Keeps Her Fighting- A Doctor Who Fanfic

[nothing_rhymes_with_ianto]

So, my QAF story inspiration has gone into hibernation while I finish watching all the seasons of Doctor Who and Torchwood. So here, for anyone who's also a fan, have really short little Doctor Who fanfic about Rose. (I am already a hardcore Doctor/Rose shipper)
 

Sometimes Rose thought it was a good thing that the Doctor hadn't finished his sentence that horrible day on the beach. Because she knew that if he had said it, if he had confirmed aloud what she knew in her heart, she would have broken.

Rose knew that if the Doctor had said those words, and disappeared, she would have been left wondering. She would have been hopeless, stranded, wondering forever how it could have been, had either of them admitted their feelings earlier. Because she looked back, remembered every moment with him, and she could feel his love for her, and she knew her love for him.

She had fallen in love with the Doctor that first night, the moment he grabbed her out of the air in that sewer and held her steady before they ran to the TARDIS. And she had loved him more every day, and stronger each time he told her anything about himself. She loved him when he told her about the destruction of his home, she loved him when explained what the Daleks had done, she loved him when he told her that he had been a father once, she loved him when he told her of the adventures he'd had, she loved him when he told her that she was different from Sarah Jane, she loved him when he laughed about living like a human even though his eyes were serious and scared, she loved him when he told her his real name, whispered it in her ear once in the TARDIS as they floated through the Vortex, a secretive grin on his face and a promise in his voice.

And she knew how he felt, too. She'd been able to see it in his eyes since the encounter with the Gelth, when he'd admitted how glad he was to have met her. She'd been able to hear it in his voice since her first encounter with a Dalek. She'd always been able to tell from his hugs, which had become more and more gentle and satisfying and wonderful and felt more and more like home as time went on.

But if he had said it, if he had voiced it, her world would have come crumbling down. She would have lost the will to live such a mundane life, she would have become a shell, she would have been left to forever speculate and remember and wish. But right now, she had hope. She was working for Torchwood, and they were working on a way to get her out of here. And every night she dreamed of him, and woke with a smile. She thought of him every day and looked forward to seeing him again, to hugging him so tightly again. She couldn't wait to see his eyes light up and his face glow. She was waiting for the day when she would go back, and she'd get him to finish the sentence he'd started that day on the beach. Because thinking of him, that's what kept her fighting.