Hey, guys! In case anyone is interested, I wrote this while listening to "My Immortal" by Evanesence. It's a beautiful song, and there's nothing bad in it. It 's great to write sad stuff to. Just thought I'd let you guys know.

God bless and have a great day (or night)!

Writing Prompt #5: Sick

Characters: 10th Doctor, Rose, mentions of Martha and Donna

Shippings: implied 10/Rose

Genre: hurt/loss/angst

Rating: K

Could someone help? Could anyone hear? There was nothing, not anymore. The universe began to fade and crack around him.

White walls haunted his dreams. Every night, he'd wake, thrashing, screaming, silent tears leaving stains on his cheeks. It should've been him. He should've thrown himself into the void; the coward.

They all died…and the coward survived.

How could he move on? How could humans take this sort of pain in their short lives? He was filled to bursting; how could time fix him?

The real Doctor, the proper Doctor, he wouldn't lie there. He'd save us.

He left her room untouched. He didn't bear to open the door, to look at her belongings. The shirt had been thrown in after Donna had left the TARDIS. He slammed the door, shaking the whole hallway. His mouth was closed and tight; silence emanated from his being. Even the familiar groan of the TARDIS engine seemed more like a song of mourning now.

Rose, Rose. She who saved the lost child,

She who destroyed the great enemy,

She who brought hope and healing to the wounded, the desperate.

She who shed light on the darkest of hearts,

She who didn't shy in the face of destruction,

She who warded off the oncoming storm;

A flower sprouting in a desolate waste,

Bringing beauty to the barren nothingness.

The hero to a victorious coward.

They would ask. Martha asked, searching his face for some sign. Donna asked, probing him accusingly, then questioning fondly. He never said more than what was necessary. Talking only made it hurt. Burying it burned, but what could he do? Better to suffer alone than to tear the world up with all of his misery.

"Two universes would collapse."

She grinned in spite of herself. "So?"

So? Why not? His hand would hover over the switches at night, when sleep wouldn't come (or when he didn't want to face the dark behind closed eyelids; a dark without stars). Every time, he would hold back. If not for the sake of the universe, if not for the sake of unforgiving fate, if not for the sake of a slightly cleared conscience, it was for the sake of the other person on the ship with him. Their life was cradled in his hands, just like Rose before them. In a way, it was like a legacy. It was something he could do in her name, something to help him carry on.

She wouldn't want him to stay like this, he knew. Wouldn't want him to teeter on the brink of death and insanity, simply because he could never see her again.

Donna had seen what the insanity could do to him; what could happen when he allowed anger and despair to engulf him. Doused with water, flames flickering around his feet, his face an unreadable mask, hiding a void of unending cold and darkness.

Rose.

The name that had kept him fighting. The name that had kept him pure. Now he would stumble along as best as he could, trying to find his own way. But like a ship sailing away from the lighthouse and into the waters of the storm, it got harder and harder to remember the light.

Doctor? What are you doing up?

He scrubbed his worn face with his hands. He had fallen asleep on the couch next to the TARDIS consul. His mallet had fallen to the floor, wires and bits of metal littered the ground.

Another nightmare?

He stood up, and she walked over to him, rubbing the drowsiness from her own eyes-

He slammed a switch on the TARDIS, sending a brief stab of pain up his arm. The ship jerked.

Hold steady! She yelled, nearly falling over. He reached out his hand to grab her, hold her up on her feet-

His hand gripped the cold, unyielding metal of the banister. The TARDIS rocked back and forth, the engine wheezed.

She steadied herself against the couch, beaming. She began laughing, and he grinned before he also began chuckling.

Gritting his teeth, he ran around to the consul screen. He began pushing buttons, the Gallifreyan words spinning and twirling faster than what he could read.

She peered over his shoulder, leaning up against him.

"Where to?" she asked, her voice mounting with excitement. She didn't sound tired at all, despite the fact that it was the middle of the night.

She reached out for his hand, wrapping it securely in hers. He looked right into her greenish-brown eyes.

"Anywhere," he whispered.

"Anywhere," he muttered, staring at his empty, clenched fist. He glanced back at the controls; reaching forward, he pushed some more buttons, trying to ignore the lump in his throat, his burning eyes.

"Anywhere but you."

Looking back on this, it seemed sort of rambly. Like, there were a bunch of little one-shots that I rolled up into one. They don't seem to be following any sort of pattern. *shrugs*. Oh, well. Hope you guys enjoy it anyway.

Sometimes I wonder why I even liked this show in the first place. It's such a sad show, but it's so beautiful and wonderful at the same time. There are such powerful messages behind the show that I haven't seen in many other shows or movies.

Anyhoo, enjoy the angst. Rose/Doctor is my favorite shipping.

EDIT: I MADE ROSE'S EYES THE WRONG COLOR. DON'T WORRY; I FIXED IT.