She's Gone
by TenthWeasley
It is not Rose's alarm that wakes her up, bright and early, on a Sunday morning – nobody sets alarms on Sundays, after all. After working eight hours a day, six days a week, at Torchwood, Rose likes to think that she is entitled to a break. Her mother, Jackie Tyler, appears to think otherwise.
"Sweetheart," she says, in a voice that sounds like it should be whispering, but isn't.
"Mum, what are you doing?" Rose grumbles, slamming her pillow back down around her ears, though she's already feeling too awake to go back to sleep. "It's Sunday, Mum, I've told you that you're not supposed to –"
"I know, I know." Jackie grimaces slightly, but the less-than-apologetic look on her face irks her daughter anyway. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to the shops, and I was - well, I was just wondering where that purple jacket of yours is. You know the one, yeah?"
Rose sits up on one elbow, shooting her mother a disbelieving look. "You woke me up – on a Sunday – to borrow my clothes?" Jackie smiles brightly, but says nothing, clasping her hands expectantly in her lap. Rose sighs loudly and pushes a hank of blonde hair out of her eyes.
"All right," she says under her breath, feet catching on the sheets as she stumbles out of bed. She shoves the door of the wardrobe aside and flicks through the shirts and jackets. "This?" she asks her mother without looking at her, holding a plastic hanger with a purple leather jacket draped on it over her shoulder.
"No, no – this one had short sleeves." There is a shuffling sound as Jackie rises off the bed and joins her daughter in front of the built-in wardrobe; Rose stands slightly taller than her mother, and Jackie's hair tickles the bottom of her chin.
Rose frowns, trying to remember where she saw the jacket last, so she can give it to her mother and try for a few more hours of sleep –
And then she remembers.
"Mum."
Jackie turns to her, and drops the shirt she's wielding immediately upon seeing her daughter's face. Rose's mouth looks oddly crumpled; her eyes are already sparking with tears.
"I left it on the TARDIS."
"How many other women have you kidnapped?" Donna shakes the purple cloth at the Doctor, her eyes bright with anger. He squints at it, trying to get a better look at it; he's a bit distracted by this woman in her wedding dress, screaming at him. She's a mad human, that one.
But then, just as he's about to throw the lever near his right hand to send the TARDIS zipping back towards England, and Earth… he recognizes whatever Donna is going on about. He can remember who wore that jacket, and where she wore it, and the exact way she tilted her head when she asked him a question in it.
"That's my friend's," the Doctor says dully. He didn't think the words would hurt quite that much; it feels as though both of his hearts are being ripped apart.
Donna doesn't seem to notice. She's still screaming at him, asking where this friend is, exactly, and all the while the Doctor is slowly crumbling on the inside. He hears himself say the words, rather than consciously chooses them.
"She's gone."
A/N: This is the very first story I've done for "Doctor Who", and the first in a while I've written outside the Harry Potter fandom! What did you think? Reviews are so appreciated! Thank you for reading!