Once again hello and please review.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

'Only love is like an arrow to your heart;

The more you try to take it out, the more pain and blood you get'--

Oscar Wilde

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As for my sister he still visits her sometimes. I wonder if one day he might forgive her but there she is can you see? He trapped her in a mirror. Every mirror. If ever you look at your reflection and see something move behind you that's her. That's always her.

Staring out from my imprisonment I see the same scenery every day of every year, always. The same chairs and drapes and desk. Except for once a year of every year when he visits me. I've come to look forward to his little visits as they break me from the monotony of my endless existence.

We wanted to live forever. So the Doctor made sure that we did.

He always only visited me once so I was taken aback when he came to me a second time in one year. He seemed distracted as he gazed at me but like every time he sees me his eyes soften when they take in my appearance. He is far too soft when it comes to dealing with his enemies but somehow I cannot blame him. Indeed, I'm starting to find it endearing in a way. Just like all his other companions I suppose. The only difference is I can't leave him.

I can never leave him.

They find me sometimes you know. His companions. But they never see me; they just stumble into the room where I live and leave quickly afterwards. They feel my gaze, perhaps, and it disconcerts them subconsciously. Left on my own for so long my mind wanders. Have I gone insane? Perhaps, but there is more time to come and I will suffer through it. Is it better to live forever or die quickly? I no longer know.

Of all things though I do have the appearance of a little girl which is perhaps why he keeps me closer than the others of my family. He's pacing back and forth in front of my mirror now but I say nothing. Patience is something I will have to learn and he will tell what is weighing so heavily on his mind when he is ready.

He stops suddenly and stares into my mirror.

"I want to tell her. I wanted to tell her but I never got the chance. Why? Why?"

He stares up at me but I have no answer for his question.

He runs his hands through his hair, frustrated, and grabs it.

" She's gone you know," he says, resuming his pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth. " She left and I never--I never told her."

" You know I don't think I even really realized how much I had come to care for her."

He stops again and gazes at me desperately. My own gaze is questioning and he looks away and takes a deep breath. " It's funny that I should dream of her so often now when she's gone. Not that I didn't dream of her before but…," he trails off and shakes his head. Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his brown coat he turns on his heel and walks out of the room, closing the door gently behind him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The third time he visited me wasn't such a surprise. Because I knew that whatever had bothered him so wasn't gone by any accounts. This time he doesn't walk about but stands, quite still, in front of me. He's without his usual brown coat or pinstriped jacket and his white dress shirt is drenched from rain, his hair dripping from it. His head is bowed and I can't see his expression but his voice is a sad whisper as he addresses me. " I had another chance, can you believe that," he says, laughing slightly, "I had another chance but I couldn't tell her and instead sent her away with him. Can you believe that?"

He gazes up at me and I can see the tears streaking down his face as he smiles at me.

" Strange, isn't it, that I could hate myself as another person entirely."

He's no longer looking me in the eyes but instead stares at my mirror as though lost in thought, the tears still streaming steadily down his cheeks. "Rose," he whispers. Turning away from me again he leaves the room just as silently as before.

She is lucky, I should think, his Rose.

Because though many had felt and seen the rage of a time lord few had ever experienced the love of one.

________________________________________________________________________

I was watching Family of Blood when the idea for this popped in my head. I did love the narration at the end of the episode. The rage of a time lord is awesome but even more so when he's calm and collected. Please review. If you do my next story My Perfect Rose will be up much more quickly. I'm almost done with it. ;) Please, please review. Please?

Song I was listening to: I Write Sins Not Tragedies by Panic at the Disco.