**No description needed. We all remember this scene…**
Everything felt like it was in slow motion, as if the world had been thrown into limbo in a matter of seconds. Just a few, heart-stopping seconds. Because those seconds were the amount of time it took for Rose to leave his life for good and ever.
He liked to think that he could feel her through the white wall of the Torchwood building. He imagined that she was on the other side, as shocked and devastated as he felt right then. He even wondered if she was in the same position as him, one hand on the wall, and half of his face pressed into the cement like he wanted to sink into it. Or pass through it. Maybe a little of both. It should have been him, he thought. He should have been the one to fall. He should have tried to protect her better. He never should have let her stay. She was everything to him, and he had failed her when it mattered most.
But his restless mind drove him to drop his hand in defeat and turn away from the wall, hands in his pockets now that there was no one to hold them. He fiddled with some of the computers, but nothing happened. He hadn't really been expected anything. The walls were closed once again and he had won. Victorious at last.
If this was what victory felt like…no. This wasn't a victory. Maybe for Earth, and this universe, but not for him.
The Doctor didn't stop his feet as they carried him towards the exit. He had to get out of Torchwood before the authorities showed up and started asking questions. Because they would want him to go back into that room with the white wall and give them every detail, and that would be impossible in his current state. The Doctor mutely congratulated himself on not breaking down yet, but the crash was inevitable. He could feel the wall surrounding his grief splintering with each step. Wouldn't be long now…
He ran to the TARDIS as soon as he hit the ground level, bypassing the police cars and UNIT trucks without even a curious glance. The last part of his mind that was still sane heard someone calling his name, but he slammed the door of the police box closed with such a slam he made the windows rattle. He tripped over his feet in his haste to get back into the time vortex and away from the planet where everything had stopped.
Then he exploded.
The Doctor screamed at the top of his lungs. He cursed every god and every devil that had ever existed, even the ones that hadn't. He shouted at the TARDIS for not warning him, and kicked the console in anger when his ship tried to calm him with her melody. He ignored the pain in his foot and instead did the only thing he knew how to do: run. He ran through the halls of the TARDIS, not caring that the sentient ship was making it so that he was running in circles. He kept passing three rooms: his bedroom, Ro—her bedroom, and the library. The first was a place where he'd had panic attacks before and had no wish to relive the experience. The second was downright unthinkable, especially in his current state. Though his mind was decimated by the screams echoing in his own ears, he knew that he would never forgive himself if he destroyed the last remnant of Ro—her.
So on the next pass, the Doctor fled into the library.
He stopped in the doorway, his breath heavy and his mind spinning. He had to get her back. He had to. There must be some way to get into parallel worlds! The Doctor rushed to the nearest shelf and tore it apart. With some books he barely glanced at the title before tossing it over his shoulder. Others he looked at, grunted in approval, and tossed into a separate stack.
The Doctor continued to scavenge through his library's shelves until each and every book was picked clean. A vast majority were clumped against the walls, lying where they had been thrown only minutes previously. And others, the Doctor happened to notice, looked to have been torn or damaged in other ways. Had he done that? He must have. Those had been Rose's favorites, and they still had her scent in their pages. He couldn't tell: was that a curse or a blessing?
The Doctor turned away from his battered collection and stalked towards the tower of scientific textbooks and guides. All of them talked about space or time travel in one form or another, and were his best hope at trying to find something about parallel worlds. The TARDIS hummed in his ears again, but he threw up his mental barriers and began to read.
His mind was still so crazed that he could make no use of his time sense. He had no way to measure the passage of time except through the number of books he read. But the words were not telling him what he needed to know, and each book that didn't help him joined the discard pile behind him.
Traveling through space is a difficult task in of itself, but it must be said that such traveling can only take place in a single dimension. It is impossible to access…
No Time Lord has ever successfully traveled between dimensions since the barriers between worlds were established…
…not safe, unadvisable, and extremely unlikely to ever reach another universe…
…are advised not to attempt this…
…dangerous, unreliable…
…impossible…
"NO!" The Doctor shouted out in anger and glared at the book in his hand, the last one in his stack that had had a chance at telling him the answers. Exploring Space: a Cautionary Tale of the Next Dimension, it read in gold letters. How ironic. He went to throw it, but then he remembered going to Scotland with Rose, and being trapped by a werewolf. He had told her that books were the best weapon in the world, that they would solve all their problems. He told her so many things, that he would keep her safe, that nothing was impossible…
Simply throwing that book was too good for it, the Doctor decided. Instead, he grabbed at the spine and tore it down the middle, shredding it to bits and crying out in joy at the sight of its mangled cover and dislocated pages. By the time he actually hurled the book at the wall, the only thing left to make contact was half of its hard cover. The rest of the book was scattered around his feet.
But then the Doctor looked up, and he saw it. The Wall. It was here, in his library, just sitting there like it hadn't ruined his existence by taking away the one being in all of creation who had made him truly happy. Had it always been there? Yes, his mind answered him, it had, because there was one of the massive bookcases lying on the floor. Each case was tall enough to reach the ceiling, but in his mad rage he had managed to push it over. He had been reading on top of its cracked wood and had never even noticed.
The Wall was still there, mocking him, and the Doctor tripped over the bookcase in an effort to reach it. This time, he'd break it down. He'd tear it apart and yank Rose back to his side, consequences be damned. His throat was raw from screaming but he just couldn't stop, and though he could see his fist pounding against the white wall, and hear his nails scrape along its surface, he could feel nothing but the rage and adrenaline pounding through his system. He was babbling now, in every language he knew, and his words weren't making sense. One minute he was apologizing to her, and the next he was pleading with the Fates to let him have one more chance with her. One more adventure with Rose Tyler by his side. Just one.
How could the universe do this to him? After all he'd done for every planet and solar system and living creature out there? Was this his reward? To have Rose taken from him when he had been so close to telling her…
Suddenly thinking these thoughts wasn't enough.
"IT'S NOT FAIR!" He screamed to the wall, to the TARDIS, to the universe, to the woman he…loved now trapped a dimension away. Because now he felt the words rising up in his throat, ready to burst forth in a multitude of noise and emotion. But it was too late, she would never hear them, she would never know…never, not ever.
Somewhere in his madness the Doctor had lost the ability to hold himself up, and he had collapsed against the wall. His forehead rested against the hard cement, and his fist was up against the wall, gripping some invisible thing and holding on to it with all of his strength. He couldn't help but wonder if his fist was somehow clutching his last bits of sanity. Was he losing it? Had he finally cracked? Was this the end?
The tears didn't come soon enough, and when they did, they were loud and messy and filled with disgusting hiccups. He might have described his emotional release as pathetic, and useless, and completely un-Time Lord, but he didn't care. It was only then that the Doctor relinquished the hold on his mental walls and allowed the TARDIS to fill his broken mind with her reassuring hum.
"She's gone," he whispered, more to himself than anything. Then he said to the TARDIS, in a louder voice, "She's gone and I couldn't save her."
The ship's lights dimmed and he silently thanked her for that. It was easier to cry in the dark than out in the open.
"What do I do?" He whispered. But the TARDIS gave no reply. "What am I supposed to do now?" He repeated. "How can I just go back to how things were and not remember—" His breath hitched and he choked out a gasp. "Rassilon, am I pathetic. I couldn't even say three bloody words to her. And now I'll never have the chance."
Another hum, and he could hear the click of the library door opening. The TARDIS wanted him to leave.
"But…not yet." The Doctor struggled to his feet and put his back against the Wall. Oh, how he hated that Wall, but right now it felt like the closest connection he had to his lost companion. The companion who was far more than that. "Just a few minutes. Please."
But the ship thrummed in increasing volumes until the Doctor finally nodded and muttered, "Okay." He turned and glided his fingers along the cement until his hand finally fell away from the Wall. Without another word or sorrowful glance, the Doctor stumbled over the mess he had created and escaped the room.
He found himself back in the console room, and out of habit, he nearly said, "Where to next?" But he held his tongue just in time and bit back any more emotional outbursts. Then he realized that the TARDIS was still humming incessantly, and the Doctor happened to glance at the monitor. It showed the view from the outside: a star was sitting in in space. He could tell that it was near the end of its life, but had enough power to…
No. Could he? Oh, he could! The Doctor felt his mouth turn up in a fleeting smile, and he dashed around the console. Every flick of the switch increased the ship's hum, until he could practically feel the TARDIS' extra energy surging from the dying star and into its core. If he was right, in a few moment there would be just enough power to…
"Thank you," he told the TARDIS. And he pulled the lever.
**Please note that this is a missing scene and not an AU. I'm so, so sorry, but everything plays out as it normally would after this point. And yes, in case you are wondering, there will be a Part 2.**
ns 15.158.61.8da2
