Disclaimer : All belongs to the BBC. (I just learned its more accurate to say "the BBC" rather than just "BBC", hooray for my American-ness...sorry guys in the UK...)

A/N : This started out a bit shorter than it actually ended as. I think...this is the longest thing I've ever written and posted! Yay for me!

Also, many many thanks to Lizzy Lovegood for being an amazing beta! I would have blundered through if not for her.

Reviews=Love so please R&R!

—tu es invincible —

She just stood there, head held high and a fire in her eyes. Their hands were intertwined, but he felt no warmth. She radiated a kind of determination that came off as, "If I see that twat again I will slap him into his next three regenerations," and it wasn't something that the Doctor wanted to to tempt. After all, he didn't have any regenerations to fall back on. He only had this one life and whether she wanted to share it with him or not was sitting on a very narrow, picket fence.

In all honesty, he couldn't blame her for her feelings towards him. Well, the original him. He himself wanted to hurt the first person that hurt his Rose Tyler, and if it so happened to be the original version of the Doctor, then so be it. Right now though, he needed to sort out Rose.

Not that she needed any sorting out. She wasn't the same nineteen-year-old chav - no, estate girl - that had been stuck at a dead end job taking her nowhere. She wasn't the girl that was pity-dating her best friend because it was safer than staying with abusive rockstar-extraordinaire Jimmy Stone. She wasn't even the scared, lonely girl that she had been on Satellite Five that first time with her first Doctor.

No, she definitely wasn't her. Rose Tyler, oh Rose Tyler...she was so much more. She was the conqueror of worlds. She was the blazing Bad Wolf. She was amazingly strong, having a tenacity that survived the worst poisons and the most heartbreaking situations. His Rose Tyler had an identity all her own.

It was this identity that she had built up around herself, impregnable walls to protect herself from further hurt, which needed to be sorted out. At least to him. He was hurt and upset and confused himself, but to be so confused by one pink-and-yellow human was not an emotion he could handle. Since he, the old him, had left her on that damned beach two years ago, she had changed. He'd seen it in her when she looked at him, gun balanced expertly in work-roughened hands. He'd seen the pain etched in her face, only disappearing when she smiled at him. Rose Tyler had changed, and she was so different.

What scared the Doctor the most was that, if Rose Tyler had changed, how could he even begin to be what she needed? Here they were, standing on that damned beach, years separating them from each other. He was what she had needed two years ago, but two years had produced an entirely different Rose. She was a product of those two years. He was her new-new Doctor, but he wasn't even sure that he belonged to her anymore. Judging by her expression, there was no questioning that she didn't belong to him. He was the 'elephant in the room.'

"Do you mind if I just...get some alone time? You know, just...give me some space for a few moments please?"

For the first time, she speaks to him. Her voice is rough from holding back emotion, and she's wearing a look that he can only call the Oncoming Storm. The Doctor's familiar with it, his face has certainly worn that look enough times. It's a look that leaves no room for argument, only a plea hidden in a grim 'dealing-with-things' mask.

And he is in no position to argue. If he does, he will only be on the receiving end of a Tyler-Woman-Slap, of which he is not fond. Worse, the fragile string that connects them is one strand closer to snapping altogether. Instead, he nods, looking deep into her eyes and trying to convey understanding through the space of a moment. Releasing her hand from his, he stuffs his own into his pockets and walks towards the highway.

It's more of a rustic road than a highway, but it's sufficient to drive away from this. Well...hitchhike away from this. As much as he used to despise getting domestic, he could go 'domestic' and leave. That's what boyfriends that weren't good enough did in the movies, wasn't it? But there isn't a car in sight. He sighs, resigned, and decides to ask Jackie what the plans are.

Jackie would know what to do. Jackie always knows what to do. She is the tough single mother, raising her precious daughter up off meager funds in Estate Housing. She is the bearer of the famous Tyler-Woman-Slap. She let her daughter run away, more than once, but still loved her when she came back. And she saved them. Jackie Tyler would know what to do.