Her phone was ringing. The shrill ring tone echoing through her head. Odd. Her phone didn't work in this universe. She reached for it, scanning the screen through bleary eyes. The TARDIS, the screen read. She sat bolt upright, pressing the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" she squeaked.

"Rose," came a voice through the phone. An oh so familiar voice that she had missed the sound of for so long. She whimpered.

"Yes?"

"Finally," he sighed, "I've been trying to call you for months. At least I think it's months. Never can tell. But I, um, want to talk to you. Just to hear your voice again. I've missed it. It's so beautiful, and I think I'm rambling. Rose, are you still there?" She sniffled.

"Yeah. I've missed your voice, too, Doctor. It's comforting to have you rambling in my ear again. Reminds me of home," she smiled. He could hear the smile in her voice. He smiled himself at her casual mention of the TARDIS as home. "You know, you woke me up this morning. Just like old times. I woke up to the sound of your voice," she paused, "How did you get it to work? My phone doesn't work in Pete's world. But when you called me, it rang. Time Lord skills, eh?" He nodded his head, then realized she couldn't see.

"I suppose." He could hear her giggling through the phone. "Rose, are you laughing at me? You oughtn't do that. It's rude, you know," but her laughter was contagious and he was already laughing with her.

"Doctor," she giggled, "What did you wanna tell me? I know you called to hear my voice, but you said you wanted to talk to me. What about?" Her voice had turned serious. The Doctor's giggles stopped.

"Rose? You remember Bad Wolf Bay? You remember how I was cut off half-way through my sentence? I wanted to tell you how the sentence would have ended had we been able to finish," his voice was quiet, almost timid.

She could picture him now. The TARDIS phone cord stretched all the way around the console, the end of which was pressed firmly to his ear. He was sinking into the jumpseat, running a hand through his hair, tugging on his ear. He'll have his feet crossed, resting on the edge of the console. He might reach forward and flick a few switches needlessly. Slowly, she remembered how she would have comforted him when he was in this situation. She would have stepped into the room, seen him in this state, and sank onto the jumpseat next to him. She would have placed a hand on his knee, gently stroking it, the same way he stroked the TARDIS. She would have lowered her voice to a soothing tone and asked what was wrong. He would try to brush it off, but she would be persistent. He would drape his arm over her shoulder and slowly, through broken sentences and questions, tell her what was bothering him. She could do none of this now. They were universes apart, with no way to get back to each other. So she lowered her voice to that tone she always used to comfort him.

"Doctor," she could feel tears springing to her eyes, "It's okay, you don't have to tell me. I understand."

"No, Rose. I have to tell you. I have to get it off my chest. It's been crushing me," he sighed.

He would be pacing around the console now, running a hand through his hair, pressing whatever buttons looked appealing. He would be pretending to scan the screen, but in actuality focusing very intently on her voice, searching for her reaction. She replayed his voice in her head.

No, he was doing none of these things. His voice gave it away. He was sitting on the jumpseat, or standing, hard to tell, he did these things so rarely. He was covering his face with his hand, his eyes watery. He would have the phone playing throughout the console room, solely focusing on her voice echoing through the room.

"Doctor, go ahead. It means a lot hearing you say it," she decided. The tears had begun to fall down her face, plopping onto the blankets covering her legs.

"Rose Tyler, I love you. With all my hearts. To the end of time itself. Through all of space. Through all of time. From the beginning of this universe to the end of the next. And even after that. Rose, I will do any and everything in my power to get you back to me. I'd like to say that it's for unselfish reasons, but I don't want to lie to you, not now. I wanna get you back so I can kiss you until I lose my breath, hold you until the universe ends. I want you, Rose Tyler. Of all the beings in the universe, throughout all of time, I want you. You are the one who caught my eye, who fixed my wounds and made me whole, who made my hearts speed up when I saw you walk into a room, who saved my life on several occasions. Rose, you are the only one I want. The only one who can make me feel this way. And, I miss you. Rose Tyler, I miss you so much it hurts. And I'm going to fix that. Is that okay, Rose?" he looked to the ceiling, one eyebrow raised in question.

She was crying. He could hear her shuddering breaths. He could picture her, sitting on her pink bed sheets, dressed in the shorts and vest she slept in. Slowly, tears are falling down her face. The covers over her crossed legs are drenched in her tears. She has dropped the phone onto the blankets. It's on speaker phone, so she can still hear him, though. She inhales deeply.

"Oh, Doctor, I love you, too. So, so much. And I miss you just as much. Of course it's, okay, love. I'll be counting the days until I see you again," she told him.

Happy tears. That's what she was crying. So humany-wumany. But who was he to talk, he could feel them wetting his own cheeks. A happy sound escaped his throat.

"Rose," he called, and she started.

"Yeah?"

"Did you call me love?" he asked, a smile overwhelming his face.

"Is there a problem with that?" she asked, worried.

"No. None at all. I think I rather like it. I think I want you to call me that more often. Hmm. Rose? Can I call you love?" his smile was huge. He could hear her giggles.

"Of course, love. Call me whatever you want. Will these calls happen quite often? Cos I think I will look forward to them. A lot," she smiled.

"You know, Rose Tyler, I think I will try my hardest to call you every day, love. You sweet voice will be the first thing I hear. Oh, Rose, look at what you've done to me. You've made me giddy just thinking about it. Waking up to your voice, your memory, your laugh. Rose Tyler, I love you," he shouted. She grinned.

"Mornin', Doctor," Jackie Tyler's voice rang through the speaker.

"Jackie!" he called, "How long have you been in there?"

"Oh, I heard Rose sniveling and I came in here. Your voice was comin' from her phone. I started listening to you through the door. I didn't know you had it in you, Doctor," she told him.

"And you approve?" he asked nervously. Jackie shook her head, smiling.

"Of course, Doctor. You've made her happier than anyone else. And I'm happy that you're going to try your hardest to get her back. I'm happy for both of you. She deserves you. Someone who would tear apart the universe to get to her, someone who actually can. And you deserve her. A girl who grew up in a little corner of London and went on to change the universe. She changed you and you changed her. So of course I approve. How could I not?" her words warmed the Doctor to his core.

She approved. Not only that, but she thought they deserved each other. He could dance with joy. He spun in a happy circle. A laugh escaped his lips. It sounded so joyful, Rose's smiled widened impossibly far.

Suddenly, the TARDIS jolted beneath the Doctor's feet.

"Rose. I'm losing you. The connection is breaking up!" he called to the ceiling, flicking switches and pressing buttons, desperately trying to fix the connection.

His voice came in broken words through the speaker of her phone. She reached for the phone, desperately.

"Doctor!" she yelled, pressing the phone to her ear, "Doctor! Come back! Please." Her voice was pleading, but her ear filled with static.

Despondent, the Doctor froze, his hands resting on the console, his head bowed in despair. The static echoed through the room.

"Spaceman, you all right?" Donna asked gently, stepping into the room. The Doctor pressed a button and the static stopped.

"'M fine," he told her, "I'm always fine." Donna rolled her eyes, but didn't argue. She sat on the jumpseat as he quietly began to pilot them away.

Rose fell backwards on her bed, her eyes filled with tears and her cheeks stained with them. Jackie sank onto the bed beside her.

"I hate the universe," Rose mumbled. Jackie shook her head.

"No you don't, sweetheart. You're just angry. And disappointed. It'll be okay," she told Rose, gently stroking her hair.

"You really think so?" she asked, her voice hopeful. Jackie smiled a sweet smile.

"I know so. You two'll find each other again."

Rose allowed herself a hopeful smile, already looking forward to that day.