A/N: Disclaimer: I disclaim everything. Literally, everything…except my DW poster, can I keep that please? And my figurines. And my sonic. And my posters. And the mug that I know ZK's got me for Christmas. And my TARDIS money box. And all my DWMs. And my K9. And my books. And my CDs. And…you get the picture.
Hmm, now this is a strange one. This is one of those ones where I think up something one boring science lesson, develop over the day then promptly disregard it for a while before I decide to write something, and now I'm posting with the knowledge at some point I'll have to write some more. That was how the Rambles started, anyway. Great writer's technique. So much PLANNING!
Chapter 1 – Murder On The Powell Estate
She didn't know what had quite started the argument but knowing them it was probably something extremely petty. The last argument they had had been about the colour tea cosies looked best as, and before that it had been why the Sonic Screwdriver beamed a blue light when it could have as easily have been pink or fluorescent orange.
But now she had no idea what started it this time, but next thing she knew they were yelling across Jackie's flat at each other screaming that the other had no sense in colour co-ordination. All their arguments seemed to be about colours, anyhow.
Jackie had been trying to calm them both out of their 'tiff', but failing dismally. Next thing Rose knew the Doctor had leapt over the sofa in a single stride and was going straight to the front door, muttering to himself as he went. It was unusual they'd argue but anything they did argue over would be so minor it would be forgotten by the next morning.
It wasn't her fault if he failed to see the funny side of it, so she yelled, "I don't care if you die!"and just for effect, "and not regenerate!!!"
Because that was the funny thing.
The Doctor was still muttering to himself as he slammed the door behind him, shoving his hands into his pockets and walking towards the stairs to the TARDIS below. He knew he would spend most of the night moping about it alone in the TARDIS before realising what a trivial matter he'd got himself worked up over, then run out of the TARDIS to Jackie's flat at 5:00am in the morning to wake Rose up and apologise, give her a hug and spend the rest of their time together talking until Jackie woke up to which they would bid their farewells and disappear off into the sunset. Well, that was what had happened last time anyway.
He was so absorbed in his thoughts he never even registered the presence moving towards him on his left, but next thing he knew he'd walked straight into another person.
He didn't look up, just murmured a quiet apology and carried on walking. He didn't hear the sound of a gun being loaded behind him. He didn't feel the sudden cold rush of air blow eerily across his face, or the sudden feeling of his own mortality screaming for him to dive for cover…
All he felt was the blackness through his mind as his back surged with agony, and he silently collapsed to the ground.
"He's a man and you're a woman sweetheart, you're bound to go off the rails somewhere…"
Rose sighed, dropping down onto the sofa dejectedly staring at the floor.
"And ya always make it up, 'e'll come wanderin' in soon enough beggin' forgiveness, you mark my words."
She nodded, knowing it was just mild. They were inseparable best friends and nothing as trivial as a mild dispute over colour co-ordination was going to break them up. The only possible thing in the universe that could break them up was actually either her dying or him dying and not regenerating.
She laughed to herself, plaguing over the impossibility of this thought before she heard it.
Six gunshots one after the other rang out in some kind of beat, and seconds later the sound of something heavy hitting the floor rang out.
Rose's heart caught in her throat.
Then she was moving, faster than the speed of light as she threw open the door and bounded out into the evening air, eyes frantically searching for him. She'd never stopped to think maybe it had been on the street below – besides, why would anyone want to kill the Doctor?
…Wait. No, What was she thinking?Even her mother wanted to kill the Doctor. Probably most of the imprisoned species in the entire Universe wanted to kill the Doctor. After all, he wasthe one who put them there.
So frantic in her rush she almost tripped over the bundle lying on the floor and she stumbled in her run, turning to see what had caught beneath her feet.
And turned away again.
It wasn't until the third time she checked the dead body did she really begin to take in that it was the Doctor, and he'd been shot six times in the back.
She couldn't even speak as she dropped to her knees next to him, not wanting to believe her eyes. This was a nightmare. This wasn't real. Please let her wake up…please…
But it seemed the nightmare was never going to end as her mum came tumbling out the doorway behind her, her screaming lost in the mixed thoughts rushing through Rose's head. She tentively reached down to one of the bloody bullet marks in his back and dared to touch it, trying to prove it was just a hallucination.
However, it was real. Awfully, horribly real.
The grief gripped her tightly and squeezed the life out of her as her wet eyes traced up his body to his face. Deep brown eyes stared lifelessly at the balcony wall, face expressionless with his mouth hanging open in a silent scream. He'd obviously been caught by surprise. She lifted two fingers and rested them on his neck – no pulse.
"No!" she choked, a tear dropping from her cheek to his lifeless face and running down to the balcony ground. "Regenerate!" she begged, "why aren't youregenerating?!"
Lights were on around them now, nearby people flooding out of their flats in dressing gowns to see what the commotion was all about. Several gasped. Others started to scream in alarm as more and more lights flickered down the balcony flats.
Rose sobbed uncontrollably, feeling her mum's arms wrap supportively around her as she reached up with two shaking fingers to his eyelids, drawing them closed. She couldn't bear to see those enticing brown eyes, once full of infinite energy and life now so dead and empty. She closed his jaw next, making him look as though he was just asleep.
Minutes passed on the balcony, Rose waiting still and silent for him to regenerate. She waited. And waited. And waited. By the time the paramedics had confirmed his death, zipped him up in a body bag and taken him away on the ambulance – she was still waiting.
A/N: Hmm, now that's a mind boggler.