A/N: I seem to have a thing for mixing music with Doctor Who. This fic was inspired by a song called "Uncover" by ridiculously talented singer Zara Larsson. I'm also fairly proud to report that while it started out with me being possessed by Moffat, I managed to exorcise him in time to get a happy ending. Celebration all around!

Disclaimer: I still do not own Doctor Who.

1. Uncovered

A beach, much like the one where her life had been ruined and rebuilt. Her feet sink into the sand, taking her ever closer to the figure ahead. Part of her already knows it's him, while another part of her thrills with surprise when she can finally make out his blue pinstripe suit and his unkempt hair. She breaks into a sprint, eager to close the distance and throw her arms around his neck and never let go of him, never lose him again. His face is unaffected, showing neither joy, nor sorrow. But she knows it will, knows that any second now that mouth will split into a grin so big it will light up this dreary beach.

And then she runs right through him. It's as if the wind is knocked out of her. No. Not again. She doubles back, only to find he is still standing in the same position, only now he's turned opaque, and she can see the waterline through him. No. No no no no no. Hope is drained out of her, replaced by despair. Circling him, she finds herself face to face with him, tears already welling.

"Why?" she exclaims, fighting the sobs that threaten to rack her body.

The mirage says nothing, it looks at her, through her, its gaze fixed on some point in the distance. She wants to hit him, wants to reach through the dimensions and pull him into this one and hit him repeatedly for once again leaving her, abandoning her in this world with no chance of ever getting him back. She buries her face in her hands, letting the tears flow freely as the first whimpers escape her.

"Rose."

His voice, a whisper on the wind, stabs at her attention, and she doesn't want to look up. It's all the same, nothing will have changed. It will be another improper goodbye where hugs and meaningful words will be substituted with pain and incomplete sentences. None of it's been real. Just her bloody luck.

"Rose."

Her knees buckle, sending her crashing into the cold, damp sand. She spies his maroon trainers between tears, and her heart splinters when she realizes they're not leaving a print in the sand. It's the final evidence of his non-existence, and not even her deepest denial can wave this off. He will fade soon, and she will be alone again. Some fighter she turned out to be. Defender of the Earth, indeed.

"Go away," she whispers shakily, unable to move from her crouched position. She doesn't want to see him fade, not again, not here, not ever. "Go away. Go away…"

"Rose!

He shakes her awake, and she flies up, gasping for air. She shakes, trying to catch her breath, and he tries to get his arms around her. It usually helps, holding her close and forcing her rapid breathing into sync with his own, steady rhythm. He pulls her close, locks her in his embrace with her back to his chest and plants soft, reassuring kisses on her neck.

It's been happening on and off for three months; nightmares that plague his beautiful Rose and scare him almost as much as they terrify her. It's always the same, with slight variations on a constant theme. She dreams he is not real, that he vanishes in front of her eyes, or she wakes up convinced that the events leading up to them reuniting never happened. Whatever the dream, she wakes up crying, thinking she is utterly alone. There are good nights, when she blissfully sleeps through the night, visited neither by dreams, nor nightmares. And then there are nights like these, when the good nights seem like dreams themselves. She will shoot out of bed, disoriented and in a panic, and he will have to convince her that he is real and help calm her down.

His heart, and he's only got one now, breaks a little bit every single time.

Tonight is worse. She can't slow down her breathing, her grasp on his arms are like claws as she in her own twisted way tries to reaffirm that he is really there. He tries to talk to her, but she is far beyond listening to reason. She finally breaks out of his embrace, pulls on a long jumper, and tugs at his arms, dragging him out of bed. Her rapid breaths and quiet whimpers echo eerily as she runs through the mansion with him in tow. He's not exactly sure what's going to happen, but he follows her through the large house and out the door to the back yard. She crosses it in the darkness until she finds what she's looking for. The sandbox Pete built for Tony's last birthday. Rose steps in, nudging aside the buckets and shovels and toy cars, then looks at him, the silent request clear in her eyes. Not entirely sure what to make of it, he hesitantly steps in, feeling the coarse sand beneath his feet and between his toes.

He's just about to ask what is wrong, why they're outside, when she gives the deepest sigh of relief he has ever heard. It's as if all the troubles in the world have been weighing on her shoulders, and now, finally, this simple moment has lifted them. Her breathing gradually steadies, and she leans into him, allowing him to hold her. He's not quite sure what to say, so he opts for not saying anything. Instead, he rubs circles on her back and just listens.

"I'm sorry," she finally whispers into his t-shirt.

He plants a kiss on her forehead. It's his way of saying he doesn't mind this, not really. So long as he can keep her safe, keep her happy. She sniffles and looks up at him, her cheeks painted with tear streaks. She looks so vulnerable it makes him want to hold her tighter.

"You had no footprints." She pauses for a second, before she continues. "In my dreams… You were there, and then it was… You had no footprints, because… You weren't there, Doctor, not really."

She tries to explain it to him, fiddling with the neckline of his shirt. He smiles a bit, it's the first time she's called him 'Doctor'. The trip to the sandbox also makes sense. At the same time it saddens him that she still needs this, this reaffirmation of his existence in her life. He takes a step back so she can take good look at his very real, very much existing footprints in the dusky night. Turning her around slowly, he guides her backwards, until she's standing in them. His feet are by no means large, but they still seem so big with her feet inside his footprints.

"I'm always here," he whispers in her ear. "Always with you, always by your side."

Rose tilts her head slightly, catching his lips in a kiss. It's by no means fiery or passionate. Just a simple kiss, sweet and affirming. She believes him.

"I'm so sorry," she apologizes again as they walk back towards the mansion. "You've got your big day tomorrow…"

"I'm turning in my papers to Torchwood to get a proper name," the Doctor interrupts her. He doesn't want her to beat herself up over this any more than she already is. "I don't think they will judge me if I happen to look a bit tired."

It's taken some nagging and a few dirty tricks, but he's finally agreed to let Torchwood create an identity for him. He will eventually need to get a job, and even if he was to apply to Torchwood, he needs to have personal information on file, and he has been told "The Doctor" simply won't do. Then there is the added pressure of dating Rose Tyler. She isn't simply Rose Tyler (not that she has even been simply anything to him before); here she is Rose Tyler, heiress to Vitex Industries, the mysterious daughter of entrepreneur Pete Tyler. The newspapers had a field day when she turned up out of the blue, and the tabloids have already featured Rose's "mysterious beau" in a few articles. Sooner or later they need to find something, and it's better for everyone if it's something Torchwood has compiled.

"Can I ask what you settled on?"

"D'you reckon Lord Slitheen, second Earl of Jagrafess is a bit too much?"

The last shreds of sadness and agony leave her features as she breaks into a grin, and it makes him so indescribably happy to see her smile.

"You might have some trouble convincing them, seeing as the monarchy hasn't been around for many years."

"And who said I was a British earl?" he counters with a waggle of his eyebrows. "You, Rose Tyler, might just have fallen for a handsome earl from a far off country."

"Because only Britain has earls, silly," she points out matter-of-factly.

"Ah. That was unfortunate. Well, at least we were knighted in the other universe."

"And promptly banished. And I seem to recall you referring to me as a timorous beastie, Sir Doctor of TARDIS." She puts a somewhat sarcastic emphasis on his title.

"You still are, Dame Rose of Powell Estate."

She smacks him good-naturedly. It's still a bit weird, talking about the life she had in the other universe, with the other Doctor. This Doctor, with his one single heart, still feels a bit foreign at times. It's him, the other him, but still not, and it frazzles her brain if she thinks about it too much. Still, he has stayed, through her nighttime terrors when all her fears and paranoias are laid bare, tonight more than ever. She has decided it's him. The Doctor would stay with her.

And so he has.

A/N: Happy happy fun times, yes? Yes! Please review to earn my undying love! ^^