The Doctor was slumped in a chair beside the unconscious figure. They were in the medical room. At least that was what he assumed it was, he hadn't actually seen it before but it probably was. Rose was lying on one of the beds there, shockingly pale. She looked so pale and so un-Roselike that the Doctor couldn't bring himself to look at her. He had his feet up on another bed and his eyes shut.
He could hear Martha moving around them, trying to keep quiet. He knew she thought he was asleep because she'd turned the sound off on Rose's heart monitor. He wasn't asleep, he wished he was. He was so tired, so very tired. There was too much going around in his head. He couldn't work out how Rose was here, it was just impossible. Well, it should've been impossible. Evidently it was, the proof was lying on the bed in front of him.
There was the other problem, as well. He tried to recall what Mickey had said… What was it now? "The missus and the ex. Welcome to every man's worst nightmare!" He would've laughed were it not so true. Rose's words were haunting him, drifting through his head. "You can call me Sarah Jane now".
Words whispered close to his ear, "Doctor?" His heart leapt but then he realized it wasn't Rose, just Martha. Feigning sleep he didn't reply.
"I'm going to go and get changed, I'll leave you with Rose… Sarah… Whatever her name is, I'll leave her with you. She's not unconscious anymore, just sleeping."
The Doctor could hear her walking away, silly heels clacking against the shiny white floor. He knew he should probably open his eyes and keep at least one of them on Rose but he was too tired, tired of all of this. He shifted in his chair and decided to sleep.
--
He was woken up by screams, high pitched and shrill. Those would be Martha's then, they weren't Rose's. He attempted to jump to his feet and see what was happening. He tried too quickly and ended up on the floor, face down in something sticky.
He froze, something sticky and wet. Something sticky, wet and red. Uh-oh, that wasn't good. Not good at all.
He tried to cry out but found his throat wouldn't let him. "Rose?" It was all he could managed, no matter how much he wanted to scream for her, no matter how much he tried to scream for her, he couldn't. His lungs seemed determined to starve him of air, even as he drew in a shaky breath.
He rose and moved towards her slowly, in a dream like state. He had to be dreaming, that was it. Rose's eyes could never be that dull, never be that lifeless. He tried to kid himself even as he inhaled the sickening smell of death.
"No Rose… No no no. Please god no." He moaned, taking in the harsh wound running right across her throat, her skin stained a vivid red.
He could hear Martha beside him, her words didn't reach his brain. He could only focus on the body in front of him, Rose, his Rose dead. It just couldn't be; they'd been through so much, saved the world together so many times, damn it she'd done the impossible, she'd found a way back to him from a parallel universe without shattering the whole of time and space. And now she was dead.
Lifting the knife out of Rose's hand he linked his fingers in hers. He let his head fall next to hers, pressing his nose to her cold cheek and cried. He cried longer than he could ever remember crying, longer than he thought possible, far longer than he'd cried when he said goodbye to her. Sobs racked his body while his tears washed her blood away from his face and onto the bed where they dried, together.
Finally he lifted his head and looked at her, his thumb stroking the back of her hand.
"Oh Rose… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." It was all he could do for her, whisper an apology that came much too late.
He didn't know why she'd done it but he could give a pretty good guess. She didn't want to end up as another Sarah Jane. How could she have thought that? Didn't she realize that she was different, she was special.
He ran a hand through his hair, wincing as fingers ripped through tangles caused by the dried blood there. There was too much going through his mind. Things he wished he'd done, things he wished he'd said or had the guts to say. He sighed and let his head fall into his hands, fighting back more tears. So caught up in his own self pity he almost missed the small gasp that came from the body in front of him. Almost, but not quite.
He lifted his head but refused to allow himself hope; it would just be Martha back to see if he was alright. He frowned, Martha wasn't back yet. For the third time that day he froze, shock and fear creeping over him. The jagged wound across Rose's neck was gone, replaced by a small white scar which even now was rapidly shrinking.
The fingers pulling away from his, Rose was sitting up and staring at the blood staining her hands. That couldn't be right. You can't sit up if you're dead. Although knowing Rose…
"Rose?" He made a mental note to think of new things to say to her, that one was getting a bit old.
"Doctor? It worked then? I'm really here… Oh yeah, I remember. Sarah Jane, right?" She had to turn away from him so he wouldn't see the tears staining her cheeks.
He reached out to turn her face back towards his, he needed to explain to her, only to have his hand batted away.
"Oh Rose. No Rose, no. Never a Sarah Jane, never." Then the impossibility of the situation struck him and he had to ask her about it, "Wait Rose, wait. Look at me just for a minute." He waited until she turned reluctantly to face him, wiping at her face with her bloodied sleeves.
"How did you… You were… What happened?" He looked at her pleadingly, trying to get her to see how sorry he was, trying to make her understand.
She just stared at her blood stained hands and shrugged. "I can't die… Or I can but then I don't, right?" She snapped from behind shaking hands.
It wasn't really, not at all. For a start that was impossible, but that was Rose. She'd found a way back to him, she'd defied death, she'd…
"Rose, I have to know exactly what…" The Doctor started, only to be cut off by Martha walking back into the room, arms full of rags and heavy duty bleach. She screamed, again, and the Doctor groaned.
Rose tried her best to get to the door without falling over, she ended up clinging to one of the beds, looking pleadingly at the Doctor.
"I'm going to bed, in my room. If it's still there." With that she stumbled out of the room, leaving the Doctor and Martha to clean up after her.