Rose was beautiful, as always. She barely looked as though she had really aged since he last saw her, since he watched her begin her life with his double, his carbon copy. He wanted nothing more than to throw aside the people in between them and wrap her up in his arms, to bury his face in her hair and tell her that he was back and that he wanted her to come with him again. That he had missed her so much and couldn't live another day without her. That he loved her. But, he didn't. He didn't because he didn't want to ruin their beautiful, lovely, shining day. He didn't want to flip their lives upside down.

They were walking, Rose and the man who was him but wasn't at the same time. She had her hand in his and every now and then she would laugh or drop her head onto his shoulder. The slowly setting sun cast orange light all around them. It lit up her hair and offered a darkened silhouette for him to stare at. Something for him to focus on as he moved silently through the crowd, a mere five feet behind her. He swore he could almost smell her hair, could feel her hand enveloped in his, could hear her laugh and see that smile.

He could reach out. He could tap her on the shoulder. He could do so many things to make her notice him, to make her see that he was there. A seemingly endless number of things. His Rose. His beautiful, strong, golden ray of sunlight. Standing so close he could feel his hearts singing. Could hear his brain screaming: what are you doing? She's right there! Grab her! You won't be able to watch her walk away again. You'll go mad.

But then his phone was buzzing in his pocket and he knew that when he answered Donna would be on the other line. Donna who was lovely and so much more than a temp and his best friend. Donna who was not the woman standing in front of him. Regardless, he slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out the small vibrating rectangle and held it to his ear.

"Doctor?" She said as he answered, "I think I've got something. Meet me back at the TARDIS?"

"Yes," He answered, "Of course. I'll see you in a few minutes." He hung up without waiting for her answer and slowly moved out of the crowd, to the line of buildings that surrounded the town square.

He felt dread, sharp and painful, coiled in his stomach. He dreaded going back to the TARDIS. Why? It was his home, why would he dread it? Was it because there were mementos of her everywhere? Was it because his pillow, his bed, his room, they all still smelled of her? After all this time? Perhaps it was simply because her laughter would never bounce down the hall to wake him up. Maybe it was because he knew that she would never, ever set foot in his home again. She would never bake cookies in the kitchen or force him into watching odd human TV shows on their "off days".

Then, he knew. It was because the universe dictated that it should be one way. A certain way. The Doctor and Rose Tyler. In the TARDIS. The oldest laws in the universe proclaimed it, demanded it, stated it. And yet, the world had decided to switch course. Instead, it decided to tell the man who could go anywhere and do anything that he could never hold Rose Tyler again. That he could never, ever tell the woman he loved that she was important and special.

With that thought, he turned, tearing his eyes from her almost ethereal form, and heading for his home. His empty, echoing home.