Online and locked.

The suction of the Void, which had dwindled to not much more than a strong gust of wind, returned to full strength immediately. Daleks and Cybermen soared through the air into the open breach, but the Doctor ignored them all. Every atom of his existence was focused the woman clinging to the lever on the other side of the room.

Rose's fear pulsed over their bond. "We'll get pulled in," she'd said, not fifteen minutes earlier as he'd explained his plan to return the Daleks and Cybermen to the Void.

Watching as the suction slowly lifted Rose's body until she was parallel with the floor, the Doctor wished he'd sent her Pete's World with her mother, despite her refusal when he'd asked. She would've been angry with him, but at least she'd be alive and not trapped in the Void.

Rose's fingers slipped on the grip, and she grunted and readjusted her hold as the Doctor watched, his fear turning to panic.

Hold on, love—please! he begged.

A moment later, serene calm brushed against his mind. I'm never gonna leave you. Before he could point out how impossible that promise was, she set her jaw and shifted so her fingers were locked together, with the lever in-between her clasped hands.

For a few seconds—ten, maybe fifteen—the Doctor thought the better grip would be enough. Rose would be able to hold on until the breach closed, and then he would take her into his arms and not let go of her until his heart rate returned to normal… possibly sometime next month.

Then he saw her fingers slip, a fraction of an inch. Time swirled around her, and he couldn't tell who would have the victory—Rose, clinging to the lever, or the Void, pulling her inexorably closer.

It happened in a heartbeat: one, slow-motion heartbeat. A slip, a scream, and she was falling.

"Rose!" the Doctor shouted, her name echoing in the room as she fell towards the gaping maw of the open Void.

She held his gaze as she fell, her arms outstretched for him to grab her and pull her back. I love you.

For once, all words failed the Doctor. The most he could manage was to project his love to her over their bond in the last few seconds of her life.

The air shifted and the wind died down. The intense white light coming through the open breach faded, and just beyond Rose, the Doctor saw the walls between the worlds knit themselves back together. His hearts jumped into his throat. Please, he begged the universe and Time. Please let her stay with me.

Rose twisted in mid-air as she struggled to pull free of the weakening force of the Void. Her legs pushed through the air like she was treading water, and she'd almost managed to get her feet on the ground when her back slammed into the wall.

The Doctor winced when he heard the thud of her body hitting the solid wall, but exhilaration still coursed through him as his feet touched the ground. He could heal any injuries she'd sustained. She was still with him—that made it all worthwhile.

"We made it!" he crowed as he ran to where she lay crumpled against the wall.

He registered her stillness a second before he reached her, but he ruthlessly squashed the dread that threatened to overtake him for the hundredth time that day. The bond was still there, though her end was quiet, as if she were asleep.

"Rose?" he called when he touched her shoulder. Her body flopped lifelessly into his arms when he pulled her towards him, and he furiously blinked back the tears that threatened. "No, please love," he begged. Her neck was bent at an unnatural angle, and even though he knew what must have happened, he pressed two fingers to neck, frantically looking for a sign of life.

A scream clawed its way from his throat when he found no pulse. The Doctor gathered his bondmate into his arms and cradled her body to him as he rocked back and forth, yelling wordlessly at the vindictive universe that had given him hope, only to yank it away so cruelly.

The last remnant of life was the telepathic bond linking their minds, unbreakable except by death. The Doctor threw himself into the warm feeling of her mind around his, even though there was no conscious response, no answering flicker of love to greet him. This was where he belonged, and this was where he would stay, until even this final bit of Rose was taken from him.

A warning buzzed along his time senses, but he ignored it. Time had taken her from him when he'd begged that she be allowed to stay; Time could damn well leave him alone to grieve.

The TARDIS hummed in his mind next. You must put her down, Thief.

The Doctor's answering snarl caught in his throat when he felt the pulse of energy moving under his hands. He looked down at her body, hardly daring to believe what he sensed was happening, but the gold light rippling beneath her skin was unmistakeable.

Dozens of questions went through his mind as he set Rose down and scrambled back a few steps—dozens of questions, and one fact that became gloriously clear to him as the golden energy of time streamed from her hands.

He hadn't lost Rose. He might never lose Rose.

He watched glossy chestnut curls replace her dyed blonde hair and a dusting of freckles appear over the bridge of her nose and the apples of her cheeks. Then she blinked, and he fell in love all over again when her blue eyes looked at him.

Rose stared at the Doctor, who was looking at her the way he did a star being born. She pushed herself to her feet, trying to pin down why she felt so… different. The answer came when a reddish brown curl fell into her face.

"Doctor?" Her voice was husky, and she cleared her throat, wondering if she was getting sick. "What happened?"

He brushed the strand of hair back over her ear. The familiar gesture soothed her anxiety, as did the absolute joy she could feel from him over their bond.

"You regenerated, love. Well…" He winced. "You hit the wall and died, and then you regenerated."

Echoes of memories returned to Rose, and she nodded slowly. "Bad Wolf changed me somehow, didn't it?"

"That's the only possible answer," he agreed. "And we can talk about this more at home, but right now, I estimate we have about five minutes before UNIT arrive, and I'd like to be far away from here before then." He held out his hand and wiggled his fingers. "Ready to go home?"

Rose took his hand, and he bounced lightly on his toes and grinned down at her. "Rose Tyler… run!" he whispered gleefully, and they took off down the stairs until they reached the storage room the TARDIS was tucked away in. They heard boots in the next corridor over as they turned the key in the lock, and both giggled madly as they burst into the console room and quickly set the ship in motion, taking her to the Time Vortex.

"I'm gonna go clean up and change," Rose told the Doctor. "It's been a long day."

He bent down and brushed a kiss over her lips, then smiled at her. "I'll be right behind you," he promised.

As Rose walked to their room, the weight of the day started to settle on her shoulders. Her mum was gone—but she forcibly shoved that thought aside until she had time to properly grieve the loss.

Cybermen and bloody Daleks, she thought bitterly as she entered the room. She unzipped her cardi and tossed it straight into the bin, knowing the memories of today would make it impossible to wear it again.

She felt surprisingly clean, then she realised that she'd gotten new skin—new everything—since she'd felt the layer of dust and sweat coating her skin earlier.

Rose shrugged off the weird thought and changed into a soft cotton vest and sleep shorts. Her energy was fading, and if she didn't need to spend time in the shower, she wasn't going to question the blessing.

Out of habit, she walked into the en-suite to wash her face before going to bed. The first look in the mirror hit her like a slap in the face.

There was not a single feature she recognised. Her height was the same, and her figure hadn't changed enough to really alter the way her clothes fit, but beyond that… Her fingers trembled as they touched the unfamiliar reflection in the mirror.

Who is this person?

Another face appeared behind hers, one she knew this time, and she met the Doctor's gaze in the mirror. "I… I don't…" She shook her head.

He didn't move from where he stood by the doorway, his hands twitching at his sides. "I think we should talk a bit."

Rose flinched; that was never a good way to start a conversation. Comprehension and then an apology came through over the bond, but she couldn't relax, even with that small reassurance.

"Relax, love," he told her quietly. "I just think you probably have some questions and concerns we should talk about, rather than pretending they don't exist."

He stepped back and motioned to the open door, and Rose blew out a breath and shuffled into the bedroom. The Doctor quickly stripped out of his suit, then sat down on the bed with his back against the headboard and patted the empty spot next to him. Rose bit her lip, then went around to her side of the bed and sat down.

The Doctor scooted closer and reached immediately for her hand. "Where do you want to start, Rose?" He rubbed his thumb over his knuckle.

Rose wriggled a little on the bed. This was her Doctor—the same man she'd been in love with for nearly three years, the man she'd been married to for six months. If she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend nothing had changed.

Except his hand felt different in hers. It still felt right, but her new hands with their long, slender fingers slotted into his differently.

What if that wasn't the only thing that was different? And what if she felt different to him, too? What if he wasn't attracted to her anymore, or what if he didn't like the way her new touch felt?

She opened her mouth, then closed it again almost immediately. How could she ask her bond mate if he still wanted her?

"I didn't realise how hard this would be for you," the Doctor said quietly.

"I just don't… am I still me? Are we still us? Do you still…" She sighed and pulled her hand from his, wrapping her arms over her chest.

The Doctor shifted so he could look Rose in the eye. Her uncertainty was painfully familiar—he'd had all the same questions after his regeneration, only without the fear that his change would interfere with their bond.

He ached to pull her into his arms and just hold her. It had been a long, difficult day, and for a few terrible minutes, he'd thought he'd lost her. If he could just hold her, he could reassure her that he would always want her, and reassure himself that she was really there.

But Rose needed words, so he swallowed back the lump in his throat and opened his mouth.

"You're still the same Rose Tyler you were when you woke up this morning." He reached hesitantly for her hand and smiled when she let him take it. "Yes, your fingers feel different in mine, and your almost-ginger hair is certainly a change from what you're used to—either your natural colour or your preferred shade."

He took a breath. "But in my mind, Rose… you still feel the same there. Your body has changed, but who you are hasn't. And I didn't fall in love with you or marry you for your body. I asked you to be my bondmate because I love who you are."

Over the bond, he could feel Rose considering his words, weighing them against her own insecurities. The tip of her tongue poked out when she was deep in thought, and the Doctor knew instantly that this was a quirk that would drive him to distraction.

Mischief sparkled in Rose's eyes when she picked up on that thought, as he'd intended. She shifted closer to him and pulled a strand of hair into her line of vision. "Almost-ginger, huh?" she drawled.

"Yes. Your first regeneration, and you've gotten closer to red hair than I have in nine attempts."

"Well, if I knew how I'd done it, I'd give you pointers," she teased.

The Doctor pouted, inwardly relieved that she seemed to be doing better, at least for the moment. He twined one of her curls around his finger, then pulled it loose and watched the curl bounce.

Rose giggled, and the Doctor was shocked when the sound brought tears to his eyes. He realised why almost immediately; he'd ignored his own hurt to take care of her, and hearing her laughter was the permission he needed to break down.

He shifted back to his original position against the headboard and pulled a surprised but non-protesting Rose into his arms. Rose… oh, love, he called to her as he pressed his forehead to hers. Her breath was slow and even compared to his harsh panting as he struggled to maintain his composure.

Rose ran a soothing hand through his hair. What's wrong, love?

He forced himself to take slow, deep breaths, controlling the sobs that threatened to break loose. "I… You were… I thought I'd lost you," he managed finally, his voice raspy. "First, I thought you were going to be trapped in the Void, and then…" He clenched his eyes shut. "I sat there, holding your dead body and waiting for the bond to break."

"Oh, Doctor."

Rose cuddled closer to him, and he broke when he buried his face in her hair. A moment later, he felt her hand stroking the sensitive spot above his temple as she murmured soothing reassurances in his ear.

"We're here. We're both home, together," she promised. "And you won't ever have to do that again, Doctor. Because I told you, didn't I? I'm never going to leave you."

His tears ended on a sudden gasp. She had told him that, and he'd dismissed it as impossible. But now…

The Doctor pulled back and looked at his bondmate with his time senses wide open. The beauty of what he saw brought fresh tears to his eyes, and he leaned down to capture her lips with his.

Rose Tyler, he said reverently as they shifted so they were lying on their sides. How long are you going to stay with me?

Using their bond, he let her see what Time had just shown him. A moment later, he felt her lips curve into a smile, then shift so she could scrape her teeth over his lower lip.

Arousal swirled between them, but the Doctor wanted an answer before they gave in to the heady pleasure of it. He pulled out of the kiss and opened his eyes, feeling a slight jolt when he saw her new face again.

Blue eyes smiled at him, before Rose moved closer and slid a leg over his hips. Forever, Doctor, she promised as she kissed him again. I'm going to stay with you forever.