I fancied writing a brand new Eleven/Rose story. This one should end up a nice length, depending on how popular it is :)
It was entirely unlike the Doctor to go back to something. He was well aware that he had to keep moving forward, to avoid looking back. That was a given. Rose Tyler, however, was an exception to the rule.
Sometimes he simply stood in the doorway of her old bedroom, something he hadn't quite been able to delete from the TARDIS hard drive. He knew full well the old ship wouldn't have let him, anyway. Other times, he sat at the kitchen table and he stared at the empty seat opposite him, and he pretended she was there, looking back at him, quite awkwardly, but smiling. He wondered why he had never spent every day with Rose like he should have- loving her, holding her, and being there for her, properly. Every time he had chance to think about her he cursed it.
Amy and Rory had tried challenging him about his moods. Rory had given up more easily, but Amy hadn't. She had pressed and pressed until the Time Lord had shouted her down, which seemed the only way to reign in the fiery girl when she stepped too far over the line. She would not let it be though, and it was on one particular day when she had taken it upon herself to change everything.
The Doctor was in the TARDIS console room, a place he could always think quite easily and for quite long periods of time. He wandered around the console itself, pushing the occasional button as he thought about her again. Thought about Rose. Why was it that the new married couple in the TARDIS had brought back so many old thoughts, and with such fury? He shook his head, and thought about other things, reminded himself that there was a circuit that needed soldering underneath the control panel.
He swung himself under the walkway so he was amongst loose wiring, and relatively well hidden, and there, he pulled out his sonic and flicked it open.
The sonic jumped out of the Doctor's hand and went skidding across the floor as the Time Lord jerked in surprise. Amy appeared from the stairwell just above, slipping down to the Doctor's level and marching towards him. "You can't hide from me."
"Hide?" Repeated the Doctor, and he took a step back. "I wasn't hiding." He wasn't hiding consciously, but he suspected that deep down, he was. Amy took a step forward.
"Oh c'mon Doctor, I know you. I know you were hiding. Now," she reached out and took his shoulders so that she could manoeuvre him into the swing hanging just behind her, "tell me what's wrong."
The Doctor thudded down into the seat which swung back and forth ever so slightly, and he looked up at her, clenching his fists nervously. Amy stared back down at him, smiling triumphantly. The Doctor cursed her perseverance. She had well and truly trapped him, and he knew she wouldn't let him leave without hearing some kind of traumatic story...
"I'm fine." He replied, and he winced at how much of a liar he sounded. "I'm always...Fine."
"I don't believe that for a second. Budge over." She went and sat next to him, squeezing into the smallest place possible by him on the swing. They were crushed together like peas in a pod. The Doctor felt awkward, so he shifted uncomfortably. Amy ignored him. "You space out all the time and look off into the distance, all broody. When me and Rory are being lovey dovey you watch us like we just spat in your face sometimes-" She paused. " And I know why."
The Doctor looked at her slowly.
"I don't know what you mean."
"Yes you do." Replied the girl grandly, and then she looked at him firmly, eyes dark. She lowered her voice then, and placed a hand on his. "You lost someone."
The Doctor, while taken aback, wasn't about to admit she was right so easily.
"And what would make you think that?" He stood up and went to retrieve the sonic from the floor, while Amy watched him from the swing.
"I've lost Rory before, I've lost him twice, I know how it feels, and I know it's how you're feeling because you have that same look on your face. What was her name?"
The Doctor had his back to her, and it took some moments for him to finally say it.
"Rose." He cleared his throat. "Her name was Rose."
And then he slowly walked back to the swing, sat down beside Amy, and told her everything. He told her about the basement, and the word 'run', he told her about the Bad Wolf and he told her about the Daleks and the Cybermen, and the lever that went to 'offline'. He explained how he had just been an image on the beach, that Rose couldn't touch him, and he reminisced on the disappearing stars and the man he had left her with.
And he told Amy, in the finest detail he could have, because he never had expressed it properly, he told her that he had loved Rose Tyler with every inch of his being, that he ached for her when she had gone, and he still ached for her now. He had never told her this, he said, and Amy surprisingly understood, nodding and not saying a word, just listening.
When all was said and done, and the Doctor had spilled his soul and described his hopeless longing for the human shop girl, Amy had stood up, and faced the Time Lord with eyes ablaze with hope, and a plan of questionable sanity and possibility.
"Let's go get her."