Let Her Go, by Passenger. Requested by Guest.
It used to be their spot, here in the doorway, their legs dangling into space as they had their tea and just talked. He'd set them drifting over some nebula, or galaxy. Once, for a week straight, he set them over the Rose Galaxy. He never did tell her what it was called.
Now, though, he sits alone, one leg drawn to his chest, the other dangling into the abyss. He has a glass of whiskey rather than tea, though it's not making him feel better like he'd hoped it would.
The Rose Galaxy swirls in all its beauty below him.
He'd done the right thing, of that he was sure. Leaving Rose with the Meta-crisis…it was right, and they would be happy.
Happy and human.
He'd been staring at the galaxy for close to three hours now. He'd chucked the bottle of whisky away from him in anger when he'd discovered it was empty, but still held the glass. He turned it round and round in his hands, every memory of Rose, every dream of her, playing behind his eyes.
He should have known she wouldn't last. Wasn't that always the way with it? Anything good in his life, any small thing, was destroyed, or killed. Or lost. Rose was just another in a long list.
And now he was alone. It always came back to this. Him in the TARDIS, traveling through time and space. Only now the traveling didn't have the appeal it used to; not without Rose there to show him the beauty of it all.
He could've kept her. It would have been simple; remarkably simple. All he would have had to do was finish that damn sentence. If he'd just finished that sentence, she would have come with him, and everything would have been exactly as it was before. The Doctor and Rose Tyler, in the TARDIS, as it should be.
Now it was just the Doctor and his misery.
A soft snort escaped him. He hadn't ever pictured himself to be the kind to throw pity parties whilst attempting to drink himself into a stupor. He let the glass go; he didn't even have the energy to throw it. It dropped from his hand, and rolled out of the TARDIS, off into space.
He shut the doors before he walked away.
He'd made the choice to let Rose go. He would have to live with the consequences.
He only wished he'd told her he loved her first.
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