A/N For those not familiar with the previous stories in this 'verse, this could still be read on its own as a post-Doomsday piece, though it will include references to the previous fics. The larger planned sequel, Beginning Again, will follow after this angsty yet necessary intermediate tale.

For the Doctor, this takes place after the events of Beginning Where We End and the standalone piece Synchronicity. And in the timeframe of the series, before Smith and Jones, during the companionless period when the Doctor described himself as "just wandering."

Prologue

The Doctor was alone. In aching truth, this had often been his familiar state of existence.

Same old life. Last of the Time Lords.

He was a man who had experienced his share of solitude through the long, weary centuries, but never had he felt this degree of desolation. Perhaps that was because his losses continued to compound until they now surpassed anything he had once attained. Or perhaps because the emptiness that now existed inside was left by the one for whom he had made a dangerous allowance. The one who had gained access into the deepest recesses of his soul.

Rose.

Even though he had initially fought against such a risky incursion, she had still managed to breach his defenses, leaving nothing left untouched within him. And thus, nothing left undamaged by her severance from the very core of his being.

Though the words had not come easily, their truth had transcended the limits of language. He loved her. Maybe more than he should have. Certainly more than was safe. Perhaps more than was wise, if the current condition of his fragmented hearts was anything to go by.

He had finally allowed his walls to come down and surrendered himself over to loving Rose on every level – mind, body and soul. Forming a sacred, inseverable bond with another being had carried the extreme risk of this current agony. And yet, brave or foolhardy, it was a risk he had taken. The depth of what they had shared, if only briefly, was now matched only by the depth of what had been lost.

Moving forward in the immediate aftermath had not even come by choice. He had been thrust into a new set of circumstances before the savage tears of separation had a chance to dry. He had done what he so often did and rose to Earth's defense yet again. But during this brave fight, he had not even been able to speak of Christmas past, recall the Powell Estate, or simply catch a glimpse of flowing blonde hair without being dragged back down by the long talons of grief's powerful clutches.

He had also nearly died in the midst of it all – and not just inwardly. If not for the intervention of the brazen human who had served as his temporary comrade that day, the drowning death of his adversaries would have been his own.

Yet in the end, he had somehow made it through another mad day. And in so doing, he had even thought that maybe he had found a possible friend who might be able to at least keep him sane.

She didn't want to stay, though. And he told himself that was fine. Even if she had, it never would have been permanent. Those who came into his life never were.

The woman had, however, asked just one thing of him in parting, as she looked into his eyes with a little more empathy than he was comfortable with.

'Just...promise me one thing. Find someone.'

The Doctor's face had hardened as his hearts did the same, just a fraction more. He didn't need to find someone else. The last thing he needed was more inevitable pain that would follow more inevitable loss.

'I don't need anyone.'

His stoic words had not convinced either of them.

'Yes, you do,' she had countered with bold compassion. 'Because sometimes I think you need someone to stop you.'

The Doctor had felt an icy shiver course down his spine when he considered what he might be capable of if Rose's loss tore just one more millimeter of fragile flesh from his hearts.

'Yeah,' he had breathed in acknowledgement of the truth, his voice a broken whisper.

He hadn't realized at the time how ominous a proclamation those words would become. There was no one to stop him now. No staying hand to temper his own. Time's Lord would soon stand at the crossroads, desperation driving him to lay aside his title in illicit exchange for another:

Time's Thief.

-:-:-:-

The Doctor stood in the vacant console room, staring blankly at the Time Rotor which pumped rhythmically, aimlessly.

He had moved on from saying a final goodbye to Rose. Moved on from his mad encounter with Donna. Moved on from one last trip to the place where his bond with Rose had been formed, in hopes of finding a modicum of closure.

But he had not moved on.

This was a skill he should have mastered by now in retrospect of his life. Time continued its ceaseless progression as seconds became minutes and hours and days. He was so tired. Tired of feeling void of emotion save for pain. Even if centuries were to pass, he knew the pain of Rose's loss would burn with him until his final death. She had become a part of him. He had opened himself to her, joined with her, and woven them more closely together than he had dared with any other. The absence of her presence in his mind was itself becoming enough to nearly drive him insane.

Even just a touch of insanity had perilous potential in the hands of a being such as himself. It could be a catalyst to spur reckless thoughts and dangerous actions.

Were the notions currently creeping into his thoughts truly reckless, though? He could not undo the costly battle that had taken place or tear down the walls between universes to reclaim what had been stolen, and he would not attempt such deadly endeavors.

He only yearned to be granted one thing, and it did not seem to be such an unreasonable desire.

Time.

Surely he, out of all the lifeforms in existence, could be allowed this simple wish. Time, however, was the one thing he could not control, regardless of his title.

Time was not his to command, but his tormented mind began to reason that surely he could be allowed, at the very least, to make one slight alteration. He just needed to see Rose one more time. Just once more. And she was out there, burning an indomitable trail through all of Time and space, her timeline spanning past, present and future – calling to him, taunting him, haunting his every breath.

If he could just snatch a glimpse, see her smile, hear her voice, catch her scent, or watch her breathe and bottle every precious stolen second inside and hide it away, then maybe the intense ache within would be dulled just enough to become tolerable.

This one desperate thought sent his tortured mind whirling, and the whirlwind left him unbalanced in its wake.

Or maybe, he thought with a disturbing thread of distorted reasoning, it gave him clarity – sweeping away the tangled mass of grief to see the possibilities.

He was the only Time Lord left in existence. He alone had all of Time at his beck and call. Yet he lived chained by dead, ancient rules that kept him from ever allowing his position to serve him – to save him. Harsh rules that said he could never go back.

Maybe once, just once, it was time to blur the rules. Blur, not destroy. There would be no lasting danger in that, would there? He had already brought a sun to its death just to tell Rose goodbye. Surely this was harmless by comparison.

The Doctor drew a quaking breath as a terrifying, magnificent plan spread its tendrils and took root. He was either losing his grip on sanity or finally thinking clearly. Either way, the Doctor's steps had purpose at last as he strode to the controls of the TARDIS and toward a single quest.

If the rules were ever worth discarding, they were worth discarding for this. He was going to see Rose Tyler one last time.