The night was dark and deep and the rain smattered the dirt. Grey blotches formed, dried, and formed again as the intense heat burned away the little moisture on the rocks that fell from the sky, the rain itself a miracle. The scent of dirt and burnt grass mingled with the water and the Doctor, from the doorway of the Tardis, inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and blocking out every other sense to fully experience the one. Rain was different everywhere he went.
He could tell the land had not gotten rain for a very long time, the sun-scorched landscape drinking the water like a man dying of thirst, gulping it, welcoming it with every fiber of being. He quite enjoyed standing there, out of the rain and in the comfort of his traveling home, able to take in the experience of a thunderstorm without being in it. Although, what was the fun of being out of danger? Glancing over his shoulder, making sure everything was how he meant to leave it, the Doctor stepped foot onto the grass that crackled as he walked upon it. Within moments, as the rain fell harder and the earth had nearly taken it's fill, he was soaked.
If Rose knew he was outside, she would call to him from the doorway to come back inside before he caught a cold. Ah, Rose... He found himself thinking more and more about her ways, the little things she said and did that made him almost wish to be human, also. He knew he couldn't catch a cold from being out in the rain, and she probably did, too, but she said it anyway, the concern in her voice so real he would have to obey her. He felt terrible when he didn't listen to her, especially lately. But the Doctor didn't want to think right now, not about a thing. It was so rare he let his mind rest, to take away all the equations and scientific problems and theories of everything he came across. A walk in the rain was what he needed.
Walking in the dark proved a little more difficult than the Doctor had previously thought and, although several tools able to cast light were in numerous pockets of his jacket, the Doctor didn't want to get them wet. Such things behaved oddly when used after getting wet, as he had found from experience, rubbing his fingertips against his palms in unconscious memory of the nasty shocks. Besides, it wasn't as if he couldn't make his way around; he just had to be very careful. The town was just over the hill, a little village where he and Rose could go and stock up on supplies for the Tardis. He had decided to take a walk around the area where the Tardis was resting, for no real reason, as Rose had drifted off after writing the list of things to buy in town. As she rested her head on her hands, the Doctor recalled, and drifted off into an ungraceful slumber, he had considered bringing her to her bedroom, just picking her up right there and then and placing her on her bed so she wouldn't wake up in the main room of the Tardis and finding him gone. At least, in her room, she would be more inclined to sleep longer and there would be less of a chance for him to be disturbed in his self-guided tour of the area. Rose would never understand why he chose to walk around in the dark and rain.
Thunder crackled overhead and, as much as the Doctor wanted to stay and experience the storm, something was telling him to get back to the Tardis. He needed to get back and, within moments this passing thought became a pressing need. Get back to the Tardis. A bright flash of light momentarily startled the Doctor and he felt a sudden severe pain. The pain didn't stop him, however, and he soon forgot it as the urge to get back to the Tardis became the only thing in his mind. Running back up the hill as fast as possible, the Tardis sillouhetted against the ever brighter lightening, the Doctor would have made it to his precious ship within a minute--
If it had not burst into flame, hit by a bolt of lightning.
As the Tardis smoked and burned, the Doctor stopped midstride and fell to his knees, momentarily stricken dumb. He couldn't move, he couldn't think, he couldn't believe. The Tardis traveled through time, past suns, visiting hundreds of planets, and surely, through all this, the Tardis hadn't caught fire. Not once. And now... He couldn't believe it. There was no possible way this was happening. Everything in his world was the Tardis, was in the Tardis. In the Tardis.
"ROSE!" the Doctor cried, eyes growing wider in shock and horror and fear. Fear, something the Doctor never wanted to experience as much as he experienced now. Not only was he losing the Tardis, he was losing Rose. The two things he loved and the two things that loved him back. There was still a chance she was alright, that the fire was only on the outside of the ship and the inside was unharmed. These hope filled thoughts raced through his mind as he got up off the dead, soggy grass and ran toward the Tardis, the flames engulfing his ship and his flower reflecting the fire in his eyes. Rain dripped off the hem of his jacket, off the ends of his hair, off the tip of his nose as his two hearts raced.
As he reached forward into the flame to grasp the handle to the door of the Tardis, the heat grew and the bright light was nearly unbearable. The handle burnt the Doctor's hand and he hardly felt the pain as, in what seemed to be one horrible motion, the Tardis fell apart. Before the Doctor collapsed under the burning heap of what was his entire world, he thought of Rose's sleeping figure, surrounded by flame. And pitied himself for not dying alongside her...
No, he wasn't going to answer; it was so much easier to lie in the soft, cool blankets.
"Doctor, please!"
Reluctantly, he considered getting up and opening his eyes, just to see who was calling his name so he could address them properly as he told them to leave him alone. It was too much work, though, and the Doctor tried to sink back into the feathers.
"Come back, Doctor, it's Rose! It's- It's Rose!"
The sobbing reached his ears slower than the former cries had and, as the Doctor tried to figure out who was crying and disturbing his sleep, the name of a flower triggered his memory. Rose. Rose, he knew that was familiar somehow, meant something to him. Rose. He struggled through the fog in his mind to find the answer. He had never liked or even noticed that sort of flower until she had come along his path. She.
"Rose!" the Doctor croaked out, his throat dry and painful. "I remem- I remember-"
"Don't go back to sleep, not without-"
Rose's voice cracked and she couldn't continue. As the Doctor tried to form words and pull himself out of the slumber he had previously been so relucant to leave, he felt hot drops of water hit his forehead, his cheek, to drip down and tickle his ear. The rain, as the Doctor found out as one drop slid down to his lips, were tears. There was a pressure on his hand and the Doctor licked his lips, trying to speak.
"Dear, you're crushing my fingers."
Rose laughed and loosened her grip on his hands only to throw herself across him, the Doctor thankful she was light enough to not crush his chest. He wasn't sure if she was still laughing or crying, but the Doctor was thankful she was there.
"What happened?"
"You went out into the storm and got hit by lightening. I thought I had lost you."
"Hit by- by lightening?"
"You went out walking and I woke up to the thunder. I went outside to find you and you had been hit. If I had been any longer in coming, I don't know what would have happened."
"How did I get back here?"
"I dragged you. I had to, I'm sorry. I wasn't strong enough to do anything else."
The Doctor felt for her hand once more and, running his fingers along her palm, felt cuts and the smooth plastic of bandages. Grabbing her hand in his and resting his arm across her back, he pulled her closer as he sank deeper into the plush bed, ready for a long rest. Rose settled carefully beside him, an exhausted sigh telling him she was in need of sleep as much as he was.
"Thank you, Rose," he muttered before he drifted off, "Thank you."
Thanks for reading! Comments are amazing, seeing as this is my first Doctor Who fic; guidence would be helpful in this genre. Again, thanks for reading.