DISCLAIMER: I asked for the Doctor for my birthday, but the BBC and The Moff said no. So I asked for the TARDIS… I got a cookie jar… shaped like the TARDIS. Better than nothing I guess! So no I don't own Doctor Who but I still have hopes that someone somewhere will see the massive error in this.

Regardless.

SUMMARY: The Doctor is being stalked through his own timeline. Nothing and nowhere is safe.

A/N: I watched the Doctor Who movie again as I was writing this one. Paul McGann would be lovely to see again, and considering he said he'd be happy to be in the 50th anniversary episode... Well, I just know that it'll be magnificent whatever they do... I hope.

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Eye of Orion. 74th Century.

He'd been called home.

Romana was good at hiding things from him, but the stress in her voice was unmistakeable. And that worried him.

Something was coming. Something that would shake the foundations of the universe, no matter the outcome.

"You should go, you know."

"Yes. But I really don't want to." The Doctor kept his gaze trained on the night sky, watching streaks of light leave ghostly trails in their wake. "I missed you."

Rose cocked an eyebrow at the daft alien she loved more than life, and wagged a finger in his face. "You were supposed to forget, mister."

"Oh, I did. For a long time." The grin in his voice was plain. "There was a bit of… trouble... with this regeneration. Slightly more psychic that my other lives." He reached out to grasp her hand and pulled her flush to him. Rose gasped at the raw strength and possession he exuded. "But forget you? Forever? Not happening, my dear."

Rose smirked and ran a hand up the lapels of his velvet jacket, losing herself for a bit in his blue-green gaze. "Still the same Doctor," she murmured before brushing the curls from his face, stroking the cheek and cupping his neck.

They stood quitely for a moment just absorbing each other presence.

"After you left, I met your Doctor."

Rose jerked back, eyes wide and shock evident. She hadn't seen that coming! And… did he sound jealous? Of himself? Well, that wasn't too hard to see, especially since her spikey-haired, brown-eyed Doctor always got into a pout whenever she mentioned "Ol' Big Ears", as the Doctor dubbed his previous form.

"How…" She swallowed around a dry lump in her throat. "How was he?"

"Simply manic."

The grin that follwed the statement, soft and lovely, lifted a weight off her shoulders. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sniffed back a few tears. "I miss you, so so much."

His arms tightened around her, a fresh round of sobs breaking through. "How long…?" How long had he been without her, had she been without him?

"Far too long." She dried her face, then, "Way too long," and dragged him down to her, pressing their lips together is a fierce snog.

Hands and arms, lips and tongues, cries of frustration that quickly melted to completion as their passion filled the air.

Later, he held her close, her head curled up on his chest with one hand placed gently between his hearts. They were thumping madly, betraying his cool demeanor. Rose took it as a matter of pride that she could make the great Doctor lose control like that.

"I'll have to forget the most wonderful thing in my life. This. Here, now. With you. And it's not fair." He rolled to his side, propping his head on his hand. "And for how long?" He stroked the back of his hand down her cheek, softly caressing her jaw, then down to the top of her breast, feeling her warmth and softness. "I love you and I don't even know your name."

Rose swore she'd felt her heart stop at those whispered words and couldn't have prevent herself from responding had the world disintegrated around them. "I love you, too."

He closed his eyes as if savoring the way the words wrapped around his hearts, his mind, his soul, before sighing and resting his forehead on hers. "I've been called home." This time, her heart did stop. Pure, unadulterated fear ripped into her as her grip banded like steel on his wrists.

"You know what's coming, don't you?"

She could only nod, clenching her eyes shut and trying to breathe around the scream building in her throat.

"How bad?"

Rose shook her head. "I can't…"

"I know, darling, I know." He pressed a kiss to her temple, then tilted her chin up to encourage her to look at him.

Golden swirls danced in her eyes, making her tears glow brilliantly. "This time, you need to go. It's almost time."

The couple parted, dressed, then moved hand-in-hand toward the TARDIS parked nearby under a tree. Rose stopped him a few feet away, holding his hand and stroking the skin over the knuckles.

"Doctor. I can't tell you it'll be easy. It won't be. Do what you think is right. And be safe. Please. Be safe."

The Doctor watched her. This beautiful creature, full of enough power to rip Time apart at the seams, loved him. And now she was begging him to be safe? Dread rippled down his spine and he pulled her close again, cupping her cheek to draw her gaze to his.

"I promise. Besides, I have to find you again, don't I?" His soft, bright smile belied the tension that had started building.

She returned his smile with a soft, "Yeah. Yeah ya do."

He forgot again. A little too well.

The Doctor returned to Gallifrey, but not to become Lord President again – Romana was doing a splendid job, and why would he want a job that would keep him chained to home? – instead he fought.

He watched his friends and family die.

He watched Pan Gallifreya fall.

Then, he watch Galllifrey burn.

Romana was right. Only he could have use The Moment, initiated the Time Lock, destroyed his people, his home, everything. Only his TARDIS, the last Type 40 TARDIS in existence could handle, manipulate, and channel the surge of power released when the Eye of Harmony erupted with the destruction of the Untempered Schism.

The screams of his people rang in his mind, begging, pleading, cursing, weeping. He could have sworn he heard Romana's voice, ringing loudest for a split second. "Thank you. My friend." And then she was gone.

His mind was on fire. Blood vessels burst in his eyes from the force of his screams against such unimaginable pain.

The TARDIS was rocked with explosions, the largest of which caught him in the back and threw him into the wall. Blessed darkness then.

He should have died. He wanted to die. But a sweet, musical voice whispered in his ear, in perfect Gallifreyan, "Live, Doctor. Live," and the fires of regeneration engulfed him. He tried to stop it, he really really did, but he'd been injured so much already, his control was shot. He could only lay there, waiting for it to end.

The TARDIS has been damaged so much, it took almost all of Her power just to materialize. Somewheresafesomewheresafe. Her own internal systems were damaged beyond the Doctor's ability to repair. Her pilot's humans would help. They had to!

The Doctor woke to his precious ship burning and smoking and sparking. She'd landed. Only one way to find out where.

He pulled himself up, barely holding onto consciousness, and dragged himself to the door. Oh, you fantastic thing, you! The one person he could trust.

His voice locked in his throat for a moment after he opened his new mouth. Still weird. The strength it took to croak out, "Alistair," and the shock of such a deep Northern burr coming from his new self was the last straw. Blackness finally took him away.

I hate that such a sweet incarnation had to love through that, but then 9 would've never come about... It's almost enough to make you wanna cry sometimes...