Author's Notes:
Please forgive my grammar and spelling. I'm American and despite years of writing Harry Potter fic, I'm afraid I'm still struggling with BritSpeak. This story is also un-betaed. Does not take post Void/Rose/BadWolfBay cannon into account.

"It's only impossible if I haven't found a way yet." That's what he kept telling himself. And between alien invasions of Earth, massive megalomaniacs bent on universal domination, and your run of the mill TARDIS related side-trips, he'd been working on it. When he'd said goodbye to Rose, he'd assumed it was going to take a while. He'd not wanted her to hope or expect, knowing he might not be able to deliver. He'd wanted her to get married, have a gaggle of children, and name them all John. Really, that was his intent. It hurt; it did. Was only fair though, that she do those things, have that life since he couldn't give her the one she wanted.

He wasn't stupid or blind. Rose loved him. He'd known that long before her tearful confession on the beach. He'd known that when he promised her that she'd never be left behind. He'd sworn he'd do for her what he'd never been able to do. He'd watch her die.

He'd watched his mother die, saw what it did to his father, and he'd learned his lesson young. Don't get attached. Let them leave before you see them start to fail. That way, being a Time Lord and all, you know it's possible to go and find them, just as you remember them. As soon as you find them old or frail, you let them into your timeline like that. You can go back, oh you could. See them young again, talk to them. But you'll always know. You'll see the ghost of the older them hovering over their younger face, see the pain in the brighter, clearer eyes. And you'll hurt them because they won't understand why you're crying.

Rose was different. He now understood how his father must have felt. Rose deserved to have love for her entire life, short as it may be. She needed to be held and cherished from the day she was born till the day she breathed her last. It wasn't fair to Rose to expect her to hang around till the first crow's feet showed and then happily bounce away just to leave him an illusion. He'd promised her she wouldn't be another Sarah-Jane. With that promise he'd also given her his soul. He'd never understood his father. Now, that they were all gone, he finally understood.

Jack would have laughed. After all, they'd really never even had a proper kiss. The Doctor knew that didn't matter. Not to him and not to Rose. Kisses, sex, all that — it didn't matter. Oh, if they'd had more time it might have gotten to that. He was 900 years old, a grandfather at one point. It just wasn't a priority. And Rose, Rose enjoyed his company knowing that for once a bloke didn't need into her skirt to care for her, to love her. It was a unique experience for the young girl, sadly, and the Doctor was in no hurry to change that. He just wanted her company and she, she was happy with his. Until he couldn't give it, until the Void.

The worst of it was, he'd started to think that maybe, just maybe, one day, he and Rose might try something a little novel. He really had never tried domestic, after all. It was about time. The TARDIS liked children...

Then it had all gone to hell.

The Doctor sighed and imputed the last of the coordinates into the TARDIS and hesitated on the lever. He had no delusions. If Rose was still alive in the other Universe she'd be far too old for that now. Time moved differently over there, how differently he still wasn't certain. But without the use of the Time Vortex, he couldn't manipulate it. He'd land when he would land and that would be the end of it. It seemed as if the other universe was somehow tied to his own personal timeline. So, he could wager that if he was lucky, very lucky, it had only been 80 years for Rose too. She might be alive. Maybe.

He pulled the leaver. The TARDIS groaned and sparks flew and he lost consciousness for a time.

He smelled fire and dust and fried hair. It took him a moment to remember what he'd done, breached the universes again. He pulled himself up off the grating and cast a weary eye at the emergency lightening in the control room. The TARDIS hummed at him, reminding him he'd come for a reason, put her through this for a reason, and he'd best get on with it. They'd landed somewhere with a compatible power source, and she'd already started her auto-repair sequences. So Pete's World had developed new power sources. That at least was good.

The Doctor brushed the dust off himself and grabbed his screwdriver before throwing open the doors. The outside didn't look all that different. They'd landed in some kind of a park and for a moment the Doctor's hearts sank. It was a cemetery. He'd programmed the TARDIS to take him as close to Rose as possible and he'd landed in a cemetery. He cast a mournful look around at the headstones and felt a jolt of hope. They were old, far older than Rose's time. He raised his head and looked around, trying to spot where she might be. There was a row of houses to the left, all the generic suburban kind with little to no yard and all the same color. Rose would never live in one of those, that he knew. She'd joked too many times about them sucking the life out of people. To the right the cemetery stretched out almost forever it seemed. But directly ahead, there was a large building, looked like at least 12 or 15 stories. A hospital if the large symbol on the side was anything to go by. What kind of an idiot puts a hospital next to a cemetery?

He shrugged and started off to the hospital, his hearts beating a little faster. She'd be very old, if he'd guessed his timing right. It was possible she'd be inside. He briefly sent a plea to whatever gods might be listening, even the fake ones, that she'd still be aware. After all, humans from the 21st century didn't tend to be doing well when they reach more than a century of age.

In the end it was easy. He stopped at the information desk on the first floor and asked if there was a Rose Tyler in the hospital. The young lady behind the desk wordlessly typed the name into the computer and it gave out a mechanical sounding number and floor. The woman asked for identification and he flashed his psychic paper. He'd guessed that would be needed, Rose being a Tyler. The id should have read John Tyler. He's planned on saying he was a cousin or something. The girl drew a sharp breath and he held his.

"Sir, do..." The girl coughed. "Are you aware of her condition?"

The Doctor shook his head no and the girl's look of sympathy cut him to the quick. It must be bad. He didn't dwell on the fact her name hadn't changed. It might not mean anything. She could have kept it. She could still have had her gaggle of children and her London posh flat.

"Then it's a good thing you've come now." She didn't elaborate but the gentle squeeze to his arm left him in no doubt of what she meant. Rose didn't have long.

The Doctor hurried to the elevator and pressed the button for the 14 floor and the intensive care unit. Evidently they allowed visitors, for which he was grateful. He didn't waste time stopping at the shop for flowers. If the receptionist had been correct, it really wouldn't matter. He had a promise to keep.

The smell of death and antiseptic hit him when the doors opened. Room 1412 was down the first hall on the left. A nurse was just coming out of the room when he stopped outside. "Is this Rose Tyler's room?"

The nurse gave a small, sad smile. "Yes. Are you a family member?"

The Doctor cringed; he didn't have it in him today to lie again. For some reason, it didn't feel right — rare but it did happen. "No, but can I still see her? Please?" His voice cracked and he didn't even try to hide it. "I'm an old friend. I promised her I'd come..."

The nurse smiled at him, again sadly. "I don't see why not. No one's been here for months. Her nephew's been too busy with the company. I'm glad..." The nurse glanced down the hallway. "I'm not supposed to give out a patient's condition, especially not Ms. Tyler's. " The Doctor nodded. The Tyler family would still have influence. "But she shouldn't be alone." The nurse waved him towards the door and he caught the whispered "no one should die alone" as she left for the nurses station down the hall. His hand trembled as he opened the door.

It smelled like a death room. He could tell that they tried to keep her clean, but it was long past the point where she had control. That was obvious. The number of tubes and wires sticking out of her tiny shriveled frame were evidence of that. A feeding tube. A caterer. A ventilator. The nurse had said it had been months since anyone had visited. How long had she been like this?

Her eyes were closed. A small trickle of moister was dried on the left side of her mouth. The Doctor stifled a sound of anguish as he looked at her. She was so old. Even her hair was gone and the way her lips curled, she'd obviously lost her teeth as well. He called up her chart on the terminal set into the wall. Cancer. Some form they weren't even able to identify. Torchwood. They had it narrowed down to some form of radiation contamination she'd been exposed to years before. She was the last of her team left alive. The others had all died within ten years of the exposure. Rose had battled the cancer on and off for fifty years.

The Doctor keyed the terminal off. He couldn't imagine what she'd gone through. According to the chart, the only thing keeping her alive was the machines. She'd lost the ability to walk nearly 30 years ago now. The cancer had eaten into her spine. She'd stayed active even after that, traveling, consulting for Torchwood. It had only been in the last five years she'd had to give that up. She'd never officially retired, but they didn't call anymore. The Doctor was certain of that. Humans, they saw a weak body they assumed a weak mind. This was Rose. She'd fought this long...

He pulled a chair up to her bedside and gently took her hand. The cart said she'd been completely paralyzed for over year, she wouldn't even feel it. No movement below her neck. Thanks to the tech of the time, they'd managed to slow the cancer enough that she was still mentally aware. He wasn't sure that was good thing. Rose. Trapped in a useless body for over a year.

"Doctor?" The voice was pained and raspy, fighting the breathing machine for enough air to speak.

The Doctor started. She hadn't even opened her eyes. "Rose?" Her lids fluttered open and she tried to smile.

"Knew you'd come." She took a deep breath. "Promised, you did."

He nodded. "Rose, I tried..." She blinked at him; it was all the further she could move.

"I know." She closed her eyes and the heart monitor showed her pulse jump as a wave of pain washed over her. "I had a..." she took another breath. "A fantastic life..." breath "for you." She opened her eyes and the Doctor turned her head a bit so she could look at him straight on instead out of the corner of her eye.

"Rose," His voice did break and he realized he was crying.

She blinked again. "Will you..." breath "Do me one last favor?" breath "Doctor?"

"Anything." He meant it. Whatever she wanted.

"I don't..." breath "want to die here." She met his eye, the same look of hard determination there that he'd seen a hundred times before, only this time there was no way out. "Please, I want..." breath. "I want to die at home."

The Doctor's own breath was shaky. "Tell me where it is, Rose. Somehow, I'll get you there."

She tried to laugh, but the machine wouldn't let her and she ended up making a sickening choking sound. "Home's not here." Breath "Home's the TARDIS."

It hurt. Home was the TARDIS? Her home? After all this time? "Oh Rose!" He was hugging her, against the bed, his head resting beneath her chin and he was sobbing.

"I wish..." breath. "I could hold you..." breath "one last time," breath "My Doctor." He didn't look at her, he couldn't. "I know, " breath "too much to ask." breath "...to travel one last time."

"NO!" He almost shouted it and squeezed her tighter, ignoring the wires and tubes. "Nothin's too much." He drew a shaky breath. "For you Rose Tyler, anythin's possible." He stayed, half laying on her listening to her weakened heart beat against his ear until a small sound from the door snapped him upright. Rose's eyes were closed and she was asleep again. He turned to look at the doorway. The nurse from earlier was standing there. In her hands, a picture frame taken from the shelf at the foot of the bed.

"You're the Doctor." The nurse looked him over carefully. She put the picture frame back on the shelf and the Doctor realized is was a photo of him, snapped from Rose's old phone. The print was of bad quality and looked its age. It was the only photo in the room, positioned so Rose, even in her current state, could see it. "She use to tell such stories." The nurse came further into the room and started to adjust the equipment, straightening the mess he'd made of it. "She asked me to make sure you were able to get in when you came." The nurse eyed him critically. "I never thought you would." She gave a small laugh. "Torchwood. You think they'd at least pay her some attention. She worked for 'em for over 70 years." She ran a hand gently over the top of Rose's bald head. "They all abandoned her in the end."

The Doctor sat back down in his chair and didn't try to hide his sorrow. "I wanted her to be happy."

The nurse nodded. "She was. In her own way." The nurse pulled up another chair on the other side of the bed and sat down. "I've seen her kind, your kind, Doctor. This hospital gets a lot of Torchwood cases. Seen too much, the lot of you." She patted a wrinkle down on the bed cover and frowned. "Give their lives to the cause. Somehow, they survive all the battles and the wars and the intrigues. In the end, they can't survive themselves."

The Doctor looked up sharply and the nurse waved off his glare. "She saved us I don't know how many times. Pulled some fancy stuff, from what I hear if the rumors are true. Some say she even spent a year living off planet to set up the treaty we have with...well I can't pronounce it." The nurse leaned back and crossed her arms. "Still, she had nobody to talk to. Nobody with enough security clearance or enough knowledge to relate. I see it all the time, Doctor."

"She told you things."

The nurse shook her head no and gave a snort. "I know about you. She said you'd come back for her someday, if only to say goodbye. She said you'd probably look just like your picture up there, even after all this time. Something about travel and stars and some kind of a war. That's all. Everything else, well, only when the medication was strong enough to make her delusional. She told me once you might have a difference face too. I though she'd finally gone mad." The Doctor smiled halfheartedly and the nurse chuckled quietly before straightening in her seat and looking serious. "Well, if you meant it, we'd best get a move on. The real doctor'll be making his rounds soon."

The Doctor gave the woman a confused look and she rolled her eyes. "I have no real idea what or where this TARDIS is, but if Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth, wants to die there, than I suggest we honor that." The nurse gave a pointed look to the vital signs on the monitor. The Time Lord was running out of time.

He was numb as the nurse, he still didn't know her name, found battery backups for all the machines. Most of it they won't take. She wouldn't be needing it anyway. The TARDIS, once there, could take over all of it. The nurse made up some excuse and cleared the hall. They got Rose down in the staff elevator and out a service entrance. Alarms started when they were half way across the entrance drive. Rose Tyler may have been neglected by visitors, but the hospital had no desire to answer to Torchwood and the Tyler family if they allowed her to be kidnapped. The Doctor practically ran, pushing the gurney she was on, slowing only when they hit the grass in the cemetery. Rose's eyes flew open as soon as the sirens started. A true grin spread across her face and the Doctor felt an answering smile on his own.

"Just like old times." He grabbed her hand again, pushing the gurney one handed as the nurse struggled to keep it aimed. They got to TARDIS just as the police started to swarm around them. He noticed a soft glow coming from Rose and he realized she still had her TARDIS key on a necklace. He smiled down at her and spared a moment to pull the catch open and free the key. It was only right that Rose should open the door. Between them, the nurse and the Doctor got her inside and the doors closed just as their pursuers got within reach.

The TARDIS hummed loudly and Rose gave another grin. "Hello..."breath "old..." breath "girl." The nurse and the Doctor shared a look and he led the way quickly to the med bay. It took only moments to have his fears confirmed. Even he couldn't do anything now. He transferred her over to one of the beds and the TARDIS took over life support from the inefficient, stupid human machines. She was slipping away. He couldn't stop it, couldn't fix it. She was too far gone already.

The nurse didn't say anything. She patted his shoulder and walked back to the control room, pulling the gurney loaded down with the now useless machines. He felt through the TARDIS her departure and he spared a hope that the people outside wouldn't shot her. She could always claim mind control. If she'd stayed put he would have offered her a ride...she'd taken care of Rose. That had to be worth something. As it was, he didn't have the time to find her.

He gently brushed a hand down Rose's cheek. She'd fallen back asleep. The picture of him was laying next to her and he noticed for the first time a small black album on her other side. The nurse must have put it there. He opened it up, ignoring the banging on the outside of the ship. Each picture was labeled and he realized he was looking at Rose's brother's life. His childhood, his wedding, his children. And his funeral by the looks of it. Rose was scattered throughout the album, always off to the side. Watching. Smiling. But separate. Jackie and Pete, Mickey and Jake. He watched them all disappear from the small book, knowing that each absence meant another loss.

He left her side just long enough to take the TARDIS into the air, off of Earth. There was no Vortex here to travel in, but he had enough power to get them home, he'd planned ahead this time. He set the coordinates, pushed the lever and this time the transition was smooth. The TARDIS was almost powerless when they landed in their Universe, but she trilled at him, urging him to ignore her, to take care of Rose. He put them into the Vortex. Given a choice, a dying Time Lord, on their last regeneration, would always choose to leave this life inside the Vortex. Rose wasn't one of his kind, at least not biologically. But she was the most...is the most...he was crying again.

He made it back to the med bay just as she was coming around. He could tell by her breathing it would be the last time. Even with the advanced machines she couldn't draw enough air to speak. He leaned down and kissed her gently and a tear ran down her face, sliding of his cheek before it hit hers. Another joined it and trailed down to her pillow. He stared into her eyes until she gently lost consciousness again. When that happened, he did the only thing he could. He crawled into the bed next to her and pulled her close before silently telling the TARDIS to power off the support. She was home.

It didn't take long. One minute, 36 seconds. She was gone. No last shuddering breath. Without the machines, she didn't have the strength. Just...silence. And then he couldn't feel her heart, her tiny, fragile, lonely human heart just simply didn't beat again.

He didn't know the TARDIS could cry. That was what she was doing. He could feel it, hear it in his mind. His beautiful ship was singing a song to Rose, to him, and it was ... crying. His own tears silently joined hers and he wept. He'd kept his promise. "Rose." He mumbled her name as pulled her close. His Rose.