This was a collaboration between me and dimensionhoppingrose over on Tumblr.

"He's not you."

Oh, if that wasn't a knife through the Metacrisis' single heart. He tried very hard not to give any outward sign that what Rose had said had cut him so deeply.

"He needs you," the Time Lord said quietly. "That's very me."

A single tear rolled down Rose's cheek as she whipped around to look at the blue-suited Doctor, who was watching her with his heart almost literally on his sleeve, holding his breath as he waited for Rose to pass judgment. "Prove it," she demanded, and he let out his breath in long swoosh of air.

"Prove it?"

"Prove you're him. Go on."

Prove I'm him? the Doctor thought desperately. How was he supposed to do that? Was it like when he'd first regenerated? Did she want to hear a story of an adventure they'd had together. Oh, he could recount so many, it was one of the benefits of a Time Lord memory. But it had also been a curse, recalling every single second he'd shared with Rose after having lost her had been torturous.

Rose was still waiting on an answer, and the faint ache in the back of his skull forced him into action. It was nearly automatic, the way his mind sought hers out. He'd been alone in his mind for three years, after having been so lucky to share in her mind for several glorious months.

He grew frustrated when his mind didn't connect automatically with hers. It was like trying to run through water. Her mind felt faint and foggy and too far away, but he was so determined to feel her beautiful, brilliant presence in his mind, that he surged forward, chasing that lovely pink and gold thread lurking in the shadows of his mind.

He could tell immediately when he was successful. The ache in his mind eased, and he heard a gasp from Rose.

Rose.

Rose could barely believe it. There had been such a terrible pain in her head ever since that horrid day three years and five months ago. It has eased slightly when she'd found her prime universe, but now it was almost completely gone.

Doctor?

A relieved smile spread across his face, and he wanted so desperately to strengthen their link. He wanted to push forward until it would be impossible to tell where her mind ended and his began. He took a step forward, still lost in the depths of her honey-whiskey eyes, when the most devastating sound echoed across the bay.

Rose whipped away, breaking the contact with the Doctor when she turned and saw the TARDIS disappearing with the Doctor and Donna on-board.

Without her.

No!

Rose hurried forward, but of course it was far too late. Still she reached for the TARDIS, as if she could stop it from leaving her behind, and all at once the pain crashed back in, a huge wave washing through her mind as the ache the Metacrisis had eased flared to life once more. That and the soul-crushing pain of being abandoned again was enough to drive Rose to her knees. She collapsed right there in the sand, curling in tight on herself as she cried.

Not again. He can't do this to me again.

The Doctor watched, completely heart-broken, as Rose collapsed. He hesitated for a long moment before walking to her, kneeling down and gathering her in his arms. She didn't protest or throw him off, thankfully…

But when his mind carefully reached out to brush against her he found himself met with the mental equivalent of a steel wall.

She had locked him out.

The Doctor bit back a whimper. To be so completely and forcefully blocked from his bond mate's mind was agonizing. His mind screamed and begged and pleaded to reconnect with hers, but he swallowed thickly and clamped down on his telepathic centers, shoring them up tightly even as the ache in his mind pulsed back to life.

He nuzzled his nose into her hair, pressing his lips to her temples as he whispered softly to her. Rose was still sobbing in his arms, her body shaking as her tears stained his suit. He had never felt so helpless.

"Oh, sweetheart."

The Doctor looked up and saw that Jackie was now kneeling on Rose's other side, reaching for her daughter.

As soon as Rose felt her mother's touch against her shoulder, she instantly moved away from the Doctor and into Jackie's waiting arms.

The Doctor tried to stifle his hurt and jealousy as he watched Rose show a clear preference, and it wasn't for him.

Jackie tried not to feel guilty as her daughter sought solace in her arms, but it was hard when she saw the pure agony that flashed across the Doctor's face. She didn't understand a bit of what was going on here but she knew one thing – the Doctor loved Rose. No matter what kind of body he had. He'd proven that more than once.

And being rejected must have killed him.

"Ssshhh sweetheart," Jackie murmured, smoothing Rose's hair back as the tears slowed and the sobs quieted. "It's okay. We'll figure this out." She hated seeing her daughter so destroyed – for a brief, wild moment she wished she could bring back that other Doctor and drown him in the bloody ocean (it was fine, he'd just regenerate).

"Let's go home, yeah?"

oOoOo

Several hours and a zeppelin ride later, the Doctor, Rose, and Jackie finally arrived at the Tyler estate. The Doctor noted with a bit of curiosity that it wasn't the same house he and Rose had visited oh-so many years ago. It was a little smaller, but still very elegant, and it had that homey feel to it that Pete's first mansion had been missing.

The Doctor wandered around idly, picking up books and toys and photographs as Jackie was reunited with her husband and son. Pete cast the Doctor a curious glance, which he pretended to ignore, before Pete wrapped Rose into a hug and murmured something into her ear. She looked over at the Doctor, too, but he pretended to be completely engrossed in a child's coloring book, flipping through the various scribbles.

Just when the tension got a bit too awkward, Rose mumbled, "I'm off to bed," leaving him standing helplessly in the middle of the Tylers' sitting room.

"Don't worry, love," Jackie said soothingly, walking up to him. "Just give her a bit of time. She'll come 'round."

They got the Doctor set up in the guest room and everyone went to bed early that night. Or almost everyone, anyways. Jackie woke up with a start around three, the image of those poor people disintegrating in the Dalek's chamber still burned into her memory – and probably always would be. She rolled over to look at Pete, still snoring away, and kissed his cheek before carefully crawling out of bed. She went to Tony's room first, smiling when she saw him curled up in his crib clutching a teddy bear and sucking his thumb. Then to Rose, who was further down the hall, and her heart broke when she saw her daughter twisting in bed, clearly not resting as easily as the rest of the Tylers.

She was just on her way back to bed when she caught sight of the light down in the kitchen. She frowned, running through the list of people in the house – Rose (sleeping), Tony (sleeping), Pete (sleeping)…

Jackie made her way downstairs, sighing when she saw the Doctor sitting at the kitchen table, glaring into a mug. "Tea doesn't help much if you don't drink it,"she pointed out quietly. The Doctor didn't spare her a second glance. "C'mon idiot. Either drink up or talk."

She wasn't really expecting him to say anything, and was a bit surprised when he actually spoke. "I don't know what I'm going to do. He left us here. I'm sure he thought Rose would accept me but what if she doesn't? What if she throws me out?" He didn't know what he would with himself if Rose didn't want him.

Jackie sighed, reaching out to rest her hand gently on the Doctor's. "She just needs time. This is a lot for her."

The Doctor nodded mutely, his shoulders heaving with the beginnings of a sigh.

But he's not you.

How would she ever come to accept him when she didn't even believe him to be the real Doctor?

Before he could fully exhale, a shrill wail pierced the silence of the mansion.

Rose!

The Doctor was up and out of his chair before Jackie had even moved, sprinting down the corridor, his heart hammering too quickly in his chest for comfort. What had happened to her? Was she hurt? Had someone broken in? He put on an extra burst of speed as the sight of her bedroom door loomed nearer.

He burst into the room, ready to fend off whoever was hurting Rose, but stopped short when he saw that her room was attacker-free.

Rose was tossing and turning, causing her sheets to tangle around her legs, and a thin film of sweat shone in the pale moonlight filtering through the window. There was a deep furrow in her brow, and her mouth kept opening and closing, little whimpers bursting out as she panted for breath.

"Rose," he called, rushing over to the bed.

He knelt down and rested his hand on her cheek. She moaned at the touch.

"Doctor," she whimpered, curling in on herself more tightly. "Doctor, please. Please come back. Doctor."

"Ssshhh, I'm right here Rose," he whispered, his heart cracking open. "I'm right here. I'm not leaving you."

Rose was still thrashing around madly, moaning for him. The Doctor's heart broke further and further the longer he watched her distress.

It was almost on autopilot that he reached out, pressing his fingers to her temples – he was just so desperate to ease her pain and this was the only way he knew how. So he put his fingers to her temples, and he carefully brushed against her mind…

And was instantly consumed.

FearlonelinessdontleavedontleavedontleaveDoctordontgopleaseImsoalone…

The Doctor gasped, feeling as if he'd been plunged into ice cold water as Rose's screaming mind instantly overwhelmed him. He tried desperately to find an anchor in his own mind, to hold on, to not lose himself in Rose, but there was nothing. It was just him, and Rose. And at this rate they were bothgoing to be lost to her panic.

So he took a deep breath, and he tried to center himself, tried to insert some dominance in this tangled mess. Rose, he tried to call over the din, tried to get her attention. Rose, it's me. I'm here. You're not alone. I am here. You're not alone. I won't leave you.

Rose stilled slowly under his touch, still whimpering but no longer thrashing around. The Doctor watched her eyes fluttered open, and confusion flashed through her mind.

D-Doctor…? But you're gone, you left…

Never, he said fiercely. I will never leave you, Rose. I swear on my life. I am here. You are not alone.

He took a few moments to send her as many comforting, loving thoughts as possible before he slowly started to pull away…

And froze when Rose's mind practically threw itself at his, holding on tight. Don't leave! She almost sounded hysterical. When she spoke again her voice was softer, timid. Don't leave me. Please.

And his heart broke even further. Never, Rose, he promised quietly, brushing her hair back.

He sat down beside her on the mattress, and had to swallow the immense pleasure he felt when Rose instantly cuddled into his side. Her mind was quiet and peaceful, and he felt her mind grow thick and fuzzy as she tried to stifle a yawn.

"Sleep," he whispered gently, continuing to run his fingers through her hair, knowing how much she had liked it before.

Rose grunted something in reply, and the Doctor felt a stab of stubbornness and refusal pulse across the bond. He stifled a smile. Some things never changed. But she really needed to sleep; she'd had a long couple of days (hell, a long couple of years) and she deserved a restful night's sleep.

"Will you stay?" she asked hesitantly, staring resolutely at the wall. She couldn't bear it if he said no.

"Always," he said, feeling utterly relieved that Rose didn't want him to go. He'd been worried that she would be angry when she realized he'd used telepathy with her without her permission.

The Doctor lay down beside her, maneuvering them into a more comfortable position. Rose tucked her head in the curve of his shoulder and rested her palm against his chest. He sucked in a sharp breath, wondering if Rose was thinking about the other Doctor, the Time Lord Doctor, the real Doctor.

He's not you.

The Doctor quickly banished that little voice, smothering it quickly before Rose could catch on. The pulse of worry he felt from her made him nervous that he hadn't tucked that fear away quickly enough. But as she again fought against her growing lethargy, the Doctor finally realized she was fearful of going to sleep.

"I'm not leaving, Rose," he promised fervently, bringing his hand up to cover hers where it rested on his chest. He exhaled softly and he felt some of the tension leave her shoulders and she twined her fingers with his.

She was still far from relaxed enough to sleep, and so he hummed a lullaby, and ancient tune that he'd always been fond of, and he tried to project as much love and devotion to her as he could, hoping the reassurance would help her get the sleep she so desperately needed.

It took a long time – maybe half an hour, the Doctor couldn't tell. He hated not being able to measure time anymore – before Rose finally relaxed enough to slip off to sleep, comforted by the Doctor's humming and the tight grip of his arms around her. And eventually the Doctor fell asleep as well, comforted by her small body pressed against him.

Waking up the next morning was disorienting. Rose was confused to find herself encased in a tight, familiar pair of arms, though it only took her a moment to connect with reality. She was just about to fall asleep when…

Panic.

The single, foreign emotion jolted through her mind and she shot up again, blinking as she looked back at the Doctor. He was clearly only half awake, and not in a good way.

Waking up in a strange place was confusing enough for the Doctor (though really at this point he should have been used to it considering how many times he'd woken up in jail). But waking up with someone in his arms, in an unfamiliar bed, with only one heart and no TARDIS in his head was the most frightening thing imaginable.

Before he could fall too far down the well of panic, though, another mind brushed against his – a softer mind, a familiar mind. Rose. But how? How was she here? She was in the other universe, she was…

Oh.

The events of the day before came back to him in a rush and he relaxed a bit, arms tightening around Rose, trying to assure himself that she was real. That this was real.

Even if it might not be real for much longer.

Rose sighed gratefully as she, too, realized that the past twelve hours had not been a dream. She'd found the Doctor, and the Doctor, a human Doctor, was here with her and her family, his familiar telepathic presence simmering softly at the edges of her consciousness. Her mind ached in relief. She had been so alone for the past three years. Feeling him in her mind was the best balm for the raw pieces of her psyche, and though she deeply wished she could connect with him deeper, like they were before that awful day at Canary Wharf, she was pleased to even have this remote contact.

Rose stiffened when she felt his telepathic presence ease back from hers slightly. Her mind screamed at him not to leave, and to clutch him closer to her, but she remembered how she'd acted last night, so scared and needy. He didn't want that. Why would he? He was a Time Lord, and had seen the rise and fall of many civilizations. He'd seen so many more planets and people, more than she could ever hope to comprehend, or compete with. Now he was here, on Earth, with no TARDIS, no way to explore the universe. He must hate it here. He must hate her.

Rose swallowed down the lump in her throat and let him pull away, glad to have this basic connection, because it was better than the aching nothingness she'd dealt with for years. She wasn't sure how much longer the Doctor would want to be here, but she determined to take advantage of the time that they had together, and she quietly reveled in the muted pulses of comfort he was projecting.

oOoOo

Over the next week they settled into a familiar, if not somewhat uncomfortable pattern. They shared a bed every night and they were always on the surface of one another's minds, neither daring to go any deeper.

Which actually worked out quite well for the Doctor, as much as he desperately wanted to have a full connection with Rose again. But he'd started getting headaches – not horrible headaches, nothing he couldn't handle. He knew it was just withdrawal from no longer having the TARDIS and having no other deep bonds. But just having Rose on the surface of his mind helped ease what could've been muchworse pain, and if it got too bad he could gently lock her out until it passed. He was sure she didn't even notice.

(She did notice. It killed her every time. What was he thinking when she couldn't hear? Was he resenting her? Planning his escape? It drove her nearly mad.)

They stayed with Rose's parents – she'd never gotten her own place. She'd never planned on staying here. Pete was helping her look but that would take time. Rose's family provided them both with an excellent distraction, however. Tony was enthralled by the Doctor; the man had been the subject of many a bedtime story. For Tony, it was basically like meeting his hero. He plopped himself in the Doctor's lap at the beginning of every day and refused to be moved until bedtime. If he did have to move, it was with a lot of crying and fussing.

Finally one day Pete insisted that Rose had to come to Torchwood and write up a final report about the dimension cannon. Rose relented with a lot of grumbling, promising the Doctor she would be back in a few hours.

With a full bond, Rose could be halfway across the world and the Doctor would still feel her. It would be muted, but she would be there – distance wouldn't be an issue. The bond they currently had, however, wasn't strong enough to withstand more than maybe a few miles of space, and the moment she was out of range it clicked out of place, leaving the Doctor with a steady throb in the back of his head. He did his best to just breathe through it, not wanting to look like he was in pain and have Jackie force aspirin on him. He had no idea how much of his body was still Time Lord, and how he would react to painkillers. Best not to find out the hard way.

Still, within an hour of Rose's leaving, death by aspirin looked pretty appealing compared to the pain the Doctor was in. Jackie was bustling Tony around getting him ready to go out shopping – she'd gotten someone to measure the Doctor and she was going to find him clothes. She hadn't even bothered asking if he wanted to go, assuming (quite correctly) that he wouldn't be interested.

She did tell him to lay down before she left, however – he looked like hell.

He took her advice, though he only managed to get as far as the couch before collapsing. With every passing minute the pain got worse and worse, until it felt someone was stabbing a knife into the back of his head, and it took everything he had in him not to cry.

He didn't know how long he lay there. Minutes or hours, it didn't matter; the throbbing in his head worsened with every beat of his heart. He whimpered and clutched at his hair, kneading the heels of his hands roughly into his eyes, trading one pain for another.

This was how Rose found him two and a half hours after having left him that morning. Pete had apologized for calling her in, knowing that she and the Doctor were still adjusting to their new lives here, but he promised her as soon as her report was finished, she could take all the time she needed.

As she slipped her key into the lock, she wondered idly if she even should take time off. It had been eight days since they'd been left here together, and over those eight days, she felt as though she were playing a frustrating game of tug-of-war. At night, he was all too pleased to curl up next to her and share his mind with hers. But as soon as morning dawned, he withdrew, leaving her confused and anxious that he was just biding his time until he could leave.

She sighed. Maybe she should talk with him. They hadn't done much of that, and she hoped she could get a better read on his emotional standpoint of their new relationship. If she could even call it that.

"Mum, I'm back," she called out as soon as she swung open the door. The foyer was dark and empty. "Doctor?"

Rose had to swallow her panic as she walked further into the darkened house. The Doctor wouldn't have left without saying goodbye, would he? He promised…

So did the other Doctor, she thought bitterly.

Just as tears began prickling her eyes, she heard a muffled whimper coming from the living room. Rose looked into the dark room and gasped when she saw the familiar form of the Doctor lying on the family sofa. He was curled in on himself, making himself smaller than Rose thought possible, and his hands were covering his face.

"Doctor!"

She ran to the sofa, terrified that something was seriously wrong with him.

At her shout, the Doctor muffled a whimper into his forearms as his fingers clenched and unclenched in his hair. Rose dropped to her knees, covering his hand with hers. He was so clearly in pain, and her heart lurched in fear and sympathy.

"Doctor?" she whispered, pressing her palm to his clammy cheek. "Doctor, what's wrong?"

She stroked the side of his face, trying to soothe him. Her fingertips brushed lightly along his temples and he moaned.

Rose gasped as she was bombarded with the Doctor's thoughts and emotions. She could seeeverything. He was projecting so much fear and pain, but beneath that, so much love. For her. She saw how desperate he was for her to love and accept him, and how much he yearned for a full telepathic bond with her, to ease the pain in his mind – but more importantly to have that connection with her once more.

The Doctor cursed himself as he lost control and completely flooded Rose's mind with his pathetic desires. He breathed in deeply and steeled himself as he slowly retreated from her mind, embarrassed by his outburst and scared that now that she knew how much he wanted her, she would just stay out of pity.

The ache in the back of his mind flared back to life as he retreated from her warm, comforting mind, but he pushed it back, knowing that Rose didn't want him like that.

"Hold on," Rose said sharply. "What makes you think I don't want you?"

The Doctor didn't answer, instead he just dragged himself up into a sitting position, swaying slightly. He had every intention of dragging himself to bed or…somewhere. Anywhere but here, with Rose looking at him like that.

But Rose wasn't going to let that happen. They did need to talk, she realized that now. There was clearly something to talk about. So as he moved she grabbed his hand, holding on tight and refusing to let go.

"Talk to me," she demanded. When he didn't answer she moved to sit on the couch next to him, pushing to sit right against him and refusing to move. "Doctor," she prompted quietly. He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a moment to let her presence soothe his frazzled mind.

"Time Lords are telepathic," he started quietly.

"Yeah, oddly enough I gathered that," Rose told him dryly, and even though he wasn't looking at her he could still see the small smile pulling at her lips.

"Right from the start we could always feel one another, even just a vague presence. It was like never really being alone." That sounded unnerving, Rose thought. "Even when they were all…gone, I at least still had the TARDIS – and then you. Being alone – completely alone in my head – it's like a black hole, like my mind is just drowning in the emptiness. Having you even just on the surface has helped, and when you left today…"

A few things started clicking into place for Rose as he spoke. "I helped, but…it still hurt, didn't it?" He nodded weakly. "Oh Doctor…"

"I can handle it," he said quickly, sensing her pity and hating it. "It caught me off guard a bit today but I can learn to deal with it, I can…"

His voice drifted off as Rose pushed closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. And she reached out gently with her mind, just like he'd taught her to, mentally wrapping around him like a blanket and holding on tight. She felt him relax both physically and mentally as the pain slowly ebbed away…

And then his mind started digging deeper.

"Bollocks," he mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to rein himself in.

His breath caught in his throat when he felt her mind tentatively keep him where he was, and he watched her face tense, as though she were focusing very intently on a difficult problem. The Doctor was confused for just a moment, as he continued to try and keep their telepathic connection to just surface emotions.

But then he gasped as his mind was suddenly flooded with Rose. Thankfully, he was still sitting, or else he knew his legs would've given out from the sheer beauty of her mind, and the absolute pleasure at having a nearly-complete telepathic bond again.

Does this feel like I don't want you? she asked, letting him feel her thoughts and emotions, unchecked, uncensored.

The Doctor felt tears prickle his eyes as he felt her immense and untainted love. For him. Not the Time Lord him, not memories of him, but him, everything he was, here and now. She showed him how grateful she was that he had stayed, and how good it felt to not be alone in her mind anymore.

A twinge of guilt crossed her thoughts at that moment as she murmured, I'm so sorry, I didn't even think…

He quickly soothed her, and continued to bask in her mental presence.

But it didn't stop at with just love and acceptance. He stiffened slightly as she slowly revealed to him how scared she was, and he was taken by surprise when he realized she was scared of him, scared that he didn't want her, and was trying to leave her behind.

Oh Rose… He murmured, feeling as if his single heart had jumped into his throat. Why would you think…

Because here I'm just Rose Tyler, she whispered back. I'm not special or amazing or anything. We're not traveling we're not seeing the stars or going to different time periods… we're just here. I'm not special here.

She was quite surprised when he pulled back to down at her, disbelief shining in his eyes. "You're joking, right?" He demanded. She looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "Blimey, Rose…" He pulled her into a tight hug, which she returned almost desperately. God he loved her. His silly pink-and-yellow little human. He loved her so much. Knowing words wouldn't do any good he decided instead to just let her see his memories – all his favorite moments with her. All the times he had been almost overwhelmed by his love for her. None of them were in the midst of adventures, though. They were in the aftermath, the quiet moments. Hugging each other on the street in London 2012, piloting the TARDIS to try and go to a concert, laying in bed together while he watched her sleep…

It wasn't the TARDIS or the adventures that made you special, Rose.

Her disbelief pulsed across the bond, along with a little flicker of hope. The Doctor snagged onto that last piece, and he blew it open. He let her see how devastated he was when he lost her; he showed her how desperately he worked to find a way across, and his anger and grief when he would only send through a projection; he let her feel how overjoyed he was when he saw her running towards him on that barren street, his subsequent confusion when he awoke alone in the TARDIS, and his abject terror when he realized what had happened, and that there was a very real possibility she wouldn't accept him like this.

I wasn't lying on that beach, he murmured, holding her more tightly to his chest as tears began leaking down her cheeks.

He replayed his memories for her, showing her how much he wanted this life with her, and showing her how terrified he was that she wouldn't want him, and would leave him on the beach. He's not you. He reluctantly showed her how hurt he was when she uttered those three words, and how they had gnawed at him for the past few days. He was so scared that she didn't actually want him, but felt obligated to stay.

That's why I kept our connection only surface-level, he explained. I couldn't bear to be alone, but I also couldn't bear to force a deeper connection if you didn't want it.

Rose let out a shuddering breath, in tears and completely overwhelmed by everything. For a week she had been so convinced he was pushing her away, convinced he didn't want her, convinced he didn't want a life with her.

And now here he was showing her how much of that was her fault – not his intention, of course, but that was what it was in the end. It was her fault. This entire week had been her fault.

Ssshhh, stop, the Doctor coaxed gently, a slightly scolding edge on his tone. Nothing is your fault.

If I hadn't said–

You were scared and you were hurt that he was leaving you. I understand now. And that was the truth. Seeing into her mind, reliving everything that had been going through her head at that moment, seeing that she didn't really believe it now…he did understand.

And he was so relieved.

Rose burrowed into his arms as she cried, clinging to him, and the Doctor held her for all he was worth, letting her feel how much he loved her, how grateful he was to be here with her now.

How much he wanted to be with her.

She, in turn, let him feel her love, and her desire to be with him. He hummed happily as their tenuous bond strengthened and deepened, and neither of them tried to pull away this time. He felt his own relief echoed in her mind as every edge of her mind was filled with him, and vice versa.

Can I…?

Rose was confused for just a moment, until she felt a slight shift in their bond. While their connection was deeper than it had been all week, Rose felt that it could still be deeper and stronger and more permanent, and she could also see how close he was to making that a reality. He was holding himself back, waiting for permission, even though want and desire exuded from every pore.

God, yes, she breathed, focusing inward on that spark of his mental footprint. She drew it closer and closer to her, diving deeper and deeper and falling even more in love with him than she ever thought possible as her mind was awash with him.

The Doctor groaned in relief as he felt the acceptance and consent from Rose, and he finally, finally, hooked his mind around hers, weaving their presences together tightly and irrevocably. They gasped at the sensation, feeling the bond that had been so violently torn apart three years ago suddenly snap back into place.

I love you, both the Doctor and Rose said once they were able to think again.

The Doctor angled his body towards Rose, and cradled her jaw in his hands. Tears were falling down her face. He caught them with his thumbs and brushed them away, smiling softly at his bond mate. He tilted her head up as he leaned down, and he pressed his lips gently to hers. She sighed into his mouth as her hand came up to cup the nape of his neck.

Her lips felt so good and warm and soft against him, and it took every ounce of self-control he had not to yank her closer and thoroughly snog her against the couch of the Tyler's sitting room.

I wouldn't mind, she said teasingly, scraping her fingernails lightly across his scalp.

He gasped and pulled away. He pressed his forehead to hers as he fought to control his breathing as well as tamp down the intense feelings of lust and desire, though it was difficult when Rose was projecting those same emotions.

Just…give me a mo'.

Neither of them were ready to initiate a physical relationship, and they both knew that, so Rose pressed her lips lightly to his once more before she curled up into his side. She felt his apology before he could even open his mouth

Don't. We've got the rest of our lives ahead of us. I'm okay with waiting.

The Doctor's heart skittered in his chest as the full realization of what she said dawned on him. He could really have forever with her.

Forever, my Doctor, she confirmed, wrapping her arms around his waist and giving a little squeeze.

He pressed his lips to the top of her head and sighed contentedly. Forever had never looked so beautiful.