-1If You Can Still Dream
Rose struggled to push her key into the door of her flat, a bag of groceries balanced on her hip. Finally finding the hole, she slid it into the lock, and pushed the door open and stepped inside.
She flicked on the light in the kitchen and quickly put the groceries away, promising herself that she'd put them in proper order the next morning. For now though, she was exhausted and her only thought was of her warm bed.
She collapsed onto the comforter and shifted up until her head hit her pillow. She really had to stop working such late nights. It crossed her mind that she should wash her face to remove her makeup, but by then she was already drifting off.
Suddenly she was surrounded by a blinding white light. There was a slight buzzing noise that gradually died down to a gentle hum. Before her things seemed to go out of phase, then blinked back to normal(or as normal as empty white space could be), save for one change. Standing not five feet from her was the Doctor.
Then, Rose's mind was racing. This was a dream. Another message. She had to wake up and go. But go where? To Norway again? She stood and waited. Waited for the moment when everything would click into place like last time. When she would know exactly when and how and where.
The Doctor simply stood and smiled sadly at her.
"'Fraid it's not like that this time."
Rose did her best to not look heartbroken, silently laughing at herself for trying to not worry her own dream. Across from her he smiled reassuringly.
"Like I told you, I've sealed up the last crack. This is the best I can do."
Rose nodded, tears in her eyes. "How do I know this is real? That it isn't just a dream-dream."
The Doctor stepped forward and reached up to cup her cheek. She leaned into his hand, surprised by the realism and familiary of his touch. He felt warm; solid; real. She closed her eyes and brought her hand up to hold his against her, a desperate move to keep him with her.
"I can't stay for long." He told her finally.
"It's late. Your alarm is about to go off."
Panic set in for Rose. She looked around frantically for some way to reach out and flick the alarm off. All around her was nothing but empty whiteness and light.
She turned to look at him, his face serious. Her lip trembled as she nodded for him to say what he came to say.
"Have a good life. Just do that for me."
The familiarity of his words struck her and she felt tears stinging at her eyes, the pain real enough that she knew tears must be rolling onto her pillow at that moment.
She wanted to ask him how. How could she move on to the fantastic life he wanted for her if he wasn't there. How anything could compare to the life she'd had with him. How he thought there could possibly be a 'good life' after that.
Instead she just cried. He brought his hand to her cheek again and rubbed his thumb across to wipe the tears away.
"Make me proud." He told her. "I'll be thinking of you. I want you to know that."
She closed her eyes and stepped forward to lean against him but felt nothing. She could hear his voice but refused to open her eyes.
"You can still see me now and then. Even if it's just like this."
The brightness faded to dark and she was laying in her bed at home, dried tears on her cheeks as she expected.
Swallowing against the lump in her throat, she shoved her blankets off and hit snooze on her alarm. She considered trying to fall back asleep but knew that even if she did it would serve no purpose.
She sleepily made her way across her room to her bureau to look herself over in the mirror. Her hair was a mess. Her eyes were red and puffy. But she still couldn't help smiling at one thing. The smudge of smeared mascara that ran across her cheek, the size of a thumb traced across skin.
She sighed lightly, feeling a rush of contentment that she hadn't felt in a long time. Then she headed into the kitchen to rearrange her groceries and get on with her fantastic life. And when she saw him again, she was certain he'd be proud.