The original version of this was too happy, I decided. And I'm in a sad mood, so I deleted the original and uploaded this instead… I have these days when I log onto the OG and see 'Rose' threads, and suddenly think… she's never coming back! Go and cry in a corner, Faye! But seeing as I'm not really that kind of person, I write a fan fiction. So I hope that all anti-angst people do not tell me I used too much. This is you warning. I WARNED YOU.

I found the perfect song for this situation, as well. However, I've been told that using the lyrics in this isn't allowed, so I decided to take them out. This is the new version, updated: 08/08/06. Instead I'm using some of my own lyrics. They probably will make it worse… we'll see!

Enjoy :)

Threads of My Heart

The TARDIS just wasn't the same without her. The green interior glowed, swathing the floor in its friendly light, but the Doctor found no consolation in its warm glow. He sat in the pilot seat, legs dangling over the edges, head on the armrest as he looked up at the ascending central column that looked like it breached the walls of heaven. The beauty of his TARDIS; the beauty around him, was undeniable. And yet on today; today of all days, the Doctor couldn't appreciate it. Which was okay. It happened all the time.

"Doctor…?"

"Mm."

"Is something wrong?"

"No."

"So, where are we going?"

"No such thing as staying still, anymore, is there? Nope. All rushing about. Pulling levers. No time to appreciate other people's company anymore." The words were casual and light but there was a bite to them at the end. The Doctor remembered times when companions wanted to just be with him. When they stayed because of the presence he gave to them. He remembered times when he took on companions because of the presence they gave him. Companions he dared to lend his hearts to.

"Well, I was just thinking. You take me off on a journey of a lifetime and then you just lie about." The girl was young and care free. The Doctor remembered vaguely picking her up on some god awful space station that was about to be blown out of the sky. He enjoyed her company. She was intelligent and pretty, and had a lifetime experience working in an office with large amounts of paper.

The Doctor didn't deny it. He did enjoy her company. Just as he had enjoyed other assistant's company; but they'd never progressed beyond that point. Never more than an assistant. And that wasn't because he was being selfish and clinging onto his memories. His heart was dedicated to another girl. Another confused, stupid blonde lost in another universe. She hadn't been an assistant. She'd been his friend. His companion.

"I do, don't I? Well, fine. Off we go." He sighed, jumped off the pilot seat and faced the control panel, looking at the familiar controls.

"Where are we going?"

"I have no idea!" he laughed maniacally. "Hah!" The TARDIS shook as it spun through space, passing stars that died in less than a nanosecond.

"Turn the radio on!"

"The what? But radios are so… old…"

"Hey," said the Doctor sternly. "Nothing with a good bit of old fashioned machinery, that does perfectly good music. No… mind you, this century's stuff is all machine baked factory packed pop groups, isn't it? Nah. The adverts are better than that."

There was a pause of silence where only the rattling of the central column could be heard, and then the crackling sound of a singing voice crackled into life. The Doctor smiled, reminiscing in the fact that he'd been there when the radio had been invented. So many good memories followed him around – and so many terrible ones. But the good ones vanquished them by far.

But after a while, the Doctor's smile vanished.

"She was there – by your side;

Always there to cling on to the ride –

You lost your heart to her many a time;

Found grief, and was it such a crime?"

"Turn it off, Edith."

"She took your worries, took your cares;

Was there to fight away all nightmares;

And now she's gone, how could she take

Your heart that now easily breaks?"

"What?" There was a confused silence even as the music burst forth from the crackling speakers in the ceiling; a chorus that wasn't remarkable – a chorus with words that brought back so many memories. They burned.

"She may be gone, put up those walls;

'Cause you know that angels fall –

You fall hard, walk in the rain;

Time to get up again…"

"TURN IT OFF!"

The music ended abruptly as a bewildered Edith turned the radio off. The Doctor cursed to himself in the worst Galifreyan words possible: words that not even the TARDIS would translate. It was just a song; just a stupid song. And the Doctor didn't think about it much, not anymore – it was just a memory. One of the ones that sometimes lifted him off his feet and sometimes brought him crashing down to reality. It was just on days like… on days like… well, this one, that it hurt.

It wasn't that he counted the days. And that was why it wasn't exact. Just a rough month. But if he was right, which he probably was, then it had been exactly twelve months since he'd said good bye. He didn't wake up thinking it. It was just something that gradually, as the day went on, progressed; a feeling he couldn't stamp out.

Edith had obviously retreated into herself, and she wasn't going to ask any questions, or so it seemed. And that was why she never went higher than 'assistant'. She wasn't outgoing, went along with anything; regarded him as more than her. He wasn't. Rose had, too. At the start. But she was vivid; she made the colours return to the world whereas there was nothing more to Edith than black and white. A black and white world of shade and nothing.

The TARDIS landed smoothly, for the first time in a… well, ever. Maybe it was being gentle for the Doctor. One other constant in his life that kept both his hearts ticking: the TARDIS. Immediately, the cold presence in the cold control room lifted as Edith's excitement broke forth. The Doctor saw her look towards the shut doors and glance, tempted, at her coat on the railings before the door. The Doctor pressed the monitor's scanner without much energy, and the check came up clean; it was safe to go outside. He looked up at Edith, who was looking at him with a hopeful smile on her face. He couldn't help a small, withered grin in return. But then he felt the small lump in his pocket, and the smile faded.

"Go on," he said heartily; "there's the door. I think I'll leave this one to you, actually. TARDIS has some… er, has some maintenance needs doing…"

Edith looked out at the door, tempted. "You're not coming with me?"

"You're a big girl now, aren't you? Good. Now, off you go!"

"You won't leave without me?"

"No. Now go on! Shoo!"

And so she did. Edith ran out of the TARDIS and left the Doctor to his thoughts. Left the Doctor to his thoughts, and the small device that sat in his pocket. The small device he had ignored for exactly a year, because it was coded, for some reason, not to let him in. Not for three hundred and sixty five days, anyway.

He debated about taking the small device out. That hindrance that had puzzled him, ever since the day he had found it there, blinking at him with blue lights. The technology was simple but not something you just found lying about. Not something that a person left lying in your pocket. On its face, when he'd found it, was the exact recording of seven months in seconds; it had been after he'd dealt with a strange bride who had turned up in the TARDIS. He should remember what it said, but the Doctor hadn't been in the mood for remembering. What was the point? That had been his attitude.

It wasn't now; because he'd moved on. Forgotten.

He snorted. Become a compulsive liar, more like.

Now, on the screen were the digital letters: 0 Months, 0 days, 00:00. He guessed that meant he could finally open it. But it was a choice between blissful ignorance, or another weight on his shoulders.

The questions kept sounding in his mind, though. Who was it from? What was it for? If he pressed the button, would the whole universe implode? Well, he knew that was unlikely. He knew the device only had enough memory to store a recording. But the point still stood.

The Doctor sighed. He'd always been driven by curiosity. Inside, he cursed himself.

He pressed the button.

XXXX

"You keep it secret, locked in your heart;

No time for new faces to play their part;

She'll be your angel and you'll be hers –

No time for good byes, no time for words.

XXXX

It was a voice he knew very well. It was a face, even in the eerie blue light, that he recognised. Both hearts beat faster, unbidden. He wasn't sure, even after nine hundred and fifty three years, that he was prepared emotionally for anything like this. Gallifrey's death meant nothing. Not compared to this.

"Hi, Doctor," said the voice, and the face. "Guess it feels kinda stupid saying all this, especially since you're back there stroking bits of the TARDIS, or whatever it is you do. I guess you're wondering what this whole gadget thing is about, too. Sorry. Remember last week we had trouble with all those guys who weren't just importing record-a-clips? Yeah, well, seeing as they weren't all they said they were, what with the whole guns-in-your-face thing, I decided they wouldn't miss one."

The Doctor couldn't help smiling.

"I dunno how to work it, anyway. It's got this whole… timing thing in it, so if you do ever see this, it'll probably be, like… a year in the future or something. You know what I'm like with machines!" She laughed, almost nervously. The Doctor's face fell again. What was he doing? Smiling away his memories at an image. Not Time Lord. Not good enough.

"But… the reason why I'm doing this is… well, life with you, who knows what'll happen? You're always there to save me, but one day… I dunno, you might not. It's not 'cause I don't trust you. Promise. It's just what happens. I signed up for it the moment I stepped aboard the good ship TARDIS, I guess." Another smile. A breath. A pause. And then more talking. "I'll probably sneak this into your pocket next time we go out… sorry about that. Then if we come back safe and sound, I'll take it out again. Bit stupid, really. I could come out and say this all to you right now, but I don't think the time's… right. I don't mean to go all mystical on you… that's just kind of… the way things are coming out right now."

On the recording, there was a crash and a happy whoop. The face winced, but it was still smiling.

"That's you again. Ruining your own ship. Good for you and all that!" Another pause. "Oh god, look at me, dodging around the point. Anyway. If anything happened to me, I'd want you to know the following things… and, I'm not going to pause anywhere in this. Dunno what'll happen if I do and my hand's aching holding this record button down. So… just a few things I need to get off my chest…"

The figure looked down at something in her hand. The Doctor did laugh then, because it was clear she had written it down. But as was so often with him, the smile died down just as quickly as it had risen.

"If you are watching this it means that for a start, I've actually managed to control one of your gizmos. Secondly, it means that… well, it probably means that I'm gone. Dead, or something like that. Thirdly, I want to make it known that if I am, then I couldn't be gladder that in the time I was living, in the time before I got caught or captured or any of that, that I was on an adventure with you. I don't put any blame on you. I know you once promised my mum that you'd take care of me, but in the end, it was my choice. I wanted to stay and if I went down on one of my adventures with you, that's the best end I could wish for." She looked up and smiled. "Better than dying in bed surrounded by chips," she grinned. And then it faded away to a breath, as she begun reading again.

"I – I can't tell you how much all this means to me." Her brow crinkled for a moment and the Doctor recognised it as that face she put on when she was feeling tearful. "You've done so much for me, Doctor. You blew up my job, took me to see my own planet die and got me into more trouble than I ever could have been in school." She laughed through tears that seemed to be forming in her eyes, unwillingly wiping them away. A reflection of the Doctor in his current state. "You… took me to see things that no one has ever seen before. You chose me over all those humans that could have jumped aboard or saved the day. You still do; I know, less of the past tense. I'm not dead yet. You'll have me a while longer, I'm afraid."

And then there was a long, tortuous pause where she looked down at the piece of paper, right at the bottom. Even in the bad quality recording the Doctor saw the indents of three words on the bottom of the piece of paper. She was just looking at them, staring at them, mouth open like she was trying to get the words out but she was unable to. She looked up.

"Last of all. I just wanted to say… I wanted…" more tears. "I just wanted to say that, I…" She looked around, as if she was trying to get help from the walls of the room she was in. "Oh god, what I'm trying to say, Doctor, is that…" her face was a map of waterworks. "Is that you know what I mean and that I –"

And then there was a call from behind her, a call which he recognised. A voice that said:

"Rose! You reserved this one, didn't you?"

A watery smile was directed at the small gizmo in her hand. "That's you again. And I'm going to enjoy the present as much as I can. So… see ya, Doctor. I hope you never have to hear this. I hope I never have to record another one, either. So… good bye."

She turned and left. And the recording winked out of life.

The control room was silent as the Doctor wiped unbidden, bitter tears from his eyes. It was such a rare occurrence to even feel his eyes burn; only she ever triggered such a reaction from him. Even the gentle hum of the TARDIS died away as it left the weeping Time Lord to himself.

That was his legacy. The lonely Time Lord.

Perhaps minutes, seconds, or even hours later, the Doctor spoke into the dark TARDIS interior softly. Spoke words to a woman who would never hear them; a woman who had eventually gathered the courage to say what they both knew. And yet he, a Time Lord who was nearly a millennium old, couldn't say it to her face. Couldn't overcome his pride.

"Good bye, Rose." Were the quiet words in the darkness of his world. " I know what you meant. And…"

Even now the words clumped in his throat. But he would say them. This was his moment, a moment in history, where he would confess his one ever sin in the eyes of Gallifrey. His moment to her. To make his one true confession. Maybe she'd hear it, in that other world. He opened his mouth, to say those little, wonderful words. To share the moment with her, wherever she was.

The doors of the TARDIS swung open and an excited Edith bounced through, closing them behind her and brushing flowers out of her hair.

And the moment was lost.

Author's Note:

If that made you cry, sorry. If it didn't, maybe I need to improve my writing? Anyway. Thanks for reading, sorry about the bad verses, which are MINE. I would've used the song but am sadly, not allowed. Anyway. Enjoy.

((Thank you))