The TARDIS hummed at him in a melancholy dirge, lights dimmed to reflect his sombre mood. Never before had he felt so small, so insignificant … so alone. In all his years of travelling, he had always had someone by his side – even after the death of Gallifrey, he still had Rose, his constant. But now even she was gone. Her jacket was casually draped over one of the coral-like pillars that twisted through the console room, a vicious reminder to the Doctor of his loss. He leaned over the console, staring and not seeing, as he contemplated the day's events.

A tiny turquoise light cut through the gloom, blinking at the Doctor expectantly. So engrossed was he in his thoughts that he did not notice it at first – but eventually its incessant flashing distracted him long enough for him to frown confusedly at it. Sighing sadly, he put his hand over it to block out its bright light. To his surprise, however, the light depressed like a button and the TARDIS was suddenly plunged into darkness.

"Shit."

The Doctor looked up sharply. He knew that voice, he recognised that voice, but … it couldn't be …

There was a crashing noise that sounded somewhat synthetic, almost as if it were coming through old speakers – and at that, the Doctor realised with a sinking feeling that this was –

THUMP

And then there was light. Not a lot of light – barely enough light to see by – but light enough for the Doctor to see what was in front of him.

Rose.

It was Rose … and it wasn't. With a heavy heart he recognised Rose as being a hologram – a hologram she had clearly managed to make while he wasn't looking. Despite himself, he gave a small, sad, proud smile at the thought of his Rose being able to work out how to work the recorder.

"Hello?" she said, looking around. She looked up – presumably at the time rotor, he guessed – and pointed in front of her, at he assumed to be the camera. "This thing on?" she asked. Something must have informed her of the fact, because she returned to looking straight ahead, slightly out of the Doctor's eyeline. Her voice sounded slightly tinny as well, slightly processed – fitting enough for the flickering, dull image of the hologram.

"Um … hi," she said nervously, grimacing. "God, how'd you stay so calm during this last time?" She sighed and muttered something to herself which sounded to the Doctor like, "Well, I don't s'pose you can tell me now, can you …" He chuckled slightly as Rose composed herself and tugged awkwardly at the hem of her t-shirt. She narrowed her eyes and grinned mischievously. "I bet you sat there in your room practising what you were gonna say on yours, weren't you?" she grinned widely. "I can read you like a book, I can." She stopped and looked down, and despite the faint blue tinge of the hologram the Doctor could tell she was blushing. She tugged at her t-shirt again and looked back up.

"Anyway," she continued, "I s'pose I'd better, um …" She bit her lip, looking as though she was searching for what to say next. "Yeah." She cleared her throat and straightened up slightly. "This is Emergency Program One," she intoned, clearly and calmly with a hint of amusement in her voice, "and you know the drill. You've done this before, you know what it's about, so there's no use me wasting any more time and explaining it to you." The Doctor stared as Rose blinked and cocked her head to one side as if she'd only just heard what she'd said. She wrinkled her nose up in thought and gave an involuntary grin.

"S'funny …" she said quietly. "You being a Time Lord and everything, I never really thought about wasting time. But … I s'pose I have been, haven't I?" It wasn't a question. It was more of a statement than anything else. Not for the first time, the Doctor wondered how Rose had become so mature and intelligent beyond her years.

"We've both been wasting time. We've been so …" Again she wrinkled her nose up, staring off as if searching for her next word. "So engrossed in what we were doing, running around the universe in a big blue box, overthrowing governments, saving innocent people's lives, destroying the bad guy and back in time for tea, that … we never really stopped and looked at ourselves." She smiled sadly and tucked a piece of heir behind her ear. "Well …" she muttered. "This is where it's got us." The Doctor took a deep, steadying breath and held it in for a long time, afraid to breathe out in case the last of his sanity and resolve went with it.

"I'll be dead by the time you see this," Rose said very matter-of-factly. He marvelled at her ability to stay so focussed. "Or I dunno … maybe you'll be dead too, and you won't ever see it." She looked upset, almost a little scared. "I hope you're not dead, cause … I want you to see this. I need you to see this. This might be my last chance to …" She looked down again, leaving the end of her sentence open. She scuffed her shoe on the floor and twisted the cuff of her jacket in her hands. "Um …" He could tell she was nervous. Who wouldn't be, in such a situation? What exactly does one say? The Doctor's message to Rose had been a pre-programmed response, one that the TARDIS had managed to alter slightly to make it seem more personal to Rose. Rose had made all of this up in the spur of the moment. He could hardly blame her for being a little indecisive about what to say next every now and then. In a way, it comforted him – it was more real. It was more personal. It was more … Rose.

"I dunno …" she began, checking herself before starting again. "I dunno how exactly this thing works," she admitted, "how it comes on or anything … I mean, I dunno when exactly I'm gonna die, so …"

The valiant child who will die in battle so very soon.

The Doctor heard those words echoing in his head, the prophetic warning of the Beast chilling him to his core. Rose was silent for a long time, staring absently at a space just below the camera. The silence unnerved the Doctor. Unconsciously, he took a step towards the hologram.

"Rose …" he muttered, in a voice barely above a whisper. He struggled to fight back the animalistic howl that threatened to escape from his throat at any second, fearing that if he started to cry he would never be able to stop. As if it had heard him, the hologram of Rose suddenly looked up and sighed resolutely.

"Look," she said, "just … don't forget about me, yeah?" She gave a small, sad smile. "All those lives of yours you've got left … don't waste 'em. You've gotta stay safe, Doctor, 'cause the universe needs someone to look after it." The smile became slightly wider. "And if you're the only one left to look after the universe, you've gotta look after yourself." Rose cocked her head slightly to one side again and shoved her hands in her jacket pockets as she rocked on her heels slightly. "So," she said firmly, like a mother addressing a child, "keep eating your greens, exercise lots, and, um …" She frowned slightly before remembering what she was going to say, "and don't forget to drink your tea." The Doctor smiled, and Rose seemed to smile back at him. Which would have been impossible, as she didn't know where he was.

"Yeah," she said resignedly. "Ok." She glanced back up at the heavens and muttered. "That's, um … that's it, I think." She nodded to herself and looked around, presumably searching for the 'off' switch. Just as she was turning away, she snapped her head back forwards again as an afterthought. "Oh no, wait, one more thing …" she said hurriedly, as if afraid she was running out of time. The Doctor inwardly sighed at the irony. "Just … um …" She looked down at her feet and sighed. "Just to let you know that I, um …"

I'm so glad I met you.

"I …"

I want you safe. My Doctor.

She looked at the Doctor, and he nearly collapsed from shock. The hologram had turned its head calmly and looked right at the Doctor, as if it really did know he was there. Rose smiled gently and compassionately, full of wisdom, and the Doctor bit his lip so hard that a tiny line of blood appeared.

"I know," she said simply. For a few moments, the hologram stopped flickering and some of the real colour returned to Rose's clothes, and her voice sounded normal and unprocessed. The Doctor staggered slightly and the hologram followed him – he never took his eyes away from Rose's, and she held the eye contact as well. "And you do too." Her smile faltered for the tiniest of seconds before returning, and she almost looked and sounded real. "And that's … that's good." A tiny, barely perceptible nod and the Doctor knew Rose was finished. "Bye then, Doctor," she said, still smiling. She kissed her fingers and waved at the Doctor before the image flickered once, twice and flashed out of existence, leaving him alone with his grief and sorrow.

I could save the world but lose you.

He did. And he had.