Delete. Delete. Delete.

They come closer and closer.

Delete. Delete. Delete.

They're coming for him.

Delete. Delete. Delete.

Mickey.

Mickey Smith. Mickey the idiot.

Delete. Delete. Delete.

Her Mickey.

Delete. Delete. Delete.

So many of them.

Delete. Delete. Delete.

They're here.

Delete. Delete. Delete.

They reach out with those silver hands.

Delete. Delete. Delete.

Blue electricity courses over his body.

He screams.

Rose's eyes opened with a start. Looking around, she realized that she was safe in the TARDIS, in her room.

But Mickey... Mickey wasn't safe at all. Trapped in the parallel world, fighting Cybermen.

He could be dead by now, deleted by the Cybermen, or worse, turned into a Cyberman himself, and Rose would never know.

She looked around her bedroom. She always felt so safe in her room, so comfortable. "The assembled hordes of Genghis Khan couldn't get in here," the Doctor had told her once, when they had first met, when he had had big ears and a leather jacket.

Nothing could hurt her in the TARDIS. Or, more correctly, nothing - and no one - would.

But Mickey... he didn't have the TARDIS to protect him. He didn't have the Doctor. He was alone, trapped.

She remembered her final conversation with Mickey.

"What if I need you?"

"Yeah, but Rose, you don't. It's just you and him, isn't it. We had something a long time ago, but not anymore."

Rose began softly crying... not just because she was afraid for her friend... but because he was right.

Mickey the Idiot, not such an idiot after all. He knew, all along.

But did he? Really, did he? Mickey knew full well how much she loved the Doctor. But the Doctor didn't love her. He couldn't. He couldn't love Sarah Jane Smith, and he couldn't love Rose Tyler.

Forget it, she thought. She rolled over and fell back asleep.

That was her big mistake.

Almost instantly, her dreams were plagued with images, even worse than before.

Because it wasn't Mickey, this time. It was the Doctor, surrounded by that horrible blue energy, screaming in pain. Dying in front of Rose's face. And not regenerating, either. He was silent, silent and cold, and gone.

And they were coming for her, too.

She cried and screamed in her sleep, not waking up, tortured over and over again by the nightmares.


The Doctor couldn't sleep. Something was troubling his mind, but he didn't know what. The TARDIS, too, seemed uneasy; he could sense that in her. Something was wrong, horribly wrong.

"What is it, TARDIS?" he asked. "What's going on?"

And then he figured it out, realized that there was one thing, only one thing that could bother him like this.

In seconds, he was at Rose Tyler's bedroom door, and he knew that he was right.

Opening the door, he found Rose, his Rose, tossing and turning, screaming, crying in her sleep. Nightmare, he thought. He walked quietly over to her, and gently shook her shoulder.

"Rose," he said quietly. "Rose, wake up."

Her eyes opened, and the Doctor could see the pain, the panic, the fear. His hearts broke.

"What happened?" he asked. "Rose, what happened?"

"They... they got you..." she whispered, and then she began crying.

The Doctor helped her up to sitting, and sat down next to her. He put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her shaking body closer to him.

"Shh... don't cry," he said softly. "It's okay. I'm here. We're safe, remember? No Cybermen here."

She wiped her eyes, and nodded. "Yeah... I'm okay. Go back to sleep."

The Doctor looked her over. "You don't seem okay," he said. "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine," she replied. "Just a nightmare. I'm okay."

"Rose," he said. He looked into her eyes. "Rose, what is it?"

"Nothing," she said. "It's nothing."

"It? If you're calling something an 'it,' it's something. What's going on?"

"I..." She shook her head. "It's a lot of things," she said. "Too much to explain."

"Okay..." said the Doctor. "I can try to help you, if you want."

"How?"

"Close your eyes," he said, and he placed his hands on her head.

He could immediately sense Rose's feelings. Fear of the Cybermen. Concern for Mickey. Missing her friend.

But that didn't explain the pain in her eyes. It was more than missing Mickey, more than fear. There was something he was missing.

He kept looking, hoping to find the source of her pain. He was getting closer and closer, and he could sense the pain getting stronger.

All he found was a closed door.

Don't, Rose said to him. Don't open that door.

The Doctor touched the doorknob, not turning it. Immediately he felt the pain. This is it, he thought. This is what's hurting you, Rose. Why can't I go in?

Please, she whispered. You don't want to know what's in there. It's not bad or anything, but you don't want to know.

I want to know if it will help you, he said, and he opened the door.

The room inside was nearly empty, all white, except for a piece of paper floating in the middle of the room. He went over to the book, and picked it up.

At first, he thought it was blank, but then he saw writing, Rose's handwriting: I love him.

His eyes widened. I love him. He read the words, over and over.

The book began to fill with writing, different thoughts and feelings. I'm not good enough for him. He'll never love me. He can't love me. We're too different. He's going to leave me behind. And I love him, over and over again, filling the piece of paper.

He held the paper for a few moments, and then put it down, and exited her mind.


Rose felt the Doctor leave her thoughts, and she knew that he knew her secret. She laid down, rolled over, turning away from the Doctor, and buried her head in her pillow and blankets, trying to hide her tears.

"Rose, what's wrong?" The Doctor placed a hand on her shoulder.

She didn't respond. Instead, she curled up under her covers in shame.

She wanted to lose herself in the covers, forget what had happened. She wanted the Doctor to forget what he had seen, pretend that none of that had been real.

She hoped that the Doctor would leave. She waited for him to get up, walk out and close the door.

But he didn't. Instead, she felt his hand pulling the blankets away from her, brushing the hair from her face. He bent down, so his face was close to hers

"Rose," he whispered into her ear. "Rose Tyler, you have no idea how much I wanted you to tell me that." And he kissed her cheek.

Rose felt his lips soft against her cheek, and she gasped, just a little. She turned her head, looking up into his eyes.

"You- you wanted me to-"

The Doctor smiled at her, a soft, gentle smile. "Rose Tyler. My Rose Tyler." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, bringing his hand down her cheek. "I love you," he said.

Rose's eyes widened. "What?" she asked.

"You heard me, Rose. I love you."

"Really?" Rose asked. She chided herself for sounding like a child.

"Yes, really. I love you, Rose Tyler."

Rose looked around, and began running her hands through her hair. "Am I... is this a dream?"

The Doctor chuckled. "No, this isn't a dream. I promise, this is all real." He played with her hair a little. "But, speaking of dreams, you should go back to sleep. You look tired."

Rose nodded, and closed her eyes. The Doctor kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, Rose." He got up, and walked towards the door.

Rose opened her eyes. "Wait," she said.

"What?" asked the Doctor. He walked back towards her.

"Will you... will you stay with me?"

The Doctor grinned. "I have a better idea," he said. "Take my hands." He held his hands out to Rose.

Rose took his hands. "What are you doing?"

"You'll see," he said. "Close your eyes, and don't talk."

"Okay...?" She was rather perplexed, but she closed her eyes.

A most peculiar feeling ran through her body. It was as though everything in the room slowly stopped existing, except for her and the Doctor. This lasted for a few moments, and then the room started to exist again. "Open your eyes," said the Doctor.

Rose opened them to find that she wasn't in her room anymore, but in a different bedroom. It took almost no thought to realize that this was the Doctor's room.

"Oh..." she whispered.

"You've never been in here before, have you?" asked the Doctor, lying down next to her on the unmade bed.

"No," she said. "But I like it."

"Good, because this was my idea." The Doctor gave her a cheeky grin. "Come here, Rose Tyler." He pulled the blankets up.

Rose curled up close to the Doctor, laying her head on his chest. She could hear his two hearts beating quietly. His arms wrapped around her, holding her, protecting her from any nightmares that tried to come.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Anything for you, Rose," said the Doctor. He kissed the top of her head. "Sweet dreams."


The Doctor looked down at the girl sleeping in his arms. He loved her so very much. And he was so glad, so very glad that she had finally told him her feelings.

"Goodnight, my Rose," he said, and he fell asleep.