5A revival of something I wrote a little of a few years ago. I'm not entirely sure this 11th is perfectly represented by Matt Smith but if it works for you. This was probably written pre-11th.
Disclaimer: Not my genius, nothing here is mine, just a little artistic liberty no legal entanglements.
Please R and R!
Twists and Time
Reckoning
Why is the universe so messed up? This was just one of the many miserable things she pondered during those downward days. The days she prayed to see end yet couldn't bring herself to drive home that final nail. Why did it have to be like this? Nothing was the same, yet he expected her to blithely carry on regardless. It was like being stuck in a kind of excruciating limbo, bittersweet torture filled her days now, though not at the hands of some new species of alien they'd accidently offended by saying thank you, well not every day. No this was just some sick twist that fate was playing on her, sure that some higher being was having a good laugh at her expense, Rose scowled again. She was also going to give herself premature wrinkles doing that which pissed her off further.
The Doctor, there was the crux of everything. Disgusted that he continued to have such a huge effect upon her she tried desperately to think of something else, anything to rid her mind of the same monotonous depressing thoughts that spiralled out of control every single day now.
Why had she stayed again? She struggled now to find all those reasons she'd carefully catalogued when he had regenerated this time. Only able to find one reasonable excuse for hanging around.
She couldn't go back. Who the hell could go home after seeing what she'd seen? Knowing what was out there and having no clue what calamity was headed their way next? Not that she was especially eager to see the Earth in grave danger, again, but these days it wasn't so much an if something else happened, but rather when it would happen and what now? The offer from U.N.I.T. flashed into her mind then, she had options, and would have some say at least, not relegated to the side-lines with all the other pathetic creatures on the planet, hurtling helplessly close to another possible extinction.
So, there it was, the stark truth laid bare, she couldn't bear to go home, the lure of space and adventure and being there too much to leave behind, yet it meant putting up with his incredible ridiculousness over there. The 11th Doctor, or thereabouts? Who knew these days, it was far too confusing for her little ape mind to comprehend. The word ape briefly making her smile. The promise of chips and all that running. Fantastic.
But nothing is meant to last forever, and for better or worse Rose had stayed, a companion in the loosest most detached sense you could imagine. And nothing was the same.
Regeneration was always going to be difficult. Things had changed when he'd changed that first time, the tenth was not him, but she'd fallen for him again. In spite of herself, she had fallen and he in turn had let himself have her. Allowed himself the love and joy that he hadn't been able to previously; the guilt of war too much to bear.
But it was all gone. She hadn't really thought it was possible, or she had, in the darkest recesses, the fears that she kept locked away, but not that she would see it. Had thought that first regeneration she had witnessed had been a terrible fluke, not to be repeated for a very long time. Not to be. It really wasn't, the 11th was different. He might be the Doctor by name, but he wasn't her Doctor. He had no love for her, friendship and a vague fondness which Rose found incredibly hurtful and quite unbelievable considering the things they had got up to, how close they had been once upon a time…
She shivered even now at the memory, this Doctor, the all-knowing arse, looked up frowning; he still had that disturbing ability to know what she was thinking about, just as him of old, and he sighed, shook his head slightly and carried on at the console as if nothing had happened. He had of course explained regeneration again afterwards, that he changed, some things changed more than others. And apparently this one was one of those times.
They didn't chat like before, didn't hold hands as before, Rose almost missed that the most of everything. Feeling connected to him, holding his hand had become a symbol of them together, travelling through time and space, just them, alone against the universe and it had given her, them both, that necessary connection to life, to each other, alongside the intimate side of their relationship, the hands remained together at every possible moment. Necessary or not.
But now it didn't happen, and in all honesty, she didn't want it to. There was nothing there, holding hands was pointless, like ignoring or delaying the inevitable.
But she stayed with him anyway, too afraid of what might happen otherwise, not able to go back to Earth, to the humdrum existence she had left behind, how many years ago was it now…seven? It seemed longer, maybe it was.
The bang and shudder that resounded around them was the first real threat they'd found in weeks. Rose shouldn't have felt such a thrill, but this situation did nothing if not make her an enthusiastic voyeur of risk and terror. They'd hit an inter-dimensional temporal hole apparently and ended up somewhere else. He didn't know where, and that mildly surprised him. It also scared her more than she would have thought, but then her trust in this Doctor was seriously dampened.
He stumbles into the explanation as usual. And someone else he didn't expect. Another TARDIS was involved. At first, he had thought he'd crossed his own timeline again, several signs pointed to that, but the incredible crash and quake that had run through the ship indicated otherwise.
So, he departed through those blue doors, to seek out assistance from the timelord out there. She didn't know if she could handle seeing and getting to know yet another him, IF it was him at all, Rose still sceptical of his status as the last. It was a helpful distraction for but a minute, and she tried not to consider it being another him and the inevitable, that they would leave, and she would have to say goodbye, again. For some reason the notion that it could be numbers nine or ten hadn't fully registered. Perhaps she hadn't wanted to get her hopes up.
She hadn't been prepared.