've only seen Rose once, so specific details on Rose and her life pre-Doctor may be a little off. Hopefully that doesn't matter. I'm not sure how in character this is... it's turned out a little more depressed than I intended. But never mind, here it is, reviews would be great though I don't think much of this fic myself so please don't be too nice to criticise :)

Not really based on the song, but these lyrics just seemed to fit. I don't know who actually wrote it, I'm sorry.

Don't know why there's no sun up in the sky.

Life is bare, gloom and mis'ry everywhere,

Stormy weather,

Just can't get my poor self together.

I'm weary all the time.

There has to be more to life than this. That's what I tell myself every morning, waking up with that sudden sinking feeling that comes from being torn from the warm safety of sleep. Looking to the crack between my curtains and seeing that, yet again, the sky is grey and stormy; the air outside is, no doubt, sullen and detached. And it's cold.

But there has to be more than this, right? Because if I'm feeling like this, how can that be it? I can't be stuck like this, waiting, for the rest of my life. I can't. I'm not meant to; I wasn't ever supposed to be here. I thought life was going to be so fantastic, because I Got Out, and I used to feel so smug when I thought of my mates in college, some of them even going on to university, because they were all on a set path and I could do anything I wanted. They were stuck in one mindless, enforced direction, but I was going to be different. I was seventeen, I thought I was in love and I thought that was all I needed.

I was wrong. The job I took, working in the local supermarket so I could save up money while I figured out what I wanted to do, that job lasted longer and longer and suddenly it'd been a year. A year of dim flickering yellow lights, dusty yellow floors and a uniform that never fit me. And I wasn't even saving, because Jimmy, the bloke behind the ideal I'd fallen for, he took all my money for beer and petrol and video games.

So when he left me I quit my job and started making plans, all the great things I was going to do; travel, see the world. Matter. But of course, I needed another job in the mean time, and pretty soon the whole thing started again. I started seeing Mickey, safe, dependable, inevitable and achingly normal; everything fit, but nothing felt right. Nothing does.

So again I tell myself, just like every morning, there has to more to life than this. I've been waiting around for something to happen, and it's going to, for no other reason than that it has to. This boredom, this doomed lack of direction, it wasn't meant for me. If it was then it wouldn't hurt so much, wouldn't leave me with this constant hollow ache in the pit of my stomach, or that choked feeling that goes with the tears I never let fall.

And off I go, with that sinking feeling as I face another day of folding clothes and sending false smiles to anyone who looks. If work was just a bit more fun, if Mickey would argue with me just once, or Shireen turned up with a suitcase and said lets go to Mexico, anything, it wouldn't be so bad. But it's just this feeling that I'm wasting my time, my life… not making any difference to anything.

Sure enough, the air outside is heavy with rain that has yet to fall. There's electricity everywhere and it makes me shiver, and everything feels just the tiniest bit different through its monotonous familiarity. And I don't know what it is I'm expecting, but something's got to happen. I've thought it a thousand times, but today feels different, and as I head towards the bus stop I can't help but think it. Maybe today.

Thank you for reading.