i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)
She calls this Doctor, the one with her, New-New-New Doctor. Only in her head, of course. No one else would get it. Rose/Ten.
::
It's a strange day, she muses, as she walks, her feet sinking into the sand beneath her.
But, then again, it's always strange. Strange and sad.
She bites her lip; the waves roll against her toes, crash and slide and slip. Rose blinks once, twice, or maybe three times and buries her head in her hands.
(She still remembers. She'll always remember.)
(Things like that, like him, they don't go away.)
She reminds herself, over and over and over, until it is a mantra in her mind- he's gone, he's gone, he's gone.
Rose Tyler, she tells herself, don't be an idiot.
(Though, truthfully, that's never stopped her before.)
She puts her shoes on and walks the long beaten path back to the house.
::
She calls this Doctor, the one with her, New-New-New Doctor. Only in her head, of course.
No one else would get it.
::
Happiness cannot be defined by one thing, Rose thinks. She never really thought it could be.
She's happy here, she supposes. Happy in a different way. A quieter way, a simpler type of happiness.
It's not like before, but it's not bad, either. (it's just- it's not good, is it? not when she can remember everything from…)
Happiness, to Rose, has always been little things, nice things- sailing along in space, stars flashing past her eyes, arms and legs tangled holding on to everything and anything and him-
But Rose has always been a bit nostalgic.
("that was our first date."
"we had chips." )
::
Rose doesn't say I love you, anymore. Not to anyone. Not even to the (real but not really, not actually) Doctor.
(new-new-new-new- he had said it again and again and it had made her laugh, from the top of her toes to her fingertips, thrumming and running though her.)
She says it in her head, she dreams it at night and it echoes in her, bounces off the sides of her brain, her heart.
But she never says it out loud.
(Lessons well learned, and all that, yeah? She doesn't say it because it just reminds her of that, and she's never been one for reopening wounds, at least, not anymore.)
::
The sun sets, days pass, fly off the calendar.
She doesn't keep count. Time is relative, a wise person once said. She doesn't quite remember who.
She gets older, years older, with a different but not different Doctor who whispers love in her ears and grows up with her.
It's not the same, but. She finds she doesn't mind.
::
He sits down next to her. The sand surrounds them, and his hand grips at hers.
It's been a few days since they've seen each other.
I missed you, he lets her know, his tone warm and comforting.
She smiles a little, allows her fingers to curl slightly around his.
I know, she says quietly.
::
She looks into the distance. The color of the sea is almost the same color of the-
well.
(Her heart beats.)
::
fin.