Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Doctor Who. Otherwise Rose would regenerate and live happily ever after with the Doctor.
Warning for serious angst ahead. And no happy endings.
Her heart had shattered when he'd disappeared. He'd almost said it. Sure, he'd implied he loved her before, but it was different this time. Whenever she'd told him, whether it was after a life or death situation, or after a night of passionate sex, his only response was to hold her closer or smile and kiss her. She'd been able to tell what he meant, and she'd never realized how much those words had meant to her until she'd almost gotten to hear them. She knew the Doctor preferred to express his love in other ways besides words, despite his affection for using words more than was necessary. He was more of a touchy-feely kind of guy, rather then using words to tell her. And now, Rose realized, he wouldn't be there to fix her anymore. She'd never understood how much those hugs had done for her, how sleeping in his room had helped with her nightmares, or what those hidden moments at night in the TARDIS had done for her. Not until she was alone.
The first months were the worst. She'd been having nightmares without her Doctor there to comfort her, and not even Mickey could do anything about that. Her only company during those nights was her and her memories of his voice whispering, "I'm right here Rose. Right here next to you." It seemed almost like a cruel joke, how his voice would haunt her at night, though it did help her sleep. Sometimes, when she concentrated enough, she could almost feel his hand tracing things on her back as she slept, head on his chest. She'd always come back to earth eventually, hurting because he was gone, and she would be alone in her bed, with nothing. Nothing used to not matter. Because the Doctor would always be there to pick up the pieces.
Except for this time, he wasn't there to catch her anymore. And he never would be.
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