The Doctor X Rose: Bitter Nostalgia

It's a Wonderful Life

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who or any of the characters. All rights belong to their owners.  

A/N: No idea where this came from. Was trying to write a chapter and then this happened, so it's now a one-shot. Kind of out of character for the Doctor. Sorry! I just really like seeing him hurt. Does that make me a bad person?

As we all know; read, vote, comment!

The Doctor was feeling nostalgic. This wasn't that uncommon. You are bound to feel this way when you've had ten different faces. Usually when he began to feeling like this, he simply go and have a grand adventure. That took his mind off his past. Why think about his past when he could go visit the past?

The Doctor didn't mind people thinking about the past or the future, unless they stopped living and got caught up in a different time; they stopped caring about the present. The Doctor didn't have the problem. The reason he couldn't bear to think about his lives too long was because eventually he come to...to that. The war. And then the memories came rushing back. The emotions. The images. The screams and the sickening smell of death.

Death.

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair and let out a shaky breath sitting up quickly. No, no, no. This wasn't supposed to be happening. Over 900 years of life and he had to think about that one moment. One brief moment of darkness in a sea of light.

Jaw clenched, hands tightened into tight fists, hearts racing as the images returned, rushing like a water freed from a dam. Suddenly, he relaxed, the tension gone. His head rolled down, chest heaving with silent sobs. Tears slid down his checks as he slowly shook his head. Was he shaking his head in denial or to shake his thoughts from these horrible reminiscent?

He ran his finger through his hair fiercely and he caused his head to jerk back. The tears were streaming heavier, yet still silently. His lungs were grasping for air, trying to calm himself.

He stood up, for he had previously been sitting a chair feet propped up on the console, but now he was standing by the console with his fist slammed into it. His emotions kept dancing between breaking down, crying, and a hot mass of anger and shame.

He rubbed his hands in his wet eyes. Maybe he was hoping that he could get rid of the images that were playing behind his eyes. He closed his eyes. No! He shouldn't see anything, darkness. He saw darkness, the darkness of war and the choice he had to make. How did he think he was allowed to damn all those timelords?

He blinked and kneaded his eyes harder. As if he was trying to wake up from a nightmare, the nightmare of his past. Yet he could not wake from his dream if that's what you wanted to call it. He was not asleep. The nightmare was there but there was no part when he awoke, fine and comfy.

It was because of this that the Doctor didn't notice Rose, until she was standing in front of him. Great, I'm losing it. I'm becoming like the Master. I'm imaging Rose is her to witness my fall. But Rose warm touch reassured him that she was real.

"Oh Doctor," she choked with a sob, "whatever it is, it's okay now." "It's not okay now! I'm okay now, but they, my race, aren't okay. THEY ARE GONE AND IT'S MY FAULT. IT'S NOT OKAY...it's not okay....it's not." The Doctor voice had risen to a scream but it slowly died down into a pitiful sob. He put his face into Rose's embrace. "Maybe it's not okay, Doctor. But that was one hard decision. And maybe you chose the wrong, maybe you didn't. But you are a hero."

"Don't say that. I'm no hero." He pulled away. "I'm a monster, honest." He looked at his hands, as if he could see the blood of millions on them. "Don't say that, Doctor." was Rose stern reply. The doctor continued to stare at his hand.