AN: I'm quite upset at the moment, and so this story was written purely to express my emotions. Thanks to Mydoctortennant (Whofic) and I Am Bad Wolf (Whofic) who beta-d this fic for me. Thanks also to my best friend DizziChizzi and my good friend and other beta reader Devan.Snape.
Connection of Dreams.
I had a dream. In the dream I saw the Doctor, outside the TARDIS with a wistful look in his eyes.
He was with another woman. She had a pretty face and dark hair in a spiky style. She was wearing a dark red jacket with a sheen to it that just screamed imitation leather. He was wearing a blue suit and red tie. None of the pinstripes I'd grown to love. He was grieving in the way he could. The way he knew how to grieve - moving on.
Would he tell her about me? Why would he… he didn't tell me about Sarah Jane or the others. That's all I was to him, another companion –not the first and regrettably not the last.
I told him I loved him but that didn't mean he loved me. What was he going to say on that beach? I want to think he loved me, but why would he?
I was a mere shop girl with no GCSE's.
He couldn't love anyway, he lives on, and we humans wither away and die, how could I be so cruel as to subject the Doctor to such pain – Maybe I already have.
Will he love her? Will he fall for her charms, beauty and looks? I have never met the girl, yet I've known her all of her life. She was a med student. That is before the Doctor came into her life.
She believes herself to be 'on a higher level with the Doctor.' She has asked the Doctor multiple questions since joining him, one of which was whether he'd travelled with anyone prior to her. A silence fell upon him.
"Yes. My last companion, Rose, she was…" a hazy look had swept across his face. "different."
I can now see her thoughts, she believed;
'Rose must have just been in awe.'
In the dream I'm there with him, reaching out to him – but unable to touch him, screaming out - but he's not able to hear.
The pain pierces my heart, like ice shattering in my soul. As the realisation falls upon me for what seems the thousandth time. I will never see him again.
I must still have a faint link with the TARDIS because she sent me the dream, her way of connecting the Doctor and I.
I love him. The hardest thing is to see him with her, but at least I know he's alive.
She stands there, superior to me with her knowledge and beauty, and it hurts. I should be there with him, carrying on the harmless flirting and innuendo, the handholding and the frustrating as shit platonic relationship!
I want to be by his side and on the receiving end of one of his hugs.
Will he hug her?
Will he laugh at her jokes and hold her hand?
I cannot stand the thought of that. He wouldn't hold her hand, would he? How many others were there before me? Did he act that way with all of them?
No. He didn't. I know it deep down. I just can't get over the fact that he has moved on. Did I mean nothing to him?
'Of course you did. He never acted like that with his other companions. He cried after he spoke to you on the beach. CRIED!' The Voice of the TARDIS spoke through the haze.
Moving on seems so far away to me, how could I ever? I could live my life hoping every single day that he would defeat the impossible and return to me. Or I could move on and put the past behind me. The latter is the hardest, yet the smartest thing to do.
The girl goes back into the TARDIS, leaving the blue suited Doctor behind for a second.
He looks to the direction in which I'm standing and sighs.
His eyes act as windows to the corruption within, framing the sadness that hollows his face. I can see true love, love for me, and the pain of great loss that cannot be surfaced.
I understand his reasoning – he has to keep moving, keep time moving.
Time heals everything.
But who heals time?
He does. Everything he does, he does it for existence. Who knows, maybe given the chance he would settle down, grow old and die peacefully. That's not an option though.
He once again looks my way and I proclaim my silent confessions of love to him. He turns back to the TARDIS, yet at the last moment turns around sharply and whispers words I can only just hear.
"Goodbye, Rose Tyler. Have a fantastic life. I lo…" His voice trails off as the girl comes back and drags him inside, moaning about his nonsense.
I feel as though a weight has been dropped upon me.
I wake with a start, tears rolling down my cheeks, as I choke out my sorrows.
I now have proof of the inevitable, that the Doctor has moved on.
And as I pull the covers over my head I cry myself once more to sleep.
