Author's notes: After seeing people raise the question of "When Ten regenerated, did 10.5 notice/sense/feel it?" in a few different places on the internet, I wanted to explore what my answer might be and what effects or consequences Ten's regeneration might have for 10.5 and Rose.

Disclaimer: This story takes place within the Doctor Who universe. This story is a way of re-interpreting concepts and ideas already present in Doctor Who. All characters within belong to the BBC. This story is for fun and for sharing, but not for profit.

Stranded on the Shore

Pete's mansion felt large to Rose Tyler at any time, but when it was empty of staff and family, stray sounds echoed eerily. This morning, only John (whom she hadn't called 'Doctor' for a year now) was there somewhere, but he too was quiet. Rose was alone, picking up the books that he constantly left lying around and feeling vaguely unsettled. So, when she heard an uncoordinated, heavy thump, she froze. When she heard an anguished moan of pain, she dropped the books and sprang into a run.

She found him curled up, knees almost to chin, on the floor in the kitchen, a half-eaten banana still in one hand, the other clutching at his hair.

'John,' she whispered and dropped to her knees beside him. 'John, what's wrong?'

No answer came. She leaned over him. His eyes were tightly closed. 'Can you hear me?'

Still no answer came. Trembling, she hovered her hand in front of his nose and mouth. He was breathing. Fumbling at his throat, she found his heartbeat. It seemed a bit fast, but it was steady.

'Right,' she said. 'You're breathing and you have a pulse.' Tossing the banana aside, she took his free hand and clasped it between her own. 'No one's here and you've told me never to let doctors near you. What do I do?'

'Nothing.' His voice was clear but low.

His fingers squeezed hers slightly. As they did so, John uncurled himself and opened his eyes. He sat up slowly.

'Don't ever do that again, you hear me?' Rose said.

'Sorry,' said John mildly. 'I hadn't planned it, you know.' He looked around. 'Sitting on the floor. Hmm. Not keen. Ally-oop! Up we go.'

But as soon as he began to rise, he clutched at Rose's arms and fell to the floor once more. Rose only just managed not to fall on him. Instead, she landed rather painfully on the floor on her left hip.

'Don't get up,' she said sharply. 'You're going to hurt yourself. And me,' she added.

John shook his head as if to clear it. 'Dizzy,' he said with a note of wonder. 'I never get dizzy.'

'Yeah, well, you're human now. Remember?'

'Part human,' he corrected her absently. He pushed himself up and sat, legs askew. His face was flushed and his hair wildly tousled.

'Sit against the cupboard,' said Rose. 'It's right behind you.'

'Yes, mum,' he said, but he obediently inched himself backwards until he could lean against the door.

'What happened?' she asked.

John frowned. 'I don't know. One minute, I'm fine, not a care in the world, and then-here I am on the floor. Nothing is wrong with me.'

'Of course something's wrong with you, silly,' she said, exasperated. 'You scared me to-'

'Wait,' he said. He clutched at her arm.

'-death.'

'Wait,' he said again urgently. 'Listen.'

'What do you mean-'

John held his hand over her mouth. 'Listen,' he hissed, and then he promptly covered his ears.

Rose opened her mouth and then closed it, settling for watching him closely.

Suddenly he paled and lowered his hands. His gaze seemed far away.

'What's wrong,' she asked with a feeling of dread.

'It's not me,' he said slowly. 'It's him.'

Rose swallowed. 'You mean... the Doctor?'

John nodded jerkily. 'It's him. Something's happened-something strong enough for me to feel it.'

'How could you possibly?' she protested. 'He's in another universe. How could you know?'

'I know,' he said.

'Is he all right?' she whispered.

He looked at her somberly. 'No.'

'Is... is he still alive?'

'He's alive,' he said. 'But...' He sighed then, so deeply he seemed to slump as if in defeat. 'Oh, Rose, there's no way he can avoid it.'

'He has to regenerate,' she said quavering. 'Doesn't he?'

He took her hands in his. 'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I'm so sorry.'

Rose sat next to him, tears on her cheeks. She angrily scrubbed them away with her sleeve as he wrapped his arms around her and drew her close. He buried his face in her hair. 'I'm sorry,' he whispered.

-o-O-o-

Once he could stand, it seemed to Rose as if all his energy came rushing back. He almost vibrated with it.

'I need to get to Bad Wolf Bay,' he said, pacing back and forth.

'But why,' she asked. She reached out for his hand, but he evaded her almost absentmindedly.

'If only I had the Tardis,' he muttered. 'But, no, no, not in this universe. Coral? Just a lump. What on Earth-on any of them-can I do with a lump?'

'Doctor!'

At the sound of that old name, he seemed to come back to the present, and Rose covered her mouth with her hand. They looked at each other for just an instant, and then he shook his head.

'Sorry, love. Not any more. But still... If the Tardis can't come to me, then I must go to the Tardis... or the last place we saw her.'

'Why?' Rose repeated. 'Isn't that crack closed forever? I thought he said it would never open again.'

He gave a short, quick laugh. 'Maybe. Maybe. I've been known to be wrong before, you know. Or he has, rather. Something is still connecting us, and since I don't have the Tardis,' and here his voice rose, 'there is no way of me knowing what it might be. So Bad Wolf Bay it is.' He stopped pacing and levelled his gaze at Rose. The intensity of his stare felt almost like a blow. 'How do I get there. The fastest way. Airplanes? Hovercraft? Submarine?' He looked past her then, as he mused. 'Airplanes have the best speed, I suppose, but then airports are so limiting. Submarines can go where they choose, but it might be a bit tricky getting one. Hovercraft... would I get seasick now I'm human? I haven't been on a hovercraft as a human. Dicey at the best of times, and right now is not the best of times.'

Rose almost smiled. 'You don't need to go by hovercraft. My dad has a private jet. I think he'll let us take that.'

'Jet! Brilliant! Right. When can we leave? Immediately, yes?'

'Hold on,' Rose said hastily. 'We still have to ask, get it arranged. They would have to file a flight plan, or something like that... I don't know. But you can't just... go.'

He slammed his hands down on the counter, and Rose jumped. 'Why not?' he snapped. 'Go ask. Go arrange. Go file flight plans!'

Rose held up her hands as if she were surrendering. 'All right, all right. You don't need to bite my head off.'

He stopped then, and stared at her, eyes wide. 'I'm sorry,' he whispered. 'You're right. You're absolutely right. But Rose, my dear Rose, I absolutely must go, as soon as... humanly possible. I'm sorry. I can't explain it, but I must go.'

She took his hands in her own, and he didn't pull away. 'Then you're going, and I'm coming with you.'

He shook his head. 'I don't think that's wise.'

'It doesn't matter if it's wise or not. I'm coming, and that's that. If you regenerate when he does, I want to be there. I'm not going to wait here for a stranger to come home.'

'Yes,' he said. 'I can see that.' His forehead furrowed. 'That wouldn't be good, would it. Well... can't wait around.' He grabbed Rose's hand and charged out of the kitchen, dragging her behind him. 'Allons-y!'

-o-O-o-

As it turned out, they could 'just go'. Pete grasped the urgency of the situation and arranged the flight to Norway with a speed and efficacy that almost satisfied John, although nothing could be quick enough to quieten him and stop his frantic pacing. Within four hours, all three were driving down the long stretch of lonely road.

At first, both Rose and John balked at Pete's coming, but as John became increasingly agitated, Rose knew he was in no fit state to drive and she herself would be too distracted.

'Don't worry, you two,' Pete said. 'I won't fuss about whatever it is you need to do. I just want to make sure you both arrive in one piece.'

As the jeep rounded the last ridge, Darlig Ulv Stranden spread flat and forbidding before them. Dark grey clouds blanketed the sky and a thin wind keened.

Rose shivered, but as soon as the jeep came to a stop, John was out and running down to the beach.

Rose got out and immediately the wind beat at her. 'He's going to freeze,' she said. 'He forgets he's not Time Lord anymore.'

'He may have forgotten, but I haven't,' said Pete. 'And I don't want my daughter suffering from exposure. In the back, there are blankets, heat packs, water bottles, survival rations and proper jackets. I had them outfit the jeep for any possibility. Take what you need.'

'Oh, Dad, thank you!' Rose reached in through the window and hugged Pete hard.

He hugged her back and then gently disentangled her arms from around his neck and pushed her back. 'Come on. Go to him. I'll be here if you need me.'

Rose nodded once and only paused to snatch two jackets from the back. Then she was running, pelting over the rocky, sandy ground.

-o-O-o-

She caught up with him on a hard-packed sand bar. Water flowed and receded, and sea foam hissed and broke all around them. Seagulls wheeled overhead, their thin cries mingling with the wind.

John barely noticed as Rose, her own jacket already on, struggled with covering him. Like a child, he passively let her thread his arms through the sleeves and close the snaps down the front. Only after a moment, when he stopped shivering, did he come back to the present and look bemusedly at Rose.

'That's better,' he said and he smiled at her.

Rose wound her fingers amongst his and held tight. 'Can you feel anything?'

'It feels closer,' he replied slowly.

'Is there a crack? Is it still closed?' she asked. She peered in the same direction as he did, wondering what it would look like, if indeed there were anything to be seen.

'No,' he said softly. 'It's closed. But it's thinner here.'

'Worth coming?' She pressed herself against his side.

He looked down at her and nodded slowly. 'Yeah,' he said. He put an arm around her and held her tightly.

They stood in silence-for how long, Rose didn't know. But after what seemed an age, she suddenly realized that he had become rigid, as if a thrill of electricity were running through him.

'He hasn't got long,' John whispered, his voice tight. 'Any time now.'

Rose looked around them with some alarm. 'If you're going to regenerate, should we be standing by all this water? Can't we move up the beach?'

'I don't think I'll regenerate,' he said slowly. 'He said I couldn't, and...' he looked down at his free hand. 'I don't see any signs of it.'

'We could get away from the water, though,' she pleaded.

To Rose's relief, he nodded absently and followed her off the sand bar. She scanned the beach. 'If something is going to happen to you, we need shelter. We could go back to the jeep-'

'No,' he said. 'I want to stay here. It's strongest here.'

'But that's what I mean,' she protested. 'I don't want you hurt, or, or changed... or anything. The gap is closed. You know that now.'

He shook his head. 'I must stay. I'm sorry, Rose. I can't explain it.'

'Well...' She looked around them. 'At least we can find some kind of shelter, can't we? Out of this wind?'

He looked at her fully then and smiled. 'Rose Tyler. Always in control now. You're back in your element, aren't you. Looking for problems, looking for solutions. I always thought-Oh!'

The cry was small, almost drowned out by the wind. He doubled over, clutching his stomach, and staggered.

'No,' cried Rose. She grasped his shoulders to steady him, but he lurched again. His greater height overbalanced her and they both crashed to the ground.

'It's starting,' he gasped. He struggled to his knees, but got no further before he fell again, writhing on the wet sand.

Rose crawled over to him. 'Stay down! You're just going to hurt yourself more.'

'Stay away,' he said. He rolled on to his side as best he could and tried to push her from him. Sand coated the side of his face and tangled his hair.

'No!' She caught his hands and pinned them between her own. 'You're not regenerating. You said it yourself. Nothing can hurt me here. Whatever this is, I'm staying by your side.'

He said nothing but clenched his teeth, his eyes tightly shut. His fingers wound around hers and gripped hard.

'I'm going to get my Dad,' said Rose. 'He's got stuff, blankets-'

'No,' he whispered, and his fingers strengthened their hold. 'Don't go.'

'What do you know,' she said, almost teasingly although her heart was pounding. She pulled one hand free and tried to brush some of the sand from his face. It clung, stubbornly. 'First you wanted me to go. Now you want me to stay.'

A new spasm of pain caught him and his back arched. He gulped, eyes wide. 'This isn't normal. He's... he's fighting it. I can feel it. He's fighting it. Why would he want to-'

And then it happened. Wrenching his hands from her, he flung his arms outwards and, for one moment, he lay spread-eagled on the beach. For one agonizing moment, Rose held her breath. Then-

'Please, please, please, no...' she whispered. 'Please don't let him change.'

But there was no change. There was no blinding, streaming, golden light.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he relaxed. The terrible, frozen star-shape formed by his out-flung limbs melted, and in the end he lay curled up, panting.

Rose dug out her mobile and pressed the first automatic number. She looked down at John as she spoke. 'Dad, I need you. Get the stuff. Hurry!'

-o-O-o-

John was a dead-weight and they had trouble moving him.

'He's too tall,' said Pete.

'Too gangly,' said Rose. 'What are we going to do? We can't drag him over these rocks.'

'I've just the thing,' Pete said, snapping his fingers. 'There's a blanket with that stuff. If we can get that under him, we can carry him, at least away from the water.'

While Pete rummaged among the supplies he had brought, Rose cradled John's head in her lap. He opened his eyes and looked blearily up at her.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered. 'I'm not being much help, am I.'

'No, you're not,' she said with a smile, 'but I'm used to that. I'm the one in control. You said that, remember?'

He managed a grin. 'Yeah. I did. Fancy that.'

'Since I'm in control, I'm taking you back to the jeep.'

'No, don't,' said John. 'I want to stay here.'

'It's cold,' she protested. 'The tide's coming in and you're hurt.'

'Not hurt,' he said, his voice slurring slightly. 'Just... tired.'

'Time Lords may regenerate from time to time,' said Rose sharply, 'but when humans collapse in pain and go into contortions on cold, wet sand... Let me tell you, it's not a good sign. And you're human now. If you haven't, at the very least, thrown your back out, I'm gonna really be surprised.'

'I need to stay here,' he repeated dully.

'Why?'

'I must. I must. How can I explain it?'

'Try hard.' Pete stood over them with the blanket. 'As far as I'm concerned, we're all going back now. You've done... whatever it was that you were trying to do, it looks like. It will be dark in an hour. Come on, Rose, help me.'

Rose carefully inched backwards on her knees and laid John's head back on the ground. She helped her father lay half the blanket out behind John, the rest of it rolled and wedged against him.

'Roll,' said Pete, and he and Rose pushed John onto his left side. 'Blanket,' Pete then muttered, and they inched the blanket under him.

As they pulled John towards them, onto his right side, he looked up at Rose as best he could. 'Don't take me back,' he pleaded.

Bracing his shoulder with one arm, Rose unrolled the rest of the blanket outward. She and her father gently rolled him onto his back once more.

'My dad's right. It's going to get dark. And you need to be checked over.'

'One, two, three,' said Pete and, grasping two corners of the blanket each, they lifted John.

'Listen to me,' John cried desperately. 'I must stay here. Please. Don't take me away. Just give me time.'

Rose halted, and Pete stopped.

'How much time?' she asked. She laid her end of the blanket down, forcing Pete to follow suit.

'I don't know,' John whispered. 'Time. Doesn't run like clockwork. Doesn't work that way.'

'Why?' Rose demanded. 'Why do you want to stay here? Is something supposed to happen?'

'No, no, nothing like that,' he said. 'I must see it through. It's me, Rose, just me, but I can't leave it, him, like this.'

'Come on, Rose,' Pete said shortly. 'He's babbling.' He bent down to grasp his two corners of blanket. 'Let's go.'

'Wait,' she said, considering. She knelt down. 'Is this like when you slept all that time after you regenerated before? At Christmas? Do you need to recover here, where it's... "thinner"?'

John had opened his mouth, but then he closed it again, looking taken aback. After a moment, he nodded slightly. 'Something like that. Not exactly, but...' He trailed off, exhausted.

'All right,' she said and she stood up. 'We're staying here, Dad.'

'Rose,' said Pete warningly. 'He's off his head. Don't listen to him.'

'We're staying,' Rose repeated and she crossed her arms. 'I trust him, see, and if he says he needs to stay, then he needs to stay. Now help me find somewhere sheltered so we can be out of this wind.'

'You're both mental,' muttered Pete, but he joined Rose in scanning the area. Almost immediately he pointed. 'Look, right there. That rock formation. It's at least four feet high and above the water line. There's a nice little nook in there. It's almost v-shaped. You two sit in there, and it'll protect you from the wind.'

'Perfect,' said Rose. 'Help me get him there.'

-o-O-o-

In the end, Pete, muttering and grumbling all the while, hauled out enough tarps, sleeping bags, blankets and pillows that soon the v-shaped nook became waterproofed and snug. He had even found a board that he could wedge upright into the sand, but slightly angled against the back of the cleft. They laid John so his back and head were resting against the board and so he could look out to sea.

As Rose arranged pillows behind his head and blankets swathing him from shoulders to toes, Pete worked on something over their heads. After a few minutes, he jumped down and crouched, peering in at them.

'There you are,' he said. 'That tarp is anchored tight. If it decides to rain, you'll keep dry.'

'Thanks, Dad,' Rose said.

'Right, then,' said Pete. 'I'm going back to the jeep, where sensible blokes go. You need anything, you use the mobile, right?'

'Right,' said Rose. As Pete left, she looked back into the cleft. The fading light from the sky cast a glow through the orange tarp and touched John's face as if with a bit of warmth.

John opened his eyes. He had slept while they worked. 'Thank you,' he said, his voice hoarse.

'Don't thank me yet,' she said, teasingly. 'If you come down with pneumonia after all this, I'm not taking any blame.' She reached down and tugged off his shoes. Ripping open a heat packet, she shook it and then wrapped it along with his feet and lower legs in one of the blankets. 'You tell me if that starts to scorch you, all right?'

'Feels nice,' he murmured.

'And one for your hands,' she continued. She laid his hands over his stomach and slipped another heat packet among the folds of blanket.

'I feel like a mummy, and I should know,' he said, with a hint of that old insouciance.

'No mummies tonight,' she said firmly. 'And I'm finally going to get that sand off your face.' She looked around. 'I suppose there are no flannels around?'

'Use my handkerchief,' John said. 'In my breast pocket.'

Rose wound her hand through the layers of blanket and wormed her fingers into the front of his suit jacket. As she did so, leaning over him, she could feel his unsteady breath on her face.

'Got it,' she said and pulled it out. She brushed it against his cheek. A few grains of sand fell off, but the vast majority remained stuck. 'Water,' she muttered.

John smiled then, the corners of his eyes crinkling. 'Be like a mummy, Rose, and do what all good mummies do. Use your spit.'

'My what?' she said incredulously. She stared at him dumbfounded and then slowly nodded. 'Right.' She sucked on one handkerchief-wrapped finger and then swept it gently over his cheek. This time most of the sand dislodged. 'I can't believe I'm doing this. I mean... Ew!'

He sighed. 'You humans. So easily disgusted. Mothers do this everywhere. Species of all sorts.'

'I'm not a mother.'

'True.' He fell silent then. Rose sucked on her finger again and gently rubbed at his temple. It felt oddly intimate, working over him, touching his face while he submitted to her attentions-while he watched her with his wide brown eyes so close.

'You know,' she said as she worked, 'you reminded me of before, with your talk of mummies. You know, how you used to be before you regenerated. When you looked different. Or... he looked different. Or... or... both of you... I mean.' She trailed off.

'Both of us,' he said slowly. 'One of us. We were the same person, he and I. Just the same-until the Crucible, that is. But even then, really. He wouldn't admit it, you know.'

Rose paused in her work. 'But if he regenerated... he wouldn't look the same anymore, yeah? I mean, not like you?' She brought her hand up to her mouth, her own eyes wide. 'I should know this. I did... How could I have thought only of you? He isn't the same any more, is he?'

John breathed in raggedly, and then exhaled slowly. He closed his eyes. 'I'm sorry, Rose. No. He is no longer like me. He... he has moved on.'

'But he would remember us, right? Just like when you regenerated before? He would still care for me? Would he still... love me?'

John looked at her then, and didn't answer. His mouth was closed, lips downturned in that achingly familiar, somber pout.

'Wouldn't he?' she whispered.

'I don't... I don't think so,' he said so slowly, so guardedly, that Rose felt her breath catch in her throat. 'It felt hard... extreme... that regeneration. Sometimes it's like that.'

'What does that mean?' she asked, tears welling in her eyes. 'A hard regeneration? What was it, then, when I was Bad Wolf-a soft one?'

'Something like that. Everything remained the same. Well... except for my looks, personality. Height. But my feelings for you, the Tardis, who I was-that was all the same. But sometimes it's harder. Stronger. More things change.'

'Would he...' Rose held her trembling hands together, the handkerchief tightly wound between them. 'Would he remember me?'

He turned his head towards her at that. 'Oh yes, he would remember you. No doubts there.'

'But...' she prompted.

'But you will be a memory-a good one. But not a part of his current life. He... has moved on.'

'With new companions,' she said, dully.

'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry,' he said. 'Oh, Rose, how I wish I could tell you something different. But he's left both of us behind now. I don't know who he is anymore, what I would have been if I were still him. I just don't know.'

His last sentence was tight, as if he were biting down on a howl. Rose bowed her head against his chest and held him tightly, her tears wetting the blanket that covered him.

'He fought it. He fought it so hard,' John said. Rose could feel his breath coming in gasps. 'He didn't want to go. I could feel it. He was... afraid. Just like when he stopped his regeneration after being shot. It was risky. He... I... was selfish. And too high a price. Donna... my poor Donna. There's no way she could have continued as a Time Lord. She would have burned up. No kisses for her, Rose. That wouldn't have worked. She's gone. One way or the other. She's gone. And now he's gone. Oh, how he didn't want to go!'

'He's gone,' she whispered. 'But... if he didn't want to go, couldn't he go back and change things somehow? Stop whatever it was that hurt him, so he wouldn't have to regenerate?' Her voice was small.

He didn't answer immediately and she looked up. In the dim light she could see something glistening on his cheeks. In wonder, she reached up her hand and touched his face. It was wet.

'No,' he said at last. 'You can't cross your own timeline. He was a central part of the events. I am certain of it.'

'But things could be changed, yeah?'

'No. No, he couldn't. You can't. No Time Lord would ever do such a thing. They would have to be mad.' He sighed, a deep, ragged breath. 'It felt fixed. It was a fixed point in time. You can't change something like that, ever.' He looked down at her. 'You should know that.'

Rose nodded mutely. She laid her head back down on his chest. His breathing wasn't as turbulent now, but she could still feel the tension in him.

'Besides,' he said, 'why would he want to? He is a new person now. New life, new personality. The old cares and concerns... and loves... dropped away. Time for a new life. New adventures. That's what he... the old he... I... didn't want to lose. He didn't want to lose himself, what he had become. What you helped him become.'

'Become what?' asked Rose. Her heart beat a little faster.

John smiled at her fondly, shaking his head slightly. 'Oh, you have no idea. Just no idea.'

'Then tell me if I have no idea,' she said sharply. 'Don't leave me guessing. He always did.'

John's smile vanished and he looked down. 'Someone who could love again. Love unreservedly, wholeheartedly. Trustingly. Even if he could never really say it. He tried.'

'And now he's gone,' she said. 'You're the only one left. Even if I had stayed with him, he'd be gone anyways.'

'Yes,' he said softly. 'I'm sorry.' He smiled again, tentatively this time. 'But I suppose I'm carrying the torch now. He didn't want to go, but I'm still here. I'm not going anywhere. All that he had become-it's still in me. It's still who I am. I can keep it for him.'

He struggled a bit and Rose raised her head. 'Blast it,' he muttered. He looked at her beseechingly. 'I need to get my hand free. Can you help me?'

She unwound the top layer of blankets and reached down inside. Her hand found his and she gently drew his arm out of the coverings. His fingers wound around hers and held them tightly.

'Oh, Rose... Rose... Rose. You've had such a hard time of it, this past year. I know. I have felt it. I'm him but not really him. Not for you at any rate.'

She said nothing, but tears welled in her eyes once more.

'For me,' he continued, 'I was him. He was me. This past year has been a new adventure for me, the beginning of an adventure he could never have. But who he was is still a part of who I am. My identity, if you will. But I know that is not the case for you. You see me as different. As not him. Human. Not Time Lord.'

'I chose you,' she said. 'Remember?'

'Oh yes. I remember,' he said. 'But it wasn't really a choice, was it? He left us here. Both of us. I understand why, but... It hurt, didn't it.'

Rose looked away, looked out to sea. Dusk had fallen and it was hard to see the water now. 'It hurt,' she said at last.

With difficulty, John reached up and gently, so very gently, drew the back of his crooked finger down her cheek. 'I'm so sorry,' he said softly. 'I can't give you what he could. No thrilling, daring adventures in the Tardis. I'm not Time Lord... well... not in the ways that matter.'

'I know,' said Rose and she turned to look at him. 'But... if I had stayed with him, maybe I wouldn't have liked the new him. I wouldn't have liked just being a reminder of his past life and nothing more. Hard regeneration... that sounds awfully final. He will lose what he learned as you?'

'No,' he said thoughtfully. 'Not lose. He will still be him... just different. Everything that has gone on before stays a part of him. But that's both the gift and the curse of regeneration. It gives you a fresh start. You can see things differently-a different perspective. Old fears and concerns-they're still there, but they don't have the same power over you... at least, sometimes.'

'But with this "hard regen-"' began Rose.

'Yeah,' he said. 'A little calmer, a little... dare I say it... wiser.'

'And the curse?'

John sighed. 'It feels a little like a death. Each time... each "life" feels unique. What is particularly precious to one "life" may not be there for another.'

'So,' she said slowly, 'when you clean out a computer... say for a virus or something... you dump all the programs, but the operating system still gets reloaded. The basic part-the basic personality.'

He gave a short laugh. 'That's a first,' he said. 'I've never been compared to a computer before. And... a virus? Oi! Not sure I like the sound of that.'

Rose grinned and tilted her head. 'Sorry. Not a virus.' The grin vanished. She reached over and cupped his jaw with her hand. 'Not a virus. I did choose you. You offered your life to me. Remember that?'

He nodded and leaned his head into her palm.

'And I accepted,' she said, almost fiercely. 'You're mine, and you are him. He is you and only you now. No more ghosts. Do you understand? Neither of us know who he is any more, and it doesn't matter. That chapter is closed. It's done. Do you understand?'

He nodded again slowly.

'No more comparisons,' she said softly. 'By either of us. Okay?'

'No more comparisons,' he whispered.

'Good,' she whispered back.

They both looked out to the sea then. The wind had died down a little, and they could hear the small waves hissing on the beach.

'The light's almost gone,' she said. 'Dad gave me a hurricane lantern. It's here somewhere. Half a tick.'

It didn't take long for Rose to find the lantern and the matches. As soon as the lantern was lit, the nook was filled with warm, dancing light.

John chuckled. 'Aw... I love it. You lot, with all your technological gadgets and LEDs and torches, but when you go camping, you still use the old, faithful flame.'

Rose shrugged. 'It feels warmer, I suppose.' She crawled back over the blankets and sleeping bags and wriggled over to his side so that she too could lean against the board. 'Mind if I share your space?'

'Not at all,' he said, but his voice seemed distant.

'What is it?' she asked. 'What's wrong?'

He didn't answer. She sat up and turned to him. His eyes were unfocused and his lips slightly parted.

'John?'

'It's ending,' he whispered. 'It's fading.'

'What is?' she repeated. 'What's fading?'

'The regeneration,' he said. He sniffed, one long sniff, and exhaled raggedly.

'But... I thought that was finished,' she said. 'You mean... wait, you mean that sleeping time? The recovery?'

'Something like that,' he said. 'Fading. It's almost complete.'

'Oh...' Rose said. 'That's why you needed to stay. I thought so.'

'It's more than that. I don't know... This is new to me,' he murmured. 'More than just fading... There... there it goes... Oh...'

And suddenly, he choked back a sob.

'No, no,' said Rose. 'You knew it would happen. Let it go.'

'I'm sorry,' he gasped. 'I'm sorry. No... it's more. I didn't realize it would be like this.'

'Like what?' she asked. She took his hand again. 'Tell me,' she said.

'A door closing,' he said. 'Closing forever. All year, I could still feel him, his song. I'm still Time Lord for all that I'm human. I can sense things. Always there, his song. Faint, but under everything else. Now, nothing. Nothing at all. The silence-it's like a roaring in my ears.'

'Is he dead?' quavered Rose.

'No, not dead,' he said hollowly. 'But his story is going on without me. I'm no longer a part of it. No longer connected.'

'But he is still you,' she protested. 'Different, but you.'

He shook his head. 'I was tied to who he was, not is. Intrinsically. The meta-crisis... And now he's gone down a new path, mine can't follow. I just didn't realize how much...'

'How much that would hurt,' said Rose softly. 'I know the feeling.'

He looked at her then and this time the sob escaped. He bowed his head and Rose drew him to her and held him tightly in her arms as he cried freely and unashamedly.

-o-O-o-

They slept like that, his head on her chest and her holding him, both swathed together in blankets and sleeping bags. Rose only moved to refresh the heat packs and to draw the hoods of each of their jackets around their heads. John did not stir all night long.

Grey light was returning to the world when Rose woke to the sound of crunching footsteps outside the cleft.

Pete peered in through the entrance. 'You two still alive?' he asked.

Rose uncurled and yawned. The air was cold. 'Yeah,' she said sleepily. She looked down at John, but his eyes were closed and he was breathing slowly and evenly. 'We're still in one piece.'

'I've brought you tea,' Pete said. He crawled in and handed Rose a thermos and two plastic mugs. He looked at John. 'I fancy he could do with some. Do you two think that we'll be able to move on this morning?'

Rose touched John's face gently. He sighed slightly in his sleep and burrowed his head a little closer against her. 'Yeah,' she said. 'We're done here.'

When John awoke, Rose fed him the tea, holding the cup to his lips. When he had drunk it all, he exhaled noisily. 'Ahh. Brilliant. I've always said there's nothing quite like a cup of tea to get one jump-started. Bless your dad.'

He sat up then and looked around. 'You two really did make quite a nest in here. I'm almost going to miss this spot.' He stood. Immediately his head hit the overhanging tarp and thrust it upwards. 'Whoops.' He promptly sat back down.

Rose laughed. 'You have to crawl out, silly.'

'So I see,' he said, and started to divest himself of all the blankets and sleeping bags.

-o-O-o-

It didn't take long to strike camp between the three of them, and soon Rose and John were taking one last walk along the shore.

'It's still thinner here,' he mused. 'I can't sense anything at all now, but it's still thinner.'

'So if anything were to happen,' said Rose, 'it would still happen here.'

'Yes,' he said. 'But unlikely.'

'That doesn't matter,' said Rose, and she suddenly turned her face up to look at him. 'Because we are the ones with the stories that matter. It's us now and only us. You and me.'

John put his arm around her. 'Yeah,' he said, smiling. 'You and me.'

'Kiss me,' she said.

John stopped walking. 'Kiss you?' he echoed.

'Kiss me,' Rose repeated, standing with her hands on her hips. 'Right now.'

'By your command,' he said and grinned. 'Oooh, I've always liked that phrase. A nice, funky sci-fi sort of phrase. Always wanted to use it.' He cupped her cheeks in his hands and touched his lips to hers softly.

'Mmm, nice,' she said when they parted. 'But there's something missing.'

He frowned. 'What?'

'All year,' she said. 'All year you've insisted that your name is John. You've never let anyone call you Doctor. I don't know if you've been trying to distance yourself from him, or you don't feel like you're the Doctor anymore... I don't know.'

'Yes?' he said, still frowning.

'Or maybe it's been me,' Rose said and she looked down. 'Sometimes I wonder if you have been trying to protect me-trying not to take his spot in my heart.'

John looked away from her then. 'Found me out, have you?' he said, his voice tight.

'Yeah, I have,' she responded. 'But the thing is-you are the Doctor. You always have been. You're my Doctor. And even if you were not him for me before, you are you for me now. Time Lord and human, sane and serious and barking mad all at the same time-and I love you for it.

'Please don't deny who you are anymore. At least not for me. Kiss me as you. As the Doctor you are.'

He looked at her wonderingly and then so tenderly that Rose shivered.

'Kiss me, Doctor,' she whispered.

And the Doctor kissed her, deeply, passionately. His arms cradled her against him as if he'd never let go of this most precious being.

And Rose knew that the cautious dance they had both woven around each other for the past year was over. No matter what might be in store for them, what adventures lay around the corner, she and the Doctor faced their new life as one. Together.

The End