Title: Home

Author: Megan Faye

Rated: PG

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who

Author's Note: This started out as a small one-shot, and snowballed. Here's hoping for another good story!

This story deals with depression, romance, fluff, love, hurt, comfort, trust, and new beginnings. This is life, in every way. Depression doesn't just hurt those who are depressed. Depression hurts everyone.


"Jackie," Pete called into the master suite. "Is this the proper tie?"

"Are you serious? No, get the dark blue one. Brown! Really!" she laughed. Tony toddled after his father into the closet. "Do you think Rose and The Doctor are all right?"

"No." She waited for more, and when he said nothing she went into the closet.

"Why not?"

"He's never had to live a life, day to day, thinking of every choice he's made, how many lives were saved or not saved, the race of Daleks he obliterated, and his people stuck in a bubble. He had a wife, children...grand children. He's going to go crazy here," Pete said as he put on a proper matched tie. "Not to mention the age difference between the two of them. She's barely an adult, and he's nearly a century old. How does this look?"

"Very nice," she whispered as she straightened the tie. "Where are you off to tonight?"

"I'm taking you out for a special dinner. We've got the nanny for the night, and the rest of the staff is out. Rose and her Doctor need some time alone to sort through things." He lifted her favorite dress from the rack. "Where ever you'd like to go, my darling."


Rose paced in front of the window, staring at the floor. After yet another heated argument, The Doctor stormed off to their bedroom. He stated clearly, and under no uncertain terms, that he was not ever going to leave the house, he was safe, and wouldn't likely be killed, maimed or injured if he stayed within these walls, and she was not going to convince him otherwise.

This was a problem.

Rose had spent so much time on her own in this parallel universe, she built a life. She had friends, hobbies, and she wanted to include him in her world, as he had included her in his. Sure, it wasn't life-or-death situations on a day-to-day basis. She ran much, much, less than she used to. Rose enjoyed her life. She enjoyed being 23! It had only been 4 years since he found Rose in the department store basement. She was so young!

And He was 904.

This was going to be a big problem.

"Talk about your age gap," Rose muttered to herself. Most 23-year-old women were in a University, or travelling around the world. She had traveled the multiverse! If a mundane, ordinary life can go through 4 years of the most extraordinary adventures, and still find happiness in day-to-day living, he should be able to find even a speck of joy.

"We're totally mad," she muttered to herself again. This time, she left the comfort of her music room and trotted up the stairs. She knew she could snap him out of this.


Rose was speaking. He knew that much. She'd been speaking for some time. The Doctor just couldn't force himself to focus.

"Can you do that?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Can you try to find one thing every day to be happy about?" He nodded and stared blankly ahead. He felt like a Weeping Angel had taken his life.

"I will do my best."

"Please come outside. Just to see that you are safe. To the tree and back-"

"Nope. Can't do it." He laid back onto the couch.

"Doctor, 6 billion people live on this planet, without the ability to regenerate, and they leave their house every day and work, or play, or take a walk. Can't just try? Please? For me?" He shook his head hard.

"What if the sun goes nova? What if...what if I catch something? I've got no immune system, a cold could kill me! A tree could fall on me. One of those dogs you mother insists on having in the garden could attack-"

"You won't die going outside. The Pomeranians aren't going to attack you. Even if they did, they are the size of a loaf of bread. Tony's only a year and spends plenty of time out-" The Doctor shook his head again.

"Once you've been immortal, mortality is far more frightening." Rose rested her chin in her hands, making her look far younger than she was. "Rose, I've been traveling-"

"Through time and space for nearly 900 years, seen wars and peace, ends and beginnings of worlds and species, and have died 9 times. This is the last life that you're ever going to have, and anything that you come across can possibly end it." The Doctor shot her a dirty look. "You want to stay in here, hiding from the only life you have left, find. Enjoy yourself. I'm going to a movie with my friends."

Before he could form a protest, she was gone, with a slamming of the door.


The Doctor was avoiding everyone. He'd lock himself in one of the offices in the house, and continue his work on his identity, making certain that ever detail in his newly written childhood flowed without contradiction, and memorizing key points. He would eventually need to be able to recite this. Pete did everything, except name him. Maybe this would be easier if he had a name.

A parent picks a name for the child. He had no parent figure. Jackie and Pete were as close as he would ever have to parents in this world, but only because he was in-love with their daughter. They named her and Tony so easily. A name can help define a person who has no definition yet. "Sammy" and "David" were mischievous. "Matthew" was trouble, but usually not any more than "Sammy," just without the humor. "Douglas" was nerdy. "Adam" was boisterous. He was a bit of everything, and had no idea what he should call himself.

He researched names, tried to pick something to call himself, and nothing felt right. Maybe he couldn't pick a name because he didn't feel like he belonged. Maybe it was the other way around. Either way, being a nameless human wasn't helping.

So he decided it was time to stop thinking and just sleep.


Rose stared into the darkened bedroom. He hadn't gotten out of the bed for at least a week, aside from the absolute necessary. Being human, losing the TARDIS and his life of traveling through time and space had taken such a toll on The Doctor. She had brought him food, and he ate, with a smile for her, but not a lot of words were spoken.

"Doctor?" she called into the darkness. He turned to face her, putting on a weak smile.

"Rose, I'm sorry-" he started. This was how most of their conversations started. He was sinking into depression. "I'm not that man. I'm not what you were promised-"

"You are who I love and I'm not going anywhere," was her simple reply as she dropped onto the bed. He tucked himself into her arms and sobbed.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," he gasped. Rose rubbed his back. She felt like crying right along with him, but held back. He was desperate, and Rose was terrified for him. He didn't want to leave the house, and only left the bedroom when he had to. Some nights, he would pace the room, thinking, for hours.

"Tomorrow, we're going to see a doctor," she decided. "You need help."

"No, I'll come out of this-" he pleaded.

"I need the help, Doctor. I can't watch you hurting like this. Tomorrow." The guilt of hurting her added to his emotional state, and made him feel even worse than he did. He nodded. Anything was better than hurting Rose.