Still at a loss, he bent over and sank once again to his knees, able to reach out and touch her now that Mickey was letting Jackie sob into his shoulder. He glared reproachfully at the Doctor, who barely noticed. Rose's skin was cold and had lost most of it's former color. He was still trying to digest the fact that she was dead, and it still hadn't hit him. And at the cool touch of her cheek, it hit him full-force, so hard that he actually staggered a bit on his heels. Tears strained against his eyes, tears that he refused to cry. And yet, one escaped. A sign of his weakness, forever his weakness. His Rose. He hoarsely blurted her named, once, twice, he wasn't sure that he was even speaking English anymore, or that he was speaking at all. The world was spinning around him and he was waiting. Trying to catch up. Wishing that he wanted to go on without her and knowing with a cold certainty that life without Rose could only go on so long. He would die, soon.
But he had saved reality. The thought rippled through him, causing a new wave of sadness laced with nausea. He saved reality and lost Rose. How poetic. Could there have been another way? He felt a hand on his shoulder, a man's hand, sturdy and reassuring. He felt a woman's arms wrap around his neck and he heard a disembodied voice say, "Oh, Doctor, I'm so sorry… so, so sorry…" Sobbing in the background. And the world came rushing back.
Jack was standing behind him, eyes cold and hard with sadness, more ice blue than ever. Donna was trying to hold him, trying to tell him it would be okay. He knew it wouldn't, but he managed to hug her back briefly and return to his feet. Mickey had gotten Jackie to her feet, but he had to hold her back, now, because she was trying to get at him. "You killed her! You killed her, you killed her, you killed her! You killed my baby!" Donna retaliated indignantly, taking a menacing step forward. "Oi! He did no such thing! Rose knew what she was doing, she was saving him, saving all of us…"
"He killed her!"
He stared at Jackie, her blonde hair disheveled, her eyes red-rimmed, tears pouring down her face, and felt a hard, empty place inside him, where he used to /feel/. "Yes," he agreed coldly, hating himself more in every moment. "I killed Rose Tyler." He said it more to himself, letting it sink in. Jackie cried out and wriggled free of Mickey.
He didn't react when her fist connected with his jaw. He heard the crack, knew that it had hurt him, and knew that her wedding ring had cut a gash in his chin, but he didn't even blink. He wanted her to keep on hitting him until he could feel again. Jack made a grab at her and was able to hold her back. "Stop! Stop it, all of you, stop!"
Even Jackie went silent. The Doctor managed to turn his head and look at her. Donna cleared her throat, her eyes glassy from tears. "Now, look. I'm… I'm sorry Rose died…" Mickey retorted indignantly, "You didn't even know her!"
"I'm sorry she died," Donna repeated, glaring at Mickey before casting a helpless glance at the Doctor, "but she saved all of us. And she knew what she was doing, when she did it. And nobody is to blame. You hear me? Nobody."
Without another word, he bent down and scooped her body into his arms. He turned away from the others and went to the lift, passing the remains of the Daleks he had killed with almost no effort. He stepped out onto the platform and flipped the switch, knowing that the others were standing there. Crying, some of them. Angry, some of them. All of them waiting.
When they caught up to him again and he heard them enter the TARDIS, he wasn't in the control room, or the console. He wasn't in his room, where he rarely was anyway. He wasn't in the library, either, or any of the literally countless other rooms inside his ship.
He was in Rose's room. The only companion's room he had kept after she had left. Another sign of his weakness. He had laid her on what had once been her bed, arranged her the way she always slept (on her right side, her right arm outstretched and her hand curled as if awaiting something.), and covered her with a blanket.
Was he trying to convince himself that she was just asleep? Not really. He was more just trying to do something with himself. He kneeled beside her bed as he had countless times, watching her sleep. But now she was dead. He had killed her, his only… the only one he could… he had ever…
Loved.
He let his head fall onto her shoulder and the tears came freely, if silently. "I'm sorry," he whispered or choked or cried, "I am so, so sorry." Someone was there beside him, her head on his shoulder, arm around him. Donna, of course. Nobody else knew where Rose's room was. Or had been. She had found him there, sitting on her bed feeling sorry for himself that she'd passed him by. But at least then she hadn't been dead.
"I never told her," he blurted suddenly, looking up but not at Donna. "Not really. I sort of implied it. But I never said it. I never said, 'I love you, Rose Tyler'." Donna turned his head with a hand and made him look at her. "She knew, Doctor. It was in everything you did. She had to know. And, well… you saved reality, didn't you?" He shook his head sadly, gazing sadly down at the body on the bed. "I saved everything, but I lost her. I couldn't save her." Neither said anything, but he moved to the side and hugged her, letting her feel as if she had comforted him. In a way, she had.
And then, a soft voice said, "I love you, too."
His initial reaction was something along the lines of what? Had it been Donna? No. The look on her face told him that she was just as surprised. He saw that nobody was at the door, but the only other person in the room was…
"Impossible," he breathed, turning his head ever so slowly, hoping he hadn't imagined it.
Rose gazed at him, a weak smile plastered to her now colored face, her eyes as beautifully brown and as lovely as ever. And in that moment, oh how he loved her! With every single atom in his body he loved her, and he could even forget that Donna was there. He couldn't forget that Rose was dead.
"Rose," he heard himself whisper, "But…but…but how?" She smiled and her hand reached out to touch him gently on the cheek with her fingertips, sending a quiver of hot energy though him at her touch. "I am Bad Wolf," she said then, a quiet understanding passing between them. "And I create myself."
He let out a breath, and broke every rule he had ever set for himself.
This was no game.
This was a real kiss. When he cupped a hand around her cheek, caressing the soft skin just below her ear, leaned over and pressed his lips to hers, he did it with all the love and care he could muster.
And as she responded, pressing back with equal force, he remembered that they were not, in fact, the only people in the universe. He pulled back, probably too quickly not to seem shocked or disgusted, and found that Donna was grinning madly, standing behind him. And beside her, an arm wrapped possessively around her waist, was Captain Jack Harkness.
"Good Lord," he said brightly, "That was weird, huh?" The Doctor's eyes fell again to where the other man's arm was draped around Donna's waist.
"What are you doing?" Donna elbowed him and he shoved his hands in his pockets with a grin. "Nothin', loverboy. So, Rose, how's bein' immortal feel?" She smiled, albeit sheepishly, and mimed batting him away, sitting up. "Shut up, Jack."
And then it dawned on him.
Rose.
Rose was immortal.
Bad Wolf was the heart of the TARDIS, technically. So as long as he took good care of the ship, he and Rose could have…
"Forever," she said, as if finishing his thought. He stared at her, feeling like if he moved; he'd wake up from a dream. "I told you forever, and I meant it." She leaned forward to kiss him again, and he let his lips linger longer than he should have, only realizing afterwards as he smacked his head somewhat violently with his palm-
"Your mum is going to absolutely kill me!"
