DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who; the BBC sadly does.

So, after nearly six months of brainstorming and drabbles and rants, I finally finished The Time Lord's Wife. I've been wrestling with writing this first chapter since early December, and now I am finally posting and I am so excited for it! This is my first major story in the Doctor Who fandom, and I really hope that you guys enjoy it! The idea was inspired by The Time Traveler's Wife as well as a quote I made up once for one of my graphics: "Why can't be just run from love and avoid the pain of getting hurt?"

This story means a great deal to me, so I really hope you like it. Thanks for reading.

Erin

SUMMARY:
Before the Doctor can regenerate into his eleventh body, the TARDIS shows him Bad Wolf who offers the Doctor a chance to change his entire life by allowing him a chance to go back to New Year's Day in London, 2005, and meet Rose Tyler once more. The catch is that he has three months to convince her to fall in love with him, and then his ninth incarnation will come to take her away on his magic blue box for the first time in her life.

Whatever happens between now and then, Bad Wolf warns him, will impact his future. However, one question remains. How can you convince a girl who doesn't even know your name to spend her forever with you?

Chapter One

Feeling my way through the darkness,
Guided by a beating heart.
I can't tell where the journey will end,
But I know where to start.
-Avicii, Wake Me Up

The pain was now coming in sharp bursts as his limbs throbbed in time with his hearts which continued to beat a billion light years per nanosecond, faster than a hummingbird's. As he stood there, a light snow fell upon the seemingly silent street that bordered the Powell Estates. He found his mind wandering to the image of a small bird fluttering from flower to flower with so much speed that it might even believe it could outfly anything that threatened it. However, the Doctor had done his own fair share of flying (more precisely running, mind you) and he knew how easy it was to fall victim to the universe's appearance. Based on how you look, you might develop some egocentric tendencies, might think of yourself as something flawless and immortal. It's not necessarily a bad thing-you should always have confidence in who you are and what you can do, but, in some instances, too much confidence can be your downfall.

For a short and silent moment, the Doctor closed his eyes and thought back to a time when he had been the little hummingbird, flying through time and space without a regard in the world. There had once been a period where he could be carefree and happy, his smile never fading and his eyes always sparkling, but then came the Time War. Since then, he had been yearning for the single piece of happiness that the universe still owed him, clinging to the possibility that he was more than the Killer of His Own People, the Last of His Kind, the Oncoming Storm, the Darkness, and the destined Valeyard.

That little hummingbird began to shoulder the burden of all it had seen and all it had done as the years turned into decades and the decades became centuries until the weight slowly began to kill the once beautiful and fluttering creature. Now a days, the Doctor knew he would forever carry that guilt and regret within him, and while there may be times when it threatened to crush him, he could always grow himself a brand new pair of wings, stronger wings that were born from his previous grievances and made to sustain his strength for the many centuries to come.

Perhaps, he thought to himself, it was time for him to grow a new set of wings to continue on with his journey; his song was coming to an end, after all.

The Doctor struggled to push himself toward the TARDIS as he traipsed through the deserted street, the lights strung over high above twinkling like the stars lost behind the overcast sky. The light snow fluttered down around him, melting into liquid drops as they brushed against his fevered skin. He swallowed thickly, struggling to hold back the radiation as it bubbled beneath his skin; with each step, he could feel it boiling to the brim, threatening to overflow the moment he let his defenses fall even slightly. However, he continued the long journey to his blue box, Ood Sigma's song echoing in his mind, but he paid it no heed. He refused to lose sight of his destination; he couldn't risk regeneration on the street for all to see.

Not with Rose so close.

The Doctor clenched his hands into tight fists, his nails digging into the heels of his palms hard enough to draw blood if his nails weren't so blunt. He desperately sought an outlet for his pain, and if damaging his body was his only means of doing so, then he was all too happy to succumb to the antic-it wasn't like this body was going to last much longer anyway.

"This song is ending, but the story never ends." Ood Sigma's voice sounded over the symphony of pain and confusion, swirling around inside the Doctor like a tsunami about to crash over a city.

If the Doctor had learned one thing during all his centuries as a hummingbird, fluttering through time and space without looking back, it was that he always had to face the inevitable at one point or another. He had spent such a short amount of time in this body when compared to the centuries he had spent with his others. Like the sand in an hourglass, the past few years had been nothing more than a few grains, seemingly meaningless in the full scheme of things; and yet, they'd been significant all the while. The Doctor knew that the time he had spent as his tenth incarnation had defined him in more ways than one, moments that he would hold close to his hearts for the many years that would follow. However, a large part of him feared that, when he continued his story into his eleventh life, those seemingly "meaningless" people would no longer hold the same significance that they did now.

Either way, the Doctor knew, it was time to face the inevitable.

He approached the TARDIS out of pure will, gritting his teeth against everything that tried to hinder him. He came to a halt, fishing for the silver key in his pocket before inserting it and allowing himself into his home. He leaned against the door to catch his breath before pushing himself up the ramp, gripping the rail beside him until his knuckles turned white from the sheer pressure he exerted; the TARDIS uttered a low hum in greeting.

His blue box, his lifelong companion-oh how he hoped she wouldn't be hurt during the regeneration.

Without any further thought, he shrugged his beloved Janis Joplin coat over a coral support strut, already missing the familiar weight of the fabric on his shoulders. With each step, he felt as if he were shedding a piece of himself as he came closer to his regeneration until his whole heart and soul were out in the open, bruised and bloody for all to see. He could no longer prolong the inevitable, and as he lifted his hand to his face, the golden energy hovering over his skin, he took a deep breath to prepare himself.

The Doctor let his gaze flicker about the room until they came to rest on the console; it was as if the TARDIS knew he needed her support. His ship's hum grew louder as if it could potentially drown out the Oods' telepathic song in his head. The Doctor flicked a switch on the console, beginning the dematerialization sequence and setting it to orbit the planet he had come to love-the planet he had come to think of as his home.

As he stepped around the console, feet scraping the grated floor, a flash of light caught his eye. He turned on his heel, mouth dropping open on its own accord, as he let shock seize control of his body.

Golden dust began to ensue from the time rotor, a wisp of light twirling through the air with no set destination. A sliver of fear erupted in the Doctor's chest, striking his hearts like an arrow poised to kill. The light was like stardust as it drifted through the room, although, it seemed to be contained to a certain area, molding together to become a larger entity. The Doctor could feel his hold on the regeneration energy and radiation fading quickly as panic set in. Whatever the unknown mystery was-he was in one the most vulnerable positions at the current moment, and if something or someone were to attack, he stood no chance of victory in the midst of battle. The Doctor clenched his hands into tight fists as his body tensed, settling into a defensive stance with his eyes narrowed in concentration. His limbs were trembling as if he were experiencing an inner earthquake, shaking as the turmoil brewed and the horror set in.

The Doctor didn't want to admit it, he would give almost anything so long as he never would be forced to say it, but he was scared, terrified even.

He was hurt. He was dying. And he was scared, so scared.

The golden dust twirled in a celestial dance around a fixed point, billions of stars circumnavigating the center of a galaxy; they blinked rapidly, in and out of existence, becoming brighter and brighter with each reappearance. It truly was a beautiful sight to behold, and if the Doctor wasn't scared to death, he might have appreciated it as one of the most remarkable events to ever witness in the known universe.

The golden light was forming a faint outline of a person. He could see the curves of a torso and the lines of its hair; if he concentrated hard enough, he might have noticed the faint upturn of its lips and the finer details of their face. In an ironic twist at the end of a nightmaric tale, the Time Lord was running out of time, and there was nothing to stop it.

The radiation was increasing its fight, and his body was burning now. He couldn't hold on any longer, and he was going to die in a explosion of light, fire, and pain. Much like his people. Fitting, the Doctor thought, how his life would end in the same burning he had sentenced them too merely hours before. The pain was building in crescendo, and he felt the regeneration energy slipping through the cracks in his armor. He inhaled sharply, tears pricking in the corners of his ears, as he cast a frantic glance over at golden figuring materializing by his side.

Suddenly, though, the gnawing pain ceased, and a flash of frost sliced through his entire body. The fire in his veins were coated over with brush of ice, diminishing the pain with towering waves and ebbing tides. His time sense was frozen in a single moment, and he staggered forward, falling forward onto trembling hands and knees. He stayed low for a few moments, shoulders heaving forward as he inhaled gasps of air, the oxygen like sweet nectar for his burning lungs. His head was spinning like a planet orbiting in its celestial dance, gravity and other forces playing a tug-of-war with his sense of balance. When the world finally righted itself, the Doctor forced his eyes open slowly, a head of golden hair clouding his vision. His eyes adjusted to meet sparkling chocolate ones, staring back him with all the happiness and wonder he contained whenever he saw something new and exciting in the universe.

Suddenly, he realized he recognized the person above him. He hurriedly pushed himself to his feet, eyes widening in complete disbelief. Utter shock rocketed through his body as he found himself staring at a young blonde woman with bright brown eyes and a brilliant smile. She wore a tan skirt over ripped dark gray leggings; a lacy white sweater hung off her shoulders in rags with a dark green vest carelessly thrown over the outfit as if it was the only thing keeping it together; and brown buckle boots scraped against TARDIS floor as she shifted her weight from side-to-side.

Rose Tyler.

"W-What?" he gasped out. "How-"

"Hello," she said and flashed him a full-tooth grin, giving him a tentative wave in response. She shrugged slightly but never once did her smile fade. "Long time, no see, eh, Doctor?"

"I-I don't understand," he stammered.

Had he truly died? Had he truly held off his regeneration for too long, eventually succumbing to the shadow of death that had been following him since he began running across the universe all those many centuries ago? If he had, in fact, "passed on" into the "Great Beyond", he didn't mind Rose being the one to greet him. After all, he had been telling the truth that time on Krop Tor: if there was one thing he believed in, he believed in her.

"Lost for words?" she giggled, the sound like a soothing antidote to his crazed mind. "Don't worry, there's a first time for everything. Mind you, I quite enjoy this. Fifty shades of speechless is a good color for you."

"Am I dead? Are you-" He broke off his question, but the remaining -dead too? lingered between them like an ominous silence.

Rose turned on her heel, glancing at him over her shoulder. "No, but I was never alive in the typical sense either." She walked over to the console, crossed her arms over her chest, and let her gaze flicker about the room. "I'm neither here nor there, dead or alive, real or imaginary. I'm everything and nothing, all at once. A walking contradiction, if you will."

"I don't understand," the Doctor said once more, scrunching his eyebrows in confusion.

"You know, for a man who knows everything, you sure say that a lot," Rose said. "Along with, 'But that's impossible.' I don't know whether to chalk it up to being narrow-minded or just plain stupidity."

"Hey!" he exclaimed indignantly, but Rose interrupted his protest.

"As fun as this is, I'm not here to insult you," she said in a soft voice. "We need to talk, Doctor."

"I still don't understand," the Doctor continued, scrutinizing her every movement. "How are you here? Am I dead? ...You never answered my question."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Yes, I am here. No, you're not dead. Is that clear enough for you to understand?" The Doctor managed a small nod, and she huffed rather loudly. "I'm really here, you know, not just some hallucination."

"I-I…" His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, so he swallowed, his throat muscles contracting at the same time, and forced out, "I think I know that. You're… You're actually… here." He stressed the final word out, almost unable to believe it himself. "How are you here though? Rose, you should be in another dimension-"

"But I'm not your Rose," she answered in a grave tone. "Your Rose is back on Earth in January of 2005, unable to comprehend in her wildest dreams what will happen in a three months' time." The Doctor opened his mouth to voice his thoughts, but the woman narrowed her eyes in his direction. "If you dare say you don't understand, I will personally knock you into your next regeneration."

He snapped his mouth shut, and she smiled with pride. "Good choice." She turned on her heel, rocking back and forth before raising her eyes to the time rotor. The blue-green light cast an eerie glow over her pale skin, her shadow falling over the Time Lord. "Now, we have some things we need to discuss. Actually, one thing. Well, to be more specific, one person."

"And who would that be?"

"Rose."

"But you are Rose," he said.

She whipped around to face him. "Like I said before, Doctor, I am not your Rose. I am a version make up of her flesh and bones, her mind and soul, but that is where our similarities end. Of course, I am Rose Tyler, but I'm also something completely different." The Doctor's puzzlement remained, and she stifled a light laugh. "A walking contradiction, remember? 'I create myself' at its finest."

Realization crossed the Doctor's face. "B-Bad Wolf?"

"I always knew you were a clever boy," she said, her tongue poking out between her teeth as her grin widened. "Hello again, Doctor." She wiggled her fingers in a small wave before twisting her features into a straight face, pressing her lips into a resolute expression. "And, like I said before, we need to talk about Rose."

"I don't have time," he replied, gesturing towards himself. "I was in the middle of the regeneration… How did you stop that anyway?"

Bad Wolf's eyes glowed a light gold. "My little secret, Doctor. I've managed to freeze time. Life and death at my command, day and night just around the corner. Pausing your impending regeneration was a piece of cake. Just a flick of my wrist and it's gone in an instant." She halted her explanation to survey him. "My, my, would you look at that. I've managed to silence the biggest gob in the universe."

The Doctor stood with a rigid posture, his thoughts racing a million light years a second in order to catch up with the situation at hand. Walking into the TARDIS with radiation boiling to the brink inside of him, he had been prepared to leave everyone and everything associated with his tenth incarnation behind him. He was going to die, and whether or not he accepted it, he wanted to be able to move on without anything holding him back. After all, if a new man was going to run off, he deserved a new adventure to chase after. He couldn't possibly be limited to a past life that he may or may not feel the same for as he did before. He needed to move on; he needed to change (and though he didn't want too, a part of him knew that, perhaps, it was time to move on).

"Why did you stop it?" the Doctor asked once more as he ambled towards Bad Wolf with an anxiety-stricken expression.

Bad Wolf stared back at him, puzzlement nipping at the edges of her features. "Stop your regeneration?" She snorted. "Isn't it obvious? I needed to talk to you, and I couldn't trust a disoriented Doctor to make a decision about my offer."

He came closer. "What offer could you possibly make me?"

In a single instant, everything changed. Bad Wolf's joking demeanor vanished, and the Doctor was left with no time to react as she suddenly disappeared from his view. He whirled around, eyes frantically searching for the familiar figure throughout the console room-from the rafters to the lower level-and yet she did not reappear.

"Rose Tyler," Bad Wolf's voice suddenly said, reverberating off of the TARDIS walls. "She means a lot to you, Doctor."

"What does that have to do with anything?" he asked. "I-" How could he sum up everything that Rose meant to him with a few simple words? How could he explain what had occurred in the last hour in regards to meeting her for the last time on that snowy street bordering the Powell Estates? There was no possible way.

"It has to do with everything." Bad Wolf appeared in the rafters directly above him, swinging her legs absently. "I saw you. I heard you.." She raised her eyes to meet his own, and he was struck by the strength in their gaze. "There you were on January first, 2005, in London, England. That was when a young and carefree Rose Tyler met a battle-ridden and close-to-death Time Lord. This was a Rose before everything happened, and this was a Doctor after everything was done." She chuckled lowly, and the Doctor didn't miss the bittersweet look that crossed over her. "You don't know what you did, Doctor. By traveling back, you opened up a window of possibilities. You made one moment change everything."

She shook her head. "I saw you out there. You were going to tell her how you truly felt. You watched her turn her back, and you opened your mouth for just a second-a single second. In that second, you were going to tell her you loved her. In that second, it didn't matter that it was before she ever met you: all you knew was that you had never, in all the time you spent together, told her those three little words."

The Doctor swallowed thickly, and he desperately wished for her silence. Bad Wolf was drudging up thoughts he had hid away to avoid the pain of what happened and the knowledge that he could easily change it if he was tempted. He knew that, in his tenth life, he had many chances to tell Rose Tyler that he loved her. On Bad Wolf Bay, he was going too, but he ran out of time. On Krop Tor, he could have but instead chose to cut time short. On Bad Wolf Bay with his part-human self, he should have, but time was drawing to a close and it was clear what direction it was headed in. And here, on New Year's Day, he couldn't because time didn't allow it. Rose Tyler had somehow become one of the most important people in his life after nine hundred years, and he knew that she was even important enough that, for a split second, he was willing to risk everything just to tell her he loved her.

However, like many instances before, he simply ran out of time.

Bad Wolf placed her hands in her lap and leaned forward, staring intently at the Doctor. "Why didn't you tell her? What stopped you?"

What stopped him? He wanted to wave it off, tell her she was wrong, but she was the Bad Wolf-she could see the past, present, and future all in a single moment. Why did he have to explain himself if it wasn't already obvious enough? He had never intended for that moment with Rose Tyler to be the first time he told her how he felt. He had wanted to, but he knew he couldn't possibly fulfill that desire. Instead, he had used that moment to finally let her go. It had been a chance for him to say a proper goodbye-one that didn't end because time had ran out, one that hadn't ended because it caused too much pain. He could have changed everything, of course, but what good would have come from it? She would have thought it was a drunken proclamation from a random stranger in an alleyway. How could he say "I love you" when it would have meant nothing to the girl who meant everything?

So, instead, he used that moment for his last "goodbye" and Rose's first "hello." After all, it was supposed to be the first day of her forever and the last day of his.

"It doesn't matter," the Doctor finally said, but the Bad Wolf refused to accept his answer.

"What stopped you?" she pressed on. "You have all of space and time at your fingertips, Doctor. You could have easily changed everything. Why didn't you?"

It was all too much for him. His mind was whirling about inside, thoughts spewing left and right. He had prepared himself for his regeneration, said goodbye to the people who mattered, but now this entity had come back to haunt him in his final moments, prodding the subject (the person) he had forced himself to move on from… Just so it wouldn't hurt anymore.

Finally, the Doctor snapped. "Because I ran out of time! She runs off with me in three months, don't you understand? No good could come from that. No one should have the power to change that. I… I don't want to change that!"

"But time can be rewritten," she said, and he froze as the horror of what she was offering struck him.

"No!" he snapped with fire in his eyes. "Not those times! Never those times! Not one moment!" His fury left him as he recalled the last time he had heard those words in the Library with River Song: the woman who would someday become someone so incredibly important to him (someone Rose had become in his fleeting daydreams) that it crushed him to think about how her story would end. He pulled himself away from that memory and turned back to Bad Wolf. "Never those times. Never. Don't you dare."

Bad Wolf shot him a victorious smirk. "And that's exactly why I'm here."

He quirked an eyebrow up in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Bad Wolf disappeared from his line of sight and reappeared once more behind him, lounging across the TARDIS console. "I have that power; I can change it all. I can decide who lives and who dies. However, this choice lies with you, Doctor. Will you simply go on trying to survive or try to live for once in your life? Will you fall in love with the risk of a broken heart? Or will you choose to run from love and avoid the pain of getting hurt?"

"You're talking in riddles," he deadpanned.

She continued as if he hadn't spoken. "It's funny, Doctor, because you don't truly understand your connection with Rose Tyler. You know you love her, but you just won't admit it. You've done everything in your power to show what you can never say, but that isn't enough. You've spent all this time trying to convince Rose that you love her, but now you must convince Rose that she loves you…. If you choose that path, of course." She twitched her nose and cocked her head to the side. "First though, I want you to admit it."

"Admit what?"

"Admit it," Bad Wolf said, leaning forward the console as she crossed her arms across her chest. "You love Rose. You love her so much that you changed everything about yourself in order to fit her greatest desire."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows in protest. "I didn't change everything-"

"Oh, please!" Bad Wolf scoffed, chuckling lowly as she pushed herself to her feet. She strode towards him, the bottom of her shoes scraping against the metal grating. The Doctor recognized it as the same manner in which Rose had once walked whenever she entered the console room after waking from a long night's sleep, dazed with a warm mug of tea clasped tightly in her hands. "You knew what she liked in a man! You remember everything from the night you, her, and Jack Harkness broke into the TARDIS's liquor cabinet and pulled out the hypervodka."

The Doctor swallowed thickly. "I don't know what you're talking about-"

Bad Wolf's eyes flared a molten gold, the same color Rose's eyes had shined while mixed with the heart of the TARDIS. The sight caused him to stumble back a few steps, mouth dropping open on its own accord. "I'm the Bad Wolf, Doctor. I can see everything." She pursed her lips in a resolute expression and came closer. "All that is, all that was, and all that ever could be."

"You're really her then?" the Doctor asked, eyes widening as comprehension swept over him like a wave crashing onto the shore. As sure as he might have been before, the idea that Bad Wolf was truly here was ludicrous, but now he knew the truth. This wasn't some hallucination caused by his impending regeneration-he was absolutely certain this was her.

"The one and only," she said. "Where was I? Oh yes, your face… Do you remember that daft old face you had when you first met Rose in Henrick's?" A dazed look crossed her face, and he knew she was going back to the moment he first met Rose Tyler. After all, Bad Wolf was a part of Rose Tyler that had been chasing him from the beginning, so it wasn't surprising that the entity had harnessed her memories. "Those big ears and those blue eyes… She missed that face, never stopped actually, but she grew to love this one." Bad Wolf gestured towards him as she spoke, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Because how couldn't she? You were everything she described that night… Do you remember what she told you after the sixth shot of hypervodka?"

Bad Wolf cast him a fleeting glance as she gestured for him to speak. The Doctor licked his lips before responding. "She said that her idea of a perfect guy was someone tall, a bit skinny, and had great hair." He muttered something under his breath, a blush dusting his cheeks.

"Ah, there we go!" she said, laughing lightly. "I knew you remembered somewhere in that dusty old head of yours." The Doctor narrowed his eyes at her choice of words, seeming to lose himself in his own thoughts. Bad Wolf sucked in her breath, holding out against all hope that those specific memories stayed hidden. They were from a timeline that had remained untouched and would only be ventured upon based on whatever effects the Doctor's decision had on his own personal timeline.

Desperate to continue the conversation, she turned the focus back on the topic at hand. "Besides, you kept your own face when you regenerated for a reason," Bad Wolf drawled out, rolling her eyes as her tittering laughter echoed through the room. "I don't think I've ever met anyone with vanity issues as severe as yours."

"I'm not vain," the Doctor said.

"You're right," she said, resting her gaze on the ground. "You didn't keep the same face when you regenerated because you were vain. You kept it because you didn't want to change, which is a completely different thing. Why would you? You even said it: 'Why would I? Look at me.' No, of course you're not vain, Doctor."

The Doctor closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "You don't understand. Rose came back, and I-"

"Rose," the Bad Wolf drawled out, a smile overtaking her features. She shook her head, blonde ringlets rippling like a curtain in the window. "It always comes back to her."

"Will you please stop interrupting me?" the Doctor said, throwing his hands into the air with exasperation.

"And listen to you ramble on and on and on?" She shot him a wolfish grin before leaning back against the time rotor. "I don't think so. All you ever do is talk; it's time you learn to listen, Doctor, and listen you shall-right here and right now." Crossing her arms against her chest, she narrowed her eyes in the Doctor's direction as if she was staring into the very depths of his soul. "No, Doctor. You are not vain. It wasn't vanity that caused you to keep the same face-it was humanity. You weren't too vain to change. You were too human."

The Doctor fell silent, gripping the railing surrounding the central console with a loose grip.

"The reason you kept that face can't be summed up with something as simple as vanity; it was something as complex as humanity." Bad Wolf halted her train of thought, seeming to ponder a specific point. "Well… I guess in a way vanity is a part of being human but…" She tossed her golden mane over her shoulder and locked her gaze with him. "Never once have you wanted to avoid regeneration as much as you did when you saw Rose Tyler again. It's humanity as its finest: love."

The Doctor paused, lost in his own thoughts. Love. It was such a small word: merely four letters in length but spoke volumes in a room of voices. It was a simple word with a complex meaning.

The dreamers believed it to be the one thing that freed someone from all the pain in life. They said it was worth fight for, risking everything for it. They advised one to keep their heart open because, when it came to matters of the heart, the bigger the risk equaled a greater reward. One could be blissfully happy with love, but it did not entitle perfection.

For the dreamers, falling in love was the easiest action to accomplish, but for the cynics, it was perilous business.

The cynics followed the belief that one must learn to guard their heart. They said that love wasn't worth fighting for because there was a chance one might get hurt. To them, love was a distraction that pulled them away from reality in order to satisfy the needs of the body raging with hormones. They kept their heads held high and never let the visions of romance faze them. They assumed that it was a good way to go about life, focusing on the more important aspects of society instead of immersing one's self in finding the One.

Regardless, the Doctor knew that love was a complicated mess. It had been ever since he realized he was "in love" with her.

He knew he had found love. For instance, he knew that if he didn't love her, he wouldn't feel his chest ache at the memory of when he lost her. He wouldn't get the butterflies in the pit of his stomach the first time he heard the sound of her laughter, like trilling bells echoing and creating a symphony from the vast nothingness of his life after the Time War.

Bad Wolf interrupted his silent reverie with a wry smile. "Do you understand what I mean? Love is a part of being human. Thinking and feeling, knowing and loving – it's these traits that make human beings real and whole. They make them complete, and it's terrible, even, how many times these traits can break them as well. They heal and destroy.

The Doctor shivered. Love had seemed like a natural part of his world with Rose, and he didn't know where he would have been if it hadn't been for her love. All he knew was that they had once promised a forever together, but time cut that short too.

"Which brings me back to my offer," Bad Wolf said, narrowing her eyes in the Doctor's direction. "I'm here to offer you a choice. You were regenerating, prepared to leave all those people behind you and start anew." She leaned forward, resting her head in her hands. "But you don't want to leave. It breaks your hearts right now just thinking about everything you're going to lose and everyone you've already lost." He knew she was alluding to Rose, living in another dimension with his part-human self. "You don't know what you'll miss by leaving, Doctor. You'll miss out on the birth of Martha and Mickey's son. You won't be around to see Donna return to school."

"School?"

"Yeah." Bad Wolf turned her gaze to the ceiling, pulling out details of a potential future. "Studying psychology, I think. She's gonna be a therapist… Or a counselor. Something along those lines, I suppose. It's all because of you too." The blonde smiled grimly. "You're the man she can never remember but the one she can never forget."

The Doctor turned away, the idea of such a thing crushing him. Martha: the one who pushed him on. And Donna: his best friend. Their futures… He would miss it all.

"Rose Tyler," Bad Wolf suddenly said. "Your future lies with her. Her story has finished, but the prologue has yet to be written… You could change everything: have that future that you've always wanted with her, tell her you love her. I could give you that. I could give you all that."

"You can't!" the Doctor cried out, rushing towards her. "You can't! It would ruin everything. My past, my own personal history…."

"Silly, silly, Doctor," Bad Wolf said, shaking her head as she pushed herself to her feet. "You were always a daft old man at heart."

He flashed her a shaky smile. "Are you calling me senile?"

She giggled, her golden eyes twinkling like the twin suns of his childhood. "Something like that. Nevertheless, it's your decision: both paths will lead somewhere, but you choose the final destination. I am the Bad Wolf, and you have a very difficult decision ahead of you, my Doctor. Either you can regenerate and begin a new song in your eleventh body or accept my offer and begin a new path with Rose Tyler." She pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his hearts hammering beneath her fingertips. "You decide. A new song or a new life."

His mouth went dry, and his mind raced. "But… I can't do that. I won't change those times-"

Her eyes flashed again. "Rest assured, Doctor, nothing will interfere with your past. Your ninth incarnation will still come in March of 2005 and take Rose Tyler on a trip across time and space. That gives you three months."

"Three months for what?" he asked, unable to comprehend her offer.

"Three months to convince Rose Tyler to fall in love with you."

The Doctor's brown eyes widened a fraction more in complete disbelief. "Three months? I have three months and then what? I just leave?!"

"Those three months will leave you with two options: it will either change everything or nothing at all." Bad Wolf placed her other hand next to the one on his chest and nestled her head in the crook of his neck. "You can go on as your eleventh self, or you can take those three months. You'll go back to New Year's Day, 2005, and settle into a human life. You have three months to make Rose fall in love with you, and whatever happens between then and March, will impact your future. You will leave her after three months and come back to your TARDIS and fly away. Anything could happen. You could come back to this empty ship once more, or, she could even be here with you. You make never lose her, or she could be dead. The choice resides with you, Doctor."

Bad Wolf stepped back and gazed at him from behind her thick lashes. "Three months to change everything. Do you want to risk it?"

"I-"

"It's a simple answer," she told him, cocking her head to the side. "Yes or no?"

He shook his head slightly before raising his brown eyes to meet her glowing golden ones. "I don't want to go."

"Oh, trust me," she said, smiling fondly. "I know."

With that said, she pressed her lips to his own, and the world faded from view in a brilliant golden light.

Three months to convince Rose Tyler to fall in love you.
That's all you have to change your future. Will it be enough?