itinere | Open | Don't think I've ever felt so sad

Sometimes people described silence as being so loud that it could be cut with a knife, and while sometimes the Doctor preferred silence, at this moment, he realized that this silence was deafening. A space that used to be filled with laughter and chatter from himself and his good friend Donna was now quiet, empty, and if he was being honest, a little sad.

He looked around the empty console room, pausing for a moment before he decided that nothing would be accomplished by leaving the TARDIS parked here outside his best friend's house. Pulling dials and flipping levers, he set the TARDIS into motion, and in just a short time, he eased the levers back into place and landed the ship. The destination wasn't so important now, not in comparison to getting away, to distracting himself, and to beginning the process of picking up the pieces.

But when he placed his hand on the TARDIS door's handle and opened said doors, the sight in front of him was not the one he envisioned. There was nothing familiar about it, and although he thought briefly about going back inside the TARDIS and taking off again, he couldn't ignore the pinpricks of curiosity that were already asserting themselves.

Those pinpricks normally were like resounding gongs drowning everything else out, but the Doctor was not in the mood to bound around excitedly as he explored a new place. His clothes were still soaked from the atmospheric disturbance that was coating Chiswick and other parts of the world, and he couldn't banish from his mind the image of Donna chattering away on her phone, completely oblivious of his presence and unconcerned by the fact that he was about to leave her behind forever.

Right now, he was a very sad, very bedraggled sort of explorer, but he still was an explorer nonetheless. Any distraction was welcome, and as he slowly began his exploration, he supposed that this fit that description. Of course, he wasn't all sadness and dark clouds; this place was interesting enough, after all, so if someone happened along at just the right moment, they might catch sight of the Doctor peering curiously at some local landmark or another, as if the mantle of sadness had temporarily lifted off his shoulders.

But it was never gone for long, and that look of regret and guilt was quick to slip back in.

[ ooc: Open post for Ten's intro! If your character catches him at just the right moment, he might even be in a halfway cheerful mood. Otherwise, he'll be in a bit of a funk for a little while. ]

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Rose has been stuck in Itinere for a few weeks and she's none too happy about it. The doors have locked and she's slowly growing frantic to get back to the Doctor. The only thing that comforts her is that every other time she's gone back through the door, it's been as if no time has passed. She can only hope that this weeks have been mere seconds to him. She's flat out moping about the town today, having tried the doors earlier then gone to get herself a cup of tea to mope into. She's on her way toward the doors again to see if she can open them when she sees him and she gets those familiar butterflies in her belly, that feeling of a fizzy drink fizzing over that she gets every time she sees him no matter how many times she's seen him.

There's really no other possible reaction to a swath of space between her and the Doctor but for her to cross it as quickly as she can to slam into him with a hug. "Doctor!" she yells out in warning and half way there it occurs to her that if he's here then he's probably stuck just like here, but there is no one in the universe she'd rather be stuck with than him so it matters little.

She'll simply have to start thinking of ways to occupy both of their times now.

The Doctor's not moping so much as he is mourning the loss of his best friend while also trying to get his bearings in a place he's never seen before. It does feel as though he's had too many bad things heaped on him in too short a time, but he also knows there's no point in dwelling on things that can't be changed.

It's when he turns a corner that he catches a brief glimpse of a blonde girl, and for a second, Rose's image flashes into his mind's eye. But it's impossible for her to be here, or anywhere other than that parallel world, because the walls of the universe have closed forever. But then she starts calling out his name, and that's when he feels his hearts leap in spite of what he knows to be true. This could be an illusion, or a trick to get him, but he can't quite stifle the hope that somehow, Rose is actually here.

She's closing on on him, and rather than wait, he lurches into a run, because he'd rather look like a fool chasing after an illusion than ignore what could be all his hopes and wishes coming true. "Rose!" Her name bursts out before he's really aware that he's saying anything, but he can't and won't stop himself until the distance between them has closed.

Rose isn't that far yet. She doesn't know about Donna. She doesn't know about Bad Wolf Bay or so many other things. She knows that it's her and the Doctor travelling through space and time; she knows that she's going to be with him forever. She knows that there's nothing she loves more than travelling with him and there never will be.

Rose is actually here. She's not an illusion and as far as she's aware, she's not a trick either. Her smile gets impossibly wider, a laugh bubbling out from between her teeth when he starts running toward her and calls her name then his arms are around her and her arms are about his neck. She buries her face in his shoulder, taking a deep breath of that very particular scent he has. It doesn't matter that it's only been a few weeks for her:

She's missed this.

She might not know everything that's happened, but he does, and it's all replaying itself in his mind. Sometimes he wonders how everything could have gone so wrong, because he never meant for her to get caught up with the Daleks as they were being pulled into the Void. If he'd only been faster, or thought it through to completion, maybe he could have foreseen the danger. But regardless, it can't be changed now, and if she doesn't know the things he does, then he won't be telling her about them, not ever.

When they finally connect and she presses her face into his shoulder, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her in and holding her close, wishing that he'd never have to let her go again.

He's missed her, more than he can put into words.

Oh Doctor. She wouldn't want you to carry that around on your shoulders by yourself. She would rather help him deal with it rather than not know.

She just hugs him tighter. Despite the fact that she just saw him a few weeks ago, it seems like longer and she's aware she might be getting that from him. She knows enough about this place to know that sometimes people arrive from other times. He doesn't have to let her go, not now. She doesn't care that he's soaking wet. She lifts one hand and runs it down through his hair, along the back of his neck, resting at his shoulders again.

"I"m here, Doctor. S'okay now." Because they seem like words he needs to hear. The way that he's missed her is obvious in the way that he holds onto her.

He doesn't want her to have to carry that knowledge around either, and he certainly doesn't want his worst nightmare to come true: that she might hate him for not saving her.

"I'm sorry, I'm getting you wet, aren't I?" He looks at her as if he's only just realizing this. "That's nice of me." But when she runs her hand through his hair, a shiver runs up his spine and he almost forgets about how inconsiderate he's being.

"It's just- I've missed you, Rose. And I'm glad that you're here." Even if she shouldn't be, and can't be, because he knows what happens to her. And now he's wondering how he's ever going to be able to say goodbye to her again, when they inevitably have to part ways.

She could never hate him. Even when he fails to save her, even when he leaves her on a beach in Norway (twice). She loves him far too much to ever hate him and he's changed her life so entirely and in so many wonderful ways.

"Yeah. You're a bit of a pain that way," she teases him, clearly not meaning it because she doesn't pull away from him, nor does she miss that shiver.

When he says he's missed her, she hugs him tightly again, holding onto him. "I'm glad I'm here too," she tells him, curiosity and concern in her voice. "Come on. Let's go back in the TARDIS, yeah? We can both get out of these wet clothes, have some tea. Maybe make a fire."

And possibly she'll get him to talk about what's going on, or at least she'll fill him in on the place he's landed.

Well, even if she doesn't hate him, he has enough thoughts on that subject to make up for it. He's supposed to save people, to help them, not ruin their lives forever.

"A bit? That's being a little kind, isn't it?" He teases right back, because even though people have called him a pain before, and not just a bit of one, he's enjoying this exchange between them.

"I'd like that, and of course, the TARDIS will be happy to see you too." She belonged there, and when she left, that hole representing her presence on the TARDIS never quite got filled in. Without a second's thought, he reaches for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, a wide grin coming to his face. It's like old times, even if those exact moments won't ever happen again.

She could lecture him on that. She's got some strong words about how he 'ruined' her life. He won't enjoy them. She is Jackie Tyler's daughter after all.

"IT is one of my better qualities," she teases back, enjoying the exchange just as much as she thinks that he knows her well enough to know that she doesn't think he's a pain, and even when she does, she still loves him.

"I've missed her too," she gushes, almost as much fondness in her voice for the TARDIS as she has for the Doctor. When he reaches for her hand, she reaches for his as well. She's practically vibrating with excitement as they step through those doors.

Open | Don't think I've ever felt so sad

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