Dreams of Rose
"Doctor! Doctor! You're going the wrong way!" Rose shouted at me from behind. "The Tardis is over there," she points her thin finger toward the second sun rising in the south.
"I think I very well know my own planet now Rose." I gazed toward the north looking through a tangle of silver leaves. "Ah, right, well, I am going the wrong way. Very well," I say turning toward the golden shining hair of my Rose, "you always know what to do." I tap my finger on her nose as I grab her hand and run toward the distant mountains.
"Where are we going now?" Rose asked me gesturing toward the Tardis parked just to our right.
"I want to show you something." I started running up the mountain toward the glimmering sun and the gleaming mountain top. I could distantly remember my childhood spent hiding among the burning trees in autumn avoiding my classmates. One day after I couldn't take it anymore I started to walk and then looking at the mountains with the second glazing sun behind them, I ran, really ran, for the first time. The wind blew through my then blonde hair. I could feel the breeze and smell the dew and the adrenaline, oh the adrenaline pumping through my veins I felt like I could never die. Once I got to the top of the mountain I looked out and saw the suns and the moons and with the newly approaching night I could just start to see the stars and planets just beyond Gallifrey and I knew I was meant to leave. I knew that Gallifrey would always be where I was from but it wouldn't be home. My home was the adrenaline in my body, the sense of purpose that thrived in my soul. I didn't have a home I had hearts.
As I rounded the top of the mountain I turned back and saw her just making the final bit to the top. Her cheeks were flushed and she was out of breath. She was there, bold and lovely, my Rose. My fantastic Rose. She walked closer and she was saying something to me but I couldn't hear her, not over the sound of my hearts beating and the energy pumping through my brain. I stepped closer to her, grabbed her hand, and for the first time I stood still. The same feeling of home hit me. I got down on a knee, was I just making this up as I went. Of course not, I told myself I've wanted to do this for a long time.
"Rose Tyler, I"
Screaming woke me. I looked around, the room was dark, but I wasn't alone. Martha, of course, Martha. I tried to remember where I was, right Shakespeare's house. What year was it? Sometime in the late 1500's Shakespeare's in his prime but hasn't written Hamlet, King Leer, Othello, or Macbeth yet. Gotta remember that don't quote Hamlet, can't interfere with genius, right then, screaming. Shake it off it was just a dream. You lost Gallifrey and you lost your home, Rose. So just keep moving on, forever gone, never forgotten.