A quick drabble - the Doctor's thoughts when he sees that Rose's face has been taken.

"Found another one, sir." The man who had punched the Doctor earlier came into the office, leading a blanket-covered person through the door with him.

"Oh, good man, Crabtree." Detective Inspector Bishop acknowledged. "Here we are, Doctor. Take a good look, see what you can deduce." The Detective Inspector was desperate for some help, that much was obvious to the Doctor. Taking people out of their homes, scaring their families and their neighbors…they obviously had no idea what was happening.

Neither did he. Yet. But he would find out.

Because the Doctor did not allow people to be taken from their homes by people known, to have their faces stolen (presumably by an alien that was still managing to hide – he didn't know how it had escaped him, but he would find it).

The Doctor slowly made his way over to the grey-covered form, taking in the pink hem of a skirt and pink shoes that were very, very familiar. He felt his hearts start to race in his chest, and in that moment he knew exactly what would happen next. He knew exactly what he would see when the man lifted the blanket from the still form, though his mind fought against the very thought that any harm would come to his companion, to his friend, to the girl that he loved. The man, Crabtree, lifted the blanket to reveal the Doctor's worst nightmare.

It was Rose. Or had been Rose. "Rose," he breathed quietly, horror written on the features of his face. He felt as though ice water was shooting through his veins, an ice-cold rage that was consuming him, all of him. He looked at where he should have seen Rose's tongue-touched smile, her molten honey gaze, and her pink cheeks. And instead there was nothing. There, standing before him, was a shell of Rose – a faceless, personless body that had been his friend.

"Do you know her?" The Detective Inspector asked.

"Know her? She's…" his companion? His friend? The love of his lives? There were no words to describe what Rose was to him. She was everything. And now she was an empty shell of a person.

The Doctor didn't hear the rest of the conversation going on behind him. All of his senses were focused on his faceless companion. He wanted to touch her hand, brush hair away from her face, tell her it was going to be all right.

Because he would save her.

But now, as he looked at her, he had no control over his body. He felt his face contort in an angry grimace, felt the Storm start to brew in his mind. Rage roared in his ears, blocking any other sound, and his vision started to turn red. He felt his hearts pumping with adrenaline and anger. He was supposed to protect her, and somewhere, at the back of his mind, he found his failure, sweeping its way through all his thoughts, infiltrating his rage and making it much, much worse.

This girl had absorbed the Time Vortex to save him. The girl that had put herself in danger to save him so many times - the girl he had faced down Cybermen, Raxacoricofalapatorians, the Jagrafess, and the Gelth with.

The girl that had shown sympathy to a Dalek.

And now she didn't have a face.

Because he'd stopped watching her. He'd left her.

This was his fault.

But if anything, he was quite certain, without a doubt, that whoever had done this would pay, because this was his Rose.

Suddenly, something the DI said caught his attention. "They did what?" The Doctor interrupted, his voice dangerously low. Earth better pray that he had not heard what he thought he'd just heard. If one stupid ape had left her…

"I'm sorry?" The DI asked. The Doctor could not see him – in fact, he'd barely remembered the man's presence, but he could imagine the look that would be on his face at the change in the Doctor's tone.

Rage was starting to fill the Doctor's mind, taking over his being. "They left her where?"

"Just…in the street."

"In the street." The Doctor repeated at a whisper. "They left her in the street. They took her face and just chucked her out and left her in the street." He took a deep breath, unblinking, still looking at his Rose. A sort of calm started to fill him – the calm before the storm, a calm that came from an incredible amount of rage. A calm that was the complete opposite of calm "And as a result, that makes things…simple. Very, very simple." So simple, in fact, that is was the simplest thought that he'd ever thought. Whatever had taken Rose's face, whoever had left her in the street should not expect to live through the day. He took off his glasses and turned to face the two men. "Do you know why?"

"No," Bishop replied.

"Because now, Detective inspector Bishop," the Doctor snarled out the detective inspector's name with hatred and rage. His anger was no longer limited to the alien that had Rose's face. No. He was angry with the entirety of the whole bloody human race.

"There is no power on this earth that can stop me."