Drabble: Clocks. (PG, Ten/Rose-ish, Regeneration.)

Clocks. PG-ish, vaguely Doctor/Rose. This is just a short, spacey, sad drabble about the possibilities of regeneration. Don't read if you're not feeling up to thoughts of Tennant leaving... ever. Heaven knows I'm not really up to it.


"We did it," the nice person tells him, feeling that this will somehow encourage everybody. "We did it, and the rockets are going up and they'll finally find us. You saved us. You can't die."

"You and what army ?" he asks, drunkenly.


( Clocks. )