He owed her this much. That's what he kept telling himself.

The Doctor stood in front of the mirror gazing at his appearance. Somber, that was right for this, wasn't it? He didn't do this often, for good reason. His brown suit, white shirt, somber black tie with the brown checks. Yes this would work, not that she would notice or really care. He didn't want to do this, but she deserved at least this from him. He sighed and headed for the console room.

He walked slowly, trying in vain to put off the inevitable. When he entered the console room he saw a bouquet of simple daisies lying on the bench. Of course he had not even thought of flowers, it was something that would be expected, traditional in this situation. The Tardis had known better then he had, she always did. He gingerly picked up the bouquet as another sigh escaped his lips. He was not looking forward to stepping out of those doors, but for Rose he would do it. He had to.

He walked down the grating towards the doors, dreading every step. The Tardis hummed encouragingly. He looked back and nodded his thanks for all she had done, opened the doors and stepped out onto the grass. The top of the hill, that's where he had been told he could find her, his Rose. It was a small hill, but looked more like a mountain to him in this moment. One foot in front of the other, he moved at a slow but steady pace. Slow and steady wins the race said the tortoise, but there was no winning in this slow race. He kept his eyes on his feet, ignoring the small statues and simple plaques the stretched out in all directions around him. It was quiet, no sound, no bustle of people, and no mindless chatter. Silent as a ….grave, what should he have expected in a cemetery. The thought nearly stopped him in his tracks, he wanted to turn and run back to the safety of the Tardis, to fly away for this sad place, go somewhere upbeat and brightly colored. He sighed, took another step forward up the hill, he owed her this much, he couldn't let Rose down now.

He reached the top of the hill, and there he saw her, a statue, siluetted against the sunset. He took a deep breath and crossed the final few feet, head held high. He reached her and placed the flowers on the ground next to the countless other bouquets. It was then that she noticed him there; she turned and looked into his eyes. Her face was stone for a brief second, composed and somber, but then it broke. She grabbed hold of him a buried her head in his shoulder and wept. He gently held her and sighed. He didn't want to be here, didn't want to see his Rose like this, but he owed her this much as he glanced down at the grave at their feet.

Mickey Smith

Beloved Grandson and Friend

Defender of the Earth