Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Doctor who, they belong to Russell T Davis and the BBC. I do own the plot and any characters you don't recognise.
Love is not always fairytales and romance
They had just left eighteenth century France. The Doctor had been too late and left discovering Madam Reinette de Pompadour died, died waiting for him to return, but he never did.
He had been too late by mere minutes to him, but several of years to her. She had died loving him, leaving him few last precious words in a letter, a letter that left the Doctor full of grief, anguish, but above all guilt.
He had loved her. He had known her for a day, whilst she had known him practically all of her life. Had a day been enough for the Doctor to fall in love? No. It had not been for him.
But that was not the only reason the Doctor was riddled with guilt. Yes he had loved Reinette, no he not been in love with her, but someone else who he was without a shadow of doubt in love with.
He loved that someone more, more by a tenfold then compared to the love he had for Reinette, that someone being his young female companion, Rose Tyler.
She was the woman who taught him how to love again after his planet blew up taking all of his people with it. She was the young woman who risked her life for his own, regardless of the dire consequences to her self.
She had been willing to give up her life so that he could live. He felt guilt because he had left her and Mickey to die on that space ship without a second thought as to how it would affect Rose.
He had gone on right a head, stranding him self in the eighteenth century, unknowing weather he had a way back or not. The fire place had been a mere fluke.
He had hurt Rose, he had hurt her badly. But what made it worse was that she never complained, when he had returned through the fire place looking broken and guilt ridden.
She had merely asked him if he was alright, she had not ranted and raved and verbally laid into him, like she had every damned right to have done.
Not once did she complain when the Doctor had gotten drunk on the equivalent of a two hundred and fifty year-old Gallifreyan whiskey.
Gotten drunk and had taken her up against one of the walls of the TARDIS console room. Taken what he had wanted hard fast and selfishly, but by no means was it taken by force.
The Doctor had been drunk, but never enough to forget who he was with and who he loved. Never by force always by consent weather she had gained any sort of pleasure from the encounter before the Doctor had relieved him self inside of her.
Gotten drunk after seeing Sara-Jane again, guilty for the fact he had just left her behind and the fact she had loved him and had never moved on with her life.
Never found a handsome and loving man to marry and settled down with and have loads of beautiful babies with.
Her only company and lasting reminder of what had once belonged to the Doctor, a tin dog, K9, a battered and rusted and old loyal tin dog. That was all she had left of the Doctor.
Gotten drunk as he was plagued with the horrible and hearts breaking knowledge that Rose was going to one day leave him. She was going to age wither away and decay, like all humans eventually did.
The Doctor had looked up from the main console, as he watched Rose just standing there with her hands resting on the other side of the console. looking down at nothing, just merely staring.
The TARDIS was sick of Rose being hurt by the Doctor, and she was sick of her Doctor being tormented over something that would never happen.
Rose was the bad wolf. When she had taken the time vortex into her self, she had come dangerously close to dieing. In order to have prevented that, the TARDIS had changed Rose's DNA so it resembled something like the Doctor's.
Rose did not have two hearts she was not a Time Lady, but she did have the ability to regenerate three times to match the Doctor's three remaining regenerations.
The TARDIS had not wanted the Doctor to be left all alone. So she had given Rose to him until his last day. It had been given as a gift.
So the TARDIS was dead set on sorting out the problem. It had gone on for long enough. The Doctor and Rose loved each other; both were just far too disgustingly stubborn.
So the TARDIS took action where it was needed. She allowed the Doctor to hear Rose's thoughts. Rose would never know the Doctor had been given access to her thoughts without he ever told her so.
The Doctor startled when he realised he could hear Rose speaking. He looked up to find Rose was still looking down and her mouth was unmoving. He listened realising it was her thoughts he could hear, but how?
What Rose was thinking was enough to break his hearts and make him feel physically ill with guilt.
'He does not love me, why should he when he could have someone like Madam de Pompadour, someone French and more beautiful then I could have hope or dream of being.
Madam de Pompadour who is more intelligent and interesting then me, who can hold an intelligent conversation without looking like an idiot, someone who is like the Doctor, and not a twenty year-old ex- shop assistant.
Why me when he could have the uncrowned queen of France mistress to the king of France, compared to me a common twenty first century Londoner?
There is no room to compare, I am nothing compared to her, and I shall never ever be. His love will never be mine.
He will leave me behind, just like he did with Sara-Jane. I am just a companion someone he travels with. Another in the long line and will continue on even after I am long dead and buried.
How do I keep making excuses when he catches me of a morning being ill, due to the fact I am currently carrying the last of the Time Lords?
How do I tell him that after getting drunk and participating in that drunken passionate love making that meant everything to me, but most likely nothing to him, has left me pregnant?
I cannot hate him, as I love him more then breathing. I cannot hate him for leaving me behind to go to her. I can not hate him for loving her.
All I can do is love him with all that I am, love him knowing my love will always be one sided. He will never be mine he will never love me back, my Doctor.
Love is not always about fairytales and romance. It is time I learned and accepted that. It is time to grow up and leave those stupid and childish fantasies and ridiculous notions behind'
The Doctor felt tears fill his eyes, as he staggered slightly and held onto the console to remain up right. He felt like someone had just punched him in the stomach.
She was pregnant, and with his baby, the last of the Time Lords. She loved him, never expecting to be loved in return.
If only she knew how much he loved and adored her. He was crazy and madly in love, she was his everything, and she didn't even have a clue.
He loved every last single beautiful inch of her. He was going to make sure she knew how much he loved and adored her. How much he needed and wanted her, her and no one else.