THE FAMILY OF BLOOD

Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews of last chapter. I have to apologise for the delay in this second part. I was somewhat distracted by the launch of the Deathly Hallows. Plus, this chapter could have gone so many ways, I wanted to sit on all the ideas for a little while, picking one that would leave Rose and the Doctor in a good place, and hopefully, a realistic one. I hope you enjoy it, because I certainly have.

"Have you enjoyed it, Doctor?" Baines asked in a sneering voice. "Being human? Has it taught you wonderful things, are you better, richer, wiser?" he fired.

Smith was looking in distress to Rose. Rose wanted to scream at them, he doesn't know! The watch, he needed the watch!

But what good would the watch do now? She was too late! Open the watch, the Doctor would return, and they'd still have him - either way, she had failed to protect him.

No. She couldn't give up. There had to be some other way.

"Mother of mine," Baines nodded across the room to Joan, a grin worming its way onto his face. "Kill her."

Think, Rose, think, she clenched her eyes shut. It was difficult concentrating on the present, with a gun sticking into her chin and the command to kill hanging in the air. Despite it not being her first time at gunpoint, Rose still had to overcome the fear, punctuated by the knowledge that the Doctor could not get her out of it this time.

"Shall I pull the trigger, Mr Smith?" Joan hissed, her arm tightening around Rose's shoulders, the gun steadying as if to reaffirm that they were serious. A tiny part of Rose's mind began to wonder if they really were serious; they appeared to be stalling.

There was a subtle warmth, and a rapid shudder, almost a rumbling, against Rose's collarbone. Rose's eyes snapped open, fearing that the Joan-alien had felt it, too, but the woman holding her appeared to be focused elsewhere.

Rose looked up to John Smith. His brows were about as crossed as she'd ever seen them, eyes wide, shining with confused, frustrated tears. He was shaking his head, muttering softly 'no'.

"Perhaps if the human heart breaks, the Time Lord will emerge?" Baines sneered across the room.

The rumbling against her chest intensified at this. Rose felt her hairs on her arms and at the back of her neck stand on end; the warmth was charged, almost electric…like a pocket-sized oncoming storm.

Wondering where such an absurd thought had come from, Rose burst out laughing. The sound pealed and echoed around the village hall.

Evidently, no one had been expecting that sort of reaction from anyone in the room, particularly from the girl with the gun muzzle nestled against her jaw. Everyone jumped, almost in unison, at Rose's laughter.

The easing of the tension, and the chemicals the laughter had fired in Rose, gave her confidence; the lapse in concentration it caused in everyone else gave her time.

Time and Distraction, she thought to herself, as she acted on it.

She grabbed Joan's wrist holding the gun at her neck, and twisted it, kicking back with her heel into the woman's knee. The gun fired as Joan's finger slipped; a blast of green flew past Rose's eyes and hit the roof. As Joan fell forward, pulled off balance, landing on her hands and knees in front of her, Rose looked, somewhat bewildered, at the gun now in her hand.

She noticed Smith, paces away, startle again at the blast, leaping forward.

"I'm all right, I'm all right," Rose held her hand up to him, to stop him, her eyes flickering between Smith and the Family to make sure none of them were making a move.

Smith faltered, but stayed where he was.

She had held up the hand that was holding the gun, quite by accident, to stop him. Smith wasn't looking at her, now; he was watching her hand, and the green and metal blaster in it. Rose also looked at her hand, dumbly, for a moment, before a mad thought sparked in her mind, one that might get them out of this mess alive, if she was quick.

Rose steadied her hand, and aimed the gun straight at Smith.

She looked away, almost instantly, back to the Family. Smith's reaction near made Rose burst into tears; confusion, topped by what looked like, in that quick glance, betrayal. Joan was still on the floor, glaring up at her, unblinking. Baines was breathing heavily, eyes flicking between Smith and Rose, as though suddenly, very nervous, but trying not to show it.

The watch burned against her now. Protect the Doctor. Her heart hammered. Protect him, at all costs. What was she doing?

"I…uh," she stammered, as her voice, and hand, shook. The little brat in the pink coat scowled at her, as Baines' evil leer steadied itself on Rose.

"Would you really pull the trigger?" Baines realigned his gun, pointing it at Rose, now. "Shoot down your precious Doctor? Too scared!" he barked.

An angry ball of fire caught alight in Rose's belly and she shook her head. Tears caught in her eyes, and on the edges of her thoughts, she struggled to hold them back.

"Yeah, but, he's not the Doctor, is he?" Rose explained simply, narrowing her eyes and shaking her head, as though it should have been obvious to Baines and the Family. "He's human. He's John Smith, just like he says he is. You'll get nothing from him."

Rose steeled herself, inwardly begging for strength as the Family waited, calculating, Baines' trigger finger twitching. Rose tried not to notice it, and forced her gaze to lock onto Baines' alien eyes instead.

"Only I hold the power of a Time Lord," she raised her eyebrows, wishing the tears on the brink would go away and stop clouding her vision. She barked a laugh at the stupidity of her plan; this was never going to work. Smith jumped again, in her peripheral. She made sure she didn't look at him; one more look from him would have surely unhinged her.

Mr Clarke was glaring, calculating. "The girl is bluffing. She is no Time Lord—"

"Do it, then!" Rose cried out, cutting him off and wanting to kick herself. A part of her was screaming, begging her to stop, but something intense and primeval kept her fighting. Not all was lost. The fob watch burned brightly, encouragingly. She held onto its warmth, like a guiding light.

"Shoot me!" she dared Baines. The alien-boy faltered. "Pull the trigger and I'll pull mine! Do it!" she called, nodding at Baines. "Smith and I die together, now!" a couple of tears fell over, trailing a path down her cheeks. She ignored them. "Then what'll happen to you?" she finished, pulling her trump. The Family were desperate to live. They would not kill either of them, she knew this for a fact, if they thought it would destroy their one chance at obtaining immortality.

Rose could hear a ticking sound, as she waited, her hand steady, aimed at Smith. It reminded her of a time bomb, but was really just the white clock hanging above the stage in the hall, oblivious to the intensity of the moment as it calmly counted down the seconds.

She stared Baines down, forcing herself not to blink, or smile, or show any emotion. The tears dried on her cheeks as her resolve steadied. She could do this. She could win this.

Baines finally moved; he cocked his head, very slightly. He sniffed, closing his eyes; a long, drawn out, rasping sound. Then he lowered his gun.

Rose breathed again, then nodded to Baines' gun hand with a sideways glance at Smith. "Mr Smith? Take it from him," she said quickly.

Smith blinked, mouth opening in a stutter. "I-"

"Just - do it," she commanded evenly, cutting him off and sent him a hurried, pleading look.

With a confused pause, Smith obliged, moving forward and taking the gun from Baines' out-stretched palm. Baines' lips were tightly pressed together and his eyes were wide. Rose thought his head might explode, or implode; he didn't appear to have taken a breath for a while.

"Right," Rose turned her gun, to point at Baines, now. "Everyone out of here!" she raised her voice.

The silent crowd didn't need to be told twice. It was like watching an hourglass; the sand grains all fighting for the same exit point at once.

Rose breathed again, more steadily, flicking Smith another glance. He was holding the gun, aiming it at Baines, watching Rose for orders.

The fear in his eyes was muted, she noticed in that second, by something else. Not pride; no, that was what the Doctor would have shown, maybe explaining why the fob watch against her chest was burning so brightly now. Perhaps a confused sort of wonder? Well, who could blame him – the little girl he'd known all his life (apparently) was talking like the futuristic woman from his dreams. And she'd just won. Rose wasn't half surprised at herself either.

"You too, Mr Smith, out you go," Rose pulled her eyes away from him, and focussed on the Family once more.

"But, but what about you-?"

"Trust me!" she cut him off.

She could feel his pleading eyes on her, trying to draw her to look at him. She held Baines' gaze. The skin at the corner of the alien boy's eyes twitched. She sighed, shakily, when Smith left the room.

He had left her. She reminded herself, again, that Smith was not the Doctor. The fob watch shuddered briefly, still burning brightly. No. He hadn't left her.

"Get up," Rose ordered Joan, who'd not moved from the floor, glaring balefully up at Rose the whole time.

Joan got to her feet slowly, a mutinous look on her face, and joined her family.

Rose began to back away, toward the exit, gun still raised.

"Where's Nurse Redfern, then?" she nodded to the alien that had taken her form.

"She's consumed," Joan raised her eyebrows, smirking; again, this was an expression that didn't suit her face.

Rose nodded, swallowing, trying to keep her voice steady and not think of Joan, the poor, kind widow who'd been her advisor and secret guide. She'd helped Rose, more than Joan could ever have known. Now she would never know how much Rose had valued her.

"She's dead?" Rose asked simply.

"Of course," the Joan-alien suddenly seemed to be enjoying herself, taking small steps toward Rose. The rest of the Family moved forward with her.

Rose continued her own backward movement, nearer the exit all the time. What was it with some of these aliens, taking bodies and using the empty shells? Didn't they think about the person with the real life that they were stealing?

A coarse, floppy sort of arm flung itself around Rose's shoulders, and she screamed, grabbed the arm and struggled toward the exit in a great rush of adrenalin.

"Get the gun!" Baines ordered.

Everything and everyone moved at once. Rose gripped the gun in one hand as the thing struggled with her, trying to take it off her. She grabbed the arm of the scarecrow in the other hand, and twisted around then ran for it, bumping into the side of the door and not turning to investigate the 'riiiiiip!' sound that allowed her to move more freely again.

She dashed down the path outside, as the now one-armed scarecrow, and the Family, hurried after her.

Smith was standing at the end of the path, looking like a lost lamb.

Rose didn't slow down, noticing him standing there, though her heart sang at the sight of him. He didn't leave!

She threw down the floppy scarecrow arm at the gate way, and grabbed his hand instead as she rounded the corner of the path, onto the main road. His hand was warm, and enclosed her palm and fingers like a favourite glove.

"Run!" she cried.

Smith didn't protest, or start firing the questions he looked like he so wanted to ask.

They just ran.

The school had been the closest place to run to. They'd bolted the doors, and Rose had leant against the inside, out of breath, as Smith had continued forward, purpose clouding his usually unfailing manners.

He'd woken the school and called them to arms, insisting that they were under attack.

Rose had tried to stop him, but the students woke quickly and acted even quicker; like seasoned army troops, rather than schoolboys. The headmaster had woken, angry, and tried to diffuse the situation, but Smith had convinced him there was an enemy at the gates.

Rose hadn't been able to get a word in. She tried to pull Smith aside, but he had shrugged her off and stepped past hurriedly, issuing orders and commands to the boys to obstruct entrances and load weapons.

The headmaster had seemed even less interested in Rose's opinion on the situation, pushing her away and insisting that she barricade herself in the library until the matter was dealt with by the men.

Rose bristled, charging in the direction she'd last seen Smith run off in. Why wasn't anyone listening to her, she thought in frustration?

It was time to open the watch, she decided. Nobody would ignore the Doctor.

She just had to get Smith alone for two seconds and make him flip the lid. Then the Doctor would be back. He'd diffuse the situation. Nobody else would get hurt.

The watch pulsed lightly, and a part of Rose's mind, that sounded very like the Doctor, warned her, it's not safe yet.

Like hell it wasn't. They needed the Doctor, now, before more people got killed.

Smith had disappeared. Rose had begun to wonder how one man could hide himself so well inside a school, hurrying down a hallway.

Beware!

The Doctor's voice whispered into her mind, the fob watch flaring. It had felt like the whisper had come from just over her shoulder…she could almost feel a trace of his breath on her neck as the hairs there stood on end.

Rose gasped, abruptly stopping. She pulled the chain out, bringing the TARDIS key and the fob watch with it.

She ran her fingers over the watch, in confusion as it pulsed against her touch. Had it just…spoken to her? It had been reacting to her all night, but had it actually spoken-?

"Who are you?" a child's voice called.

Rose, forcing her gaze to lift from the watch, turned slowly. "What?"

The little girl in the pink coat was standing at the end of the hallway, still holding that red balloon, looking like something out of a bad horror film.

"Who are you?" she repeated, in the same, calculating, yet accusatory tone. "Who are you, really?"

Rose raised an eyebrow. "Like I'm gonna tell you anything," she scoffed.

"What are you hiding?" the girl ordered quickly, volume increasing. "What have you got there?"

Rose followed the little girl's gaze, to her hands – the watch. How had she realised the watch had something to do with it?

"Show me, little girl," the child at the end of the hallway simpered.

"Who you calling little girl?" Rose gripped the fob watch in her hand, turning fully to face her. She knew this little girl.

Cartwright. That was her name, before the alien had stolen her life. Lucy Cartwright.

"You're the child now. You picked a little girl, called Lucy Cartwright, to host your mind, you great alien git," Rose glared. "A child, who was completely defenceless," Rose grated. "You coward!"

"Show me what you have in your hand!" the alien-Lucy screamed.

"Right," Rose nodded, squaring herself, holding the watch forward. "You wanna see it? Here!"

Rose opened the fob watch, and a golden light rushed forward, spilling toward the little girl at the end of the hallway. A ringing, almost shrieking sound filled the passage. Rose felt fragments of the light fly back toward her, encircling her, warming her and giving her strength. Caught fragments of the Doctor, rushing into her mind, flickering images of the enemies he'd crushed in the past, of the fighting he'd done, with fragments of the Time War surging around her like floodwater. Rose shuddered, but forced herself to keep watching Lucy, and ignore the images, and the coldness in his eyes.

Lucy, at the end of the hallway, looked stunned; her eyes widened.

She turned and ran.

Rose closed the pocket watch regretfully, then slowly re-hung the chain around her neck, wondering if she should have opened it at all. The Family would know where the Time Lord was hiding, now. They'd not think twice again about killing her, once Lucy got back to them and relayed the truth.

It was really time to end this, Rose pushed herself, continuing down the school hallway.

She found him, finally, between rooms, and by the look of him, between thoughts.

"Rose, it's not safe here," he said in a rush, catching her shoulders in both hands. "Aldridge!" he called to a boy running past them with a rifle. "To the gates, they know the drill!" he pointed beyond.

"Yes, sir!" the boy continued past.

Rose shook her head at Smith, as he looked back down to her. His eyes seemed to soften.

"Please, go, Rose, I don't know what I'd do if you were—"

"When are you gonna get it through your thick skull?" Rose cut him off quietly, shaking her head, and tapping his forehead.

He blinked in a somewhat confused way.

"I'm never gonna leave you," she insisted, promising, smiling.

Smith looked incredulous a moment, and Rose knew he was remembering his dreams. She'd read about them, briefly, in his Journal of Impossible Things. The Rose in his dreams, who refused to leave him. And now, the scene at the dance, where she'd so plainly revealed that she knew what Baines had been talking about and seeking, pointing a gun at him with a steady hand.

The confusion in his features must have meant a part of him still wanted to believe in the contrived Rose Tyler, and not the girl from the future who travelled to amazing places with the dream version of himself who somehow had two hearts. Talk about stubbornly human.

Before he could respond, or insist she leave again, Rose pulled the chain up from around her neck and offered the pocket watch to him on her palm.

"Open it," she whispered, smiling encouragingly.

Smith's eyes were cautious as he beheld the watch, faltering a little as recognition flared. Oh yes, she knew he'd recognise this watch now, after tonight. He'd told her that he'd dreamed of it, and his dreams were becoming real all at once.

"Why?" he spoke finally, his voice thick with emotion.

"Because it's the real you!" she cried quickly, exasperated.

The light in John Smith's eyes fogged and twisted, as he shifted his gaze from the watch, to Rose's face.

"I cannot pretend I understand what's happening here," he shook his head, his grip on her shoulders tightening. "But how can you think for a moment that I'm not real?" he looked wounded.

What? Rose looked to the ceiling in frustration, so she didn't have to look into those eyes, so full of devoted anguish. "Will you just trust me? It'll all make sense if you just-"

She was cut off, when his lips met hers. He kissed her, pressing against her urgently, his hands gripping her shoulders only just a little too tightly, as though trying to reaffirm in both their minds that he was a real, living, breathing, proper human being.

Rose was caught in his intensity for a moment. The fob watch must have fallen out of her hands, because the noise it made when it clattered against the flagstones brought her back to reality. She pulled away quickly, looking down immediately to find the watch.

"Is that a lie?" he choked.

"No!" Rose cried, shaking her head, distracted, speaking quickly as she ducked down to retrieve the watch. It was by his left foot. "But you're not John Smith, you're the—" she stood up, the watch clasped safely in her hand once more.

"The Doctor?" Smith's voice hardened, and Rose stared up at him helplessly.

"He…he sounds like, like some romantic, lost prince," Smith shook his head, his eyes still showing signs of desperation. "Would you rather that, to live in a fairy tale?" he spat the last words out.

Rose closed her eyes. Why was he doing this? Didn't he recognise the watch, didn't he want to come back? Why was he ignoring everything that had happened earlier that night?

"Am I not enough for you, as I am?" he pleaded, grabbing both of her hands and squeezing them.

She forced her eyes open. Took a deep breath. Smith was crouched down slightly, so they were looking straight at each other. It was so confusing, having the Doctor, usually so in control, begging her for answers, demanding she believe in him, when he didn't have a clue what was going on.

"That's not fair," she frowned, disentangling one of her hands, and raising it to cup his face. There were tiny pricks of day-old stubble on his jaw and she ran her thumb over his cheek. It was very strange. The Doctor was always clean-shaven.

"You promised me, as the Doctor," she stressed quietly. "You…" she swallowed as her voice suddenly crackled and fled. To reject him, when he looked and sometimes acted exactly like him. When he openly loved her, in this form.

"None of this was meant to happen. You were never meant to..." she couldn't finish the sentence, and shrugged a little, trying to force herself to make him see reason, unable to tell him that he was never supposed to fall for her, when she'd childishly wanted it to happen when he was himself. Her hand fell away. "Three months, you promised," she appealed, changing tact. "Three months of hiding, and then we'd go back to normal."

Smith's eyes widened slightly as he let her other hand go. Rose subconsciously arched forward, yearning for his touch now it was gone. His hands hovered, for a moment, before falling resolutely to his side.

"What is normal to you?" he shook his head, almost accusing.

"Please, open the watch," Rose implored.

He took a step backward, his eyes never leaving her face, then shook his head.

"If my dreams are true," he breathed slowly. "Than my whole life is a lie. And you! Who are you? You frighten me, seeing you like this. You aren't-"

"But I'm Rose!" she insisted, stepping forward to close the gap, again offering the watch. She wanted to cry again, but made herself talk instead. "I'm still your Rose! I always will be!"

Before he could respond, there was a call from one of the adjoining rooms.

"Sir, please!"

Smith's head turned, then his gaze fell from the direction of the cry, back to Rose and the watch. "There are people out there who need me. Not this fabled Doctor," he spat, then marched out toward the gates.

Rose wanted to scream, looking to the roof again for help, then back to the fob watch. It was cold, and she cupped it, closing her eyes, wondering if it meant they'd both become angry with her.

"But I need you."

The night had gone from abysmally bad to, somehow, worse. The headmaster had been killed by Lucy Cartwright, who blasted him without a second thought. Rose had hurried outside, as the green beam had hit him in the chest, the silent scream leaving burn marks in the air with his shape as dust spilled onto the packed earth, littered with gunned-down scarecrow remains.

"Put down your guns," Smith had said urgently. Rose had stayed in the doorway, warmth rushing through her at these words from him. She wanted to run out and hug him.

One of the boys had tried to protest, but Smith had been insistent. And, as Baines had entered the gates, firing into the air, and Lucy had turned to face Rose in the doorway, everyone had started running again.

Through the school. Out through the kitchens. Smith herded them all, hurrying, unbolting, shouting orders to them about where to go and who to alert.

"Come on!" he had finally pushed her out the back door, bolting it behind him once the students had all gone ahead. He then turned, and with a nod after the retreating, scattering students, he'd run as well.

Rose pushed herself off the stone wall she'd been flung against, picking up her skirts and hastening after him.

She had to convince him to open the watch, she thought madly, ignoring the branches and brambles that cut into her legs and tore at the trailing white and lavender folds of her once-fine dress. The Doctor obviously hadn't realised that the human him might put up such a fight, when asked to turn back. Otherwise he would not have left the decision up to Smith, and Smith alone, would he?

"Doctor!" a low call rang through the woods, tauntingly. "Doctor!"

Smith slowed, peering around some trees, holding his hand up to stop her. Rose was still running at full pelt, and grabbed onto his upraised arm to stop herself, bumping into him, and they fell into the leaves littering the woodland floor.

Rose hissed a 'Sorry!' and stayed crouched down, shuffling forward and poking her head around the low-lying branches, flat on her stomach. A cold chill from the earth began to seep through her clothes. Smith shuffled next to her, also watching the front of the school.

"Come back, Doctor," Mr Clarke was calling from the courtyard, standing in front of—

Rose's heart froze, and it had nothing to do with the chill temperature, or the distance Smith was keeping from her since they'd spoken in the hallway.

The Family had found the TARDIS. Mr Clarke was standing in front of it, with a squad of scarecrows behind him.

"Come home!" Clarke teased. "Come and claim your prize!"

Three shadows moved toward the blue box and its guards; stepping into the light. The other three members of the Family emerged, their heads turning, watching, for signs of movement around them. Rose tried to stay very still. Smith was breathing loudly next to her, his eyes locked onto the TARDIS in disbelief.

"Out you come, Doctor," Baines called out in a sing-song voice. "Come to the Family."

"Time to end this silly game," Joan's voice cried out into the night.

Rose couldn't watch them any longer. She turned away from the TARDIS. She would be safe, she tried to convince herself; they couldn't harm her no matter how hard they wanted to. She was only bait, Rose thought sickeningly.

She'd turned to Smith, and wondered if this other vision of his dreams, the 'funny little blue box', would be enough to convince him to open the watch.

"It's the TARDIS," Rose tried to speak calmly, but her voice shook. "That's her name," she explained.

Smith's head turned quickly to her, his eyes full of horror, full of tears. Rose put a hand on his back, trying to comfort him.

"I'm not—" he uttered, turning back to face the TARDIS, shaking his head, choked up. The tears in eyes pooled in front of his distress. "But I'm John Smith!"

"But you're not-"

"I am," he insisted in a hush desperately. "That's all I want to be, John Smith, with his life, and his job," he gazed up at her, looking lost. "And his love."

Rose tried to ignore this, rubbing his back a little. "But, right now, we need the Doctor. Can't you see that?" she nodded back to the Family, standing guard around their home, calling out taunts and hitting the TARDIS now and then with their guns and sticks.

"Who am I then?" he choked. "Nothing! I'm just a story."

"Scarecrows, to the hunt!"

Rose heard Baines' call in the back of her mind, and did a double take as she saw the few scarecrows surrounding the TARDIS had been joined by many, many more. They were hobbling off, lurching in all directions, some headed straight for them.

"Oh my god, move!" Rose scurried to her feet, gripping the back of Smith's coat and dragging him up with her.

Where to run to? Usually, they'd head for the TARDIS, but that wasn't a very clever idea at the moment. Rose flicked a glance over her shoulder as they ran, yet again, for their lives.

Somehow, Rose's legs lead her to the pub. It was the only place she could think of that might not be guarded; undoubtedly, the abandoned shed they had hidden the TARDIS in would be crawling with scarecrows, in case they tried to go back and didn't realise the Family had the TARDIS.

Rose ran around the side of the pub, into the warehouse at the back and crouched behind some empty kegs.

"What do we do now?" Smith whispered, crouching next to her.

Rose bit her tongue. She'd nearly snapped 'so, you're listening to me now?' at him. It wouldn't be fair. She'd promised the Doctor she'd protect him, and yelling at the fear-filled and confused Smith would not do either of them any good.

She gripped the watch tightly, just once, and felt the smallest of warm shudders from it in response. She held it out to him again.

"Please, just hold it," she spoke quietly. "It's the only way to end this."

Smith visibly retracted again, his lips tightening. Rose could tell he didn't want to continue discussing it, but they had no choice.

"I know...from your dreams," Rose started slowly, more to fill the silent void. "That he seems scary. Like a...a storm."

"Stop it," Smith snapped in a whisper.

"And he is, sometimes," Rose continued, ignoring him. "All wild energy, tossing everything in his path around, like a gust of wind. But, it's amazing. He's amazing," she closed her eyes and smiled, remembering her Doctor, tears rising to the surface again. He had to be difficult, didn't he? Had to make it difficult for her.

"Stop it, I said stop it," Smith hurried, a more desperate edge to his voice now.

Rose forced her eyes open. "I won't stop it, John. The Doctor is amazing, and I-"

BOOM!

A white flash blinded her, as the resounding BOOM shook her bones.

"Get down!"

Smith, despite his previous desperation and apparent frustration, leaped forward, pushing Rose down, his body arched protectively over her.

The stars cleared, and Rose could see again. Smith was staring down at her, his face inches from hers, his eyes wide with recognition, with grief, and again with disbelief.

"You remember this, don't you?" Rose unwittingly recalled the last blast he'd shielded her from; when they'd blown up a science lab to try destroy Lazarus.

Smith opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

There was another flash of white, another resonating BOOM that shook everything, and Smith crouched down again over Rose.

"They'll destroy the village!" Smith called over the sound. They stayed down until the world darkened and stilled, once more. Smith recovered, and he leaped to his feet, peering around the empty kegs, a bit of straw in his hair.

Rose scrambled to her feet, and before John could protest, closed his fingers over the watch and cupped his fist with both her hands, hoping.

"The watch, Doctor. You need to open it."

"It's asleep," he hissed, distracted by the bombs falling around the village.

Rose's attention was caught a moment as what looked like a large meteor fell from the sky, and another blast rocked the earth. It seemed further away than the previous two blasts. Then Smith's words sunk in; it's asleep. She gripped her hands, tighter around his, feeling his fingers close around the watch more securely between them.

"It's been speaking to me," she whispered, not wanting to talk too quickly, in case he pulled back and started protesting again.

Smith nodded knowingly. "Low level telepathic field," he was still watching the skies, ducking as another 'meteor' fell, this time closer than before. "Down!" he yelled, and both he and Rose again dove for the straw-covered ground of the warehouse. Their hands fell apart.

When Rose had dusted herself off this time, she looked up to see Smith, on one knee, staring at the watch in his hands, frozen; as though it had grabbed his attention as he'd been getting to his feet. The war zone outside the warehouse seemed forgotten.

"I…" he suddenly looked up, very quickly, to Rose. "I…know how it works," he sounded scared.

Rose nodded, very slightly, too afraid to speak, move, anything. Please, just open it, she thought desperately.

Another echoing BOOM sounded, but this time neither Rose nor Smith seemed to notice it.

Smith stared back down at the watch cupped in his hands. "So, I'm…going to die?" he said, with some difficulty, not looking at Rose as he spoke.

Rose remained still, a lump in her throat. In a sense, she guessed he was right. Smith's life here in 1913 wouldn't continue.

Smith clenched his eyes, then stood shakily, as another, further blast shook the warehouse lightly.

"And…you, you're his...my, friend?" he flashed her quick glance, his lip quivering. "You'll stay with me?"

Rose nodded, trying to smile, but unable to. "Always."

"Does he…" Smith looked between the watch and Rose. "Does he love you?" he asked quickly, worry etched in his brow.

Rose tried again, unsuccessfully to smile, as the lump in her throat got larger. She exhaled quickly, a small, nervous laugh escaping. "I dunno!"

Smith's eyes watered. "How could-?"

"It's complicated," Rose shrugged quickly, evasively.

Another bright flash, another BOOM, this time very close.

Smith crouched down again and Rose ducked, both startled by proximity of the blast.

When the shock wave had stopped shaking the ground, Rose looked back up to him, grabbing his hand. She could feel the watch, burning brightly through it, and wondered why he was still waiting?

"We need him," she explained seriously, nodding to the chaos outside. "I need him," she closed her eyes, not trusting herself to look at him as she said it. "He's…he's everything to me. He's all I've got left."

When she opened her eyes, Smith was still staring back at her. The watch warmed her and smoothed out the crease of worry etched in her brow; she felt her whole face relax in that moment.

His eyes were warmer now, no longer so scared. Rose wondered if he was receiving the same energy from the watch that she was? Or if he felt something else?

"I love you," he declared in a whisper, his free hand cupping the back of her neck. "Don't you ever forget that, Rose Tyler."

Rose closed her eyes, wanting to laugh, and cry, all at once. She felt his lips press against her forehead, briefly, and knew at once that this was John Smith, the human who loved her, saying goodbye.

When she felt him shift back, she opened her eyes.

He opened the watch, and the warehouse filled with a warming, golden light.

The Doctor had known what to do, almost immediately, a queer coldness overcoming his features.

"Wait here," he hadn't even looked at her, as he'd stood and closed the pocket watch, his eyes on the meteor bombs raining down on the village.

Rose had, for the first time since he had ever asked her, stayed behind and waited. She watched him leave, suddenly afraid, feeling weak and tired, as though all the blood and energy had drained out of her. She sat against one of the empty kegs, leaning her head against it, holding her knees, closing her eyes and trying to focus on one thought; there were a thousand of them, flitting about like tiny, slippery silver fish. He was back. Smith, and his love for her, was as good as dead. Could he stop the Family? Was he mad at her for how she'd treated Smith? Would he leave her behind?

She didn't have long to dwell on the fragments of thought, tearing at her sanity. Not long after the Doctor's departure, there was a final, shuddering blast, quite different from the other blasts; one that carried the screech of twisting metal with it, echoing throughout the village.

Rose opened her eyes and got to her feet. She tried to dust herself off. White and lavender shreds of material, stained with earth and blood hung at her knees. Her legs and arms were scratched, dried drips of blood trailing darkly down the exposed skin. She pushed her hair back, feeling grime, sweat, tears, and more blood.

She stepped out of the warehouse, and headed back to the school, to where she'd last seen the TARDIS.

The Doctor's cold mood hadn't improved as he'd returned to the TARDIS, almost ten minutes after Rose had settled into her favourite seat, too tired to move and dress her wounds or get changed. He was leading the defeated Family, their mutinous faces covered in soot, their eyes cold and frightened. Rose thought she felt the TARDIS hum in approval as he entered.

With a sideways flicker of acknowledgement to Rose, he'd then turned back to the Family. Stood, watching them silently, as they lined up in front of him. His hands were behind his back, and he paced a little. Rose watched as though experiencing a dream, like she wasn't really there, and it wasn't really him pacing his console room again.

He had been silent, as he'd dealt out justice to the Family. Mr Clarke had been bound in unbreakable chains; Joan had been pushed into the event horizon of a collapsing galaxy. Lucy had been trapped in every mirror, to hide eternally in the corner of people's eyes. And Baines; finally, had been tied to a cross, in a field.

Rose had watched, from a distance, just outside the TARDIS doors, as the Doctor had slipped a Hessian sack over the head of the stasis form of Jeremy Baines, transforming him into a scarecrow that looked just like his prior straw-made soldiers.

They would live forever, now, just as they had always wanted to.

Once the Family had been taken care of, the Doctor returned to the TARDIS. Rose stood, arms crossed, watching him carefully. He looked tired. The storm had raged and broken and all that was left was a little rain.

He smiled shortly up at her as he climbed the hill.

"It's done."

Rose nodded, swaying a little and feeling cold. There was a mist hanging in the air, as though it wanted to rain, but drops of water couldn't form.

"So," he regarded the earth between them for a moment, then clapped his hands. The sudden noise startled Rose.

"Onward and upward?" he asked quickly, nodding toward the TARDIS' open doors.

Rose nodded dumbly again, not trusting herself to speak without her voice shaking and breaking. Moving on, she thought to herself.

Be happy, she prompted herself. It's finally over, she reminded herself. Just like you wanted it to be. What did you expect to happen?

At least he wanted to keep travelling with her, and for that, Rose felt relief. But there was a guilt there, overhanging the relief like a dark shadow, as Rose wondered how they were going to move forward from his time as a human, when he had loved her unashamedly, and she had used him, and even encouraged him, knowing it could never last.

She closed her eyes, trying to refocus, and turned back to the TARDIS. She knew the Doctor; he wouldn't want to dwell on what had passed, it wasn't his style.

But she couldn't stop the question.

"Where's John?" she asked, her voice carrying an embarrassing waver as she regarded a spot of mud on the TARDIS' door.

She heard him take a couple of steps closer, the grass and gravel crunching almost silently.

"He's in here. Somewhere," he spoke calmly, in a soft tone.

Rose turned her head back to him quickly, her eyes full of fear. He was watching her, a small, considerate smile on his face, his hands in his pockets.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, closing her eyes, and spoke hesitantly. "Do…you remember-?"

"Yes," he cut her off.

"Everything?" she opened her eyes and locked his gaze.

"Yeap," he was nodding, swaying on his heels a little, his brown eyes deep with memories. "You all right?"

Rose nodded with some difficulty, and turned back, taking a step into the TARDIS. "Yeah," she lied.

"Rose?" the Doctor called hurriedly.

She turned around, leaning a hand on the TARDIS' door frame. Her legs felt a little shaky, so she was grateful for the support from the beloved blue box.

"I…" he blinked, them smiled, calm again. "I never said thank you. For looking after me."

Rose shook her head, a laugh bubbling to the surface. "I nearly got us both killed, I pointed a gun at you - I was rubbish-!"

"No, no you weren't," the Doctor cut her off and strolled forward again, stopping at the base of the TARDIS. Rose looked down at him from the landing. He had that cheeky glint in his eyes, the corner of his mouth raised in a smirk. A look she'd not seen for months. Her heart leaped as she again realised just how much she had missed him, how happy she was to have him back.

"You were perfect," his grin expanded.

Rose felt her face go hot, and looked down. Perfect?

"Doctor, I don't know if you remember," she spoke hurriedly, "But you didn't want to change. Back from being Smith," she looked up and saw him nodding, his grin quelling until his mouth was a straight line. She continued with hesitance. "Do you remember? Everything you said, while you were him?"

The Doctor put a hand on Rose's shoulder, in a more comradely way than Smith had, the previous night. "I remember, Rose. Everything that John Smith was – is me, as well."

"But you were so different-"

"Oh, I dunno," he cut her off quietly. "We're not all that different," he paused, a meaningful, and again cheeky glint in his eyes. "Both devilishly charming," his eyes continued to sparkle, not a trace of regret to be found.

His face changed before Rose could respond.

"Except for the bow ties. What was he thinking?" he pondered, crossing his brows. "Very un-cool."

Rose laughed, the warmth of his words lightening her mind, though a part of her still ached. "I was sure you'd be mad at me," she shook her head. "For letting you – him, I mean...you know. When it could never..."

Could it? Her mind conjured a memory of them, what must have been months earlier, on a bed in Elizabethan London, sharing a kiss. He'd been himself, then, and he hadn't fled, had he?

She left it at that, though. She knew how much she meant to the Doctor. And what she left unsaid hung in the air between them, crackling, charged like lightening. The Doctor finally gave her shoulder a quick squeeze, then dashed past her, into the TARDIS.

"Where do you fancy?" he called out behind him, reaching the console and flicking a couple of switches. The TARDIS responded immediately.

Rose closed the door, still laughing at his frenzied energy, that she'd missed so much. She stepped across the TARDIS to her seat, flopping down onto it and crossing her feet on the console.

"Oh, I dunno," she threw her hands up. "Surprise me," she grinned.

The Doctor mirrored her grin, leaning over the console. And there it was – pride – the pride she'd never seen in Smith's eyes, sparkling in the Doctor's so fiercely.

He, the Doctor, was proud of her. And the part of him that belonged to John Smith? That part of him loved her.

"I love you. Don't you ever forget that, Rose Tyler."

She wouldn't. She didn't think she could forget John Smith, even if she'd wanted to. But she didn't want to, she realised. John Smith, despite any flaws, had been brave; so brave. He had chosen to die, for everybody, when he hadn't understood what he was dying for. And she loved him back for it.

"Well," the Doctor considered, unaware of Rose's realisations, moving to his monitor and swinging it to face him. "We've done scarecrows, we've done tin men-"

Rose shuddered at the thought of Cybermen, but was amazed to discover the memory no longer burned her as much. No tears.

"- but we haven't done," he tapped some keys, eyes on the monitor, then flicked a lever with a flourish, and strolled over to where Rose was sitting, "cowardly lions," he smirked.

Rose raised her eyebrows at him. "Planet of the Cowardly Lions?"- was he serious?

"Yeap," he nodded, the glint in his eyes telling her there was – of course - more to it than that.

"Rubbish," she shook her head, laughing. "How can there be a whole planet of cowardly lions?"

"Oh, it's not just lions," the Doctor cut in knowingly, leaning against the console now, hands in his pockets. "There's also tigers, and bears," he raised his eyebrows quickly, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Rose stared at him, unimpressed. "Oh my," she answered dryly.

The Doctor jumped into action, grinning again and turning back to the console.

Rose laughed softly. He was mad. Their lives, were mad. And she loved it.

Despite all the scarecrows, tin men and chaos they had met, there really was no place like home.

…the next episode is Blink…