They didn't know how they ended up like this. Sometimes, that didn't matter. What mattered was that all the children on this ship had been evacuated and were heading back to their parents on whatever planet they'd been kidnapped from, and that the two heroes of the day were on their way back to the TARDIS, in the storage area at the back of the burning ship. That was when all hell broke loose.
It was a hospital facility - this ship. The children on board had been drugged and strapped to gurneys for the entirety of the journey, en route to a research planet that had planned to use them for stem cell studies to regenerate lost limbs and organs - even if it meant killing the kids for their purpose. Of course, Rose and the Doctor couldn't just let that happen, so they had stepped in.
Their previous trip had left the Doctor a little bit on edge, though. He'd suggested that Rose stay in the TARDIS, with the words of the beast echoing in his head. The valiant child, who will die in battle so very soon. But Rose was Rose, and she hadn't caught onto the Doctor uneasiness, waving him off and telling him he was an idiot if he thought she was staying behind while he saved the world again.
And here they were - running, hand in hand, through the shaking, flaming prison ship back toward the police box - grinning, at first.
"Come on!" the Doctor yelled, a bit of panic slipping into his voice, tugging on Rose's hand in his as he pulled her along, just to be sure that she was still behind him. Smoke was billowing into the room, and he could hear her coughing into her palm. The ship was going to go up in flames any second now. He ducked under a fallen metal pillar, making for the airlock door at the back of the room and hoping against all hope that its circuits were still intact.
At this moment, an explosion, probably on the floor below them, shook the entire ship, tearing the ground out from under their feet. Rose saw the four-foot tall, metal canister come flying at the Doctor's torso, and in a flash moment of selfless brilliance, released his hand and roughly threw him forward, out of its path. The Doctor went skidding on the debris ahead of him, and the heavy canister caught Rose's elbow and pulled her down against the floor, shouting.
"Rose, come on! This thing's going to blow!" the Doctor cried over the noise, climbing to his feet and spinning back to see where Rose had disappeared to. He was afraid now - desperate. They had long overstayed his estimated detonation time. His eyes finally found her, perilously close to the licking flames, trapped under a heavy oxygen canister. "Rose!" he shouted, darting to her side and falling to his knees.
Rose's back was pressed to the cold floor, the canister having snapped her elbow and crushed her wrist, now resting on her hand - and she was sure it was also mangled by its weight. She tried to pull her arm free, despite the pain that shot through her arm, but she was stuck. Her face was wet with tears, but she was clear-headed enough to grab hold of the Doctor's upper arm as he came close. "I'm stuck," she gasped, "I can't get out from under it!"
The Doctor's eyes flicked up to the fire licking at the debris around Rose's sprawled body. "The canister's going to explode," he looked back down to Rose, and met her eyes, both of them panicking. He leapt to his feet, ducked down and wrapped his arms around the canister, heaving at it. He groaned, clenching his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut at the weight, but it didn't move. "Come on!" he gritted out, heaving again.
He felt Rose's free hand - her left - grab his ankle, and he opened his eyes to look down at her, terror written on his face as his battle with the canister ceased.
"Go," Rose suddenly told him, forcing her voice to carry over the noise in the room. "You have to go!" she shouted, setting her features despite the tears rolling down her cheeks.
The Doctor's eyes widened, and then he screamed at her, "No! I'm not leaving you!", and then pulled at the canister again, with no result. He heard Rose whimpering in pain as the canister rolled on her crushed wrist, and guilt shot through him like an icy bolt, but he tried again, and again. He couldn't leave her. He wasn't leaving her here.
The floor shook again, and the Doctor stood straight, sweating, panicking, staring at the canister. He had the sonic screwdriver, but what would that do? He could try to release the oxygen inside, but that would just set the whole room alight, and it wouldn't even help. He froze, not knowing what to do. He looked back to Rose, who was staring back at him, terrified.
He couldn't move the canister. She was stuck.
The Doctor fell to his knees beside her again, and leant to have a look at her wrist caught under the metal. His fingers touched the skin, and she hissed in agony, her other hand catching his shoulder to grip on. The Doctor swallowed, "It's … it's crushed," he glanced back to her face. "Can you pull it-,"
Rose was already shaking her head, and she gripped his shoulder tighter. "Go - you have to go. You'll die too if you stay here," she told him firmly, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat.
The Doctor's eyes searched hers, as his blood ran cold despite the burning heat of the fires around them. He brought his brows down. "I can't leave you, Rose!" he shouted thickly, shaking his own head in disbelief. "I can't …" he screwed up his face and then forced out, "I can't lose you!", with saltwater blossoming in his own eyes.
Rose laughed weakly, and moved her free hand to his cheek, thumb brushing away the tear that had appeared there. "You have to go," she insisted, "The universe needs you. You won't be able to regenerate if you die in the explosion. I'm dead no matter what," she tilted her head back and drew a shaky breath.
The Doctor searched desperately for words, for thoughts, for something else - some way to get her free - but he couldn't find anything. There was nothing he was going to do. She was going to die here. His Rose Tyler was going to die. "No," he whispered quietly, words tumbling over a lump in his own throat, "I'm not leaving."
Rose's face contorted in pain and desperation. "You idiot," she said quietly, shutting her own eyes, another pair of tears falling, "I love you," she announced softly, before opening her eyes and meeting his. He was watching her, afraid - so very afraid. He had to go on. He had to live. He hadn't answered her, but this was goodbye, wasn't it?
She stroked his cheek with her thumb, pulled him down and kissed his lips. It was quick and chaste, and Rose thought she felt him press his lips back against hers, but she could have imagined it. It didn't matter. He had to go now. He had to leave, and he had to live. When she let him go and he pulled back to look into her eyes, he looked torn.
"Now go," she choked out, forcing a smile. "Go and live. Do that," she let nostalgia wash over her for a moment, and then added, "For me."
The Doctor threw himself to his feet, and seemed unable to believe he had done so. Rose nodded, urging him on, and he turned away. He ran.
Rose let her head fall to the floor behind it, feeling heat licking at her clothes and her skin, burning her already, even if she was on fire yet. So this was how she died; trapped under an explosive canister in a burning room, having saved the world one more time today - having made sure that the Doctor went on, that he lived. It wasn't a bad way to die. Tears rolled into her hairline as she shut her eyes, waiting.
This was better than dying in her bed, an old lady, having done nothing with her life than gone to work, eaten chips and watched television. Still. She was scared. Rose guessed she was supposed to be scared; scared of the pain of the fire ripping into her skin, and what would happen when the canister finally exploded. It would probably kill her quickly. She hoped.
"I'm sorry about this, Rose," a voice suddenly shouted over her, and Rose jumped in terror and panic, opening her eyes to see the Doctor standing over her, teeth bared, with a battle-hardened expression on his face and a fire axe held high over his head.
She didn't have time to shout at him before the axe came down toward her arm where it was trapped beneath the canister.
Rose screamed, the sound ripping her throat into shreds, as the sensations in her hand suddenly ceased to be. Her hand. Oh, god, he had cut off her hand. Rose's elbow and forearm were still completely crushed - she was afraid the bone would now slide right out of the stump that her wrist had become. Pain exploded from her wrist, up her arm, as blood gushed from it. On instinct, she pulled her severed wrist into her lap and cradled it with her other hand.
She heard the axe clattering on the floor, and then the Doctor swung down to scoop her into his arms, before turning and running with her, through the airlock door and into a corridor.
"My hand," Rose sputtered, eyes pointed up at his face as he carried her. "You cut off my hand," she gasped, shock overwhelming her mind.
"Funny way to say 'I love you too', I know," the Doctor said hoarsely, breathing hard. He couldn't even muster a smile. The ship lurched under them, and he stumbled slightly, but he quickly regained his pace, turning the corner with his feet sliding against the floor, and breathing out in relief as he saw the TARDIS up ahead, doors already open. That was what he'd run ahead for.
One, two, three long strides later, they were in the TARDIS. Safe.
The Doctor kicked the doors shut behind them, and made straight for the med bay, with Rose in his arms. She had gone quiet - perhaps unconscious. He looked down and saw the copious amount of blood spilled on her clothes from the improvised amputation. She was losing a lot of blood - he needed to stop the bleeding, and fast. He wished he'd had time to tie a tourniquet before lopping off her hand. She was never going to forgive him for this.
Rose suddenly croaked out, "You came back for me."
The Doctor smiled grimly. "Always."
Okay. Maybe she would.