For the Timepetalsprompt weekly drabble prompt, "Never again."
The Doctor tightened his arms around the woman curled up beside him. He'd thought he remembered what it felt like to hold a sleeping Rose, but while he'd never forgotten her warm weight against his side, or the way her hair tickled at his nose, he had forgotten what it felt like. The peace that stole over him in the middle of the night when it was just them, alone in their bed. The amazement and pride that this precious girl trusted him enough to be completely vulnerable to him. The comfort of knowing she was safe, that they had both made it through another day.
Rose mumbled something in her sleep, and he brushed a kiss over the top of her head. "Sleep, love," he whispered. "I've got you."
She settled back down, and a wave of fierce protectiveness swept over him. The two years apart had taken their toll on her as well as him—he'd seen it in the lines around her eyes and the weary set to her shoulders. He couldn't erase what their separation had done, to either of them, but he could make sure it never happened again.
Never say never ever.
Those words—his own from so long ago—taunted him, but he shoved the warning aside. For once, he ignored the grim pragmatism which had ruled his life for too long. Rose had come back to him against all the odds, and that gave him the courage to believe in the impossible. Now that she was home with him, he was never going to let her go.
