Red.
The Doctor always liked the color red. It meant quite a few things to him, in his 'big long book of references' and 'a million ways to kiss rose Tyler when I get the chance'.
There was Roses- of many kinds- and sunsets, but also ice-cream from Morphideli 7, and don't forget about the whole planet of Schilor where everything was red. There was also the red luscious grass of his old home Gallifrey, and although he may never admit it, was one of his favorite colors after yellow, pink, and blue.
Because flowers bloom and Rose was a flower, wasn't it just poetic her shirt looked like a blooming bloody flower?
But almost as soon as the flowers started to reach their petals out, the sheen of gold that draped her like silk, exploded. The Doctor had a moment to duck his head, eyes squinted closed. His only thought was of Rose, How Rose, Why Rose, Not Rose!
Sparks trailed through the air, lingering like the scent of smoke on the tongue. Flittering about like lost promises slowly sinking into witching wells to black and deep to see.
Before she Doctor realized it, he was free from the grasp of his captors and besides the limp form of what was once a human named Rose Tyler, but now to only his pink and yellow love who was hurt.
His hands flew around as he kneeled, not sure whether to check her wound first, her pulse, to wake her, or to run through his hair. It was solved for him when a certain monster of a man kneeled besides him. The Doctor did not look away from Rose or the ground did his eyes stray, but he knew exactly how the Master must look now.
Awe, Wonder, and complete surprise. Giddy for a new experiment to get his greedy hands on. The Doctor would never let him. He did this!
His hearts like to nimble small birds in his chest, his hand found hers. He checked her pulse, and for one startling moment, he only received nothing.
He immediately grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her slightly to look at him, to at least see her face. He needed to see her eyes one last time, check for a movement, for that spark that made Rose Tyler, Rose Tyler.
All he found was empty doors to a soul extinguished.
But the glow- the glow had meant something, hadn't it?
And even though the Doctor was a man known throughout infinity for his kindness and bravery, he was selfish. Because he didn't care if it meant her being stuck with him forever, bearing his pains and horrors- he wanted her to live.
He wanted his fears and hopes to be true, and to not be alone anymore. He needed for this to work. And although he was a selfish man for keeping Rose Tyler to himself it did not mean that his hearts weren't hers.
But he wanted to tell her that. Tell her before this happened, before the Master, the Void, the Toclofane, The Daleks, The Cybermen, The Time War, and Regeneration.
He needed to tell her. He needed this as badly as he craved air, for her to be alive and for that gold light to have actually done something good.
For once, could the universe not be kind and not give him this one thing? Was he only its plaything, its sick joke as Time's Champion, forever alone, a murderer, a savior?
For one time, couldn't he hold the person he loved?
"Doctor." It wasn't a question, but it was meant to be one in a hushed whisper. The offending speaker broke the Doctor from his thoughts, his blank gaze at the floor. Anywhere but at her, anywhere else.
What did he want now?
"Doctor!" It was louder, more exited, more rough and nervous. There was a hand suddenly on his, the one on Rose's shoulder. Before her could pull away, the hand placed a familiar, now cold, hand in his.
What was the point?
"Feel!" The Master shouted, his hand still covering the Doctor's as he held Rose's. He pressed and the Doctor felt it, something impossible but there. As he looked up and saw the gentle breathing movements of Rose's diaphragm, he felt the double beat of her pulse.
I need a moment. This is very... tense to write.
Read and Review- Changeofwings