All rights for Doctor Who are the BBC's.

AN: Christopher Eccleston rules. Now shut up and leave him alone.

Rose Tyler.

He placed the pen back on the table and then tore the paper, picking up the name. He slowly walked across the room – the long, filled with notes room – and stopped as he reached another note. The Doctor. He placed it on the wall underneath it and then stuck it to it using his sonic screwdriver, knowing it was the only way to keep it there. She didn't like that room; but when he used the screwdriver, she had no choice but to let him keep it.

The way she always did, she hummed her disapproval, but he ignored her. He's gotten good at this after doing this for about a hundred years. She was the only one he had from home, the only thing he had from home, but when it came to the dead he couldn't care less. They were dead because of him. Every single one of them.

He'd lost people before the war, of course, but it was nothing like the things he's done during it. It was nothing like using the Galaxy Eater. Billions of Time Lords and living beings; his entire race; they were all gone in a moment, burned in a fire that lasted less than a second and yet the whole of time itself.

And ever since then, he counted. Every single being. Every creature that died because of him. They were all up there, on the walls, their names or types written in his handwriting. He could read every name; no matter how far it was. Writing it down was just a habit, anyway; they were all in his mind.

And on top of them, the Doctor. Because the man who fought in the Time War could never be the Doctor. And he, he who watched so many people die, who saw the universe burning and led people to their death, he could never be the Doctor, either. He didn't know if he'll ever be the Doctor again, in any incarnation in his future.

He didn't want to survive, but he had to. But even that wasn't real survival; the Doctor – the real Doctor – was dead long before the war had ended.

She's still alive. The TARDIS reminded him. She's in her room right now, preparing for sleep.

"I killed her." His voice was quiet. His long fingers gently traced her name over and over as he stared at the one above it. "The only reason she's still here is the Dalek. I was the one who brought her here and I was the one who sealed her in there with him. She'd be dead if it wasn't for him."

"Doctor?"

The look in his eyes became distant; he was too deep in his thoughts to notice the voice was coming from outside. "Funny, isn't it? The only reason she survived was a Dalek, the same reason I had to wipe them all out. If it weren't for the Daleks, they'd all still be alive; but if it weren't for this Dalek, Rose would've been dead. I dragged her into this. If it weren't for me, she'd never have been in any danger."

"Doctor?"

His head shot up as he realized it was Rose's voice. He couldn't quite see her, but he could hear her footsteps coming closer and closer to him and knew she was inside the room now. His room; the only room he refused to let her see. The TARDIS didn't like this idea either, but after he forbade her to make the room change or disappear, when he'd only just started, she didn't try to get Rose in.

"What are these?" She asked, reading the names as her fingers touched a few notes, one note at a time.

"Rose, get out." His voice turned out to be sterner than he'd have liked, but he didn't mind at that moment. He needed her to leave.

She ignored him. He loved that about her – how she did what she thought was right – but at the same time, he hated the fact she wouldn't listen to him. "What are all these names?" She continued asking. "They're names, right?" She asked, pointing at a few of the top ones, written in Gallifreyan.

He nodded briefly. "Yes. Now get out."

She kept on reading as she moved closer to him. "So many names. I know her!" She stopped as she read Gwyneth. Her eyes filled with sadness. "She died. And Sneed… and Jabe… they're all dead." She looked up at him, her now-brownish eyes meeting his stormy blue ones. "Why are they all written here?" There was horror in her eyes; horror as well as pain.

"Because of me." He looked away, his eyes becoming distant again. "They're all dead because of me. That's why their names are written here. Now, Rose, please… get out."

"What's that behind you?" He closed his eyes, sighing inwardly. She stepped closer and stopped next to him, where she could read her newly-added-to-the-list name. "Rose Tyler? That's… that's my name."

"Yes." His voice was hoarse.

"I'm not dead." She looked at him, trying to find his eyes, but he turned away. "I'm here. I'm right here. Am I supposed to die? Is that why you wrote it?"

She sounded so horrified he couldn't help but look up at her. "No! Rose, believe me… you're not supposed to die. You're not going to die. I won't let it happen, no matter what happens!"

"Then what's this?"

He looked down. "I killed you." His voice was emotionless. "I brought you to this place and I made the decision to kill you. I pressed the button myself."

"You can't say you killed me when I'm alive." She said gently, resting her hand against one of his arms. "I'm right here."

"Thanks to the Dalek," He mumbled bitterly. "I was the one who killed you; he was the one who saved you. And I was willing to destroy him just like that."

She opened her mouth to argue, but then she noticed the name above hers. "The Doctor?" She asked quietly. "Yourself?"

"I'm not the Doctor." She looked at him worriedly. "I used to be the Doctor. But the Doctor doesn't destroy people. The Doctor doesn't kill innocents. The Doctor would never have murdered his own people.

"No," He sighed quietly, "Whoever I am now, I'm not the Doctor. Maybe I could have been; maybe I will be; but right now, how can I be the Doctor when I watched the universe fall apart and destroyed my only home? And all these deaths, Rose…" His voice filled with agony as he begged her to understand, "They were nothing compared to this." His fingers gently traced the curvy lines that made her name. "What does that make me, Rose? What kind of a Doctor am I?"

She looked at him quietly for a long moment before wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly, pulling him closer to her. He was stiff in her arms for a long moment, completely shocked, before slowly wrapping his arms around her waist.

"You're the Doctor," She replied simply. "The Doctor who'd rather have watched me die than watch the massacre of the entire human race by a single Dalek. The Doctor who'd tried to save the Gelth in whatever way he could, even if we couldn't think of using dead bodies that way. The Doctor who'd given the Nestene consciousness a chance to leave peacefully before destroying it." She pulled back, looking into his eyes. "Isn't that the Doctor?"

Looking deep into her now-looking-green eyes, he found himself mumbling, "Yes. But they're all dead, Rose. They're all…"

"But at least they haven't been forgotten." She released him and then quickly pulled out the note with her name. A heartbeat later the note with his name was also in her hand. She tore them into the smallest pieces she could and then handed them to him, looking at him seriously. "I'm Rose, by the way. What's your name?"

He smiled, unable to hold back, as he took the shreds of paper. "The Doctor."

She returned him a smile. "Nice to meet you, Doctor. Run for your life."

He laughed quietly and took her hand, leading her away. "By the way, did I mention it can also travel time?" She burst out laughing. "Really, though!"

"Really," She agreed, closing the door behind her. He hesitated for a moment before sealing it, making sure no one would enter the room again. "Where are we going to now?"

"How about year two-hundred thousand?" He suggested.

She shrugged. "Sounds good to me."