Outrageous Fortune
By Sonic Jules
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A/N's:
Here I am, writing another story, joining in with all those authors who've written some 'Journey's End' related fics out there. I have read some beautiful and thought provoking works of art. And I'll tell you now; this is not one of them.
As always, I owe much gratitude to Catharticone, who helps and guides and makes my work look much better than it ever did. She also gave this story it's title.
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Disclaimer: Doctor Who and the characters of said show do not belong to me, no matter how hard I've wished for it. No infringement meant on the owners and associates, nor BBC.
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She'd missed him, dreading the dawn of new days without him as each came and went. Her pain was instant from the moment her eyes opened until they finally closed, when her body gave in to the emotional exhaustion. With it came dreams of him and the life she'd lost, and with that the reality that he had been all her life was.
Everything around her roused thoughts of the Doctor, from the sun that shone down to the smell of chips wafting in the air. There was nothing that didn't spark a memory, perhaps a feeling, and smother her with the emptiness she now knew in her heart.
She welcomed the rain. Her heart actually felt lighter when storm clouds would appear, dampening the moods of others around her. Let them feel a tiny piece of what her heart felt every day, hiding the tears which she could let fall unbidden behind the mask of raindrops. Her pain was all she had left to feel.
She worked. Had her own flat. By all appearances, Rose Tyler had moved on. She was good that way, pretending for everyone else's eyes. Her acting abilities had grown since being damned to a life without him.
She only went out when she had to. Working for Torchwood. Shopping for necessities. A visit to the family when excuses had run out. Pretending for the people who watched her too closely that everything was all right.
Some days her thoughts would take her to him unbidden, then they would flee; the nasty truth of reality scattering those visions with the painful clarity of her destiny.
Every day she realized her life without him was just an empty shell of existence.
If she was at work, she controlled it, keeping it hidden from the worried eyes that always watched her. But at home with only her walls to see, she would howl from the agony of her grief, wishing for anything to remove the ache she could not suppress.
Soon she allowed herself some direction and began pouring herself into her work, allowing Torchwood to be her tiny attempt at hope. She had proven herself to them, working and discovering and negotiating her way up, her goal completely selfish: Use them to get back her life. If the Doctor would not find a way back to her, she would find one to him.
One day she found herself vowing to never tell him of the pain she'd endured, and wondered when she started believing that she would have the opportunity. Perhaps when her work had revealed a way to travel between parallel universes. Regardless, if she did become successful, he could never know all the sorrow since her first day on that beach - the day he took her heart. For if he ever knew, he'd easily accept the blame she cast, and Rose Tyler would will her pain on no other. Especially him. The Doctor knew more pain than anyone.
It wasn't his fault. Deep down, she'd known he didn't want to leave her behind. But if he hadn't wanted to leave her, he could have always stayed. Not that he really could, but her mind did so enjoy taunting her with the idea now and then. She stilled blamed him though, for this, because she had no one else to blame.
And now she's standing on that damned beach, the same cold wind attempting to take her soul again. He's standing beside her, watching her as tears roll steadily down her cheeks, listening to the echo of a time machine she knows - this time - she will never see or hear again. It's him. She knows he is the man with her Doctor's thoughts, perhaps even his love, and feels him staring at her, still squeezing her hand.
The TARDIS is long gone now. Far away, completely out of reach, with a Time Lord who is feeling what she felt. So alone. So lonely. So lost.
But there is hope. And hope is holding her hand; perhaps holding her heart. Only time will tell.
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He stands at the console, staring at the steady rise and fall of the heart of his ship, moisture falling freely down his cheeks. He has seen his friends - no - his family. They fought for him and damned near died for him, and then they left, gone to live their lives without him. Everyone has moved on. All but him, the lonely Time Lord.
A gasp escapes him when he allows himself to see Rose again in his mind, his memories as vivid and fresh as his tears. He vows that if he ever can see her again, she will never know the sorrow he'd felt from those days on that beach - the days he left his heart behind. For if she ever knew, she'd easily accept the blame he cast, and the Doctor would will his pain on no one - especially Rose - whom he'd loved like no other.
Perhaps now she could finally know his love, though not from his own lips, and not by his touch. He'd left Rose with his soul, standing tall beside her.
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The End.
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