Prologue

The Doctor missed Rose. That was the truth, the honest truth, no matter what deity he believed in. The truth was that after 19 years, he still missed Rose.

He knew that other people – Rose in particular – had desired him. The truth was that he had desired her, as well. He had desired her from day one, back when he had big ears and a leather jacket and no tact. He had, and always would, cherish the moments that she kissed him: once in his 9th body, once after they found the Stone Rose, and once at the hospital in New New York. They had been some of the best moments of his life. Weeeeellll maybe not that New New York kiss, but moving on.

Being with Rose had made him come alive, both in body and soul. He had fantasized about her many times. He wanted Rose in every way, with every part of his body and mind, though he had never admitted it. Though his ship had known it, even she didn't dare confront him about the matter.

Unfortunately, this had changed nothing.

Rose was not a Time Lord, and she was not Gallifreyan. She was not practically immortal. She could not regenerate. It was as he had told her: "You can spend the rest of your life with me. But I can't spend the rest of mine with you. I have to live on. Alone. That's the curse of the Time Lords."

It was for this reason, above all, that he could never be with Rose. This had never been up for debate in his mind, not for a second. It was the unwavering truth, just like the truth that the sky in Gallifrey was orange or that he was the Doctor. He was the Doctor, and it was his job to save the world. It was his job to do all the things that the Time Lords could not. And this did not include Rose.

The adventures he had with Rose were a breath of fresh air. They were dangerous, sometimes even deadly, but they were nothing compared to the perils that he saved for himself. He could not take a wife, or a partner. The partner would deserve better, and his distraction might cost lives.

His human self would tell her that, now, he was sure. His human self could tell her all of the things that he had wanted to tell her, and give her all of the things that he'd wanted to give her. He also was sure that Rose already knew. That was why he loved her.

Humans, put in his situation, would have been overwhelmed by the things he was feeling now: angry at the unfairness of the universe, distraught by Rose's departure, jealous of his human self, and pride that at least a part of him would always be with her. However, the saddest part of all was that he was, by now, somewhat numb to the entire process.

This was why he searched for adventure, above all else. Adventure made him come alive again. These days, adventure was the only time he felt alive. It was running, he knew that. Still, people were saved while the Doctor was running, so perhaps it was worth it. People were saved, and he felt alive.

Needless to say, these days, he was running more than ever.