Summary: Rose wonders who she is and the TARDIS is more than happy to answer.
READ:This is part of my TARDIS series – not at all connected with lost chances or reclaiming the lost, but the newest addition to those will be up soon. In the meantime ENJOY!
Rose Tyler knows who she is. Knows that she is blonde, has big brown eyes, stands at about five foot five inches, and that she weighs one hundred and thirty pounds and is still dropping down in pounds thanks to all that running. She knows about herself.
But still she wonders.
She wonders if she's the kind of person that people flock to. If, maybe, someone – somewhere in the universe – would die for her, despite all her flaws and shortcomings. Does someone want to hold her when she's sobbing and not out of any motherly duty but out of the sheer ache to make her feel better? What kind of person will she be?
And the one that haunts her more and more as time wears on is: am I cut out for this life?
The running and the racing and laughing and chasing and bounding and bleeding and falling over and over and over again for the man with the eternal spirit. Can she truly live like this for the rest of her life?
She used to think she was; that if anyone asked her to leave her new life she would recoil as if visibly struck and dart back into the safeness of the TARDIS, back into her Doctor, and beg to go anywhere else where the temptation of leavingandnevercomingback isn't there.
But maybe she isn't, maybe she secretly wants to hide away in normality, in the mundane.
"Maybe I don't deserve to be here. Maybe I shouldn't be." She whispers to column, placing a hand on the glass (it's moving under my skin she remembers exclaiming to the doctor as he laughed and laughed, delighted in her naiveté).
Suddenly something wild and angry slams into her mind, pressing against her spirit, and crushing her mind under its grip, crying out to her in a language lost to the stars long ago. And, dear god, it hurts and she's burning and aching and makeitstop! But it doesn't and it's stronger and she's going to die if it doesn't stop.
And then there is a voice, a voice that doesn't sound like a voice, but sounds like a thousand souls whispering in her ears, " You are Rose Tyler."
" Wh-who are you?" Rose sobs out, and there is a golden light and she knows.
"TARDIS?" She claws at the grate, pulling herself up, only to fall back and clutch at her head. It hurts so much – she can't take much more – pleasestop.
" You know who you are, We know who you are." The TARDIS gleans in her mind, settling itself within her psyche, " You are all that was and will ever be. Your life is so fleeting, yet you stretch into forever. Your hand reaches to the beyond, to the before, when stars never were, and the after, when stars cease to be. You are all that ever was; all that ever could be; you are every turn of the universe, every breath taken by a new born and the last that will ever be taken. You are the howl of the wolf, left to feed upon the flesh of the fallen."
Rose shivers at the intensity of the ache in the voice, of the pain in her head, of the sudden burn in her bones.
" You are Time. And We are your guardian." There is a soothing light beyond the pain, one where universes end and begin and where there are worlds where the skies are burning, where seas are asleep, and the rivers are dreaming. People made of smoke and cities of song. Eons of life and death spread out in her mind, blooming like a flower.
And beneath all of that, where only the echo of her true self lies, there is a soft growl and a warning.
("who is afraid of the big bad wolf?")
And Rose Tyler knows who she is. Knows how important and vital she is to the world. Sees the people that will die for her, people that choose it, sees the freedom and the death and the pain and the sacrifice she will make. She sees her own end and her rebirth and her end again (this one is quite permanent and hurts more than she can stand).
Rose Tyler sees her future and forgets forever.
Aimlessly Unknown.