Title: Clarity
Pairing: 10/Rose, slight 9/Rose
Timeline: Directly after "The Girl in the Fireplace"
Summary: He isn't certain which feelings were his and which were leftover from his previous self, yet; it hasn't been long since the regeneration, and he can still feel his previous self lurking in the back of his conscious, sill unwilling to let go of what he had gained for so short a time.

Silence. All he hears is the dual heartbeats pulsing through his body, and the whisper that his breath makes as he exhales. The paper in his hands is heavy; he's staring blankly at it now, the words running and blending in his mind until he can't tell what it says. But he knows. He knows and he doesn't want to accept. It's over, finished, completed, died, and there is nothing he can do about it.

That's what scares him. The finality.

In the TARDIS, everything is infinite. He can go anywhere, do anything, and be anyone. Out there, it ended. Time flowed on, but what it touched withered and died. There was nothing he could do to stop it, even with the power of Time flowing through his veins. Everything ended.

There's a sad chime in his head and he blocks the TARDIS out. He doesn't want her comfort now. Not for the first time, he is reminded of why it is dangerous to keep mortals close to him. Eventually, they will fade, and he will be left alone.

Alone, suffering; his greatest asset is his greatest curse.

He knows Rose is worried. She has learned to read him as well as he has learned to read her, and try as he might, he never can hide anything from her, in this form and in the previous. And because of this, he has seen her searching glances, the flickers of hope when small traits of the previous him come out, and the disappointment when she realizes that he isn't the man she is looking for. He's learned to ignore those moments. Just like he's learned to ignore her multiple flings, the way she still can't let go of Mickey, and the way his heart flutters when she talks just so and sticks her tongue between her teeth. He isn't certain which feelings were his and which were leftover from his previous self, yet; it hasn't been long since the regeneration, and he can still feel his previous self lurking in the back of his conscious, sill unwilling to let go of what he had gained for so short a time. He is pelted with memories whenever his control is at its lowest, especially when she is near; memories of them dancing, the way her hair shone in the sunlight, her laughter, her eyes shining with trust and excitement whenever she looks at him. The memories burn brightly, feverishly, in his mind, and he is scared to let them go, for if he does, he's scared she will fade along with them.

"Doctor?"

Her voice is shy, and for a moment he wonders if he is hearing things. But no, there's the gentle sound of her breathing, and he draws comfort. She, at least, is alive. The paper in his hands burns him, and he quickly puts it in his jacket pocket, where it burns above his heart. She didn't need to know this pain, and with effort he smooths his features.

"Rose? Did you finish showing Mickey around?"

Her hesitance causes his other heart to clench for a moment. She didn't trust him. How could she? He had willingly thrown away everything he had with her to save a woman he barely knew and only just met. Her reluctance to open up only proves that he is setting himself up to become broken once more. Without her, he is nothing. Already, he is dying. A flicker of remorse crosses her face as she meets his gaze for a moment; she turns her head away and shuffles slightly closer, the door shutting softly behind her.

"The TARDIS is showing him around. I . . . wanted to see if you were ok."

There's more than she's telling him, but he doesn't want to press her. He's hurt her enough today, and he wonders if he hasn't hurt himself in the process. Her progress across the room is slow, and when she sits down beside him she refuses to meet his eyes. He looks at the floor. He can't bring himself to see just how much he has hurt her, for he knew that if he looked, he would break all over again. Timelines are running through his head, but for once he shies away. He's scared to see where it ends up, because if it ended without Rose . . . he doesn't want to go there. He swallows back his fear and tries to put up a brave front, collecting himself as much as he can and holding the broken shards of himself gingerly.
"I'm fine, Rose. Not the first time this has happened."

He had almost lost her, after all, and he had nearly let it happen. Rose was more important than anything in this universe. He would -will- destroy worlds, blow up suns, and break the fabric of reality, if it meant he could see her one more time. And he would protect her, even from himself if the need arose. She didn't need to know, didn't deserve to know, the pain he felt over this, for nearly losing her again, and losing Reinette. One, or the other. The choice, he knew, had already been made, despite his wish otherwise. Time was always its own master, and it had long ago decided the outcome. That didn't mean he hadn't stopped fighting. And in trying to change Time's design, it had dealt a far harsher punishment than he had anticipated. It was a warning, and an effective one. He broke a little more. If that had been Rose, how more severe would it have been, for both of them?
"You loved her, didn't you?"

Her question startles him out of his thoughts, and he stares at her in amazement and a touch of fear. Loved her? Yes, he certainly admired Reinette, but love . . . his breath quickens ever so slightly. There had been many admirable talents that had drawn him to her, but love wasn't one of them. She was brave, for one. The way she stood her ground against her childhood nightmares, keeping calm when everyone around her panicked. She had an inner strength that came from knowing who she was and what her limits were, present even at childhood when she confronted the clockwork robot. She was smart, for she had figured out that she could touch his memories as well far quickly than anyone else whenever he went into her mind, and accepted that there was a world other than hers. She was adventurous, not even hesitating to agree to travel with him. And she was . . . oh, stars, she was just like Rose. Different face, different time, but the two women were one and the same. Brave, beautiful, and trusting him implicitly yet never hesitating to cover his back. They could have been sisters, twins even, and he hadn't even realized it. The despair of losing Reinette had only been shaped from his fear of losing Rose. It was a future that could be waiting for her. He broke again, the shards reflecting the storm inside his soul.

"She died too young. I could have saved her . . . but I didn't get there in time."

What if he couldn't save Rose in time? Could he live with himself, knowing he had let her die? Would he be able to? He studies her even as she resolutely refuses to meet his eyes, and even being this close to her he still feels lost (her reflection is shown in the shards of his soul; he sees tears falling down her cheek, and he can't stop them). He needs her, he realizes; he needs her now more than ever. Losing Reinette was not punishment, nor was it a warning against trying to change the timeline; it was a warning to never let Rose go, for that punishment would be more agonizing and tortuous than any he has ever received. He begins to reach for her hand when she glances at him, his hope rising, but stops when she looks away again, pain in her eyes. He swallows, studying her face, knowing that what he sees there will hurt but trying anyway. When she replies, her voice is beginning to gain back some of the life it once had, and he feels a spark when her hand reaches up to lightly rest on his arm.

"I understand. I've lost someone I've loved, too."

His hope falters for a bit. He knows only two men that she could be talking about- her father and his past self. He knows it's not the former. She has reconciled with that, forgiven him, and has accepted the fact that there is nothing she can do about it. Once more, he remembers her searching expression, the uncertainty with which she had looked upon him when he first regenerated. The way she sometimes spoke of their past adventures with a wistful little smile, and then falter when he speaks about it as if he was there (and he was, just not in this body, and she can't yet accept that). He opens his mouth to speak, lets it close, and then forges ahead. His hand covers hers, the anchor to sanity and hope and life.

"You still see him when you look at me, don't you?"

It hurts to ask, but he has to know. Her answer could make or break him. If only she knew how much he depended on her, how much he expected her to be there to either support him or hold him back? Without her, he would have been lost. She sets him straight, clears his vision and focuses his mind on what's important (Her). He's fearful of the answer. If she says yes, it will break him again, for he can never go back and she can never go forward; he will drift further and further away, and his hearts will break again. The letter in his pocket is still burning, reminding him of what he can lose, and warning him that even she can share Reinette's fate. But if she says no, he will break more, for as much as the truth will hurt, the lie will be even worse (for he knows that she will be doing it for his sake, trying to protect him, when it is he that should be protecting her).

"I do. It's just . . . hard to accept that he died. For me."

She knew. Oh, stars, she knew exactly what he was going through. She couldn't do anything to stop his regeneration, just like he couldn't stop Reinette from going to a place he can never follow. This realization, this clarity, swells through him, and when she looks at him he knows that she understands. She may not accept, but she understands the sacrifice. That more than anything breaks the storm inside of him and clears his worries (oh, if only she knew the power she held over him!). He smiles reassuringly, telling her without words that he understands, and squeezes her hand. That she was willing to give him a try even as her heart was torn in two buoys him up further. She was worth this pain. She was worth the shattering of his soul and heart, for she would be there to fix him.

"When someone's in love, consequences aren't important. Protecting them is."

There's a flicker of . . . something in her eyes, and he watches as the walls she has built around her heart tremble, and shatter. Something connects within her, and the pain floods out of her. She buries her head in his shoulder, and he pulls her tight. The motion is second nature, and he feels himself slowly being put back together, even though she doesn't realize her power yet. Just by holding her he is reassured that she is still alive, and will continue to be for as long as he is there for her. He lets out a silent sigh, the inhales and breathes her in. It's perfect.

"I loved him. I loved him. God, I loved him . . ."

Her confession finally chases away the few lingering clouds. They had danced around the issue so long, and now the elephant in the room has vanished. She has let down all her walls, all her uncertainties and fears, and in this moment he knows that he cannot shield himself from her ever again. Until she came to terms with herself he wasn't capable of trying to start where they had left off. Now, she has given in. He smiles again, and decides that its time he returned the favor. She deserves to know why he had done these things, after all. She deserves to know just how far he will go for her.

"She reminded me of you, Rose-Strong, beautiful, different. Losing her made me scared of losing you."

She reads the hidden meaning, he knows she does. He can feel it in the way her shuddering stops, and her breathing changes from shaky to slow and purposeful. And she changes. He can feel her mind making the connections, and knows the instant they are made when she laughs breathlessly and puts her arms around him, as if he is the only lifeline she has. He is finally at peace, for the first time since his regeneration, and the one prior; now that she is here, he doesn't have to worry about what goes on outside the TARDIS. All that matters is right here and right now.

"I won't ever leave you, no matter how much you change or how dangerous the situation. You're my Doctor."

And her words send his soul flying, having forgotten that it had ever been broken in the first place. She has given him wings, and he flies up, up, and up, past the clouds and bathing in sunshine. He can see for miles and miles, Time surrounding him and flashing past him in milliseconds, but all he cares about is the one thread of time that connects him to Rose. He throws the other threads away and eagerly latches on to theirs, the two threads intertwined and so tightly fused together he can't tell where one ends and the other begins. They were meant to be together, two parts of a whole, and without her he would simply unravel and break.

"And you're my Rose."

The words release him further, and his eyes meet hers. The sunlight within him is so strong he knows that it should hurt, but instead it feeds him, giving him strength. He can feel her sun burning as well, and together they break what little remains of the stormy cage that once surrounded him. Now it's open skies and endless horizons, and he lets himself fly. He bends down, reveling in his freedom, and presses his lips to hers. There is no hesitation as she responds, and together they fly up and up and up. He feels the sun searing through him even as the rushing wind cools him down, and knows he can fly with her in his arms forever. Kissing her feels like home; she is the comfort of a roaring fire after a cold day, the beauty of the silver forest as the sun turns the leaves a fiery gold, the power of Time and the safety of the TARDIS. He feels oceans crashing against the shoreline in white-foamed frenzy as volcanoes spew forth their rage and anger, and the gentle kisses of snowflakes as they drift lazily downwards in a soft spiral to land on rosy cheeks and noses. He feels passion and desire and safety and excitement, all wrapped together and hurtling through the vortex to an unknown and eagerly awaited destination. He feels like all his experience, all the memories and travelling that he has done in his past lives have led him to this moment, this one perfect, infinite, life-changing moment. Now he is free, free of the burden that he has carried for far too long, knowing that his crimes have been pardoned and forgiven. He hears Rose make a small noise at the back of her throat, feels one hand tangled desperately in his hair and the other clinging to his waist, and knows that he is holding on to her in much the same fashion. In her arms, he is safe, and the only thing that lets him end the kiss is the knowledge that he no longer has to fear losing her; for how can you lose something that has always been yours? His sun shines brighter, and his smile mirrors hers (for his world revolves around her, and his light only draws upon the power of her own).

"You don't know how long I've waited for that."

Her words make him laugh, for he has wanted that for so long. She joins in, and he knows that they will make it. The look in her eyes assures him that she has finally accepted what she has known all along, that he is her Doctor and the same man as the other, and fully capable of doing the same things he had done and more. He leans forward slightly to rest his forehead against hers, staring into her shining brown eyes, and sees himself in them. That image reassures him; the clarity that was spreading throughout his soul was as vivid and real as the woman in his arms. She had healed him, again. Oh, stars, this moment is so perfect and right and fantastic that he never wants it to end.

"Rose Tyler, you took the words right out of my mouth."

To prove it, he kisses her again. He feels his previous self relaxing in the back of his mind, satisfied that he and Rose would still be together. Big ears smiles, whispers in his mind, and fades into memories. He lets him. He is in charge of this body, of this lifetime, and he was going to make every second with Rose Tyler count. His mind's shields are lowered, and he reaches out with a shout of joy to blend his thoughts with hers. For one pure moment, he is complete, spiritually, physically, and mentally, and he tumbles through the sky with her as their thoughts and feelings become one.

I love you.

The words reverberate through him, through his mind and hers, coursing through his being. His doubts about the validity of their feelings banish. Whatever residue that was left over from Big Ears is now gone, and he is certain that this love- this wonderful, pure feeling- is his and his alone. He feels alive, so alive, unlike anything he has experienced in his past nine lives. The words are singing to him, thrumming through his body, giving him a feeling of euphoria. He looks into her eyes, and sees eternity spiraling away. They would always be together, mind, soul, and body. Lingering gazes that smolder with unexplored fires, gentle touches that spark hidden passions, and struggled breathing that whisper of greater things to come; all are tinged and fed off of this new feeling. He smiles again, cradling her head in one hand, pulling her closer.

She molds against him, and Time ceases to exist.

The companion piece to Acceptance, this time in the Doctor's point of view.

This was honestly the reason I wrote these stories. Not only to understand Rose's reaction, but to understand why the Doctor did what he did. And honestly, he was easier to write.

Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading~