In quiet moments, she sits and watches him. He is never still unless he is sleeping, which he never seems to be. Pacing, pressing buttons, often muttering under his breath, he busies himself constantly. She wonders what happened that was so terrible that he feels the need to distract himself every moment, what horrors he had seen, how many deaths he has witnessed. She guesses that if she ever came out and asked he would either lie or avoid answering her completely, but that does not lessen her curiosity in the least.

She wants to understand, if for no other reason than to be able to comfort him. She cares for him, this time-and-space traveling alien in his natty tuxedo and Converse, his brown hair cut short so that it spikes upward at his forehead. He has not always looked this way - he used to wear a leather jacket and had ears that stuck out for miles, but his appearance was not what drew her to him. In fact, if she is honest she cannot explain just what his attraction is. All she does know is that he is the only person that has ever given her purpose, a reason to be better.

She thinks that she loves him, but she is not certain. Not because he is unworthy, but simply because she has never felt true love before this, so she has nothing to compare it with. She has seen every side of him, from playful to sad, from happy to angry, and even though his rage sometimes frightens her, she trusts him without question.

Now, standing beside him on his beloved TARDIS, she stares into his eyes and sees the scars he carries, the guilt he holds onto, and her heart hurts for him. Nudging him out of his reverie, she grins at him.

"Looking forward to this one," she says excitedly. "I've needed a vacation."

He nods and tries at a smile that falters a moment later. "Yes, you have."

Her grin fades. "What is it?"

"Hmm?" He asks. Then, "Nothing. Nothing. I've just...I've a lot on my mind, is all."

"I can see." Tapping his chin with her fist, she smiles again. "Buck up, then; there's sun and sand in our future."

He opens his mouth to say something, but then his gaze shifts to sadness and he turns away to look at the screen on the console. Confused, her eyes fill with tears, but she gazes at the ceiling and blinks them away, determined not to cry. It is while she is in this position that his voice, soft and full of regret, calls her name.

"Rose?"

She gazes at him. "Yeah?"

At first, he does not move. Then, his hand reaches over to cover hers, his fingers squeezing ever so gently. "I know you want to understand me, but trust me when I say I'm protecting you and you're better off not knowing."

"But," she begins, but he shakes his head.

"No, Rose. You have been the most amazing companion I have had the pleasure of knowing. I have never met someone so caring and willing to help others, even ones you don't know. You have a good heart - I'd hate to blemish it with my mistakes."

She presses her other hand against his cheek, her fingertips warm on his skin. Her brown eyes stare deeply into his as she says, "Wouldn't worry 'bout that. Even your mistakes are wonderful."

He smiles then, even if his eyes are still sad, and she lightly kisses his cheek, just above his jawbone.

"My Doctor," she whispers, before wandering away to look at some random gadget a few feet away, and he feels his twin hearts break just a little more.

- END