I swear this is the last time I'm re-posting with an edit! I fixed quite a few things that had been previously bothering me, as well as the ending, which I felt was much too abrupt. Hope you enjoy!

I don't own Doctor Who!

ONE HALF OF A TIME LORD

From a logical standpoint, everything was very simple: there was another Doctor. The meta-crisis Doctor. The part-human Doctor. He was, in every single aspect of his being (save for some of the anatomical), identical to the Time Lord that had left in his TARDIS a week ago.

But then why did it feel so different? So… Strange? Why did she have such a hard time believing it?

Because she never thought it would have been possible. Never in a million years. She was overjoyed, obviously, but it was a… bittersweet thing. Because no matter how identical in appearance, no matter what memories he had… He was not the same organism.

Except for the fact that he was.

There were times when she could easily wrap her head around it; when he'd forget that they were walking on eggshells and get excited by something, mouth running a mile a minute with facts and stories. In those moments, she would feel a rush of unconditional love and affection, and it was all so easy. Right then, he was her Doctor. There was nobody in any Universe who even remotely resembled him.

Nobody but his completely Time Lord counterpart. He was the real Doctor. Not this regeneration. This regeneration came from a hand. He should have been empty. Should have felt empty.

But he didn't. He felt the same and completely alien at the exact same time… And Rose had no idea how to make heads or tails of it all. It was almost as if once her mind broached the subject, she thought herself into multiple circles and was suddenly way out of her depth.

She may have been regretting her decision to stay, but only because it was so different than she thought it'd be. Different and sometimes very painful. It hadn't crossed her mind then: the way she'd feel after the fact, the dynamics of it all... she'd been too distracted.

She thought about it all the time now.

This Doctor was so quiet so often, trying to give her space even though she knew he was confused and hurt by it all. Rose never wanted to hurt him… In an odd, twisted way, she loved him. It was just- On some level, everything she felt towards him seemed wrong. Like she was betraying the other Doctor. The real Doctor.

Which was ridiculous, because they were technically the same person.

Except that they weren't.

The young woman groaned and threw herself on her bed, deciding she needed some air. The Fake Doctor had gone out a while ago, again giving his companion the space she'd needed. It was dark now, and Rose left her small house, starting for the very edge of her large lot; the top of a hill.

After her separation from the Real Doctor, Rose Tyler had secured a position at Torchwood and worked on getting through to the Other Universe. The blonde had bought herself a cozy house on a very large lot in the country. She had liked the quiet, the solitude… the darkness. And every night, no matter the weather, the young woman would take a five minute walk to the edge of her property and look up at the stars, vowing that she'd join him there again one day.

It was all useless now. Finished. She felt lost.

Rose moved along in the dark deftly, no longer needing a torch for the many times she'd made the trek. Upon reaching the top of the hill, however, she was surprised to see the silhouette of the New Doctor.

He turned upon her arrival but didn't grin. Instead, the brunette went back to the stars, sighing longingly. Rose approached him, looking up at the dark expanse as well.

He wanted to tell her he was sorry. Sorry that he was selfish; that he had confined her here; that seeing the stars might be impossible, even with the piece of coral from the TARDIS… that she would never get to see him again. He was sorry that he was the consolation prize. Second best. Not the real thing.

She had never said any of it, but he knew. He saw it in every movement directed towards him; cautious and unsure… He felt it every time her skin brushed his accidentally, with every forced smile that told him she was really trying, but even that was struggle. He had seen the way she'd looked at the other Doctor, and felt his singular heart constrict every time she now looked at him: like she was seeing a ghost.

It made this life unbearable.

Of course, he hadn't been expecting her to love him right away. He had wanted that, but could completely understand how confused and hurt she'd been. He was still getting used to the being human. It had taken them a day to get back to England and he had slept through his first forty-eight hours at Rose's house, waking up ravenous. His companion had smiled thinly and given him everything he'd asked for, but she'd been hesitant: hesitant when making him tea and offering him a banana… She didn't know if he still liked those things.

Since his arrival, she had yet to call him by his name.

It killed him. He didn't want to be confined here without his Rose Tyler. He couldn't be. A week had passed with her being present but not really there, and the Doctor was almost certain that having her near but not loving him was even worse than being apart. Because at least he knew she loved him then, at least then he could have spent the rest of her forever trying to get to her.

He had spent a week on Earth, and already, he felt claustrophobic. He couldn't do this. He couldn't stay on one planet for the rest of his life, living in a house. Not one planet, forever. Not without her. He briefly thought of when he and Rose had been stuck on Krop Tor and he had been forced to think of doing such a thing. A house with carpets and furniture. Fixed in space and time. A mortgage. A linear timeline. It had terrified the Doctor then, and that had been with Rose offering to share. Now, he was sure it would end him.

Sometimes, he felt like grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her until she understood. Because it was simple. It was easy. And it was so, so elegantly complicated that it was plain: He had given her himself as he should have always been with her; fun and energetic and attentive and present. A man who could afford to acknowledge that their love transcended space and time.

Couldn't she see that? Couldn't she see that the only way he and the other Doctor were different pertained to her? That they were only dissimilar because now, he could allow himself to love her unreservedly?

No. She was blind. Blind to this man who offered no complications, no unspoken boundaries, no stupid rules... Just simple love.

He truly had nothing now. Nothing but the clothes on his back and a small piece of his ship. These were the only two objects binding him to his home and people, to his past… And the weight of that realization far outweighed the burden of any Universe. He was longer 'The Doctor in the TARDIS'. In fact, to all parties concerned he wasn't even 'the Doctor'... He was a half-broken entity with absolutely no low level telepathic connections, and his mind was now disturbingly silent. It ached. He ached.

The Doctor was lost on Earth without his companion, and it made him feel as if he was drowning in a puddle; like he was stumbling blind into darkness and there was nothing to keep him from slipping away. The song of the TARDIS, the memories of Gallifrey; he had been a Time Lord, at least… He had been continuing as best he could, and there were times when he had been lonely, but he had been doing his proper job. He couldn't do that here. Couldn't regenerate. He could think like a Time Lord, but that was about the size of it. He couldn't do anything.

He was useless and grown out of a hand: it was no wonder Rose didn't want him.

The New Doctor gave his companion a sad smile, and looked more like his counterpart in that moment than any and all of the others combined. He looked comfortable in his skin, comfortable around her… Like he belonged in his suffering. And then he gave her the energetic grin that served to mask all that plagued him. The one that made her heart simultaneously race and sink to the pit of her stomach. It hurt, seeing him like that.

But that's who he is. That's who he's always been, underneath the surface: The Lonely God.

Rose felt a large stab of guilt: for all her frustration and confusion, she had somehow forgotten him. The Great Doctor, with all those memories, all that knowledge, all those brilliant thoughts… confined to a single planet. It was wrong. It was all wrong.

The blonde felt her heart ache and before she could stop herself, she slipped her hand into his, squeezing comfortingly. In any Universe, in any regeneration, she would always do whatever she could to ease the Doctor's pain.

Of his part, the Doctor looked at their entwined fingers as if it was a mirage, his thumb stroking her skin twice to be sure she was actually touching him. It felt wonderful to be holding her hand again.

No words were spoken for a long while, and though the contact was sweet and wonderful and felt incredibly intimate, he would not allow himself to be deluded. She was his friend here, and only his friend.

"He loves you, you know." He'd had to force the words from his throat, there was no way he could look at her as he said them. "The... Real Doctor. He still loves you."

Rose's breath hitched and her hand slipped from his. The Lonely God was falling,"I'm so, so sorry." He breathed.

A shaky breath now, steeling himself: "I'll try and get you back," he vowed, looking over at her. "I know that leaving wasn't fair to you but I had to stay here. The Doctor was being selfish. I was being selfish. But I promise, Rose, I promise I will never stop trying to get you back to him."

"It's impossible." Rose whispered, not fully trusting her voice. She was overwhelmed by his profession. Her heart was pounding, her brain was muddled, and she couldn't understand how this Not-The-Real-Doctor could possibly offer such a thing. To spend the rest of his forever trying to get her to another man (sort of) was insane in itself... But to do so when he had such strong feelings for her? That was incredibly selfless. And mad. Very, very mad.

Just like him: The Madman in the Blue Box.

"I'll bring you to him. I'll find a way."

And then none of it mattered anymore. Who he had been or was or wasn't suddenly held no bearing. Because he was her Doctor here and now. He had held her hand as they ran across Universe. He had shown her the improbable and done the impossible. He had made her see her own worth.

He possessed the same memories, the same quirks, the same mind. What did it matter if he had changed bodies again? They were the Doctor and Rose, they had been through it all: regenerations, parallel Universes, Slitheen, Daleks, the End of all Creation, everything. Things so wonderful and dazzling they could only exist in the sweetest of dreams and others so terrifying they only belonged in the most terrible nightmares. After all this time, they had finally been reunited... And she had wasted a precious week of their time together going over formalities.

"Why would you need to find a way when you're already here?" She turned to face him, hesitantly bringing her fingertips to brush his cheek. The Doctor scarcely breathed, heart racing as she traced his right brow. Rose.

She was re-learning him. Remembering. "My Doctor." She whispered, her fingers now brushing his side-burns. The blonde let out a breathy laugh as a memory struck her. "My new new new Doctor."

And then he kissed her. Soft and impossibly controlled, he pressed his mouth to hers. She saw. She knew. And then those words, those three tiny, impossible words: "I love you."

She loved him.

He nearly whimpered, completely overwhelmed. He wasn't alone. He had her. He'd always have her. She loved him. The Doctor's hands hesitantly drifted to rest on her hips, grounding him. Assuring him this was real.

"Rose. Rose. Rose-" Her name was a mantra tumbling from his lips, burning against her skin as he touched and tasted her, their bodies flush and kisses more intense. Rose's tongue came to swipe across the his bottom lip and he groaned, fingers gripping her hips tightly as her hands fisted the blue material of his jacket, whimpering.

Someone breathed an 'I love you'.

How could she have wasted a week of this? Rose ran her fingers through his hair, relishing in the feeling of him pressed up against her. Of his part, the Doctor locked his arms around her waist, briefly wondering how humans possibly managed with a single closed circulatory system... his heart felt like it was going to burst.

They pulled away then, chests heaving as the Doctor rested his forehead against hers, grinning widely. Rose returned the expression, pressing her lips to his softly as she sighed, their bodies swaying in the darkness. "Sorry it took me this long." She breathed into his lips. "I-"

He cut her off with a kiss, deciding he very much liked that he could do that now. "Doesn't matter."

"Doctor-"

Another kiss.

"Doc-"

And another.

Rose giggled, the noise muffled by another peck. "Rose Tyler... Oh, I missed you." He murmured.

She grinned. "I missed you, too."

He pulled back, a giddy expression adorning his face. "I know. You spent all your time trying to get back to me." His voice dropped to a whisper. "That was brilliant."

Rose shrugged, her fingers sliding into his back pockets. The Doctor raised a brow. "I wasn't going to leave you have all the adventures. When I said you have me, I meant it. Forever."

"Forever." He kissed her for the millionth time that night, his hands splaying across her lower back as she melted into him. He doubted he would ever tire of feeling her like this.

And then suddenly, he pulled away; a disgusted, almost despaired look adorning his features: "Oh, we'll have to talk about carpets now, won't we?"

Who he was or wasn't or had been no longer held any bearing. He was her Doctor here and now and that would never change.

The Doctor and Rose... Ready to take on the Universe.