These pages would still be sitting in my computer, sad and alone, if not for the help and support of WhoMe-2 (who read the outline and convinced me this was a story worth writing), and the absolutely wonderful T'Kirr (who unleashed her awesome beta-powers to keep me from looking like the illiterate idiot I really am =P). Ladies, I owe you BIG TIME. Thank youuuu!

The story takes place after Rose and the Doctor saved the universe from Davros and the Daleks. Earth has returned home and the Doctor has some extremely painful decisions to make. However, just before the Doctor gets to leave Rose and his double behind, everything changes. Blame the TARDIS for avoiding a future she just can't accept. Happy Reading! =)

CHAPTER 1. PARALLEL LIVES

Chaos raged all around them. The Doctor tried to raise himself to his knees just as the ground rumbled again, like a giant subterranean creature's dying breath, one last convulsion before it gave in. He still tasted the acrid stench carried by the smoke that was now finally clearing. Behind him he could make out the others, battered and bruised but alive. He peered through the remaining clouds of dust. There was someone missing.

'Rose!' Panic coiled in his stomach. He called out again.

Then she was suddenly there, her blond hair streaked with ashes, eyes large and dark, her entire focus on him. A second later she was in his arms and her familiar scent filled his senses. She fisted his jacket, and he once again resisted the wave of emotion that threatened to overtake him. They had fought so hard. Right now he only wanted to feel the joy. Her fingers dug into his back, conveying her own desperate need to connect.

'It's over,' he said. 'That thing is gone.'

She pushed back just enough to look at him again. Then his lips were on hers and in that moment the world was right. The Doctor clung to her, the only person in the entire universe that mattered. An eternity of this was all he needed to survive. He only acknowledged the truth when his knees started to buckle and he lost the strength to hold himself up. Rose kneeled down beside him. He clutched at his chest as a steady burning sensation spread throughout his body. He looked down at his hands, then at the dark-red patch that was slowly forming on his shirt.

It was funny, actually. He had faced Daleks and monsters and the end of the universe countless times. But he'd never envisioned a death like this.

'Rose,' he whispered, 'you…' He squeezed his eyes shut as pain wracked his body. Above them the sky was clearing, bathing the world in sunlight for the first time in days. He reached up and Rose took his hand as cool fingers touched his cheek. His lips were moving but he couldn't get the words out. The others were there now. They were talking but someone had turned off the sound. The world had gone deafeningly quiet.

Somewhere in his mind resonated a scream. He wasn't able to hear it, but the others must have, for they stood back, paralysed with shock and confusion. 'I'm not going to regenerate,' he whispered. 'You know why I can't…'

Rose only nodded and her chin trembled. He reached up again, his fingers icy now, life slowly ebbing away. As his neural pathways faltered and his mind prepared to shut down there was only one thing left he could do.

With their faces only inches apart, he uttered his final words in all of creation. When he was done he looked at Rose one last time. Her eyes were brimming with tears, but he knew she understood.

'I will,' she said. 'I promise.'

Then the Doctor died.

~x~

The TARDIS was a patient creature. Time did not have the same meaning to her as it did to those who inhabited her over the long years. Not even her favourite Time Lord knew the passage of millennia as intimately as she did, for he remained flesh and blood and prone to the distractions that burdened biological creatures. Time was her essence, the power that made her mechanical insides quiver in anticipation of forever and all that had gone before.

Still, like all matter, she was subject to decay and one day she would fail, her awareness snuffed out, her essence returned to the source. And that was fine. The TARDIS didn't contemplate mortality like shorter-lived beings would, and neither did her eccentric companion. After all, together they had run the gauntlet of Time and Space and emerged triumphantly on the other side.

Theirs was an exceptional and unique partnership. He provided her distraction and companionship, and in moments of crisis she would soothe his mind, whispering silent touches of comfort as she whisked him away from his successes or his failures. There wasn't a place in creation she wouldn't take her Time Lord, and any unavoidable lapses in judgement she forgave.

But there were limits.

Being trapped, abducted and nearly incinerated in a burning ball of fire wasn't the worst part of it. Even as the wrongness of this dreaded parallel universe ate away at her core, depleting her vast reserves of energy, the TARDIS could sense the piercing screams of Dalek-voices echoing inside her Time Lord's mind. And she knew what was to come. Even as he directed her to That Place, she knew his greatest desires and deepest fears and wept for him while he stoically prepared to do his duty. Or what he believed to be his duty.

Only moments ago there had been many presences in her console room, most of them familiar. They had left now and the TARDIS could no longer sense their thoughts; images of a windswept beach stirred anxiety in the minds of those who remained. The Time Lord was about to make the greatest mistake of his life, one that would forever haunt him, splitting his soul, darkening and twisting it, setting in motion events of a truly catastrophic nature. Deep within the heart of the sentient ship electric anger flared.

And the TARDIS did something she had never done before.

She intervened.

~x~

The TARDIS refused to budge and the Doctor had absolutely no idea why. His hands flew across the console, mathematical calculations running through his head, turning hunches into potential solutions, but to no avail. Whatever he tried, she simply ignored him. He grasped the side of the console with two hands and dipped his head in frustration. Had he been alone, it wouldn't have been as big a deal, but with the fate of his best friends in the balance it seemed like the weight of the universe was on his shoulders. Again.

The Doctor glanced up to find several anxious faces watching him: Rose, looking remarkably focused considering what they had just gone through; Donna, defiant as always, trying to hide her growing anxiety. And she was right to be worried. Being the Doctor-Donna now, she had to have an inkling of what was coming. The Doctor turned to the person behind them, Rose's Mum, Jackie, staying out of the way for once. And then there was the other one, the one the Doctor would rather forget about entirely—the one in the blue suit who made him feel like spiders were crawling up his back. The TARDIS shuddered, as if in response to his own unease.

He pointed an accusing finger at the rotor. 'Stop it.'

'She doesn't want to go.' Rose came up beside him and stroked the console, almost lovingly.

'Well, there's no way I'm going to stay here.' Jackie had snapped out of it and was now glaring at the Doctor. 'Does this damn box even have a kitchen?'

Donna kindly took Jackie by the arm, leading her away into the TARDIS interior.

'Just a hiccup,' the Doctor said to no one in particular. 'She's been through hell and back. Bound to leave a scratch or two.' He moved away from the console. 'Repairs will take a while.' He scanned the room, reasserting his authority over the situation but avoiding direct eye-contact with anyone. 'Nobody go wander off,' he said, then turned on his heels and strode away.

The Doctor left the brightness of the console room behind, but then, just out of sight, he halted. He waited for a few moments, disturbed by the silence behind him. He slowly turned around. Rose and the Metacrisis couldn't see him, but even if they had, they clearly weren't interested in where he was going. The Metacrisis certainly didn't waste any time. He and Rose were standing close together, already returning to the intimacy that he remembered well.

He knew what would happen next, so why did he torture himself by staying to watch this story play out? Maybe he had forgotten his own cardinal rule: always keep running. Never look back. And yet he seemed unable to turn away, mesmerised by the sight of his beautiful girl falling for another man. No, not another man. Himself, but also not himself. The Doctor leaned against the wall, combating the urge to scream. The TARDIS made a jittery sound in his head. He released his clenched fist to stroke the bulkhead. It made his fingers tingle.

'I'm sorry,' he mouthed. The ancient ship didn't answer. Perhaps she was sulking. The Doctor took in a deep breath and walked away, this time without looking back.

~x~

Rose stared at the blue wooden doors for a long while. She wasn't even aware that the other Doctor had come up beside her until he carefully slipped his hand in hers. Warm. His hand was warm. It was the second time she noticed this. The Doctor had explained earlier that this 'Metacrisis' was a copy of himself, but Rose was confused why an exact copy would have warmer hands than the original. Standing close to her, he sought her eyes, trying to convey a measure of reassurance. And also something else, something infinitely more complex and at the same time so simple it shocked her. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something but then changed his mind and instead gripped her hand more tightly. Rose fought the overwhelming urge to hug him.

When she avoided his eyes, he pulled her closer, without bothering to ask first. Rose briefly considered objecting but then allowed herself to be drawn fully into his embrace. With her head tight against his chest, his hands began stroking her back and she closed her eyes. For a few short minutes, nothing else existed but the intimacy she had craved so badly for so long, even though she knew this Doctor would have to leave eventually – maybe even because of that.

'It's me, Rose,' he whispered.

She grinned against the soft fabric of his jacket. 'Of course it's you.' Rose barely finished her sentence before she finally caught up to what her brain was telling her, something she knew already but which she had refused to acknowledge so far. With her head pressed to the Doctor's chest she could feel his steady heartbeat – his single heartbeat.

She abruptly pulled free from his arms and backed up a little. 'Your hearts. What's wrong?'

He looked startled, then swiftly recovered his composure. 'You could say I'm unique. Well, more unique than before. Time Lord brain, single human heart. Takes a bit of getting used to. Don't know how you humans cope, really.' When Rose looked at him with one raised eyebrow, he sighed. 'Two-way biological Metacrisis, Rose. Donna became part Time Lord, but I became part human. I even have some of her DNA.' He pulled a strand of hair in front of his eyes. 'Still not ginger, though. Guess you can't have it all.'

'Okay, back up a sec. Except for the single heart, what else does 'part human' mean?'

'Ageing, for one.' A hint of uncertainty crept behind his dark eyes. 'I can't regenerate anymore.'

'So, you're not the Doctor. Not the proper Doctor.' Too late Rose realised her words' potential to hurt and she regretted them instantly.

He didn't answer back, but didn't seem offended either. Rather, he appeared to be waiting for something.

Rose took a step closer and hesitantly placed a hand on his chest. Now that she was paying attention, it wasn't just his hands that felt different. The blood pumping through his single human heart radiated warmth into her own chilled skin, driving home the fact that she was indeed touching a theoretical impossibility–a human Time Lord.

Paradoxically, as the consequences began to add up, this latest revelation became even harder to accept. So much about him remained indistinguishable from the Doctor she knew—the same unruly hair, his dark brown eyes just as bright and intense as she remembered.

Her gaze drifted lower, examining his face and finding every freckle in the right place. She nearly laughed out loud. They'd spend enough time in close proximity for her to be sure about something as mundane as that. Studying his face further, her eyes were drawn to his mouth. Exactly the same. He was grinning ever so slightly now, patiently waiting for her to finish her little inspection. Rose lifted her hand off his chest and traced his jaw-line with her thumb, carefully avoiding becoming too intimate. Even so, the initial surprise of her touch caused his mouth to form into a little 'o' shape. To her own embarrassment Rose had to admit that that plump lower lip of his was still infuriatingly tempting.

'I'm still me,' he spoke quietly. 'Same memories. Same person. Except I'll grow old at the same time as you now. One heart, one life. Rose Tyler.' He drew in a shaky breath. 'I could spend it with you. If you want.'

Rose's mouth went suddenly dry. All those nights she'd tossed and turned, with memories of the Doctor as her only comfort—and the dreams of what had never happened, and was never likely to. And now here was this Doctor, the one right in front of her, very close and real indeed, offering her everything she wanted? Just like that?

He followed her every move with an expression that appeared vulnerable but at the same time almost hungry. When Rose looked up into his eyes the already present tension between them spiked, sending an electric shiver up her spine. How had they landed themselves in this situation so fast? And when did they get so close that she could feel his breath touching her cheek? It would be so easy to give in and kiss him, and why wouldn't she? After all, they had waited far too long for this already, and it wasn't as if he was playing hard to get. Never before had the Doctor allowed himself to show such an undeniable attraction to her, at least as long as she pretended not to notice. So many chances, but never following through, always holding back.

He was barely breathing now, waiting for her to answer, to move, to do… something, anything, please.

All at once it blazed through her mind what was actually happening.

Wrong Doctor.

Instantly, her longing for this man became the worst of betrayals. How could she do this to him? Her heart dropped heavily and her hands did the same.

'I… I'm sorry.' She turned and fled down the corridor.

~x~

Rose didn't slow down until she was sure the Metacrisis Doctor hadn't followed her. She leaned against the wall, hands in front of her face, taking several deep breaths to calm her racing heart. Years of living with the Doctor and later working for Torchwood had taught her to think on her feet and to trust her instinct, which was why she had trouble rationalising what just happened.

This other Doctor looked and sounded exactly like the real one, but there was something inherently wrong about the idea that he was the same man. He couldn't be. She hadn't fought her way across universes only to fall into the arms of a copy at the first opportunity. Whatever that man thought he could offer her, it was not what she wanted. She wanted her Doctor.

Fatigue threatened to get the better of her and the need for sleep hit down hard. Entering her old bedroom was like stepping back in time. Three years and twenty-eight days had passed since she last set foot in this room, but it felt closer to hours. All her familiar things were still right where she'd left them, the room still reflecting her younger self's tastes—the decor a little too colourful, a greater variety of makeup on the dresser than she had back home. Not home, she corrected herself. This was her reality now.

Oddly, the only change in the room was also the most noticeable. It was tidy. There were no scattered items of clothing or other clutter and not a speck of dust anywhere. This only added to the surreal experience of returning to a home that hadn't been home for a long time. Rose opened the wardrobe and found a neat row of clothes—dresses, shirts, trousers, shoes, all in perfect order, which was also peculiar. She distinctly remembered being in a hurry that last morning and leaving everything as messy as it was, believing she'd be back to clean up later.

On the bedside table lay the book she'd been reading the night before the Battle. She picked it up and the book fell open on the page where she'd left off, marked by the embroidered ribbon the Doctor had bought her from some alien bijoux shop once. Stroking the smooth red silk with her fingers brought on another rush of memories. She swallowed and hurriedly put the book down. Remembering more from that day was just a little too much right now.

Her attention was drawn to the bed; it was neatly made, also different to the way she'd left it, but the pillow and blankets showed a light indentation, as if somebody had slept there without bothering to pull back the covers. A sudden muscle-pinch reminded her of her aching back and stiff neck. She shrugged off her jacket and let herself fall onto the bed, burying her face in the pillow. She'd expected the sheets to be musty at the very least, but they smelled strangely clean and fresh, with a hint of lavender and a slightly heavier scent she couldn't place but which made her feel good. Then her nose caught the pungent, lingering odour of soot and sweat. Rose sat up again and sniffed the underside of her sleeve. She pulled a face. Lying here on her bed fully dressed and smelling like an ashtray wouldn't do for a good night's sleep.

With effort she dragged herself up and into the bathroom, peeled off the rest of her clothing and let the shower do its job. Soon the hot water began washing away the effects of a very long, hard day and she started to relax. Various soaps and shower-creams later, she stepped out onto the cool tiles and wiped her hand across the steamed-up mirror. It took a few moments to recognise the woman staring back at her. There were some disturbing shadows in her face.

Distractedly, she dragged the towel over her body, then winced as she rubbed her side a little too roughly. The jagged line that ran from the left side of her stomach down across her hip wasn't something she wasted much thought on, at least not if she could avoid it, but it was always there. It hurt more when the muscles below the skin were tender, like now. She towelled off further and found a shirt that would do for the night.

With a final effort Rose pulled back the covers and crawled between the welcoming sheets. Feeling the familiar mattress beneath her and the hum of the TARDIS at the back of her mind, she quickly drifted off, but not before silently thanking the ancient time ship for taking care of the Doctor and for keeping her room. No amount of silk sheets or being waited on in the Tyler mansion could ever have replaced this. All she desired now was to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. She tried to push away thoughts of the Doctor being alone somewhere in his vast ship, the two of them together again, but still apart. Despite the desire for oblivion, the doubts kept her awake until she finally acknowledged the reality of her new situation. It was going to be complicated.

~x~

The Doctor stared at the cabinet in front of him without really seeing anything. He tried to push away a number of unwanted thoughts but kept failing miserably. What he didn't want to see would be there, whether he closed his eyes or not. He reached over and pulled open the drawer. Inside it was a single item: a crystal ornament with a miniature blue star at its centre. It felt heavier than it looked. He recalled the marketplace on Juniper IX where he'd discovered this little gem. He and Rose had been so happy that day and he wished they could have stayed, exploring during the day, admiring the triple moons at night. No monsters, no worlds to be saved. Just them. He closed his hand over the small object and clenched his fist, feeling the cool edges against his skin.

A sudden chill forced his mind back to the present. He had always been spectacularly good at running away from what couldn't be changed, but as long as she was still here, leaving the past behind would be impossible. Back on the Crucible, every one of Davros' words had hit home. The Doctor's shame burned inside him like a firestorm, twisting his love for Rose into something unrecognisable, something dirty, to be buried as deeply as possible before the rot would set in. Rose hadn't realised the truth yet, but she soon would. Now he had given her what she wanted and he wasn't going to look back. In an hour or so everything would be like it was before, and he would go on like he always had.

The TARDIS suddenly shuddered. A brief tremor before she settled down again.

The Doctor waited for a few seconds to see if the event would be repeated. Nothing happened, so he quickly ran a hand through his hair and heaved a deep sigh. A warning. He silently berated the TARDIS, telling her to stop defying him. She knew his true feelings about all this, but she had no right interfering. The Doctor released the Juniper Star and carefully placed it on the table surface. A slight tremble of his hand made it roll towards the edge of the table. The Doctor tried to catch it but the thing slipped through his fingers and dropped to the floor, shattering into thousands of tiny blue fragments.

He closed his eyes, envisioning another place and time, where the future didn't resemble the fate of the Juniper Star. Then he turned towards the door. There was only one thing left to do now.

~x~

A knock on the door jolted Rose back into the present. She had no idea if she'd slept for minutes or hours, but it didn't feel very long in any case. She muttered a groggy reply. Rose didn't need to see the pinstriped suit to know which Doctor this was. She could tell by the frown on his face alone. Even after all their time apart, he was still rubbish at hiding his emotions.

'Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you. Just came to see if you were all right.'

'I'm always all right.'

The Doctor's brow lifted at hearing back his own stock-reply. He hovered on the threshold before finally stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. He drew closer, then sat down on the edge of the bed. All at once, Rose became very alert, the haziness from sleep and exhaustion clearing like a morning fog. This was their first time alone since Torchwood Tower, and suddenly everything felt awkward. Rose swallowed down the lump in her throat. More than anything she wanted to comfort him, to lift that enormous weight off his shoulders, but his body language was closed off. She dug deep, seeking that precious spark of friendship and ease that had always defined them.

'I'm still Shiver.'

He looked puzzled. 'What?'

'Shiver and Shake. The Old Team, remember?'

His face lit up. 'Oh yeah, and I'm definitely still Shake.'

Seeing the Doctor's familiar grin, Rose couldn't hold back anymore. She raised herself up on her knees and threw her arms around his neck. He returned the hug, almost as firmly as he had done in the console room hours, no, years ago. She shut her eyes and let it wash over her. She was back. They had found each other. Home in the TARDIS, with no Daleks to fight or any other creatures bent on their destruction. Just him and her. The nightmare was finally over.

She realised how desperate she had been for warmth, for physical touch. His touch. Suddenly aware of her thin nightshirt, Rose drew back a little and began fiddling with the Doctor's tie. He remained close, his hands resting lightly at her waist.

'So, well…' She hesitated. 'Anything important happen, while I was away?'

'Nah. Same old boring life.'

Rose grinned at that.

'No, really,' the Doctor said, 'I'm serious. Haven't seen a prison cell from the inside since the day you left. Which supports my theory that it was you all along. Jeopardy friendly Rose Tyler. Me, I just tag along, minding my own business.'

'Better prepare a breakout plan then, or two, because I'm back now.' Her attempt at keeping the mood light-hearted fell suddenly flat and the Doctor's cheerful expression dimmed a little.

'Yeah.'

It was the way he said it that made Rose cringe. His hands slipped away like the receding tide. Within the small space between them, Rose reached for his hand. The mood had irrevocably changed and there was no ignoring this anymore.

'Why was the TARDIS so desperate to stay in this universe?' Rose asked. 'We only wanted to return my Mum to Pete's World. Or did she think we'd not make it back or something?'

The Doctor's countenance darkened. 'Rose… I only want what's best for you.'

'What do you mean?' Rose leaned back against the pillows, hyper-aware now that this conversation was heading somewhere it shouldn't. Judging by the tightness in his jaw, the Doctor knew it too. His hand slipped quietly from hers and he looked the other way.

'The Metacrisis is human, Rose. You made me better, now you can do the same for him. He needs you.'

'What about what I need?'

The Doctor's emotional retreat was instant. In a second he managed to put more distance between them than any parallel universe would ever be able to, and with them sitting so close together it felt infinitely worse. Rose bit her lip and forced herself to stay calm when all she wanted to do was yell at the top of her lungs. She swallowed back embarrassment and lowered her eyes to where her hands were clutching the hem of her shirt, twisting the fabric tightly around her finger until it hurt enough for her courage to resurface.

Now Rose glanced up again. The sadness between them was nearly palatable, with the Doctor's entire long life visible behind his eyes, all the times he'd lost more than he thought possible and still lived on. Rose didn't want to carve another hole in his hearts, but she needed to know. If he'd treated her harshly or callously, everything would have been so much simpler. Instead, he was disappearing into himself and she couldn't hold on to him.

'On the beach, last time, when I told you… What were you going to answer?'

'Does it need saying?'

'I came all this way just to find you again.'

'Maybe you shouldn't have.'

A taste of bile manifested at the back of her mouth. It took everything she had not to punch the Doctor. Instead, she fisted the duvet beneath her hands.

Whatever she could have said or done next became irrelevant when the TARDIS suddenly pitched sharply to the right. Rose rolled off the bed and hit the floor with a painful thud. The Doctor dodged to prevent his head colliding with the furniture as he tumbled backwards. They both scrambled for leverage which should have been much easier if the TARDIS hadn't continued to roll in seemingly every possible direction.

A temporary lull allowed the Doctor to reach the door first and he sprinted down the hallway towards the console room. Rose grabbed her trousers, heart beating like a trip hammer as she thrust her feet into a pair of boots. She managed to catch up with the Doctor just as the TARDIS decided to perform another back-flip. After various unkind run-ins with the walls they finally burst into the console room to find the Doctor's twin at the controls in a desperate attempt to slow down the rebellious ship.

'What did you do?' the Doctor shouted. He raced towards the Metacrisis and roughly pushed him out of the way. His double didn't protest, but stood back looking bewildered. The Doctor began working at an even more furious pace and Rose could have sworn she saw his hands blur. He smacked controls to his left and right, regardless of the fact that his ship was sentient, making his past actions with the mallet seem positively kind.

Every thought in her head froze as the TARDIS launched itself into the Vortex. The Doctor let out a cry and almost lost his balance again. Other shouts of surprise were drowned out by the noise of the ship accelerating even with the Doctor still furiously trying to gain control.

In the midst of pandemonium Donna and Jackie tumbled into the console room but they could do nothing except cling to the railing. On the other side of the console the blue-suited Doctor attempted to help, but his efforts were equally useless. A singularly violent shock sent the TARDIS into a wild, out-of-control dance and both men were thrown back against the metal grating. Rose struggled to stay upright and hold on as the entire ship lurched sharply to the left, then to the right again, as if the infinite expanse of the Time Vortex had suddenly become an obstacle course.

Only a few feet away her mother struggled as well, still holding on, but with panic written all over her face. Rose reached into her pocket and felt the familiar shape of the dimension device. Her Mum didn't have to die after all. Rose pulled out the device and quickly slipped it over her mother's neck. Rose glanced at her one last time, then thumbed the button. In a flash Jackie was gone, flung across dimensions back to her own universe.

Another jolt rocked the TARDIS. If possible, the ship sped up even more, her entire core shuddering under the strain. Rose's knuckles had turned white from her fierce grip on the railing. Any attempt to stay upright was useless now. Memories of Torchwood Tower slammed into her mind and fear gripped her midsection, forcing the air out of her lungs until she could do nothing but hang on helplessly, gasping for breath. Somewhere far away in the depths of the TARDIS, the cloister-bell rang.