The Doctor's Door

Inspired by 6.11/The God Complex

This is basically where my imagination went when I paused at him opening the door. I wanted to let myself imagine what could be there before it was actually shown, and here it is.

A long hallway. A door at the end, the simple number 11 engraved at the top. A doorknob, itching to be turned.

The Doctor's greatest fear would be behind that door, one he himself couldn't fathom. The shallow ones would assume an army of Daleks, or Cybermen. The creatures he just couldn't seem to escape. Perhaps a Weeping Angel or a Silence.

Some might think deeper into the Doctor's persona, would just know his greatest fear would be the death of his beloved friends. The bodies of Donna, Martha, Rose, and Amy all on display for him to see. Or maybe them leaving, forgetting. For, hadn't he been through so much of that? And wasn't that what broke him every time? What turned him into the monster he so loathed?

But no, it wasn't the evil in the universe or the death and despair that came with it. No being in the universe could scare the Doctor, no, the Doctor scared the beings. Tangible meant it could be defeated, reasoned with, or saved. Emotions, feelings, however. The only things the Doctor ever ran from, and the only things he never really could. Deprivation, guilt. Loneliness and fear. Love, loss, and everything in between. They were all what made the Doctor himself, and yet they were what he just couldn't seem to get away from.

A creak, and groan. A step forward on old wooden floorboards.

A cheap hotel bed made up in a red tasseled comforter set.

A blue leather jacket that had been too far.

Blonde hair, burned a little at the ends.

Her head turned around, expressionless.

Her voice said, "You found your door, Doctor," in that voice he hadn't heard in so many years. She paused, observing. "You've regenerated. Figures."

But while he struggled for words, she waited for him to ask the question.

'What is Rose Tyler doing in my room?'

And before he could say it aloud, it was like a filter was lifted, and in the blink of an eye the burns and scars and torn clothing were all brought to light. And so were the monotonous words of the girl who stole his hearts.

"I trusted you, Doctor. Both of you. But of course it was too good to be true. Give a time traveler who misses his box a new one and he'll fly off without you, won't he.

"Let a man lock you up in another universe and trust him to keep your greatest fears away and he'll blow it again. Fool me once, Doctor. The first time I assumed the hole was our fault, that we were pushing the boundaries of the Void too far. Or maybe it was the Daleks who slipped through, breaking the wall with their plan to destroy reality. Never once did I believe it was just faulty engineering. My precious Doctor could do no wrong. But fool me twice, Doctor, and my friends and family are dead and I am left alone, truly alone, in a strange new place covered in the remains of the worst humanity has seen and will ever see from alien kind. Left alone to press buttons and build machines and hope something would bring me back to where I belonged.

"And then, of course, I realized. You knew he was going to leave me. You knew a timelord would never abandon space for anyone, let alone me. You said it yourself, you are him and he is you. But you left me there to rot.

"That's when I gave up, Doctor. I gave up when I had nothing left and no one to believe in. I loved you, Doctor. And you're gonna be the death of me.

"Again."

If it had been anger, he would've soothed it, like he always did. If it had been sadness, sorrow, pain, he would've fixed it. Like he always did.

But the words were empty; they had no meaning yet held so much. Words of a girl so young who'd seen more pain than she deserved.

For the first time, the Doctor couldn't fix his Rose.

And his Rose didn't want him to fix her.

Tears did nothing. Words did nothing.

An 'I'm sorry' would've been a waste of breath.

The weight of it just sank in slowly.

This isn't real. This isn't real.

Saying it out loud didn't erase the broken girl before him, or the hotel, or the faint sound of footsteps in the hallway beyond.

It would be so easy to walk away. To tell himself that she wasn't there, and to forget he saw her.

But he couldn't leave her there.

"This. Isn't. Real."

A step back.

"Yes, it is, Doctor. You gonna run away from me again? Leave me alone, again?"

A pause. A broken second to decide.

"Yes I am, Rose. I'm sorry"

Another step back.

The creak of the door. The click of a lock.

And quiet words from the other side.

"No, you're not. I know that now."

And the sound of that damn yellow button came and went before the Doctor could realize what he'd done.