Mind.
The mind is a mix of swirling, interlinking almost surreal colours which can bend and warp to any shape or design that your subconscious can create. You can remove yourself from the harsh bonds of the mortal world and retreat into your own dimension where nothing exists unless you want it to. Where nothing seems to be able to hurt you unless you let it. If you do, then your mind, the mixture of melancholy almost familiar colours from a moment ago can turn into a swirling torrent of never ending dark colours like blacks, midnight blues and ruby-blood reds. They pull you away from everything you ever believed in, everything you ever trusted. You begin to forget just which way to go to find yourself again, and you slowly fall through the blackness in the one place where no-one can hear you scream. In your memories. Inside your mind.
The Doctor half swept, half skidded into the TARDIS, slamming the door hurriedly behind him. His long, pale brown trench coat billowed out behind him in his wake as he took long strides to the Console, pausing only momentarily before it as something slammed forcibly into the doors on the outside of his ship, his only companion now. He regained his bearings and, with a shake of his head to dispel the all too memorable images which were taunting him, he began setting a course so that the TARDIS would float quietly in the Time Vortex. Said Time Ship jolted violently as he pulled down the last lever with a force that almost snapped it, but he kept his balance with a well practiced ease, clinging tightly onto the rail which ran the perimeter of the Console. He watched absently as his knuckles turned white from the pressure, and let his mind drift. Dangerously far away.
To Rose Tyler.
Rose sat down heavily on her soft bed, the mattress bowing under her weight and the covers sliding out of alignment as she kicked off her shoes and folded her long legs under her. She breathed deeply, trying desperately to rid her mind of the images of the TARDIS and The Doctor, which so often invaded her thoughts when she felt lonely or scared. Even though there was a deeper reason for it, she knew it was mostly because he had always made her feel safe and less lonely with his presence...like he would never physically be able to do again. She swallowed the burning lump which had formed in her throat as the memories, along with fresh tears, threatened to overwhelm her again and drag her into another restless sleep. For a moment, she stubbornly refused to grant the memories the ability to bring her to her knees, but as tears swam over her vision, she gave in and allowed her mind to drift further away. Too far.
To The Doctor.
Unseen, unfelt by either of the lonely and weary travellers, their minds reached through Time and Space, connecting as one. Their separate colours and shapes mixed, alien and human, creating new patterns worthy of any world. Then, suddenly, they were there, together in their joined minds, dancing eternally to some long forgotten melody that only they could hear which played silently into the atmosphere. The colours around them swirled and faded, to be replaced by new ones. But the old colours, which could now be described only as memories, did not die, they merely faded away until a Time when they would once again dance with the travellers to the silent music. And as the almost human figures faded, the new and old memories continued to dance, a slow, intricate movement almost as old as Time itself, which told of broken promises and forgiveness, but never loneliness. For you are never lonely within your mind and anyone who has ever said an unforgettable goodbye will know that the last dance is the most precious of all.
A/N: Another Fanfiction from me, only my second on here although I've written a few, but I can't post them all sadly as they are all on a computer with no Internet! Anyway, I hope you liked this, and I would be eternally grateful if you could Review.
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of the BBC and Russell T. Davies so I own nothing but the plot and my overactive imagination.