Summary - He closed his eyes, holding back the sting and the lump in his throat. Though he was miles away, so far away underneath the surface, he could see her face, imprinted on his eyelids like she was part of him. D/R post-IP and SP.
He glanced down into the darkness of the Pit. That voice, niggling in the back of his mind was now an incessant susurrus, begging him, taunting him, pleading with him, ordering him to go down. Just a bit further.
Making up his mind, he glanced up instinctively as he replied to Ida, imagining her stood at the top, looking down while he looked up. Though he was the Doctor and had no need of it, the thought comforted him. Ida was there, and then another ten miles further up was Rose.
"If you talk to Rose-" His hands stopped from where they were fiddling with the climbing clip.
Rose. What could he tell her?
Tell her what?
Look after yourself.
See you later.
He cleared his throat, the words sticking to the back of it.
"Tell her –"
Don't forget me.
I love you.
He closed his eyes, holding back the sting and the lump in his throat. Though he was miles away, so far away underneath the surface, he could see her face, imprinted on his eyelids like she was part of him.
But of course she was part of him – she was Rose. His Rose. Her deep, emotional eyes – caring, angry, worried, scared, loving. Her soft hair that tickled his nose when he hugged her. Her spirit that kept her bright and beautiful beside him every day. All his Rose.
He opened his eyes again, wishing that the glass wasn't there so he could wipe away the drops of moisture lingering around his eyelashes. The Doctor smiled to himself dryly at his own reticence and looked back up to Ida.
"Oh, she already knows."
And he hoped she did. As he dropped down into the abyss, he closed his eyes, let his arms fall out, and pictured her face.