A/N: If you recognize it, I don't own it. Here's the conclusion of the Rageverse. Thanks to The White Leopard for being a wonderful beta!

Sing the Sun

It had been three years since she'd last seen him. Three years since she'd found the keys to his flat and his car in her mail. Three years since she had entered his ever-Spartan flat and found a note on his kitchen table. Across the top of the paper, he had scrawled a single word (travelling). Then he'd scratched the word out and written a new one, halfway down the page.

Running.

And that, Rose thought, might be the thing that saved him. She hoped it did. She hoped he found what he was looking for, wherever he ended up. Rose hoped, above all, that he would finally find some measure of happiness. Goodness knew, he hadn't found it here, in London. He hadn't found it with her.

Oh, that hurt tremendously. It hurt that he had left, that he had shoved her out of his life so forcefully, after all they had been through together. But it didn't hurt as much as the alternative. It was better than standing by him day after day, watching him struggle and not being able to help him. It was better than seeing him every day and knowing she had failed him.

It had been three years since she had last seen him, and one day since she had gotten the first postcard in her mail. The front of the card featured a beautiful, well-organized garden and the jaunty phrase Wish You Were Here! scrawled across the top. Rose flipped over the card. It was definitely addressed to her. The bottom corner proclaimed that the photograph was of a garden in Granada, Spain. The message portion of the card was empty, except for the name of a café and a single word in familiar handwriting: Allons-y.

What was a girl to do? Rose packed some clothes, locked her flat, and went.

It took her most of the day, when her flight landed in Spain, to find the café. It was a tiny mom-and-pop place, smelling of spices and tea. It was cozy and cramped and wonderfully homey. Rose made her way to the counter, where an elderly gentleman stood smiling at her.

"I'm looking for a friend of mine," she explained. "His name is Jason. He's about this tall, brown hair…" Rose began to gesture his approximate height, but the man cut her off with a smile and a nod.

"Si, si. English!" he agreed. "Been here. Left a message for a pretty girl. You are Rosa?" Rose couldn't help grinning as she confirmed. The old man bustled off to a back room and returned, moments later, with another postcard, a bag full of freshly baked spice biscuits, and firm instructions to come back for a visit once she'd caught up with her English man.

Rose flipped the postcard over eagerly. The message was, again, brief. This time, it was the name of a restaurant in Egypt. She couldn't keep from smiling as she realized what he was doing – he was leading her on a world-wide chase!

She went to Egypt.

Rose Tyler travelled the world, following Jason's postcards. From Egypt, she crossed the Atlantic and visited New York (so good they named it fifteen times, his note said). She picked up her next card from a street vendor in Time's Square and headed to Naples (Christmas 1860, Barbarella). Naples was gorgeous, but she was only too glad to leave it for Versailles (I still don't understand why I couldn't keep Arthur). Next, he took her to Las Vegas (we never did get to see Elvis), Siberia (it's not a frozen sea, but it's freezing cold), Papua New Guinea (surprisingly good at shotput), and Barcelona (where the dogs have no noses. How do they smell?).

His playful notes had her smiling and hoping desperately that he had found himself after all. He'd always hated it when she referenced their travels in the other universe. Clearly, though, he remembered every single adventure they'd had.

When she had visited almost every Earth-based place they'd been (and then some), he still wasn't finished. Next, his cards led her on a tour of the world. Jason led her through Israel, Nepal, and China (on his card had been a picture of the Great Wall, with the words Bad Wolf graffiti'd on in Sharpie). He took her on a tour of South America and then brought her back to Asia with a picture of a mountain in Turkey and the words meet me at the highest point. The sunrise is beautiful.

Rose stared at those words. Meet me. She'd left London almost two months ago, but it had been weeks since she expected to actually meet with him in any of the places he took her to. She'd thought it was just a game for him, leading her on a merry chase. She had participated in his game willingly, even eagerly, even without any promise of an end to it. The constant travel felt good after so long in one place. It wasn't exactly travel by TARDIS but the change of pace was wonderful. She had missed the travel almost as much as she missed her travel companion – whether he had one heart or two, whether he called himself the Doctor or named himself after one, she missed him.

She flew to Turkey that night and spent most of the following day in a rented jeep, heading toward that mountain. She stayed the night in a tiny lodge and rose hours before sunrise to hike to the top of the mountain. It was a long walk along the carefully-marked trails that snaked up the mountainside. By the time she reached the peak, the eastern horizon was burning pink and orange with pre-dawn light.

There he was, perched calmly on a boulder, looking out across miles and miles of mottled green-and-brown plains. Rose stopped short and just – just looked at him.

He looked so different than she had ever seen him. The Doctor – at least, the second face she'd known - never wore anything but suits. Jason took it a step further; he always looked like he was getting ready to attend lunch with the Queen, even though the bank he worked for had a relatively relaxed dress code. Rose had never seen him in anything other than pressed white Oxfords and shiny black shoes. Now, though, he was wearing a hooded jumper run across with green and grey stripes, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His jeans were faded, ripped across the knees and fraying at the hems. His green trainers were caked in mud.

"Jason?"

He turned at the sound of his name. The smile that spread across his lips nearly took her breath away. She had never seen him smile before, and especially not at her. He greeted her with, "You made it! Come have a seat."

He patted boulder, inviting her to sit next to him, but Rose didn't move. "Look at you," she whispered. "You're…" She trailed off, shaking her head mutely as words failed her.

"I know," he said, smiling just a little. "Now come and sit; there will be plenty of time to stare at me later."

Rose tentatively sat next to him. She couldn't help but be tense; she couldn't even remember the last time he had actually wanted her to be close to him. She had missed being close to him. She had missed the familiar warmth of having him near, but this – this was so, so unfamiliar. Jason turned his attention to the sunrise but Rose couldn't take her eyes off of him. She drank in all the differences and all the things that were the same, and all the things that had changed when he got to Pete's World and then changed back to how they were. His hair was messy again, like the Doctor's. He always used to slick it down before. Rose had forgotten how great his hair was.

His eyes were smiling for the first time – and not like they had smiled when he was the Doctor, either. They were really smiling, even though his mouth wasn't, as if he was really and truly content and not just shoving bad things away so that he could be happy for the moment.

His face and arms were tanner than she was used to. At least, she thought they were; it was difficult to tell in this lighting. He was wearing a watch on his left wrist and had a simple leather cord tied around his right. There were beads of some sort on it – probably a souvenir he'd picked up on his travels.

Jason sighed. "Rose," he admonished, "this really is too good to miss. Just look." He set a hand on her shoulder and firmly directed her attention toward the horizon, just as the sun began to emerge over it. Suddenly, that glowing red disc set the world alight with the gentlest kind of fire. Everything around them turned a wonderfully delicate gold as the sunlight struck the rocks, painting them in shades of light.

"Oh," Rose breathed. "This is beautiful." It had been so long since she'd seen anything like this; she hadn't thought that Earth, pokey little Earth, was capable of producing such a magnificent sunrise.

"I've been here for two and a half weeks," Jason agreed quietly. "Never missed a sunrise yet. It's different every morning, but it's always worth waking up for."

Rose settled more comfortably onto the rock, beginning to relax now. "You sound so peaceful," she marveled quietly. Jason took her hand.

"I know who I am now. That's enough to make anyone peaceful."

His hand was calloused in ways she wasn't used to. It was a worker's hand, now, not a scientist's, not an adventurer's, and most definitely not the hand of a man who sat at a computer all day. But their hands still fit together so well. His skin was warm and dry.

"Who are you?" she asked.

Jason turned to look at her. The sunlight shot through his untidy hair, turning it red and gold. His beautiful brown eyes, solemn and smiling at the same time, met hers without hesitation and without fear.

"I'm Jason Watson."

There was something in the quiet, confident way he pronounced those words that made it infinitely more than a simple introduction. It was as if he had found that everything he needed to know about himself was summed up in those words. Somehow, the way he said his name told Rose that everything was going to be just fine.

Sunbeams touched the dewy rocks and set them sparkling. Without fanfare or fuss, the air filled with glittering rainbows and quiet tranquility. Somewhere nearby, a bird chirped.

"Did you like your world tour?"

"I loved it." Rose smiled at the memories of all the places she had been in the last month. "Some of those places were just… incredible."

"I set it up so that you'd see all my favorites."

"Thank you. But… why?"

Jason shrugged uncomfortably, looking at the scenery instead of at her. He changed the subject.

"It wasn't just a game, Rose. I need… I need to talk to you. I need to apologize. I really treated you horribly. I'm sorry for that. For everything I used to say." His free hand pressed against his chest, the right side – a movement Rose was well familiar with. But then he touched the left side of his chest, too. Finally, his fingers lingered over his breastbone, where he'd taken a bullet for her sake. Rose squeezed his hand more tightly.

"I never once held it against you. I just… wish I could have helped you. Everything I did just upset you more. So, I'm sorry, too."

He shrugged again. "It doesn't matter anymore." Jason scuffed his feet against the rocks, coughed, and asked, "Do you love me, Rose?"

The abruptness of his question bounced the answer out of her without hesitation. "Of course I love you." She tried not to be offended that he needed to ask.

Jason shifted around to face her fully. He took her other hand in his. "No, I don't think you do." When she opened her mouth to protest, he shook his head slightly. "Hear me out. You love the Doctor. I think you always have. You thought you loved the man I was, but you never really knew me. And now… It's been three years. I still look like him, but I've changed, Rose. I've changed a lot. I'm a stranger to you. And you're just as much a stranger to me. So - do you love me?"

He spoke gently and logically, so much so that Rose – far from being hurt by his words – saw exactly what he meant. He acted nothing like the Jason she knew, and neither did he act like the Doctor. He was a new man now. She blinked back tears and looked away from him, reluctant to tell him that he was right – that the man she loved wasn't the man he had become. His regeneration hadn't changed her feelings for him, but three years of traveling had. She almost felt like she had failed him again by not loving him despite everything.

"I don't know," Rose whispered at last, biting her lip and looking down at their hands. "I'm sorry, Jason. I don't know."

But Jason smiled, a bright grin of pure relief that spread across his face and assured her that she hadn't disappointed him in the least. "I was hoping you would say that," he confessed. His thumb stroked the back of her hand as his smile slowly faded. He searched her face for a moment. "I don't love you, Rose." He'd said those words before, but never like this. It was almost tender, almost… apologetic. "You're a stranger to me. How could I love you?" He shook his head. Rose squeezed his hand.

"When are you going back to London?" she asked.

"Oh – " Jason blinked at her, as if startled by her question. "I'm not." When her face fell, he reached out and touched her cheek. "I can't, Rose. I can't get sucked back into the rat race. Go to work, come home, eat, sleep, repeat… That would kill me. I can't do it. I'm sorry."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Travel. It's a big planet, now that I can't move instantaneously. And it's beautiful. I'm going to keep travelling until the day I die."

The warmth in his voice assured Rose that he was serious. He was happy to stay on this one little planet, an itty-bitty rock in an unimportant corner of the universe. But she couldn't help feeling a little bit hurt. "So this wasn't just… to see me again, to apologize. This is goodbye."

"It doesn't have to be." His answer came swiftly. It was followed by a silence as he considered what to follow it with. "We could keep in touch. Meet up every so often, even. Or…" His eyes darted anxiously away from her face.

"Or what?" Rose pressed.

"Or you could come with me."

Immediately, automatically, she drew back. The offer was made quietly and sincerely. Rose's mind raced. There were so many reasons to say no. She could do no good for him; they had learned that already. With her around, what if he converted back to who he'd been? She didn't want to take this peace away from him. Besides, she had a job (although they had probably fired her after a month of no contact), a family, a life in London. Her savings wouldn't last much longer if she kept buying airline tickets, either, and travel wasn't free for them anymore. There were so, so many reasons she should give him a hug and head back to London.

"You don't have to answer right now," he assured her.

There were so many reasons to say no, but Rose had made that mistake once before and she wasn't about to make it again. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

His smile lit up his entire face in a way that Rose was no longer accustomed to. He was dazzlingly handsome when he smiled like that. "I don't love you, Rose. But I... I still only have one life, and I think that we could be great friends."

Rose heard what he was saying, but more than that she understood what he left unsaid. He wasn't promising that he would grow to love her, or that she would love this new Jason as she'd loved the man who had run away. He wasn't promising forever, or happily ever after, or even that they could forge this relationship as easily as she and the Doctor had forged theirs. All he was promising was that he was going to try. He was promising that he would give her a chance to be his friend, to be a part of his life. He'd never given her that chance before, not really; he'd been too busy pushing her away. Still, Rose didn't care about what had happened between them before. All of those decisions three years ago, all of those stinging hurts and arguments, had led them to be on top of a mountain together, watching the sunrise today.

That's what he was doing, Rose realized. He wasn't promising forever; he was offering her today, for as long as it lasted. He was offering her sunrises that would always be different, but always worth waking up for. He was offering her all of that, and all she had to do was agree.

"Yeah," Rose answered, smiling. "Yeah. We could be great friends."

The sun rose. The new dawn light washed over them, washing away the night and the darkness. And for the two people watching, hand in hand, side by side, a new day dawned.