A/N: Hi, thanks for coming! Hope you enjoy your stay. On today's menu we have for you a hopefully delightful and slightly sad one shot featuring 10/Rose. This little piece I dedicate to ComeAlongAsh. She is the one to blame for every ounce of interest I have in this particular universe and she's been waiting oh so patiently for me to finally post this.
Finally, I do not own any rights to anything ' ', nor do I own any rights regarding the song 'Runaway Train' and the band 'Soul Asylum'.
Thank You and Enjoy.
It was unintentional. He had merely been walking through the throngs of people, not listening to the conversations of harried mothers, snobbish teens or outright awful beings when his little ears perked.
Brown eyes glanced at the fellow passing by with the music playing just a touch too loud from his headphones.
"…Like a mad man laughing in the rain, little out of touch, a little insane…"
The very corner of his lips dared tilt and for a moment he entertained the idea of those lyrics describing himself, so lost was he without-… Never mind.
The music wasn't so bad either, quite catchy, really. However, the guy with the too-loud music was gone and so the Doctor continued on his less-then-merry way, the hem of his trench drifting around his legs.
This time he was sitting in a café leisurely nursing a black tea when the song from before drifted through the air. The paper in his hands lowered slowly as he scanned the other patrons, searching for the one with the musical device.
It was a moment before he realized it was playing on the radio.
"...Call you up in the middle of the night, like a firefly without any light. You were there like a blowtorch burning; I was a key that could use a little turning! So tired that I couldn't even sleep, so many secrets I couldn't keep. Promised myself I wouldn't weep, one more promise I couldn't keep!..."
Clearing his throat, the Doctor folded the paper and setting it on the table beside his still steaming cup, he uncrossed his legs and was out the door faster than polite behavior dictated.
He thought perhaps the song was a little too close to how he was- ...pretending not to feel. Yes, the song was too deep and much, much too soon.
"…Can you help me remember how to smile? Make it somehow all seem worthwhile. How on earth did I get so jaded? Life's mysteries seem so faded! I can go where no one else can go, I know what no one else knows…"
The Doctor found his mood a little more amiable than of days recently passed and in a rare, in fact, nigh impossible moment the universes were mutually doing well. Sure that this wouldn't last long, he'd decided to allow an evening for his own contentment.
Perhaps finally listening to the blasted song that he couldn't forget, the one whose few lines he'd heard continuously played over and over in his brain, would be first on his empty agenda.
With a little research, and a fair amount of mauling from a pierced and overly-made up woman at the mall, he'd managed to acquire a copy of the track.
'Soul Asylum – Runaway Train. '1993' [4:26] '
Up this street, around that corner, up a little more and then left under the building's eve, there sat the lonely-looking TARDIS. For a moment the Doctor paused, staring at her beautiful blue coloring, re-reading the memorized writing across her face. The adventures, the memories. Why, not too long ago he remem- remembered… remembered nothing.
Swallowing the nothing in his throat, he made his way inside, turned and made sure he was perfectly alone before shutting the door.
Making his way to his room, shrugging off his coat as he went, he laid it along a bottom corner of his bed, his blazer and tie laid over top soon after. The lights shutting once again as he walked out.
On a chair just inside the open bedroom door, mostly buried underneath other-worldly newspapers, a few souvenirs and a pile of nonsense sat a woman's shirt. Folded neatly and blatantly ignored, only a sliver of the light purple color could be seen in the light shining inside.
Sliding the CD inside the console, he sat himself on the jump seat, put his elbows on the backs of the chairs beside him and made himself comfortable. "Alright, let's hear it then. TARDIS, if you would?" Possessing the best of surround sound systems, the introduction played in perfect clarity around him.
The Doctor was already tapping his thumbs and toes. The verse started, the rhythm within his hands and feet continued, but his eyes closed of their own will as he lost himself in the song.
"…It seems no one can help me now, I'm in too deep, there's no way out. This time I have really led myself astray. Runaway train, never goin' back, wrong way on a one-way track, seems like I should be getting somewhere, somehow I'm neither here nor there…"
The Doctor's nose scrunched. No wonder the song haunted him, it was practically about him!
"…Here I am just drownin' in the rain, with a ticket for a runaway train! And everything seems cut and dry, day and night, earth and sky, somehow I just don't believe it…"
By the end of the song the Doctor was laughing with incredulity. "Again, TARDIS" This time he was softly singing along. By the third time he was belting out the chorus. It was during the fourth intro that his eyes happened to shift toward his open doorway, focusing on the sliver of purple.
In that instant he was slammed with memories and visions and pain and imaginary blonde hair floating over his face and her beautiful smile tore his away faster than he'd believed it could.
"Stop! STOP! TARDIS, enough!" Leaping to his feet, he waved his hands around him frantically, wanting the music to go away; to stop eating away at the wall he'd built between…
…Between Rose and himself. Rose.
His Rose…
The music played on, and in that instant the Doctor went a little mad.
Pushing himself around the console and into his room, he flung the objects burying the shirt away until he could gently lift it up. There, in his hands; pristine and precious; was the only article of hers that he had left.
Covering his face with the baby fine material he could still smell traces of her perfume. Faint, but wonderfully still there.
He missed her. He wanted her, wanted to feel her hand in his, wanted to feel that little missed-beat in his hearts when she lifted those dark lashes and looked him square in the eye.
He wanted her to be there to encourage him and yell at him and be playful and perfect.
But no, he was given a white wall pressed to his cheek and only her screams left ringing in his ears.
What he'd give to be standing on that beach with her again, or to… to dance with her again. Dancing with her had been wonderful. It was easy to ignore Jack standing in the background, what, with that lithe, sexy blonde whirling around in his arms.
Yes, he'd been absolutely, fantastically happy then. That memory, that brilliant memory was a favorite of his. Why not relive it to the best of his abilities, perhaps a little sadder than before with the current song and without his Rose.
Good thing he had a phenomenal imagination.
Laying her shirt over the back of the jump seat, he gently smoothed the wrinkles and stood back to admire his work. Then, with a sadly wondrous smile, he held out his hand, palm up to invite Rose to dance and in his mind he saw her blink, those long lashes skimming her cheeks and then she smiled, so intensely happy over his request.
She laid her hand in his, his warm fingers cradling her cooler ones and he pulled her ever so swiftly to her feet.
The song started over for the fifth time, the Doctor glided toward the left, then again and again. Circling, dancing, his arms ever raised, his eyes closed and Rose's perfume wafting around him. His memory flirted with his reality, playing on his mind as he whirled alone over and over, swaying and stepping, humming along with the music, never falling or tripping.
Odd though it may seem to see a full grown man dancing on his own, the Doctor cared naught for such judgements. In his mind, he had her in his arms again.
She was laughing and her bewitching copper eyes were only on him, one hand lightly resting on his shoulder, the other in his trustingly as he held her tightly. He pulled her closer, feeling her hair tickle his cheek, her breath on his lips as she leaned in closer still and whispered that she loved him just once more.
The song ended; the fantasy ended, and the Doctor's arms fell heavily against his sides.
This time the TARDIS listened when the Doctor told her 'enough'. Lifting the shirt from the chair he gently folded it once more, tucked the CD into one of its folds and then hid both in a dark corner of his room. One that he would eventually forget existed.
Even though he knew he was alone, he was still shy of the lone tear that threatened to fall and so he wiped it away. Shutting out all the lights, he laid down on his bed, rested his hands behind his head and simply drifted off to exhausted sleep.
