'Kay! Bit about me first. If you check my profile, you'll see that I'm more of a translator, really. There are only two stories I wrote myself in all I've published, and those are a short story and a one-shot. It doesn't mean I haven't written a lot of stuff over the years, bits and pieces here and there, but I'm usually too busy with real life and translations to see things through. Doesn't mean I won't ever publish what I wrote either; just mean I need to finish it first.

This story is different. Cause I've been obsessed with it for a while now. Can't stop thinking about it, dream about it even and I've got a lot of stuff already planned in my head just waiting to be written. Now it's only a matter of having time to do it (which admittedly I don't have) but I think it means I'll see this story through, come high and low.

I only know the new serie, and I've been a Doctor/Rose shipper from the beginning. Watching him leave her with the meta-crisis just about broke my heart because well, he's not the Doctor, is he? Felt like we were thrown a bone, ya know.

I've been binge-reading lately, and I found several JE fix-it stories I loved. And it made me want to do my own. So here it is. I hope I can offer you a different spin than those stories, and I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I'll love writing it. Here's to hoping.

Couple of things left, and then, I swear I'll let you on your reading. As I've said, I've read a lot of stories before deciding to write this one, and although I won't read them anymore (to avoid what I'm about to say really), some left a mark. So it is more than likely that you might sometimes read some stuff that reminds you of another of those stories but it will be purely accidental. I swear.

Also, it's obvious (well, if you checked my profile, that is) that English is not my first language. So I could really do with a beta. If someone's interested, PM me.

Now, last thing I have to tell you is that no matter how hard I wish for it, I don't own Doctor who and/or anything you might recognize from somewhere else. I do own however 57 pairs of socks and 3 pairs of shoes.

Oh, and enjoy!

Reuploading it now that it's been checked by hawkerin, who has agreed to be my beta! Hopefully, some things will make more sense now! :D

Of Beginnings

Rose Tyler knew she was dreaming. Or rather, having a nightmare. Cause this place, this place where she was, it was the place where life as she once knew it came to an end. The place where her heart broke the first time ("And I suppose, if it's one last chance to say it, Rose Tyler…"), and shattered without hope of ever healing the second ("I love you.").

Because, even if John Noble really did love her, even if he had the same memories, same thoughts, same everything, but only got one heart, he wasn't the Doctor.

For the Doctor did have two hearts. No matter how painful and how unfair it was to both of them. And she knew they both beat for her, even if he could never tell her. And sure, that still pissed her off. That her oh so brave Doctor could be such a coward when faced with his feelings but it made him who he was: the battle-born man full of blood and anger and revenge, all in leather and big ears; the mad-man with his box who never gave second chance, all in big smiles and big eyes and great hair; the stupid Time Lord so used to having happiness ripped from him that he was terrified of admitting that he could feel anything for the pink and yellow human who had promised him forever.

But it didn't matter to her. It never did. Because she loved him, just as he was.

John had been really understanding. Of course he had! He was the Doctor in all the ways that mattered but one. He understood how Rose felt. Understood that, even if she had kissed him, she had done so under the influence of the adrenalin and the serotonin still running through her veins. That in her euphoria – for saving the world once more, for finally being reunited with him – she hadn't been able to resist hearing a perfect copy of the man she loved tell her that he did, in fact, love her. The kiss had been passionate but brief, and she was already pulling back by the time she heard the sound of the universe abandoning her on that beach. She had screamed herself hoarse, calling for the Doctor, begging him to come back, to take her with him. When her voice had broken, she had collapsed, shivering and crying, unable to breathe and wishing to die. Because for one perfect moment, she had gotten back all she ever wanted only to lose it again by sheer stupidity. On both of their parts really: hers, for a stupid moment of weakness, and his, for being daft enough to think that giving her a copy of himself would ever make her happy.

And so, she had been forced to resume the life she'd thought she left behind ever since her first jump in the dimension canon. She'd gone back to Torchwood, back to the manor, to her mum and dad and Tony. John had come with her, because the Doctor's words were true, he did need her. Well, he needed anyone, really, to help him settle down, and help him create a life. He'd decided to call himself Noble. He'd told her that when the question of his identity had first arisen. He'd said that in a voice so different than his usual one, with a dreamy expression that didn't belong on his face that it made her think there was a story behind the name, a memory she wasn't part of. She'd simply nodded and lost herself back in her thoughts, trying to decide if there still might be a crack somewhere that she could slip through. He'd apologized then, reading her mind the way the Doctor sometimes did. He'd insisted there were no more cracks, anywhere, the Doctor would have made sure of that. At that news, she had broken down again.

She felt like breaking down was all she'd done those first few weeks. Of course, she'd done the same the first time around, but this was so much worse. In so many ways... Because of John. Because here he was, a carbon copy of the man she loved more than anything else. So close by, reminding her of how far the Doctor was. Sometimes, she just had to catch a glimpse of him to break down. Other times, she'd manage to keep it together enough to talk to him, all cold and clinical. Because as soon as he tried to invite a little warmth in their conversations, tears would start running down on her cheeks. And she hated that it hurt him too, that he knew that it was his fault she was such a mess. Well, not really his fault, he'd never asked for any of it. Rather he knew that his mere presence made her such a mess.

And it hurt him so, so badly. Because those words he'd whispered in her ear were true. He did love her, with all that he was. He was the Doctor with the same memories, same thoughts, same everything. And he loved her with his single heart. She felt so guilty for the pain she was putting him through, for not being able to love him as he most certainly deserved to be loved. With all her soul. But her soul belonged to another him.

She felt like neither of them had been given a choice. The Doctor took that choice away from her, and John never had one to begin with. He was born loving her.

And wasn't that just the saddest thing ever?

Sometimes she wondered if she could do it. For John. Because if there was one person who'd deserve it, it was John. So she wondered if she ever could do what the Doctor wanted her to do: have a fantastic life and love that human version of himself he'd given her. She'd tried to imagine it, ignoring the painful thudding of her heart. Tried to imagine herself giving John a chance, to love him, live with him, laugh with him, but the mere idea was excruciating and she'd end up gasping for air, unable to even breathe around the iron fist crushing her heart.

And John never said anything. That was the worst part of it. He didn't rant and rave about the unfairness of it all. He didn't yell at her to get over herself, to notice him here, and for fuck's sake to stop hurting him the way she knew she was. He just stared at her with his big brown eyes, so full of love and devotion and pain and...pity. He pitied her. In what kind of world were they living that such an ironic thing could exist? He pitied her because she – the woman he loved more than anything – couldn't be with another man. Another him.

She was so tired of it all, of hurting John, of crying so much she felt she was born with red eyes, of the exhaustion she now lived her life with. And so, so tired of this inextinguishable thirst she felt all the time – mild dehydration, she knew, for all the tears she spilled every day. She was just...tired.

And now, even her subconscious wouldn't let her rest anymore.

The nightmare was a familiar one, one she'd had many times the first time around – when she could at least still sleep for a while at night. She was standing on that beach, so far away from the home she made for herself in this new world, so much further from her real home. The wind was whipping her blond hair all around her face, the salt from the ocean was burning her throat and her eyes, and she would turn around. He'd be there, her Doctor, just a projection, an illusion, so, so far away from her and so alone. And he would open his mouth, say her name and then disappear, like the fragment of a dream we forget as soon as we wake up.

She used to wake up screaming for him, begging him to stay, and crying. Always crying, until her mum and dad came into her room and soothed her, rocked her to sleep like a child, only to start anew a few hours later. All night. Every night. Until a doctor had prescribed her sleeping pills. But she'd stopped taking them when she'd started to jump, comforted even in her sleep by the knowledge that she was getting back to him.

Ever since she'd come back, the pills weren't working anymore.

Now the only time she would sleep was when she passed out from sheer exhaustion, after days spent crying and trying to keep the shambles of her life together. Once or twice she'd collapsed in the middle of the day, her knees giving out, unconscious even before she reached the floor.

Her parents had taken her to a doctor, of course, and he'd prescribed her the strongest sleeping pills he could think of, but they just made her drowsy, nothing more. The doctor was baffled, her parents worried and herself mildly interested. Medicine from this world had worked the first time around. Was she developing some sort of immunity? Or maybe her metabolism worked differently? Or maybe, just maybe, her pain was so strong this time around that it couldn't be sedated by anything.

Whatever the reason was, she didn't care. She didn't care about a lot of things nowadays.

The wind was blowing, the salt was burning, and she was once more standing on the edge of a cliff, ready to drown in an ocean of pain. Slowly, ever so slowly, she turned around, trying to mentally prepare herself for seeing her Doctor once more...

Only to watch, baffled, as a slender figure in a dress came barreling toward her.

"Wolf! My Wolf!" the woman squealed. "I've found you!" She skidded to a halt in front of her, almost losing her balance and Rose instinctively grabbed her to settle her. The woman beamed at her.

She had dark hair piled up on the top of her head and dark shining eyes. She wore a Victorian dress, in a shade of blue awfully familiar to Rose but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. But the dress was tattered, split open in several places and her hair was falling down on her face and Rose couldn't be sure but thought there might be blood on her shoulder.

"Listen," Rose said. "You don't look so good."

The woman made a derisive sound, still beaming, her eyes devouring Rose's face. Rose was confused, they were in her dream, right?

"Wolf!" the woman squealed again. "Hello! My Wolf! Can I bite you?"

Did she hear that right? "What?!" Rose asked, stepping back.

"I like biting. I will like biting? Oh, tenses are confusing! It's like kissing but there's a winner," the woman told her happily.

"Err, listen, lady," Rose began. Seriously, it was too much even for her. "People don't go around biting strangers around here, or getting bitten by strangers. Same goes for kisses, really."

The woman's face fell. "Oh." Then she lit up again. "But we're not strangers, you and I. You're my Wolf. So can I?"

She looked at her with so much hope that Rose had to pinch herself. She didn't feel anything since they were in her dream though. "I'm sorry lady, but I haven't the foggiest who you are," Rose told her honestly. "And I'm no wolf," she then added, shivering at the memories creeping up on her.

"But...but...you are," the woman said, pouting. "We're...we're..." The woman frowned, clearly searching for the right word. "Friends. No. Not just friends. Something friend. Or is it fried? Stir-fried? No. No. No. That's not right. Friends. Something friend."

Rose frowned too. Had she finally lost her mind? Was that what was really happening? Was she huddled in a corner of her room, mumbling about stir-fried?

The woman made a frustrated noise at the back of her throat. "I should have upgraded it before I archived it."

"Upgraded what?" Rose asked despite herself.

"This!" the woman exclaimed, gesturing at herself. "I've seen what will happen, and I liked it – will like it? – so I've decided to archive a version of it, for neatness you understand, but..."

"Lady," Rose interrupted, getting frustrated. "You make absolutely no sense. Who the hell are you?"

The woman smiled, a huge beaming smile full of adoration. "He calls me Sexy."

"Err..." Rose was taken aback. And maybe a little stunned. "Who?" She coughed. "Who does?"

"My Thief!" the woman answered happily. As if it should made sense to Rose. "You know my Thief. He and I stole you together."

"What?!" Rose sputtered. "I've never been stolen," she said. I only had everything stolen from me, that she didn't say.

The woman snorted. "Course you were. We did. You came with us and we traveled."

Rose was starting to get frustrated. "Listen, I'd remember if I ever traveled with a cra...lady like you."

"No. No. No," the woman moaned, and her eyes were brighter. "But you do remember me. You cry for me sometimes. If only I remembered the name you called me. Because my Thief said – says? Will say? – that he only calls me Sexy when we're alone. And you only call me that name where no-one can hear you too. You will know who I am. Friends. Friend something. Something friend..."

The woman kept muttering and Rose kept staring. What the hell was going on?

"Listen..." Rose began.

"GIRLFRIEND!" the woman shouted happily.

"Huh?"

"You call me Girlfriend! You said 'Hello Girlfriend' and I'll say 'Hello Girlfriend' and you stroke bits of me. I like when you do that."

"Wha...?" Rose was flabbergasted. What the hell?

The woman's face fell when she saw Rose's expression. "You still don't recognise me?"

Mute, Rose shook her head.

"Oh. I've got another name. A name you use when you talk about me. What is it again?"

Rose's head was spinning. What the hell was going on? Who was that crazy woman? What did she want with her?

"Oh, you know me. Better than anyone. Maybe even better than my Thief." The woman was getting frustrated again. "I'm big, and blue, and you looked into me and I looked into you and together we made you howl."

Impossible. That was just impossible. There was no way. Absolutely no way. Still, Rose had to ask.

"The TARDIS?!"

"Time And Relative Dimension In Space. Yes, that's it. Names are funny. It's me. I'm the TARDIS."

"No, you're not. You're a bitey, mad lady," Rose muttered, because really the other option was just impossible.

"Hm, that's exactly what he said – is saying – will say," the woman sniggered.

"Who?" Rose asked without even consciously deciding to do so. That was just crazy.

"My Thief. We live together. And he talks and runs around and brings home strays. A lot."

"The Doctor," Rose breathed painfully.

"My Doctor," the woman – the TARDIS? – confirmed, beaming. "He stole me and I stole him and we stole you together."

"You're really the TARDIS?" Rose couldn't believe it.

"Yes, it's me," the woman answered happily. "I've been looking everywhere we went for you," she then continued, frowning. "But you've been hidden, so far away that I..."

Rose couldn't keep it together anymore. She launched herself at the other woman, crying. She felt the TARDIS hesitantly close her arms around her.

"This is nice," the TARDIS breathed in her hair. "What are we doing?"

Rose gave a wet little chuckle. "We're huggin'."

"Huggin'? I like that. It's even better than biting will be."

"How?" Rose started before choking on a sob. "How come you're human?"

"This will happen to me soon," the TARDIS told her. "My console was stolen and I'll be transferred into this body. I like it. It's nice to be able to talk to you and to my Thief."

"Soon?" Rose repeated, pulling back a little to see her face. "Hold on. How come you can do that if it hasn't happened yet?"

The TARDIS gave a little laugh. "I exist across all time and space. I can do anything I like."

"Can you..." Rose swallowed, hard. "Can you bring me back?"

The TARDIS stroked her cheek. "I'm the one stroking a bit of you for once," she giggled, before answering, "That's why I'm here."

Rose sucked in a breath and hold it, not daring to believe what she was hearing. "Re...really? For real? But the Doctor said..."

"There are things even my Thief doesn't know," the TARDIS interrupted her. "Things even he can't do. As I will say – no, as I've said, I've been looking everywhere we went for you, and now, I've finally found you and can bring you back where you belong."

"But how?" Rose managed to ask, too choked by hope to say anything else.

"Something bad is happening, and I'm going BOOM!" the TARDIS shouted, making Rose jump, "all across the universe. And there are cracks in the fabric of reality, cracks that are absorbing time and space and I slipped through one to find you and bring you home. Because you're not happy."

"No," Rose breathed, enraptured by the humanoid TARDIS in front of her. "I'm the furthest thing from happy."

"I know," the TARDIS whispered. "I can hear you cry for us every second of every hour." She sighed and added, "My Thief is not happy either."

"He left me here," Rose muttered, and questions suddenly popped in her head. Did he actually leave her here on purpose? Did he not love her like she thought he did? Would he even want her back? Things that were certain for her earlier were now turning to fears when faced with the possibility of returning.

"He can be an idiot sometimes," the TARDIS grumbled. And Rose's mind filled with pictures of her Doctor.

The horror on his face when she let go of the lever at Canary Wharf, falling toward the void.

The Doctor, lying in his bed, clutching a pillow and gasping, holding a hand out as if trying to catch something.

The tears rolling down his face when the connection between them was broken before he could tell her how much he loved her.

Her bedroom door, still situated across from the Doctor's. A stroke of his finger on the golden rose adorning it every time he passed by.

The smile appearing on his face when he first spotted her when she finally made her way back, lightening his whole face as he started to run toward her.

The Doctor watching her kiss John. The heartbroken expression on his face and Donna's hand on his shoulder, trying to slow him down as he left without looking back.

The Doctor lying in her room, holding her pillow to his face and breathing deeply.

The Doctor, alone in the TARDIS, stroking the console silently before disappearing in the corridor.

The Doctor, visiting her before they even met, wishing her a brilliant year.

The Doctor, regenerating, all alone.

"This new body of his was born missing you," the TARDIS told her, echoing something in her mind, as she gasped and clutched her middle, convinced that not only her heart was breaking this time, but her whole body was falling apart under the pain she felt.

She couldn't breathe, she couldn't. He was all alone. Alone and in pain. Just like her. And he needed her. He NEEDED her just like she needed him. Because they could only be happy together. There was no other way for them.

"Bring...bring...me...back..." she begged, through her chattering teeth. "Please! You've...got...to...take...me...back...to...him..." she gasped, barely able to think, let alone talk through the pain choking her. "I...can't...I...can't..." A keening noise – the moan of a wounded animal – reverberated around them and it took her a few seconds to realise that it was coming from her.

"Shhh...shhh...shhh..." The TARDIS soothed her, putting her hands on her temples. "That's why I'm here. That's why I'm here. I came to steal you back!" She breathed, and a soft melody rose in her head, wave after wave of love and comfort washing over her, until the pain finally receded a little. Just enough to allow her to breathe again and listen to the urgent words the TARDIS was telling her.

"...Can just bring your soul back, your body would be too heavy. I can send you back to the first time you stepped in me. I need a physical connection. It will be hard, because Bad Wolf doesn't exist for her yet, but this is the only time I can do it. Using the Big Bang. You'll be returning to the past with your memories of all that happened, but you must remember that even if you can change some things, others are to remain. You will have to become the Bad Wolf again so that I can get you now. Do you understand? I won't be able to talk to you anymore. Not like this, but I will help you whenever I can. You will have to make choices you shouldn't have to make. It will be hard, and painful and I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but it is all for the best, do you see? That way you will be reunited with my Thief and you will both be happy again and so will I."

"Ca...Canary Wharf...?" she muttered, unable to explain further, but the TARDIS understood.

"I don't know. The timelines will be rewritten. But not yet. Not until it is done, so even I don't know what will happen. I'm sorry, but you'll have to be strong now."

Rose nodded, took a deep breath, and asked the other thing she wanted to know. The other thing she already an inkling about.

"If I succeed, how long will I be able to stay with him?"

The TARDIS smirked. "We are the Bad Wolf. We created you. When we did, we changed you. Not a lot but enough. And the protective instincts of the Wolf did as well."

"Wha...?" she asked, confused.

"Your ageing has slowed down, I'm sure you've noticed."

Rose nodded, because really, with all she went through, she should look at least ten years older.

"Your body degenerates slower and heals faster," the TARDIS explained.

"But for how long?"

"A lifetime or an eternity. It will depend," the TARDIS answered, mysteriously.

"On what?" she asked, stunned.

"On my Thief of course!"

"What..."

"There is no time left!" the TARDIS hissed. "My Thief is closing the breach. We have to do it now. Are you ready?"

Distantly, Rose thought of her family. Her mum and dad and brother, all asleep, waking up in the morning to realise she was gone. She thought of John, abandoned in a parallel world on his own. But then she realised that if she managed to change the timelines enough, John would never exist. He would fade into oblivion, into a storm of possibilities. And she was sure he would prefer that. She knew he wasn't happy stuck in a world where he didn't belong.

Her mum might find Pete again, though. If everything went like the first time. She still had a chance. Was she selfish, risking her mum's happiness? Yes, she was. Could she do anything about it? No. She was dying and so was the Doctor. She was sure her mum would tell her to go back.

So she nodded.

The TARDIS hugged her again, and the song in her head turned melancholy. "I will miss this once it's gone," she breathed in her hear before kissing her cheek. "Close your eyes."

Rose obeyed and a blinding golden light erupted behind her eyelids as she felt herself leaving her heavy body behind.

"Remember," the TARDIS whispered in her mind, "You must make him ask you twice. He never did before."

And then she knew no more.

Soooo... What do you say? Worth continuing? Let me know what you think!