The Dying Rose

by Bananaprincess [Reviews - 7]

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  • All Ages
  • None
  • Angst, Het

Author's Notes:
Random piece of rather teary fluff...

The woman lay there, in bed. She still looked about 25, but her hazel eyes betrayed her real age. She had seen so much, and now, she was confined to bed.

Her eyes looked calm, and peaceful, even though she knew that this was the end. She didn’t want to have her heart breaking another day. So she lay there, willing for the sweet release to come.

As she stared up at the pure ceiling, she thought about her life. All her family had come and gone, apart from her. She had never met anyone special, apart from him. And he was long gone.

Her heart singing a painful melody, she watched the candle burn slowly down the wick, flickering as it tried to hang on, to give light once more. She knew that when the candle burnt down, she would go too. But she wasn’t hanging on.

So she lay there, and stared at the candle. Three more seconds to go.

He had been so wonderful to her, joking, and laughing, never doubting her. And he had loved her too, she knew that, yet never said the words out loud. But she had, a long time ago.


Two more seconds to go. The candle was spluttering now, wanting more time.

Was he the same now, or had he changed his face, his personality? Or maybe he was truly gone, and she would see him once more.


One more second, and then she wouldn’t have to think anymore about him.

Was he lonely still? Or did he have someone else? For his sake, she hoped that he did. She didn’t care about if he loved someone else; she just hoped that he was happy again.


The candle went out, casting the room in instant darkness. She looked at the ceiling again, and saw a pale face, staring at her.

The face on the ceiling was framed by dark hair, or was it shadows? Its endless eyes were dark as well. Death.

She uttered her last words of this world. ‘Take me.’

And the death reached out a hand, making the darkness deeper than ever.

*

Far away, in a blue box, a man put a hand to his chest, and sighed, deeply. He felt her death, as if it were the death of one of his hearts.

He sat down in a chair, and watched the rhythmic pumping of his ship. Joy and happiness had departed this world. Life seemed meaningless again, as it had when Gallifrey was destroyed. So he sat, waiting for something, anything, to happen.

A cry came from the main lounge, and he rushed to see what was the matter.

His companion was standing there, staring at a blonde girl, who was lying on the floor, unconscious.

He carefully picked her up, and took her into the control room, waiting for her to wake up.

*

After many weeks, Rose Tyler opened her eyes, to see a familiar face, filled with joy, looking at her.

His dark eyes stared into her hazel ones, and she let out a little sigh.

‘Hello.’ he said, kissing her on the lips.