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A/n: 1223 hits and 345 visitors. :) and yet only 5 reviews...
000
She's starting to notice.
She used to move across worlds but never living them, passing by but never seeing, never feeling, never remembering. She lived in happy numbness, untouchable and untouched, safe. He's dangerous, and most of her wants to run away as fast as her legs can take her, wants to find a dark corner and hide like she's been doing ever since they came.
But there are two thems now, two groups of people that matter. There's them them, the first them, who came with fear and destruction and ripped her apart. Then there's the other them, the two she can see and the song that follows them. So many times she'll be sitting, waiting for that one, and then she'll see him or her, and she'll hear the song and be filled with need for…something, she doesn't know what it is, but it's wonderful and warm and so, so sad, so sad that it almost hurts.
She didn't even start to notice that one until she started seeing them. They make everything clear and bright and important, which it used to be but isn't anymore because of them.
She can't even keep the two different thems straight in her head. Everything's too broken, too separate from all of the other parts, only now they're starting to come together and work a little, and somehow she knows that it's all their (not the bad they, the other ones) fault because she never even realized that anything existed before they came and confused her. She was never confused before, just numb and alone and waiting and that was fine, perfectly fine.
It wasn't fine, part of her mutters, the part that want to follow the song. It wasn't fine and it isn't fine, but he can make it fine so just be a good girl and go with him, yeah? No, she can't think about it, best to just stop.
She wouldn't even have noticed that she has been noticing if they weren't here again, staring at her. She's never been this close to either of them. The red one (ginger, something about that matters, ginger) is trying to get the other one's attention, but he's just staring at her. If he were anybody else she would want to hide, but he's him and for some reason that makes him special…
Something falls to the pavement between them, and they look behind her. She doesn't bother to turn around; they are important, and the rest of the world is not. Simple, just the way it used to be.
He turns back to her and stares into her eyes, slowly walking forward and picking up the thing without ever breaking eye contact. It's a small thing, one she's seen before in that one's pockets. The moment he straightens, the thing glows and a square of blue light pops out. She tries to see his face through the letters (.relyT esoR si eman reH), but they block him out.
The song gets louder and for some reason she knows that she has to see his face, has to know his reaction to those words. She steps forward, reaching out a hand to do something, she doesn't know what, and the crunch of her shoes startles him into dropping the thing hiding his face from her.
She can see him now, and she doesn't like it. He feels something and she knows that it is bad and she knows that she should know what it is but she doesn't and it scares her but she doesn't know why and—
"Doctor, who is she? Who is Rose Tyler?" It is the red one, asking the question she didn't know she had. That one kept saying something about a rose. Did he mean this girl? Who is Rose Tyler?
She wants him to answer, needs to know who or what Rose Tyler is, why her name makes his eyes go red and steals his ability to talk. The song is getting louder and louder, worried and victorious and bursting with something she can't—won't—shouldn't—name. It hurts to think about the song, hurts to think about anything else. She can't think, she can't think, she can't think…
Black spots are dancing in front of her eyes. The scattered pieces of her consciousness are flaring and shouting and leaping about. Memories are flitting through her mind, too fast to see and too hot to touch. Words are repeating endlessly, You are nothing, You are worthless, You are the lowest of the low. Everything is exploding and flying and whirling and it hurts, it hurts so much!
A crack in the wall, golden light seeping through. Sleep, Rose Tyler. You are safe here.
000
A/n: This is confusing, this is weird, and I have no excuse.