Disclaimer: I own nothing...well I own a David Tennant action figure but its not as cute as the real thing...in short i play in the worlds others make.
Peter Pan At The Window
"Once upon a time there was a man. And this man could never die…"
The Doctor steps out onto the dew wet grass of the dark back garden and wonders why the Tardis has brought him here. A suburban back garden behind a bungalow. He quietly shuts the Tardis door behind him. His latest companion left him yesterday to marry a prince. He smirks to himself. A kitchen maid from 1888 marrying a prince in 2888. The universe is not without irony.
He steals across the grass towards the one lit window where he can hear low voices. He peeks round the window frame and sees two small children, a boy and a girl, sitting in their beds while a silvery haired old lady tells them a story.
"Why couldn't he die Nana?" the girl asks.
"He just couldn't. He regenerates instead."
"What's regener…regenerates?" the boy asks.
"It means that he turns into a new person. But inside he's still the same man. He just looks and acts a bit different."
The Doctor frowns. Who is this old lady who is telling her grandchildren tales of him?
"Did he change when you knew him Nana?"
His head snaps up to listen again.
"Yes. Once. I was a little afraid because he hadn't told me what was happening. But I loved him just as much then."
The Doctor leans his head back against the brickwork and breathes out shakily. It can't be. It just can't be her. He can't be here. He pushes himself off the wall and returns to the Tardis.
The next night he returns the Tardis to the garden and goes to the window to listen. The old lady is telling them about children whose faces turn into gas masks and a dashing American who came from the 51st century and danced with her on top of a spaceship in front of Big Ben.
The next night she tells of Cassandra and laying in apple grass and wondering about the new new Doctor, and of werewolves and Queen Victoria. So many details that it takes his breath away. The nights after that are filled with stories of far off planets, the end of the world, of losing her face to a monster inside a television, of Cybermen and Daleks. Of her own mother. Of Mickey. Of Jack. Of the man she shared all these fantastic journeys with.
The Doctor shifts his weight on the upturned flowerpot on which he is sat, beneath the height of the windowsill. The nights are chilly but he keeps coming to hear her stories even though he lived them all with her. He lived every second of them with her. But somehow listening to her voice tell them they seem different. He didn't realise how she felt during some of their adventures. Never realised quite how scared she got, or how much she relied on him just to get her through it all. He wraps his coat tighter around him against the damp chill that seeps into his bones.
"Nana can you describe his space ship again?"
"It's a big blue police box. Why darling?"
"Like that one?"
The Doctor looks up to see a chubby child's finger pressed on the glass pointing down the garden at the Tardis.
"Yes…exactly like that one," she answers her granddaughter, her voice dull. "Wait here."
He hears the sound of movement and darts into the bushes at the side of the garden, praying that he is well enough hidden. The back door opens and the beam of a torch slices across the dark garden.
"Doctor?" she calls softly, stepping onto the patio.
He slides further along the flowerbed, against the fence. How can he face her now? After all this time.
She walks to the Tardis, tries the locked door. Then fumbles around her neck for the chain that hangs there. She pulls out a key. Her Tardis key. He gave that to her. She tries it in the door and opens it. She puts her head inside. "Doctor?" she calls louder.
He stays silent, leaning against the wooden fence panel, the smell of damp vegetation filling his nostrils.
She pulls the door shut and rests her hand against the faded blue paint.
"Where have you been old friend?" she asks the wooden box.
Then she turns and sweeps the beam of the torch across the garden. "Doctor? Doctor!" she shouts, well aware of the faces of her two grandchildren pressed against the window. "I know you're here somewhere!"
She walks back to the patio and spots the flowerpot, frowns at it momentarily. "I know you're here. Don't play games with me! Doctor! DOCTOR!"
He balls his hands into fists at his sides. She's an old lady. She's lived her life without you man, don't do it. You can't do that to her. She's got grandchildren. Which means she married and had children of her own. You had to leave her a long time ago. You had to let go. But she has aged well, he notices. There is that same sparkle to her eyes. He closes his eyes and leans his head back on the fence. Leave her alone.
"I know you're here. I can see your plimsolls." She is shining the torch right at the bush he is behind. He glances down. Yes, his plimsolls are sticking out white against the dark earth.
He steps out of the flowerbed onto the edge of the lawn.
"Hello Rose."
She shines the torch into his face and he squints. "Oh God it is you."
The torch drops to the grass with a thud. He crosses the garden to her in a few long strides. "Rose…"
She has covered her face with her hands.
"Rose please look at me," he pleads.
"You haven't changed. Not one bit," she says looking up at him. "My Doctor." Her eyes sparkle with tears. "Look at me. I'm old! And you…"
He reaches for her and finds his hands are shaking. He touches her shoulders gently. "Rose…don't. I…you…" his voice wavers. Then he throws his arms around her and picks her up in a tight hug. "I've missed you."
He sets her down lightly on the grass and stares at her. She is so light. A shadow of the vivacious young girl he had known. An old woman who has lived a long life without him whom he does not know anymore.
"Its cold," she says suddenly. "Would you like to come inside?"
"I…" he steps back suddenly nervous. "I don't know if I should…" he nods towards the children's faces pressed against the window.
"Oh," Rose breathes out softly. "I see." She stoops stiffly to pick up the torch, holding her back. The Doctor darts down and picks it up for her. He hands it to her.
"I really would like to talk to you."
"My grandchildren go home tomorrow. Their parents have been on holiday. Come back tomorrow night if you still want to talk Doctor." She doesn't expect him to come.
"A real life spaceman came to visit Nana last night!"
"Really?" Jackie looks at Rose. "Mum have you been filling their heads with your stories?"
Rose just smiles and kisses her grandchildren goodbye. Her own daughter hasn't believed in the Doctor since she was a teenager. He is Father Christmas, the Tooth Fairy and the Bogeyman all rolled into one.
Her two grandchildren wave all the way down the road.
Rose walks back into the house and finds him sitting on her sofa drinking a cup of tea, his coat slung over an armchair, her old ginger moggy Barcelona curled up asleep on his lap She stares at him from the doorway for a long time. She is an old woman and he hasn't aged a day. He sets down the tea and sighs to himself. Rubs his eyebrows with one hand and sighs again.
"Hello Doctor," she says and steps into the room.
The Doctor looks round at her and smiles, his hand fusses Barcelona's ears. Rose shuffles to sit beside him.
"Was it Mickey?"
"Was what Mickey?" Rose asks questioningly.
"Did you…marry him?" The Doctor can't quite get his words out.
She shakes her head. "No I didn't marry Mickey." She looks over a scatter of faded framed photographs on a small table nearby. "His name was James. He didn't know about you. You were just a fairytale to my children."
"How many?"
"Two. A son and a daughter. Richard and Jackie. After mum."
He breathes out slowly.
"You?" she asks probingly.
The Doctor shakes his head. "None. You know me, I don't do domestic."
She smiles, remembering. "You haven't changed."
He gestures to himself. "No. I've been lucky."
"And I got old. And I'll bet you've had a hundred girls ride in your spaceship."
He shrugs. "A few. A few boys too."
"Jack?" she asks hopefully.
He nods. "Yes. Not for long though. He has his own stuff to do. He asked about you."
She looks at her hands, which are folded in her lap stiffly. And stares at the gold wedding ring on her hand.
The Doctor follows her gaze with his own and winces inwardly. "Where is he? Your husband."
She circles the ring on her finger. "He died."
"Oh." The Doctor doesn't know what quite to say.
"It doesn't matter now," she says softly. "I never thought I'd see you again."
"Nor did I."
"Did you…"
"I …"
They both try to speak at the same time and both stop, stare at each other awkwardly.
"I missed you," the Doctor finally says, staring at her shyly.
Rose starts to cry. "I missed you too. Doctor…I…"
The Doctor slides his arm around her shoulders and pulls her close to his side. "I know. I've always known." He presses his lips to the side of her head. "I never forgot you Rose. Not a day went by that I didn't think about you. I've fought monsters and done so many things, met so many people…you're the only one who tortured me so." He smiles to show that he is joking and Rose smiles back.
They talk for hours, long into the night. Swapping stories of their lives apart. Spend too many moments just staring at each other and trying to not to catch the other's eye. Rose feels like a schoolgirl again, all nervous and shy around the boy she likes. But this man isn't a boy and she isn't a young girl. They've seen too much, together and apart, and it shows. She sees him look at her, that small frown between his eyebrows and she knows what he is thinking. She got old. The Rose he had held in his head for all those years grew up, got married, loved and lived and forgot him. But she never did. She hated having to pretend he was a fairy tale. A handsome prince from a far off land. A hero who never aged. Who left her on that windswept beach and didn't come back.
The Doctor knows what Rose is thinking. She's thinking about how she got old, how she can't help him anymore. She can't he realises suddenly. Because he knows what is going to happen to her. He's seen it often enough to grasp. She has no idea. He feels the tears well up behind his eyes. Just when he found her again…he blinks and looks down at her. He has so much he wants to find out and he doesn't have the time to ask her. That's why the TARDIS brought him here.
He decides that for once he won't be a coward.
"Rose?" he cups the side of her face with his hand gently, and stares into her eyes. "I love you. I always have. Always will."
"You know I love you Doctor."
He smiles at her and pulls her tighter against him. "You should sleep Rose, it's very late. We'll talk in the morning."
She fixes him with a fierce stare. "You'd better stay."
"Every second."
The go slowly into her bedroom and she lies down in the bed. The Doctor sits himself in an easy chair to one side.
"You don't think this is creepy do you?" she asks him smiling. "I'm an old lady now Doctor."
"I know. But I still love you. I'll be right here when you wake up." He stands and crosses the space to the bed in two long-legged strides. He leans down and kisses her lightly on the lips. "Sleep well my Rose."
"Sleep well my Doctor," she murmurs drowsily and closes her beautiful eyes. The Doctor sits down and watches her slowly slip away. But she dies with a smile on her lips. He cries when she goes, silent desperate tears that run down his cheeks. He can't even wipe them away. The TARDIS brought him here so Rose would see him again one last time before she died. But it didn't stop it hurting. He kisses her again on the cheek as the first flush of dawn creeps into the sky.
"Goodbye Rose," he says softly.
He rings the ambulance before he leaves the house. He wants her children to know.
He crosses the garden swiftly as he hears the sirens approach and enters the TARDIS. For a moment he swears he can hear her laughter on the wind.
But she died happy. She got her wish. She died with a smile and he was glad. Rose Tyler had a fantastic life. It just wasn't with him.
The End