AN: This is based on a story by my friend Lisa called Wrap the Night Around Me. In it, the Doctor has a series of telepathic dreams about Rose post Journey's End. The final dream is of her death. I wanted to write a sequel where he started to heal.

It had been weeks since the Doctor last dreamed. Weeks since Mars, weeks since he saw the Ood and knew his time was running out.

Weeks since he dreamed of Rose dying in the arms of his half-human self.

And now it was almost over. The four knocks came, as he had been warned—though he'd never imagined Wilf would be the one knocking. The old man's selfless offer to die so the Doctor could live had scared him, scared him because he had been tempted to take him up on it.

That was when he stepped into the radiation chamber, when he realised he was willing to let another man die. How had he fallen so far from the man he used to be?

In his hearts, he knew the answer. Knew he was telling the brutal truth when he told Rose on that beach that he needed her. He couldn't be the Doctor without her. She made him better.

He took a farewell tour, giving each of his friends one last gift before he departed. The whole time, as the radiation burned through his body, he fought the urge to visit Rose. Crossing her timeline like that was dangerous. She hadn't recognised him when he'd regenerated, so he couldn't let her see him.

On the other hand, he'd watched her die. He had felt the last breath leave her body, seen her eyes close for the final time. Wasn't it only fair that she watch him die in return?

The TARDIS didn't complain when he set the coordinates, but he didn't bother to question that. Why would she argue? He was a Time Lord—he could bend time to his will.

But when he saw her, standing in the warm glow of the streetlight, he knew why the TARDIS hadn't fought. She'd known that one glimpse of Rose Tyler would remind him of who he was, just like she'd done for him when they'd met.

He tried to leave, but a grunt of pain escaped his lips and caught Rose's attention. And oh, the smile and concern on her face warmed part of his hearts that had been cold since he watched her fall into a parallel universe. Rose Tyler cared—she always cared so much.

With his regeneration only minutes away, the Doctor's time senses were even more active than usual. Rose's timeline was open to him in a way it never had been before, and he sucked in a breath at the brilliance of it. She was a single line that expanded into golden light that stretched to every corner of time and space.

Bad Wolf.

She smiled at him one last time before she turned away, and the Doctor knew he would carry the memory of that smile in his hearts forever. Rose would never be gone, not really. Her light would always be there for him, even in the darkest of times.

Even as he stumbled back to the TARDIS, sung home by the Ood, he felt lighter now than he had in months. Years, if he was honest. He marvelled at her ability to heal him, to draw him back to who he was.

The regeneration energy that had been rippling beneath his skin pulsed now, and suddenly, doubts swept over him. Would Rose still be there, even when he changed? Or would he be lost again, left without her light?

"I don't want to go."

But even as the words escaped him on a whimper, light exploded out of him and he knew. New, new, new Doctor, but the same light, there for him always. See you, she'd told him, just a moment ago, but it was him who would always be seeing her.