Hi! I wrote this in, oh, ten minutes after watching a clip from "Human Nature" on YouTube. Seriously- it just struck me. Preferably please do not flame me, as I know it isn't very good and has probably been done a million times before.
Disclaimer: If I owned "Doctor Who," trust me, this story wouldn't need writing. And if we had to, we would have heard the words in 'Journey's End.'
John Smith felt her hand slip from his grasp, watched her form move ahead of him. She never turned around to look back, did not respond to his call. She started running away, slowly fading into the horizon.
He would see her differently after that, watching her from a distance. He saw her walking through the busy streets, her clothing immodestly forming to her body, though most others dressed the same way. He watched from a distance, seeing her smile, laugh, and spend time with people he could only assume were her friends- though it was hardly appropriate to be with men, a chaperone nowhere in sight. Her smile always seemed to be missing something, as though she wasn't truly happy. Other times he would catch her crying, or staring blankly into the distance. Times like these, John Smith wanted to pull her close and make her smile- really smile. Before he could even think of moving towards her for comfort, she had turned and walked away.
The most memorable time he saw her frown was the most painful for him- and he couldn't understand why. She stood on an empty beach, the vast expanse of barren land suffocating to John. He saw her hunched over and her shoulders shaking heavily, the tide going out to the dark horizon. She looked so lonely, as though she would never get better. John Smith hated seeing her so. She deserved to be happy. Whoever had hurt her had not deserved the chance, and did not know what they were losing. Within moments, she was turned and running away from him.
He didn't know why he felt this way, or how he knew to have these thoughts and feelings. Rose was just a character in his dreams, always walking away…