For the absolutely amazing and wonderful and patient madmaninachevyimpala on tumblr who requested this like...six months ago. Maybe longer. I hope this is worth the wait, Sable!
Warnings: Major Character Death (angst was requested okay), largely takes place in a hospital
John hated his soulmark. He'd hated it ever since he was old enough to know what it meant, that the words printed in a messy hand across his forearm were the last words his soulmate would say to him.
I think this is the end of our story. I love you.
He hated endings. He tore out the last pages of books and avoided goodbyes, trying to stave off the pain that he knew he'd have to face up to one day. Something in him yearned for the person that was supposed to be the other half of his soul but he dreaded meeting them when he knew he would lose them one day, when he knew the words scrawled on his arm would break his heart into tiny pieces.
When John met Rose Tyler he instantly knew she would be the one who would tear him to shreds with just a few words and he couldn't bring himself to care. For there to be an ending to their story, there had to be a beginning and that was something he treasured above anything.
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It was just an ordinary, rainy Friday, a nondescript setting for the beginning of the story that would define John's whole world. He stopped in at a coffee shop for a scone and a cup of coffee on his way to the campus lab where he did research and there was a new barista behind the counter. She was all blonde hair and brilliant smiles and he was a tiny bit smitten before he even got to the counter.
"Hello, what can I get for you today?"
John stumbled through his normal order and then fumbled with his wallet, dropping it twice while trying to get his card out because his hands were shaking and he was trying to cover it up with overly exaggerated movements.
The barista giggled and the sound made his heart soar. "Are you sure you need more caffeine?"
"Haven't had any yet today," John confided, finally handing his card over with a flourish.
"Then should I be concerned for what will happen when you do have caffeine?"
"Maybe worry for my grad assistants who have to deal with me."
"You a professor, then?" she asked, eyes flitting down from his face to take in the tweed jacket and bowtie.
"Of sorts," John answered, flapping his hands around vaguely.
"Bit of a mystery then, aren't you?" She paused, gave him a smile with the tip of her tongue caught betwixt her teeth. "I do like that in a man."
John practically choked on his tongue. He could never quite remember what he said to her in that moment but it made her laugh and that was what he was aiming for.
Far too quickly, she handed his card back to him and gave him the bag with his scone and told him to have a nice day and that she hoped he'd be back soon. He tripped as he left the coffee shop when he tried to smile at her one last time. Luckily he didn't spill his drink and he was rewarded with another laugh from the blonde angel at the register.
It wasn't until he was halfway to the lab that he realized there was a phone number scrawled on his paper cup in a handwriting that looked all too familiar.
He shot off a text to her as soon as he saw the number and they made plans to meet up that night for chips so they could get to know each other better.
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Two months later, John couldn't even remember what life was like before he knew the name Rose Tyler. All he knew was that the world seemed brighter with her in it and there was enough love in him to fill two hearts. After that first outing for chips, they ended up texting almost non-stop for the next week and John had drank more coffee than he had in the previous two years combined in an effort to see Rose as much as possible.
His students teased him when he answered a text while grinning at his phone while he was in the lab. He didn't care, Rose had become his everything, his entire universe, and he wanted to make sure she knew it.
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Three months in, Rose told him she loved him and the words didn't scare him like they had before.
(He said them back, whispered them in her ear as they lie curled around each other in his bed.)
They'd been dating for seven months when they moved in together.
Two years after they met, they went to the courthouse and formalized their union in the eyes of the law.
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John never forgot the words on his arm, he couldn't. He woke up screaming in the night sometimes from nightmares of Rose saying them to him. The good outweighed the bad though and he figured he should enjoy the happiness while it lasted.
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(He had nightmares of Rose's words as well, the ones that were emblazoned on her right hip in his handwriting.)
(No, Rose, please stay. I love you, too.)
(They never talked about their marks and how they seemed to match. Never discussed the fact that according to their marks Rose would leave one day, one way or another.)
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They had seven years of happiness together before disaster struck. He was at his lab when he got a phone call from Rose's phone.
"Rose, I'm still in the lab," he said tucking his mobile between his shoulder and his ear as he continued gathering supplies for his next experiment.
"Mr. Smith?"
John's blood ran cold. "Who is this? Why do have Rose's phone?"
"I'm Doctor Martha Jones at the Royal Hope Hospital. I'm sorry to have to tell you this but your wife is here and she's in critical condition. I suggest you get down here immediately."
The equipment in John's hands tumbled to the floor. He paid no mind to the shattering glass around him or the questioning shouts of his colleagues as he raced out the door. Dimly he registered Doctor Jones telling him that Rose had been hit by a car as she crossed the street and that the driver hadn't stopped.
(He couldn't even process the fact that that was exactly what had happened to her father when she was baby. He remembered holding her as she cried one night and told him about the father she'd never known.)
He was at the hospital fifteen minutes after his phone rang and was immediately shown to Rose's bedside.
"It's not good," Doctor Jones said as soon as she saw him and verified who he was. "We don't know when or if she'll wake up."
At any other time John would appreciate the fact that the doctor wasn't beating around the bush, that she wasn't sacrificing kindness in her effort, but right now all he wanted was to see Rose.
She had to wake up, she had to pull through this. He needed her.
This couldn't be the end.
He stayed by the side of her bed clutching her hand for hours as the machines around them beeped. Sometimes he talked, telling her he needed her to open her eyes, to come back to him, that she'd promised him forever and he was counting on her to keep that promise.
Most of the time he stayed silent, head bowed as he stared at the matching gold bands on their hands.
The nurses that peeked in didn't even try to send him away when visiting hours ended. One glare had the single nurse that tried skittering away in fear.
It was three in the morning when he saw Rose's eyes flutter open. The machines around her started beeping more quickly, revealing the effort it took for her to be conscious.
"Hey," she croaked out when she finally managed to focus on him.
"Hello," he whispered back, tears clogging his voice. "You scared me."
"Didn't mean to."
"I know," John rasped out. "How are you feeling?"
"Can't really feel anything. They must have me on the good drugs," Rose said. Her lips twitched up at the corners and his heart twisted. Even now she was trying to smile at him, trying to comfort him. That was his Rose in a nutshell, always putting others first.
He'd looked at her IVs while she was out and the painkillers she was on weren't nearly strong enough to block out all of her pain. He couldn't stop the tears from leaking out of his eyes any more than he could turn back time to prevent this from ever happening.
John squeezed her hand, too choked up to say anything.
"It's bad isn't it. That's why I can't feel anything," Rose said, watching his face closely.
His chin remained close to his chest but he looked up at her, face almost childish in its picture of grief and worry despite the lines that were starting to be etched into his skin. "Yeah. The doctor wasn't sure you'd even wake up."
"I'm awake." The words slurred together and the machines picked up their pace again.
"Rose, Rose, stay with me. I need you to stay with me." His voice cracked as he pleaded with his beloved.
"We knew something like this was going to happen someday, John. I made my choice a long time ago and I was never going to leave you if I had a say in it."
Her voice was weakening with every second.
"You can't go, Rose. I don't know what I'll do without you," he confessed.
"You'll keep being you," she said. "You're strong enough to do that."
"I don't know that I am."
"You are. Just keep being the man that I love and you'll be okay." She paused, struggling to draw in a breath. "Promise me you'll be okay when I'm gone."
John choked back a sob. "I promise that I'll try."
"Good enough," she answered with another small smile.
There was a brief moment of silence where neither of them knew what to say.
(What could you say in the face of all-encompassing grief? What words could force themselves out of a body that felt like it was being weighed down by the entire universe?)
(What could John do when the woman he loved, the one he'd orbited around for seven years was dying in front of him? What could he do when he could feel the gravity that kept him in orbit diminishing with every passing second, leaving him to start floating off into the dark, cold embrace of deep space?)
"I'm so tired." Rose's eyes started fluttering shut.
"No, don't close your eyes, love. Look at me, please."
She forced them open, brown staring into green, love and grief mixing until they were interchangeable.
"John, I think this is it."
No. This couldn't be. He wasn't ready. He'd never be ready for this.
"I know you don't like endings, John, but at least we made our story a good one, right?"
"We did. It was the best, Rose."
"I think this is the end of our story."
John's heart broke, shattered. The words he'd lived with for thirty-five years were finally being said by the woman he loved and it was every nightmare come to life. He was supposed to have a whole lifetime with her, decades to write their story before it had to end.
She saw all of the emotions playing over his face and turned her hand so she could squeeze his. Rose met his eyes and finished the words she'd always been fated to say. "I love you."
The answering words bubbled out of John's mouth without any conscious thought. "No, Rose, please stay." A sob escaped his mouth as he clung to her hand for dear life. He raised it to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her palm before clutching it to his cheek. "I love you, too."
Rose's smile was wider this time, still as brilliant as sunshine and full of love as she gazed at him. She lost the battle to keep her eyes open and as soon as they closed the machines around them went crazy.
Nurses flooded into the room, pushing John out of the way in their efforts to revive Rose. He let himself be guided, lost in his own head as grief rolled through him in waves. She was gone and nothing made sense. People were walking by him like nothing had changed, like the color hadn't just completely drained out of the world and he didn't understand.
(He was adrift now, no longer tethered to the bright star that had been Rose. The light was gone. She was gone and he was alone in the universe.)
(This was so much worse than he had ever imagined. His heart wasn't in shreds or in pieces. Half of it was gone.)
He collapsed into a chair and put his head in his hands and gave himself over to the tears.