It had been two days since he had last seen Rose when the Doctor first had the nightmare.
Rose was standing on the beach with her back to him. The Doctor called out to her, but she did not reply. She just kept walking away. She reached the edge of the beach, her feet sinking into the sand as the waves washed over them. She knelt by the water, still facing away from him.
The Doctor reached out for her, catching a few strands of her hair.
"Rose…" He whispered. Her hair turned to ash at his touch.
Horrified, the Doctor stepped back, and as he did so, the figure kneeling in front of him turned. The image seemed to stutter, and as it did so it flickered back and forth between an image of Rose as he had known her, blonde and young, but with darkness in her eyes, and trails of tears down her cheeks and a horrific projection of this creature, barely recognisable, grey skin, black eyes and teeth sharper than razor blades. Blood ran down its cheeks, and sparks like fire danced in its eyes.
"Bad Wolf." A voice echoed. "Look at what you have done."
The Master stood in the sea, shaking his head disapprovingly, blood soaking through his shirt.
"Look, Theta." he said, and he smiled.
Coffins were floating in the sea. The ocean was full of them.
Touch. The Doctor jumped. Rose stood beside him, whole and complete. She slipped her hand into his.
"Doctor." she said.
The second time he woke from the same nightmare, the TARDIS groaned uneasily around him.
"I know, old girl." He said, patting part of the control panel he had apparently passed out on. He had understandably not been too keen on sleeping again after the first nightmare. Time felt odd. Space felt odd, as if there was something bubbling away underneath the surface. And in those dreams, when the 'Bad Wolf' looked at him, it caused his head to split with agony. The TARDIS could feel it too. Something was coming.
The Doctor picked himself up and moved over the main console. Things were coming, and very soon, much sooner than perhaps he would have liked, things were going to get a lot, lot worse. He knew that. But this Doctor was defeated now. He had watched the only woman he had ever loved kiss a man who wasn't quite him. He had given her to him. And it had broken his hearts all over again.
He had given her everything he could not be. He would be perfect, undamaged and so very, very human. Because he could be. Because although they shared the same memories, the same face, the scars that riddled the real Doctor went deep. Most of all the ones from loosing her the first time. Why would she want someone so…incomplete?
He couldn't do that to Rose. He couldn't offer her his hand again, knowing that he would hurt her all over again, and that selfishly, he would have to live to see her die.
Running, running, always running. Across time, across space, away from monsters, away from himself.
But for how much longer?
Something in his mind itched. His left hand throbbed. Oh, something was wrong. Something was very wrong indeed.
That same night, he received Rose's message.
He was standing on the beach again, only this time it was different. It was night, and the beach had changed. houses were built along the grassy shore, but all of them abandoned. A pocket watch was nailed to the door of each of the houses. One house stood alone on the beach, two windows lit with orange light, staring at him like eyes. A baby screamed and howled in the distance.
And then Rose was there, standing a little way ahead of him in front of the house, hair blowing in the wind. She seemed to be looked right through him.
"Don't worry," she said, "he always comes back. He always comes back."
Her eyes were wide and haunted.
"Four." She said. "Only four."
The Doctor looked down the beach. There were no more coffins in the sea, but four bodies lined side by side on the sand, the tide creeping away from them.
"Who…" He started, but then found Rose was no longer in front of him. It was him. His left hand throbbed in his sleep. His human face looked back at him, the man who he had given Rose to, and smiled.
"Hello Doctor."