A/N: This is just some pointless, plot-less drabble that popped into my head late last night. I apologize for the quality, but I just had to write it down.
The Doctor missed Rose.
Martha didn't ease the pain of losing her. Neither did Donna, because in a way, she reminded him of Rose. And then the pain of Donna leaving was too much - too much for anyone to bear. The sense of crushing realization that always set in when he realized they were never coming back constantly threatened to push him over the edge.
But of course he would regain control of his emotions - he always did. And he would go off in his TARDIS, forever spinning in his own magnificent orbit of time and space.
And then there was his new face to get used to, and little Amelia. The Doctor knew it was irrational to bring a little girl along, but he was the Doctor, and the Doctor is never rational. And then there was Amy, who was a not entirely unpleasant shock. Oh, Amy. She was bright and feisty and beautiful, just as Rose had been. And the Doctor forgot Rose for a while, and just focused on Amy, Amy, Amy.
Until she kissed him.
The Doctor missed Rose.
The Doctor's experience with kissing was minimal at best, but he knew what a good kiss was like. Amy was most definitely a good kisser, but as soon as her lips touched his, his mind went into DANGER mode. This was not what he wanted. He wanted Rose to be the one in his arms, not demanding or fierce, but patient and gentle. He wanted to be back in the pinstriped suit, with the wild hair and the blue sonic and the blonde girl.
So he pushed Amy away. He was always pushing people away, he realized with a jolt. But even if he did want Amy, he couldn't let her do this. She was getting married. She had a fiancee. And the Doctor liked Rory. He didn't want him to have to go through the same pain he went through so long ago, the pain of losing the one you love.
So the Doctor was thrilled when Amy chose Rory over him, and not offended in the least. They were perfect for each other, and besides, the Doctor knew he could never love again.
And then they were gone.
The Doctor missed Rose.
The grief was enough to kill him. It was almost as bad as the loss of Rose. Amy and Rory were his best friends, and they were gone. He would never see them again.
And then there was Clara Oswin Oswald, the Impossible Girl. She was so fascinating, like a brand new specimen in a laboratory and yet so much more exciting and beautiful, that the Doctor almost forgot about the Girl Who Waited and the Last Centurion.
But the memory of Rose was always there - haunting his thoughts as he kissed Clara in Victorian London, taunting and teasing him as he flirted with River.
River.
She was in a whole class by herself - it was strange to love someone in such a new way. He loved all of his companions, especially Rose, but the way he loved River was odd and exhilarating. She was so mysterious, and he liked that about her. Liked the way they would argue and tease and flirt and it would never get old.
But still, he missed Rose.
And now the Doctor was alone in the TARDIS, sitting dejectedly on the console. Clara was going out to dinner with friends, which suprised the Doctor because he had always fancied himself Clara's only friend. But there he was wrong.
And so he was all alone, with nothing to do.
"I am going to die presently." the Doctor said aloud, but it wasn't any fun being dramatic when no one was around to fuss over you. So he hopped down from his perch and slid under the console to tinker, trying desperately not to do what he hated most.
Remember.