A/N: This is based on what was said in the Runaway Bride's commentary about how they originally was going to have the Doctor throw Rose's jacket out the TARDIS doors. I'm so glad they didn't. Let me know what you think.
I'm not the first, am I? How many other women have you abducted?
It was just a jacket.
He hadn't even realise it was there. The Runaway Bride lifted it up, breaking his hearts again.
That's my friend's.
The pain rushed back, hitting him like a blow to the chest, the agony almost made him do something unspeakable, something he would've regretted. Something he couldn't take back.
Where is she then? Popped out for a spacewalk?
She's gone.
Gone where?
I lost her.
Well, you can hurry up and lose me. How do you mean "lost?"
He snatched the jacket from her hands with a pace that shocked him, for a spilt second he considered throwing it out the TARDIS doors, never to be seen again. Never to bring him that hurt, so powerful that it sent every nerve ending on fire with hatred and self-loathing. It should have been him, not her. Never her.
The Doctor marched towards the doors, but couldn't bring himself to do it. It seemed disrespectful. To her. To his pink and yellow girl.
Instead of reaching for the door, he threw the jacket over the coral where his coat resided. He dashed back to the console, wanting to return Donna home as soon as possible.
That friend of yours, what was her name?
Her name was Rose.
The Doctor rested his head against the doors, overwhelmed with sorrow. He had buried his feelings to help Donna, or so he thought. If it wasn't for her, he never would have stopped, never would have left that tunnel. The Doctor was grateful for that.
He braced himself, picked up the jacket, feeling the soft material under his fingertips, imagining the warmth that was once there. Tears welled in his eyes. You said forever, Rose.
He let out a long, shaky breath and trudged to Rose's room, the room she would never be in again. The Doctor tried to live in hope, telling himself that they will see each other once more, but his rational Time Lord brain destroyed the belief, that faith.
She was lost.
Gone.
Opening the door, he remembered how a couple of days she was angry at him for waking her early. She pleaded to him of how she just wanted another hour in bed, but he wasn't having it.
Come on Rose, humans don't need this much sleep.
Well, I do. Not like you with your superior biology. Human, remember?
In retaliation, she'd hurled a pillow at his head, but he quickly blocked the playful attack using the door as shield. Leaning against the frame, he chuckled at the memory.
Doctor, come on. I want to be rested up for when we see mum in a couple of hours. Please?
Oh, okay. Anything for you, Rose.
A few of hours later, they learnt of the ghosts' existence, breaking down the walls, and then war descended. Daleks in the sky, death and destruction everywhere.
He could see her hand, slipping, fingers clinging on the lever with everything she had. Her scream was imprinted in his memory, burning through his hearts. She fell, but he couldn't catch her. Oh, how he wanted to catch her.
The Doctor clutched the jacket to his chest, a tear trickled down his cheek. She's safe now. That's all that matters.
He stayed for a moment, looking around the room for the last time. The memories of them sitting on her bed giggling about their latest adventures or how he held her when she had a bad night. The Doctor gently hung up the jacket up in the wardrobe, and closed the bedroom door behind him, so it would be waiting for when she came back.
I'm the last of the Time Lords, I can live in hope. For her.