A/N: In the US, tomorrow will be the last day of Infertility Awareness Week and the theme this year is Start Asking. 1 in 8 couples struggle with infertility. This story is for them.

Trigger Warning: Discussions of infertility.

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or anything related.

"You're doing everything right, Rose."

"Then why isn't it happening!?" Rose snapped, so tired of hearing the same things at ever appointment she went to. "Every bloody time I'm in here you tell me I'm doing everything right, so why am I not pregnant? Why am I not rushing home to be with my baby?"

Her doctor, a kind woman only a few years older than Rose named Marguerite Connolly, made a small hum of sympathy. "I wish I had more answers for you, Rose. PCOS is a tricky condition to have. For right now, I want you to keep taking the medication that controls your blood sugar, keep exercising, and eating right. I want to see you again in five months. If you haven't conceived by then we can start talking about your other options."

Rose huffed, swiping at the traitorous tears that had made their way down her cheeks. She knew well what her other options were, just as she knew the cost of said options. "Yeah, fine," she responded, eyes downcast.

"I'm curious, Rose. Have you talked to anyone about what's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

Dr. Connolly continued, "I mean, have you shared your infertility struggle with anyone?"

"Well, my mum and dad know. And the Doctor, of course," she added.

The other woman smiled at her patient's nickname for her husband. "Yes, but what about any of your friends?"

Rose shrugged. None of her friends really knew what she and the Doctor were going through. The few times she had tried sharing, it invited questions that hurt, not to mention the unwanted advice. She swore if someone told her to just stop trying and it would happen, she would scream. "I don't like talking about it. It's too hard. 'Specially when they're all having babies and I'm... not."

"I know it's a difficult subject, but I want to encourage you to reach out. There are so many support groups out there."

"I'll think about it."

Her doctor nodded. "Please do. And feel free to contact me if you need any more info on those groups, okay?"

"Rose?" the Doctor called out as he entered their flat. All the lights in the main room were off, but she had texted him as soon as she'd arrived home from her doctor's appointment, so he was almost positive she was home. He gave a weary sigh. He'd wanted to attend the appointment with her, but she insisted she would be fine and there was no reason for him to miss work. He agreed, albeit reluctantly. Though she didn't like to discuss it, he knew the fact that they hadn't conceived yet was really starting to weigh heavily on her. "Rose?" he called out again, growing slightly concerned.

"Back here," he heard her weak reply from the direction of their bedroom.

As he entered their shared sleeping space, the sight he was met with nearly broke his one human heart. Curled up on their bed was his wife, tears streaming down her face. "Oh, Rose," he exhaled. Crossing the room in record time, he immediately climbed on the bed and curled himself around her. "What did the doctor say? Is something wrong?"

She shook her head. "Everything's, well, not fine, but the same."

"Then what is it, love?" he asked, running a soothing hand up and down her arm.

"I'm just so tired, Doctor. And it's not fair. When I got home, I ran into Mrs. Peterson, from next door, and she kept going on and on about how her daughter just found out that she and her boyfriend were expecting. And they weren't even trying!" Suddenly she was moving out of his arms and sitting up on their bed, looking thoroughly enraged with her hair a wild mass around her. "She was on birth control! And Mrs. Peterson was acting all disappointed at the thought of being a grandmother. It's shite, Doctor!"

"It is."

"And do you know what else? If the reason... If the reason we couldn't have children was somehow because of what happened with my crossing dimensions... I could almost except that, you know? But this? This stupid condition I have is so bloody human."

The Doctor sat up and kissed his wife's cheek. "I'm sorry, love. If I could fix this somehow..." he trailed off. There was no point in continuing. He'd already voiced his guilt over no longer having all of time and space at his fingertips to fix this.

"Not you're fault," she mumbled, curling herself back into his side. "It's my stupid body's. Dr. Connolly said at my next appointment we'll talk about what other options we have. But I know she'll want to discuss IFV, and we can't-"

"Shhh. It'll be okay, Rose. If that's the path for us, then we'll figure it out."

Rose sniffed. "I'm sure she'll bring up adoption again too."

"It is an option," he said with a nod. The subject of adoption was one that hadn't discussed in detail yet.

"It's not that I'm against it. I wouldn't mind it, ya know? I sort of like the idea of there being this little kid out there somewhere that needs a home, that needs us. But I just want so badly..." her words cut off with a sob as she wrapped her arms around herself tightly. "And every time I think... I was four days late, Doctor! And then I started and it felt like I just died a little inside."

The Doctor released his own sob at her words. To hear that the most precious being in his universe, in any universe, was in that much pain and he couldn't fix it? It was incomprehensible. Clutching her close, he maneuvered them so they were lying back on the bed, each borrowing strength from the other as they mourned over what they had yet to experience and what they feared they would never experience. At some point, their tears were spent and they fell into an exhausted sleep, waking just a few hours later to pull on their night clothes and grab a drink of water.

When the Doctor woke the next morning, he was surprised to find himself in bed alone. It was a very rare occasion when Rose woke before he did. Pulling himself out of bed, he went in search of his wife. He was surprised to find her sitting at their kitchen table, a full plate of toast and jam next to her, her eyes glued to her laptop.

"Morning," he greeted.

Her eyes briefly flicked to his before moving back to the screen in front of her. "Morning. Tea's in the kettle if you want."

"What are you up to?" he asked as he poured himself his morning cuppa.

Rose cleared her throat as she lowered the screen of her laptop. "I've decided to reach out. I, uh, called Dr. Connolly and she gave me some information about some support groups for women struggling with PCOS and infertility in general. S' amazing, Doctor. I never realised how many women, how many couples, struggled with it cause nobody talks about it. But you know what?"

The corner of his mouth tugged up. "What?"

"That's not okay. If so many people deal with this, why do we not talk about it?"

"That's a great question."

For the first time in what felt like weeks, a genuine smile graced Rose's face. "Yeah, and I think it's time we start asking more. No matter what happens, we're not alone in this, Doctor."