Disclaimers: I don't own Doctor Who, or the characters.

Silence filled the room. A silence that left a hole in your stomach, a deep wound that still ached. The morning air fluttered through the open window, casting shadows from the many objects in the room, including the harp that was in the corner. Controlled flames leapt from the fire in the fireplace, heating the room. The Doctor's deep, ancient brown eyes flickered open. His first reaction was to shield his eyes from bright sunlight. He sighed as his eyes adjusted, letting his limp arms fall to his side, and snuggling a bit under the comfortable covers of the bed. Memories of last night pierced his memory, pain pricking at his stomach.

"Which might just mean, if I'm lucky... if I'm very, very, very, very, very, very lucky..."

His hands faltered on the spot, and his hearts stopped beating, standing up again, slowly. Reinette's footsteps echoed behind him, and he heard her speak, but the words were muffled in his mind. Useless words that just caused his hearts to ache even more. Rose was on that spaceship, with Mickey the idiot. They couldn't fly the TARDIS without him. But he was stuck here. A tear dripped down his cheek. He forced his eyes closed, refusing to think hard about it.

A soft groan escaped through his lips, and he sat up, running a hand through his hair. Afterwards, Reinette had reluctantly torn him away from the fireplace, handed him a set of rather uncomfortable set of pajamas and offered him a room. It had been lovely, a masterpiece, a fireplace in at the far wall, and a bed with silk covers. The pillow casing had been made from silk as well. The windows seemed almost invisible, not a smudge to be seen on the giant slate of glass attached to a beautiful, but fake, wooden frame. But instead of graciously accepting the room, he'd asked politely to be allowed to sleep in her old room, just to feel closer to Rose. Reinette had understood and agreed, then left him to sleep. Not that he slept often, but it being a long day, he'd actually fallen asleep rather quickly, putting the terrible absence of Rose aside for the moment and just drifting on different thoughts that would come as a comfort. They did of course, but now that there were no extra thoughts that could come to mind, the pain assaulted him, tearing down the barriers he'd put up.

He threw the covers from his body, and quickly made a dash for the nearest bathroom, which happened to be a ways down the corridor. He dashed inside, leaning over to toilet as he tried to keep to vomit that had risen in his throat, inside. Footsteps echoed down the corridor, pausing outside the closed door, gently knocking. The Doctor stood up, a blank look onto his face, and opened the door, forcing a smile.

"Hello!" He said, staggering slightly as Reinette stepped out of the way for him to exit. He steadied himself, refusing to show how much his departure with Rose had affected him. She seemed to realize though, because a sad glint appeared in her eyes, but only for a brief second and it flickered away, leaving the Doctor feeling alone with his pitiful emotions. He was a Time Lord; he shouldn't have those feelings for… for a human. An ordinary, everyday human. The only problem was, Rose hadn't been an ordinary, everyday human. She'd been clever, funny, and even adorable at times. She'd known how to comfort him when he was feeling down, how to make him laugh at the worst of times. Just the memories brought tears to his eyes.

He licked his cracked lips, his tongue lingering on the top lip, and slowly traced a small pattern before turning to Reinette and nodding.

"I do believe the time for breakfast has arrived, Doctor," Reinette said, taking his hand and leading him down the corridor. He examined her. She was wearing a beautiful, silky dress, her hair up in a perfect bun. She was almost, the Doctor realized, like another version of Rose. Clever, beautiful…

He shook the thoughts roughly from his head, stopping just outside the doors that lead to the well-decorated dinner room. The door was incredibly fancy for this year, a golden lace pattern streaming down the sides of the door frame, lying on top of white paint. A few dots of glitter were painted neatly onto the sides, catching the light. The walls were painted a beautiful blue; not quite TARDIS blue, but fairly similar. Inside, he knew that a huge chandelier hung from the ceiling, painted an eye dazzling gold that caught your attention each time you walked inside. He remembered that one of the doors led to the ballroom, where the glass from last night had hopefully been cleaned up.

Reinette seemed to notice, because she paused as well, offering a sad, yet knowing smile. She seemed uncertain of herself, because she questioned him.

"Whatever is wrong?"

The Doctor tore his gaze from the door, staring into her eyes as he fought for an excuse. He didn't want to tell her about Rose. She probably already knew, anyway. Besides, he had a feeling that he would spill soon. He certainly did have a tendency to ramble, so he was trying to keep in how much he really missed his pink and yellow human being.

"Err, I'm still in my pajamas. Yes… that's it. Got to change."

He swiftly let go of her comforting hand and tore down the dark corridor, pausing in front of his room to catch his breath. Just the sight of the fireplace made him wonder if it was possible that maybe he could have just knocked on the wrong spot, maybe it really was still working. Without even meaning too, he found himself walking ever so slowly towards the fireplace and putting a hand on the side, screwing up his face into an upset frown. He could still remember the sad look on Rose's face when he'd crashed through the window, one of loss and despair, one that had shattered the two hearts in his chest like the glass of the window. The look on Mickey's face had been one more of anger, one that had confused the Doctor at the time. Now though, he understood why he'd been so angry. He'd abandoned Rose, for Reinette, somebody he really barely knew. Rose, the girl who loved him, and not just because he could show her the universe. He'd known it all along really, but he'd grown so used to shoving any emotional feelings down into the deepest part of his mind and just ignoring it for the rest of his life. The only problem was, now that Rose wasn't with him, he found those particular emotions he'd kept hidden digging their way out. He suddenly felt as if there was a weight in his throat, and he struggled to swallow it.

"She will be there when you get there, will she not? You live forever. I saw that, in your mind."

The Doctor turned as Reinette approached him, and he smiled, though he could tell she saw the depression in his eyes. He shook his head with a cold laugh.

"Not forever. But, yes. She will be." He admitted, shaking his head with another sigh. With another forced smile, he took her hand again, and almost took a step forward, but stopped with a frown.

"Ah. I supposed dressing would be appropriate," he admitted. Reinette laughed, nodded, and left the room to allow him to dress.

He quickly slipped on his pinstriped suit, calmly adjusting the tie. The light that streamed through the window seemed to be lighting up the pockets. He turned to leave, but his attention was quickly grabbed as the corner of yellow paper stuck from the pocket. Carefully, he took it out, unfolding it, scanning the words.

Doctor! Well, hello there. You were out exploring, so I couldn't give you this personally. I mean, I could have, but I didn't want it to seem like some like of love note or anything….

Anyways, there's an Angel Food cake on the kitchen counter, added with six bananas, just the way you like it! Happy Birthday, Doctor!

- Rose

The Doctor hearts ached as he folded the note and placed it carefully in his pockets, not even daring to breath. He ran his hands over his face, trying not to let the tears fall. Taking a deep breath, he forced a smile onto his face. It looked fake to him, however. It looked sad, like he'd just lost the love of his life. Which, technically, he had. Doing the best he could to ignore it, he ran his hands over the suit to get rid of the wrinkles, and stepped from the room into the corridor.

He passed the King on the way there, much to his distaste. The King scowled at him, but said nothing as they both walked to the dinning room. It was odd, the Doctor thought. He was being treated well here, possibly a little too well. It was probably Reinette's doing, he thought, but it still felt strange when the King opened the door for the Doctor and stood back while he entered. He couldn't restrain from flashing a grin at the King, before hurrying to his seat and sitting down, across from Reinette, who had been staring at her lap until the Doctor approached.

A smile quickly spread across her features, and she shuffled in her chair, laying her hands on long table. For a moment, the Doctor imagined her to be Rose sitting in the chair, her tongue poking out between her teeth, blonde hair falling down her shoulders, bright eyed, and a joke flying out of her mouth every few minutes. Taking another deep breath, he diverted his eyes from Reinette. He knew that he couldn't pretend she was Rose, just so he could feel closer to her. That wouldn't be fair. Reinette wasn't Rose, not even close to be honest. Reinette was proper, and the thought of… well, of what Rose and him did on their travels probably confused her. Of course, there were so many other reasons that Reinette wasn't Rose, but the Doctor shook the thoughts from his head, refusing to drown in the memories again. He had to be fair to Reinette, and that meant he had to treat her like her own person.

He was stuck on the slow path, and he was going to need to get used to being human. He couldn't leave France, Reinette needed to stick to the life she had before the Clockworks invaded her time line, if she could. Well, of course she could, she was clever, and seemed to let things go quickly when he was with her. She'd been quick to let go the fact that he'd been a tad bit late when rescuing her and all the other human beings at the party. Was that a good thing? Maybe not. Maybe she needed to hang onto things a bit longer. It had happened now though, so it wasn't like that part of time could be rewritten, as the Doctor was part of events. He was dragged from his thoughts as Reinette set her hand over his, clearing her throat. He frowned, cocking his head.

"Sorry, what?" He asked, rubbing an eye and hitting his head a bit to force himself back into reality.

"You were asked if you would like a loaf of bread," Reinette informed him, biting her lip with a worried frown. The Doctor nodded to the man, who walked away, into what the Doctor assumed was the kitchen, which was no doubt just as fancy as the dinning room.

"Well, the slow path isn't too bad… so far," the Doctor lied. To be honest, it wasn't terrible. There was just so many things he missed. He missed traveling, missed his telepathic connection with the TARDIS, missed seeing the stars, as he had dreamed of doing so often as a child in the Academy, he missed Rose, and dare he even think it, he may miss Mickey and Jackie.

"That is good, I take it?" Reinette asked, patting the top of her head as if there were a few strings of hair sticking up.

"Yeah. Yes, of course."

They didn't say anything for the remainder of breakfast. It was a deadly silence, in which many glares were shot in the Doctors direction, mainly from the King. This time though, he didn't make a cheeky remark, or flash him a grin. He just sat eating the food that had been place in front of him politely, trying to ignore the fact that tugged at the corner of his mind. Rose's cooking was better. The Doctor sighed. This was going to be a long day.

XXX

The Doctor gazed curiously at the Harp, pulling softly at one of the cords. It vibrated, a hum filling the room. He ran his tongue along his teeth, closing his eyes as he listened to the comforting sound. He let his mind drift, images and memories blowing up in his head like dynamite. He winced at the memories of Rose. Not that they were bad memories. They were amazing memories; amazing thoughts that could only make him smile. But he didn't want to remember. He wanted to forget it all.

He turned to look at the door as footsteps echoed into his room. A teenager, maybe 16, was hurrying down the corridor, stopping in front of the door, but not seeming to notice the Doctor. He resembled the Doctor a bit. Brown, sticky up-y hair, freckles, but deep, forest green eyes, which looked lost and confused. He wore black and white pinstriped suit, a tie, and white converse converse. The Doctor frowned at the resemblance.

"Oi, you all right?" The Doctor called, turning around completely. The boy whipped his head around, eyes widening in shock. He opened his mouth to reply, but instead sprinted down the corridor. The Doctor smiled. He was good at running. He could easily outrun the boy, who looked a bit odd, a bit panicked, to be living in this century. He raced out of the room, glancing down the corridor, and taking off after the boy, who had only just rounded the corner.

He paused as he came into the ballroom, the shattered glass still lying on the floor. The room was silent, no footsteps to be heard. He lowered his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as he gazed around the empty room.

"Doctor?"

The Doctor whipped around, his hearts skipping a beat as Reinette called out. "Yeah?" He asked absently, angry the boy had escaped.

"What is wrong?"

"Wrong?" He muttered, finally turning his attention to Reinette. "Nothing… nothing's wrong… why isn't the glass picked up yet? Somebody could hurt themselves," he said, quickly changing the subject. Reinette looked confused, and shrugged. Either she wasn't certain why nobody has picked up the pieces or she just didn't care in general.

"Are you all right?" She finally sighed, walking towards the Doctor slowly and staring him in the eyes. He stared back, praying that any emotions weren't displayed in his eyes.

"Of course," he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I'm always all right."

"No," Reinette argued, avoiding his gaze now. "I do not think that you are."

The Doctor watched, shocked and confused, as she turned around and left the room silently, staring blankly at the ground. Had he said something to upset her? If so, what? With a long sigh, he started after her, but couldn't help but glance once more over his shoulder, trying to figure out where the boy had disappeared.

A/N: So, not sure if I'm done or not; it depends on your guys' reaction.