Letter Ten

Another long time had passed since the last letter. And somehow, after it, he hadn't really expected another one. But there it was. There was this well-known envelope, lying right under the screen when he came back to the console room after he had allowed himself some sleep.

Rose's last two letters had been draining him, making him feel guilty that he hadn't realized that Julian might not survive either, that to him the same would happen as it would have to Donna hadn't he acted on time and taken away her memories.

Now the other Him was dead. And he had left Rose with a burden that probably was much bigger than being left behind in Pete's World, to be practically abandoned and dumped, only because he hadn't wanted to have the meta-crisis Him on board. Especially not if Rose had been with them, too. Because eventually, she would have had to make a decision.

He had thought that his broken hearts were a price worth to pay for her happiness. He hadn't wanted anything else more than his Rose to be happy. And despite the initial hurt he had caused her with leaving her in the parallel world, he had known that eventually she would adjust to the life there, and to living with the second Him, and that she would understand that it was the best this way.

He had never even considered the meta-crisis wouldn't work the other way around either. Wouldn't work, even if the original DNA had been Gallifreyan and the mind improved for the requirements of being a Time Lord. Without examining his clone, he couldn't find out what really had happened. So he would never know. And so wouldn't Rose.

He had been surprised to find her last letter without any blames. He had thought she would be angry at him, that she would think it was his fault, that he hadn't cared enough to notice and think of possible problems.

But then, he told himself, Rose knew him, and Rose knew the meta-crisis self knew as much as he did. Had there been any issues, they both would have known. But neither of them did.

He closed his eyes shortly before he took the envelope, opened it and took out the letter. Whatever she was writing - he somehow knew that it were the last words he would hear, read from her.

Dear Doctor,

This will be my last letter. At least I think it will be the last. I'll try what Bad Wolf told me to do and hope that it will somehow reunite me with you. If not, I'll probably die trying. But aside from mum and dad and Tony there's nothing and that holds me here; that keeps me wanting to go on living here. My three beloved ones have each other; they will be fine.

Not even three decades of life, and I've seen and experienced more than other people will in a whole lifetime. I've seen so many worlds, so many species; I've seen history and the future. You've showed me so much and I will be always thankful for it. You've changed my life; you have made it worth living it.

Looking back, I would never decide differently; I would always follow you into the TARDIS and off to all those adventures. Even if it was sometimes, often, dangerous, life-threatening, it was also the time of my life.

When you had to leave me here, twice, I was devastated. With the devices Torchwood had I could have traveled through time and space, too, but it would have never been the same without you. Yes, I had Julian, and I loved him. But as strong as my love for him was, and as much as he helped me going on - he was never you. And there were times when I just wanted you back, and our life together; I needed your optimism, always there despite all the horror and throwbacks; I needed your enthusiasm, every time we arrived on a new world, or in a new time.

I had never before realized how much this had become part of my life, a naturalness I thought would always be there. And now I am at a point in my life I know I simply can't go on like this anymore.

My beloved Doctor, when I finish this letter, I will return to Dålig Ulv Stranden, and I will follow the instructions of what we had once gotten to know as Bad Wolf. And while I don't know what will happen, I hope it will bring me salvation, in any way. With Julian gone and you so far away, there is nothing else for me to do than take the last opportunity, one last try to return.

I love you, my Doctor. I always will.

Forever yours.

Rose

---

A single tear rolled down his cheek when he finished the letter; one single drop of salty water that carried the sadness of a whole lifetime. Even he didn't know what would happen; he didn't know what Bad Wolf had instructed her to do, he didn't even know how it had been possible for Bad Wolf to return.

And now there he was, neither knowing how long he should wait, nor what to expect. He would wait forever for his Rose, but his hearts broke just a bit more with every second that passed, and he didn't know if he could and would live with this emptiness he felt inside any longer. Even for him it became too much to bear.

Rose had never given up, and he owed it to her to also not give up. But even a Time Lord, used to seeing beloved people come and go, used to them leaving him, wasn't able to survive his hearts being torn apart by the pain of losing someone so deeply loved again and again.

His hands held the letter tight, the maybe last valid thing he had of his Rose. He hoped that, whatever had brought him these letters would also bring him Rose. But his hopes were worn out and weakened, and as desperately as he held onto them, he nevertheless feared of losing them.

"My dear Doctor," he suddenly heard the gentle whisper of a voice he had believed long since gone, a voice whose rhythm his hearts were beating with.

And when he looked up, he barely dared to trust his eyes, but he knew that it wasn't a reflection or projection, no hologram, no hallucination, no figment of his imagination. He didn't need the readings on the console display, didn't need to hear the intruder alarm he had installed lately and that only sounded for a few short seconds because the TARDIS recognized the well-known visitor.

No, standing there, inside his TARDIS, true and real and so alive, like she'd never been anywhere else, like she belonged there by the laws of time and space, was the one person he had never dreamt of seeing ever again.

"Rose."

END