Captain, My Captain

She gets flashes here and there, memories of things that didn't happen, couldn't have.

She is alight, burning and shining like a million suns. And he is there, smiling at her and watching her turn the world into stardust.

She is speaking in a voice that isn't hers, high and shrill. Empty. Sad.

Rose sees the death and birth of Venus. She's sees the start of the next great galactic empire and the end of the Milky Way galaxy.

She hears the cries of a trillion lives lost in the wars, all of them, building to such a crescendo that she doesn't think her body can take it.

My doctor.

She wakes with a heavy feeling in the very pit of her soul.

What was that?

Who was that?

Rose lies awake for the rest of the night. If she closes her eyes, just for a second, he is there, saving her and she, she is killing him. She is swirling gold. She is the ultimate power. She is the Big Bad Wolf.

And she is afraid.


When it's time for breakfast, the Doctor is up and about, full of energy, full of life. Even now, as they drink just-squeezed juice and eat fresh baked bread, she can't pull herself free of the desperation. She can only manage teary smiles and half laughs as he tries to regale her with another of his impossible stories.

Rose excuses herself shortly after. She can't look at him, can't reconcile the things that her mind is telling her even if her heart knows it to be true.


He's standing at the console, same as she's seen him, but not him, do a hundred times. She sees the hands, the face, the body that isn't his. She sees now what she has done.

"I killed you, didn't I?" Her voice is little more then a broken whisper.

The Doctor scoffs as if the thought is so ridiculous. "I'm here, aren't I?"

She steps forward hesitantly, scared of the memories revealing themselves. "But you aren't. You're different. Because I killed you."

"Rose..."

"I looked into the heart of the TARDIS and she gave me what I wanted more than anything in the universe. A way to save you. A way back. She warned me. I knew the cost. I should have died."

"No."

"I should have died." All the anger and loss burns fierce inside of her. Her lungs can't expand beyond the crushing pain. She grabs onto the railing but her legs still buckle beneath her. "You should have let me die." She wants to scream it at the top of her lungs but it comes out weak and hoarse.

Rose hangs her head, her body wracked by heaving sobs. She squeezes her eyes shut and prays to be taken away, prays to be someone else, begs to take his place.

She tries to shy away from the hand she feels on her shoulder. She doesn't want his comfort, or anyone's for that matter. The one thing she does want, she can't have and so she wants nothing.

The grate beside her creaks and then the world is shifting until she's gathered up in his arms, face buried in his chest, gasping for breath, and for reason. He holds her tight against the heaving cries and rests his cheek against soft hair.

They've been here before.


When she can find her breath, she tells him again. "I killed you." Rose whispers. "I killed my Doctor."

"You saved the universe."

"And lost you." The Doctor has had centuries to get used to the regenerations and the reaction of his companions. Despite that, the sting never quite goes away.

He doesn't get used to the disappointment or this adjustment period. The time between, when they struggle to accept his new form and he's burdened with knowing he's not quite what they want.

While his companions sleep, the Doctor spends his nights thinking back on his past lives, trying to learn to be more like his old selves but he never really succeeds.

"I may look different but I'm still me. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes. No? I don't...I want…" She begins but he tenses beneath her.

"Don't. Please." There are literally millions of things Rose can say in this moment to break his already fractured heart and he doesn't think he could bear it just yet. He wants to beg her forgiveness and ask her to stay but he has no right to. It's not his choice to make; it never is. Still, he can deflect like his very life depends on it.

"Let's get you to bed, alright? And in the morning I'll tell you the story of the man who changes his face." He presses a brief kiss to the crown of her head. "But not his heart, not his mind, and not his charming sense of humor. Still me on the inside. Different packaging but exactly what it says on the tin."

Rose squeezes him tightly, her smaller form trembling against his. The Doctor feels his stomach flutter.

"I want to stay with you." He feels a touch of hysterical laughter bubbling up in relief. He hopes the day never comes that she stops surprising him.

"Quite right. Would hate to break up this fantastic duo. Like Mulder and Scully, uncovering alien conspiracies."

"You are an alien conspiracy." She pauses; her voice is unsure and he can feel the exhaustion radiating from her body. "Can we stay here for a little while?"

"Yes, of course. We've got all the time in the universe."