Overcome

By: Montez

Disclaimer: Nothing Dr. Who or related characters belongs to me, but to the BBC.

A/N: Okay my second attempt...I just re-watched the Unquiet Dead episode and to me that episode gave the first hints of the Doctor's beginning feelings toward Rose and my view of the Ninth Doctor is a being that is wound very tight, he gives the impression of someone who could either blow-up and go completely ballistic or as someone who could shatter into a million pieces and I believe that is why I am drawn to writing him. Hope I did okay and that you enjoy-Montez

The gas, the natural gas is what had drawn the Gelth through the rift and it was the gas that could draw them out of their dead hosts, 'why hadn't he thought of that?' was all he could think as Charles raced back into the morgue shouting about the gas. However as quickly as his minded processed his lack of clarity he knew exactly why he had not thought of that, it was because of the young woman slightly trembling beside him. His focus had been Rose…when he'd lost her outside the theater his sole focus had been to find her, when he heard her scream from the depths of the mortuary he ran, kicking in the door she was trapped behind, when the Gelth had used Gwyneth and crossed the rift animating the dead in the morgue he had grabbed Rose, pulling her away, placing himself between her and the danger. Upon backing her into the small room with the iron door he was hoping for a few moments of clarity to figure out how to get them out of this mess, but he was at loss, he didn't really care about himself, hadn't for a long time, but the girl beside had awaken something in his heart, in his soul he believed lost after the war…he refused to name it but knew he would rather die, himself, than allow anything to happen to her.

The trimmer in her voice as she couldn't understand how she could die in an earlier century than she'd been born in caused his normally sharp mind to faultier, his words froze in his throat. When he said he'd been glad he'd met her, he meant it more than she could ever imagine, she had reminded him that the caring, 'Doctor' part of him did still exist underneath the harden 'Soldier' he'd been forced to become and it had been worth the chance he took with her, she had helped him begin to find himself again.

Charles' continued shouts about the gas drew him back to the task at hand; the theory should work as he quickly explained it to Rose, jerking the gas line from the wall next to them, the noxious fumes quickly filling the small space as seconds passed before the ethereal forms of the Gelth left their hosts. He vaguely heard Rose gag on the smell he barely noticed, then as the stepped into the main room she coughed, he shouted at Charles to get Rose out, but the wonderfully stubborn girl refused at first, it was only after another cough that he forced her into Dickens's arms with a promise to try and save the servant girl before them that Rose finally left the morgue.

Moments passed once he realized the young servant girl was lost to him and understanding the sacrifice she had already made he raced up the stairs, hardly noticing the thickness of the air, only knowing what it meant, he was just steps out the door when the blast knocked him off his feet. A fraction of a second it took him to recover and stand, his eye's looking back toward the building, then searching out the face he needed to know was safe and there she was; slightly flushed, her body trembling from a combination of adrenaline and cold, but she was there. A questioning look in her eyes had him quickly explaining about Gwyneth as they watched the flames leaping into the night.

Just as a crowd was beginning to gather the Doctor, Rose and Charles moved back into the alleyway, no one would believe the story behind the disaster so it was best to quickly remove themselves and allow everyone to believe it was a tragic accident. As they walked toward the Tardis he noticed Rose faultier slightly, her step a mere stumble as he grabbed her elbow, "Rose?"

Rose's hand touched her forehead as she gave him a slight smile, "Ice and these boots, not a good mix." she didn't know why she had lied to him, but was relieved he seemed to accept her excuse. Maybe it was the concern in his eyes that unnerved her as it had in that small room in the morgue. She wasn't use to someone looking at her that way. However she knew something was off, but couldn't put her finger on it, she felt wobbly, her head fuzzy, her chest tight. She tried to push it away as adrenaline and fear over what they had just experienced, she would rest once they got back to the Tardis.

They said their goodbye's to Charles Dickens, 'the Charles Dickens', she felt herself giggle as she placed a kiss on his cheek then she followed the Doctor through the doors of the Tardis and in that moment she felt her breath hitch and her vision gray. The Doctor had bound up the ramp, quickly pushing buttons and pulling levers to get them away form 1869 Cardiff, Rose barely noticed as she leaned against the doors, her legs losing the will to move up the slight incline. She placed her hand to her chest, it was feeling as if she was breathing through a straw, her head was pounding as her pulse raced, the Doctor's voice droned in the background as she raised her eyes to look toward him, something was wrong, terribly wrong and she was terrified, more terrified than she had ever been in her life, more terrified than facing plastic manikins, than facing the end of the world, because in those instances she knew the Doctor was going to fix everything, that he would save the day (even if he did need her help with the anti-plastic), but this was not an outside foe, this was something inside her, strangling her, stealing her vision, her strength and her breath. So with her last ounce of energy, born from the need, the hope he could fix this Rose pulled in a strangled breath and was barely able to whisper "Doctor…" before her world started blinking out and just as the world went black she saw the Doctor running toward her, fear on his face…'God she hated that look' was her last thought.

Upon entering the Tardis the Doctor was eager to get them away from Cardiff, he knew Rose would have many questions, that was something he loved about her, she seemed to want to understand everything, so he immediately started on about how the gas worked in drawing the Aliens from their host as he bounced from switch to switch, lever to lever…it was then he noticed two very important things; one, Rose was not right at his side as she had been nearly every time he had worked the controls of his ship and two, she had not said a word since they had entered the Tardis, a quick glance at the gauges told him they were entering the vortex then he turned to face the doors, his hearts seized in that moment seeing Rose leaning against the doors as if they were the only thing holding her upright. Her complexion was ashen, not the healthy rosy color she normally wore after one of their adventures and she seemed to be struggling for air…in the time it took him to take all this in he heard a barely audible "Doctor…" and saw her strength leave her. His feet were moving before he could form the command to do so, "ROSE!" he yelled catching her collapsing body just before it hit the metal grating of the floor.

Her head lulled as he gently lowered her, "Rose…comeon… open those beautiful eye's for me…" He unconsciously checked her pulse, it was extremely fast and her breaths were coming in short, labored gasps. Again, as he kept finding in her presence, his normally quick mind faltered, he did a scan for physical injuries; he didn't know how close she had been to the blast that took him off his own feet. Not seeing anything he faintly caught a whiff of natural gas that still clung to their clothes, "nonono…" he mumbled, quickly pulling her impossibly small body into his arms and dashing down the hallway off the main console room, "Med-bay" he shouted out loud, but the Tardis had sensed the distress and had to first door in the hallway open already, medical equipment was already moving into place as he entered the room placing Rose's limp form on the sterile looking table in the center of the room.

He had not used this room in what seemed like a lifetime; he'd been alone so long and anytime he found himself injured he either took care of it in the console room or in his own room, the supplies always where he needed thanks to his wonderful ship. Yet as he moved around the room everything was exactly where he needed it to be, the first thing he did was place an oxygen mask over her delicate face, he froze for a moment noting the paleness, his hands trembled. Taking a deep breath he pushed the images from his mind and focused on the task at hand, he would do her no good if he allowed the dark thoughts that were playing in his mind to take over right now, right now he needed to figure out exactly what was wrong and fix it. The oxygen masked seemed to help her breathing and a quick scan from the ceiling gave him temperature, blood pressure and oxygen levels in her blood, none of which were anywhere close to normal for a health human. The scan also revealed the problem, carbon monoxide poisoning.

Another wave of hate filled his soul, he had again placed her in mortal danger and had not even realized it, the gas had not affected him, but she was a fragile human and the effects on her system could be catastrophic. There wasn't much he could do, the oxygen mask was in place, a faint mist telling him she was still breathing on her own, taking two steps from the table he pushed a code into one of the monitors feeling the air pressure change in the room, increasing the pressure in the room would help the oxygen enter her bloodstream more affectively, hopefully preventing any further damage to her body. Opening a cabinet he found a stack of shirts, pulling one out he made his way back to Rose's still form, trying to not focus on who he currently had laying on the exam table.

He gently pulled her upper body up, slipping the shirt over her head, not worrying about the oxygen tube being under the garment. He was grateful that the outfit she had chosen to wear was sleeveless, since once the shirt was in place he reached along her side, finding the clasps that held the fitted corset together and released the material, pulling it from beneath the shirt preserving her modesty. The skirt was a separate piece so he left that alone, just barely loosening the fastener to alleviate the constricting material. He moved to her feet, untying the ankle boots she had chosen. He then lifted her fragile body and turned, covering a space of less than three meters to place her in one of the two beds in the room, moving to another cabinet to pull out several blankets covering her to her chin.

It was only then that he placed his hands on the railing he'd just raised and lowered his head, drawing in a ragged breath that he felt hitch. His eyes finally looked at the figure in the bed and the universe slammed back into him…it was Rose. His fragile, stubborn, strong-willed, energetic, inquisitive, compassionate, beautiful Rose and for the first time since he watch his home planet burn a sob escaped his throat, he felt a burning in his eyes as he laid a shaking hand on her cooler than normal forehead. That touch sent a shock through his body that drove him backwards until his back hit the wall and his legs folded beneath him, his trembling body slide down, his knees pulling close as his hands covered his face, a dam broke inside him that he didn't believe he'd had anymore. He had believe that reservoir beyond dry in the days following the loss of Gallifrey, but this pink and yellow girl had taped into the depths of his soul and he was terrified, he had lost so much, so very much and he just knew no matter his number of regenerations there would be no possible way he could survive, or would want to survive, if she was taken from him.

Time passed slowly as the over six foot frame of his current regeneration had been pulled into an impossibly small form, his eyes burning from the liquid that had poured from them, his throat thick with the overwhelming emotion his body was trying to process. His eyes would alternate from looking at the still form on the bed to the numbers the Tardis displayed on the screen just above the bed. As the time passed and the numbers began to improve, the sentient ship readjusted the pressure in the room when the most critical stage of recover had passed; upon feeling the change the Doctor unfolded himself, using the wall to push his aching body up. He was surprised by the stiffness in his own form, but vaguely remembered the explosion that had blown him off his feet. He pulled a chair to the side of the bed, again touching Rose's forehead which thankfully felt near normal. All the readings from the continuous scans were coming back normal, at that the Doctor finally gave a sigh of relief. His hands still shook slightly as he lowered the railing and took Rose's hand in his, a perfect fit as always. He had noticed that from the first moment he had taken it in that basement and the numerous times since, it was like they were made for each other, so he held it tight.

More time passed before he felt a slight pressure squeeze his fingers, "Rose?" he whispered, standing, leaning slightly over the bed, watching her eye's begin to move under their lids. He felt his hearts skip a beat when her forehead pinched in her attempt to open her eyes, the lights in the room automatically dimmed as the first hint of brown shown through, The Doctor couldn't help the smile that spread across his face, those beautiful eyes focusing on his, "Hello…" He said, his free hand coming to her forehead.

A small smile crossed her face under the oxygen mask; she attempted to reach for it but was caught by his hand, "You need to leave it on a bit longer."

He could see the questioning look in her clouded eyes; she was fighting the sleep she needed to fully recover, "Carbon monoxide poisoning…" His eyes tore from hers, he couldn't face her now after waiting so long to see her awake, "I'm so sorry Rose; I didn't think…God I didn't think what might happen and…" His voice broke again, the past hours flooding his mind.

A gentle touch on his cheek drew his inward, self-loathing attention back to the woman in the bed. The look in her eyes nearly undone him again, it was a look of complete forgiveness and trust, a trust and forgiveness that he in no way felt he deserved. He felt her thumb brush away a stray tear that slipped past his defenses in her presence. He reached his hand up to cover hers, clearing his throat, "You need to rest now, when you wake up next you can take that off", he motioned to the mask on her face. He moved to pull away but her grip on his hand tightened, a flash of fear filling her eyes. The Doctor gave her what he hoped was a comforting smile, "I'm not going anywhere…" He leaned over and gently kissed her forehead, "rest…I'm right here."

Relief shown in her eyes as they closed, her grip on his hand tightening. He retook his seat, Rose was going to be okay, relief flooded his body and mind. He finally felt himself relax into the chair, his own eyes dropping in exhaustion like he hadn't known in a very long time. He had forgot what it was like to feel, to care and even though he knew exactly how those feelings could turn against him, he was glad they were back and glad they were for Rose.

A/N2: Any medical stuff was Googled, so I apologize if it is inaccurate.