Dear Doctor

by CKLizzy [Reviews - 3]

Printer Chapter or Story
  • Teen
  • None
  • Angst, Het, Hurt/Comfort, Romance

Author's Notes:
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Russell T. Davies, Julie Gardener and BBC. People who invented River Song and Reinette are not part of it.

Letter Five

As it had turned out, his visit on Plear 6 had been a very bad idea. Two big cities in the east had just started a civil war and his appearance had been thought of as some kind of what was on the Earth known as "Trojan Horse"; that he had been sent by the one party to infiltrate the other. He had been arrested as soon as he had left the TARDIS and it had taken him about three days to escape and find his ship. Mostly because his sonic had been lying on the jump seat the whole time.

Not long ago, the planet had been peaceful, with fewer problems than on most of the other planets. He hadn't been able to find out what exactly had happened; only his cellmates had made some comments, but without giving any real information.

When he had finally reached the TARDIS, his first action after sending the ship into the Vortex hadn't been taking a shower. Although his body was tired and sore, and his clothes dirty, there was something far more important.

Before he had escaped the prison he had been held in, one of the guards - the one who had later also helped him to flee - had given him an envelope. One that looked very familiar, although nothing was written on it. He had stored the letter in his pocket, for some reason not wanting to read it in the prison, with his cellmates around.

But now that he was back and alone, he finally allowed himself to see if the letter really was from the person he hoped it was. And as soon as he had opened the envelope and taken out the papers, he recognized the hand-writing of his Rose.

Dear Doctor,

Ten months of marriage. Ten months! And at least I can say that we've used this time to settle in into our life. As a married couple, as husband and wife with an apartment, with jobs, and all the little ups and downs those are so common. Well, almost.

Apart from some arguments about bad habits - mostly Julian's - occurring occasionally (means: barely; but it took me some work) we rather wonder about problems other couples out there have. But since nothing in our life is normal at all, although we try and pretend else, why should our problems?

Remembering our lives while traveling through time and space, remembering all those aliens and planets and history and future we've seen, makes outsiders of us, in some way. Every so often now we remember together; it has become some kind of ritual. Good old days. Makes it easier. And though you're still in my mind and heart, you don't possess it anymore. I've learned to move on, with the help of Julian. He understands my need to remember; he has this need, too.

So we think about the past and future we've seen; and those strange creatures we've encountered. Julian just recently told me about his - your - first moments after your last regeneration. The fear that I could leave, all those whirling facts that needed to be sorted and settled, and the sensation of the new body. Back then I accused you of being every possible evil alien I knew. I'm sorry I thought you might be a Slitheen - had you really wanted to answer that it wouldn't fit into this body? Maybe you should have, then I would have known it was you!

No, honestly; there are so many memories, but the moment you convinced me that it is really still you, when you reminded me of our very first meeting - I will never forget that. You know, it weren't your words; it were your eyes. I had never seen them before, and yet they were so familiar, and I felt like, for the blink of a second, I could look into your soul. I felt that those eyes of yours would always tell me the truth.

It is Julian's eyes that assure me that being here with him is right. That he is you, or a part of you, and that I can trust him. That I can love him. The hand I held so often might not be this body's, nor is it the body I've hugged and held so close so many times. But the soul it contains is the one of the man I once fell in love with.

And sometimes, just sometimes, I look into these eyes, so open and honest to me, and I see you. You and our past. And then I see Julian's love for me in his eyes, and I remember how often you had looked at me like that. And I know, although you never said it out loud, that you have loved me the whole time, from the very beginning.

May it be too late now; may it have been too late so long ago already; I want to thank you. Thank you for loving me. If only I had known it earlier. If only.

Love, Rose