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She was alone. Skin weathered by the suns of many planets, wrinkled by time, age spots placed like constellations on her skin. She'd danced with the Doctor until she couldn't any longer, slowed by the creeks of her joints and the aches in her bones.
Rose Tyler was old now.
She'd felt small before, amongst the crowds that pushed and pulled like waves, but she'd never felt insignificant. She was alone because she was insignificant. She was just another person, another number, on a list of Soon-To-Be-Dead.
But once...once, she'd been special. She's danced amongst alien festivals, laughed with people she'd only known through history books, and had fallen in love amongst all the stars in the galaxy. Time and space had been at his fingertips, and his skin had been under hers.
Many people couldn't face death, couldn't face that it was the only permanent thing amongst life. Death would come calling for everyone, her gentle caress like a mothers as she took you into her embrace.
Death was final.
Death was lonely.
Rose Tyler was lonely.
She knew her time was limited. Each breath came harder than the last, her instincts fighting against her body. Her body knew what to do, she'd been told. Death was natural. Her body knew what to expect.
She did too.
No one was coming. No one was left.
She'd held many hands, watched as chests stopped breathing, watched as Death claimed her family, one by one.
John had been the first when she was forty seven. The Metacrisis had failed.
Tony was the last, five years ago.
Rose Tyler had been promised forever, but was left abandoned, and she was alone.
There was one point, in which she'd accepted it long ago, but as her breaths finally came into its certain end, panic had settled into her. She'd felt this helplessness only a few times before, when faced with uncertain circumstances. But this...this was Certainty.
A knock came at her door, and a nurse gently opened it.
"Mrs. Tyler," the nurse started. "You have a visitor."
A man stepped through the door, nodding at the nurse as she closed it. Slowly, carefully, their eyes met. Aged hazel met crystal blue.
A breath stuttered out of Rose.
She'd have a hand to hold.