They had always loved the Notebook.
After a particularly taxing adventure, Rose would sit down in the media room intending to relax. She would ask the TARDIS to put on the Notebook and leave some tissues nearby. Usually, just as it was starting, the Doctor would march in grumbling about inferior species and ask what she was watching. She would tell him, and as expected, he would scoff. He would tell her that the UCC (Universal Club of Critics) said it was the saddest story ever told, that it was guaranteed to make you cry. But that he doubted that anything that cheesy and romantic would make him even think about crying.
It was then that Rose would roll her eyes and tell him to relax and watch the movie with her. He would sigh gustily, and pretend to be reluctant as he removed his leather jacket and sat down next to her, pulling her feet into his lap and gently massaging them.
He would usually start out the movie commenting on every mistake and plot hole, but by the end he would be leaning forward, his knees on his elbows, as a single tear ran down his face.
After a long day, her next Doctor was usually the one who initiated the watching. He would drag Rose to the media room and put in the disk, after getting the popcorn, tea, biscuits, and bananas for them to snack on. They would sit on either side of the couch as it started, grinning amiably at each other. But as the movie progressed they moved closer and closer to each other, until every grab for popcorn became an excuse to touch each other's hands, until Rose curled up into his chest to cry, until he quoted the lines from the movie against the shell of her ear, making her shiver. He would exclaim that she was cold and get a blanket, tucking it safely around her and grinning at her like she was the most important thing in the world.
After Canary Warf she could barely bring herself to mention the movie that had once been her favorite. But one night, when the Dimension Canon seemed like it would never work, she put in the disc and watched.
By the end she was sobbing, sobbing like she hadn't since that day on the beach. Each heartbreaking cry ripped out of her chest by her own pain finally set free by this stupid movie. She screamed and kicked her sofa and threw a lamp at the wall. Then she drank herself into a stupor.
When she woke up the next morning she felt better than she had in what felt like years.
After the second time she was at that bloody beach she and the new Doctor watched that film. They sat awkwardly in their hotel room in Norway until Rose broke the silence by offering to watching it. The Doctor grinned widely and agreed.
During the movie, he would glance at Rose out of the corner of his eye and Rose would sneak a peek at his face under her lashes. There was about a foot of distance between them but it felt like a mile. They just couldn't think of how to bridge the gap, so somewhere around the middle of the movie Rose turned to the Doctor, grabbed his lapels and collided her mouth with his. It wasn't tender, it wasn't graceful, it wasn't slow.
But it was absolutely perfect.
After his funeral Rose sat numbly on the edge of their bed and held the box between her hands. Tony had told her to keep it as a memento of all their happy times, as he had kept one when his wife had died. But she didn't want it.
She didn't want a reminder of watching it after their wedding, or after they found out she wasn't aging. She didn't want a reminder of when they found out she was pregnant, but then lost the baby. She didn't want a bloody reminder of every happy and sad moment she had with him. She just wanted to be with him. They were supposed to grow old together, but to quote the Doctor, she had to watch him wither and die.
The universe was ironic.
How could they ever think that she wasn't effected by the time vortex running through her when it killed the Doctor. She was so naive back then, and the Doctor just didn't want to believe it was real. That her forever might match his.
And wasn't that rich. She wasn't dumb enough to think that that was what he actually wanted. He said he didn't do domestic, and that's exactly what she would be. Bloody domestic.
She rubbed a hand over her face, that wasn't fair. She didn't know how the Doctor would react and it was unfair to judge him based on her anger.
God, wasn't her life a mess. Everyone except Tony was dead, and he was dying. She deserved a movie. it would have been much better than the stupid Notebook. "The Saddest Story Ever Told." God!
Well it wasn't, it was happy. Dying in bed next to your spouse was the greatest death anyone could ask for. It was especially happy compared to her husbands death. Dying of Cancer next to your forever youthful looking wife who you will never see again because... You know, he's dead.
Ha! Her story was more like the saddest story ever told.
No, that was what her life was.
The saddest story never told.