Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who in any way, shape, or form.
It had been three months since that fateful day at Canary Wharf. The Doctor hadn't yet found anybody to travel with, somebody to fill that extreme space in his hearts. To be fair, he hadn't found anybody that could ever compare to his pink and yellow girl.
There was one woman who had come along at one point, not by choice, but she had still been there for him. Donna Noble was her name, and she was a sassy woman. However, the Doctor had returned her to her family, not yet feeling ready to have somebody there with him. Somebody that was not her.
Sometimes, it felt as though it had only been a mere day since he'd lost her, since he'd lost the chance to say that he loved her with all of his two hearts. There was nothing that he wanted more, than to bring her back home, to her Earth, back into his arms where he could keep her warm. There were days that he spent, simply floating through space, his eyes red and puffy, face covered in tears, and her bed sheets crinkled from where he'd had them bunched between his hands ever so tightly for long periods of time. These were the times that he willed for her to come back, to just waltz on in through the front doors of the TARDIS, cracking a joke at him, even telling him off for whatever it was that he'd done on whatever planet that they'd been on.
Even the TARDIS felt the Doctor's pain. She watched on as her thief grew weary, sometimes passing out from emotional exhaustion. There would be a soft hum from the interior when he did this; the TARDIS knew that there was nothing that could be done on her part that wouldn't end up with the Doctor back in her room, sobbing over what was no more.
Anybody else could see that the Doctor was broken, and only few knew why. Some had asked what had happened to the bright and bubbly blonde companion, to which the Doctor had to turn away and take a moment to regain himself before simply stating that she was gone, lost forever. Most offered sympathies, some stayed silent, still wondering. Nobody really knew what to say, which was why the Time Lord kept himself locked away in the farthest reaches of the universe.
Occasionally, he'd help out the Earth below in their time of need, making sure that the rest of the human race could stay safe, and not suffer the same fate that the pink and yellow girl had. There had been a few times that the Doctor would truly show his cold side, for instance, if he'd given an alien race one good warning, and they'd chosen to ignore it, there would be no mercy on his behalf. Yet there was nobody there to stop him, nobody that could keep that small amount of human inside of him alive.
Still, it all came down to her; the only reason that he kept on going. His pink and yellow Rose. He thought that if he fought hard and long enough, she would come back to him, one way or another. But for now, he was alone.
A/N: Hello, lovely people of the interwebs. It is Em, and I have returned to bring you this...well, drabble, to you. I was listening to some sad music, and this came to my mind. I've been re-watching the 2005 Doctor Who series, yet to watch "Army of Ghosts" and "Doomsday" (for obvious reasons of feels), and I keep listening to the score music, by the brilliant Murray Gold.
Now I'm just rambling... However, this is just what came to me, and I made myself sad by writing this (SORRY!).
Also, when I wrote of the Doctor returning to help Earth those occasional times, I tend to think that he might have had a few trips before he meets Martha.
Anywho, catch you later!
