HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!
Soooooooooooooooooo this chapter is a week late.

Again.

Oooops…

Buuuuuuuuut to make up for that week lateness, I'll post a chapter tomorrow because there's no school.

ONLY 4 MORE SCHOOL DAYS UNTIL SUMMER OMGGGGGGGGGGGGG!

In summer I might go back to daily updates because I'll have so much spare time.

YAYYYYYYYYYY!

Rose's POV:

Is there a color darker than black?

Because my surroundings are that color. Darker than anything possible in life.

And it's not like a room either. I'm just floating through darker-than-black nothingness. There's no breeze, or air at all really. I feel like I should be sort of surprised at the fact that I'm not breathing, but I can't seem to muster up any strong emotion of any kind.

Is this death?

No silver gates or cloud palaces. No fires raging forever and anguished screams of tortured souls. No weighing of hearts or judging of deeds. Just floating through the dark.

Doctor's POV:

"So what do we do?" asks Tosh anxiously.

Jack called in the rest of the team, even though I don't really need any help. "Just stand over there," I instruct, gesturing vaguely towards the corner of the autopsy bay.

"No need to get snappy," Owen mutters as he follows the rest of Torchwood to the corner.

"Shut up, Owen. His girlfriend's dying," Gwen scolds. Owen rolls his eyes but doesn't retort.

I grasp Rose's cold hand and close my eyes. Focus.

The soft whirr of the many machines in the hub fades away. The gazes of the anxious team stop boring holes in my back. The feeling of my feet resting on the sturdy floor disappears, yet I'm not falling.

I open my eyes.

It's dark around me. Darker than anything even I have ever seen. Completely void of any color or light. It's like space with no stars.

I reach out my hand and realize it's glowing. My body, as far as I can tell, is made of tiny specs of golden light. I step forward and I can almost see the tiny lights in my leg echoing the movement. In fact, it's more like I'm invisible and the specs are following me.

I'm made of stars.

Golden stars.

Or not stars, more like… hm… how to describe it…

Then, I see her, and everything I'm thinking about washes away, leaving only her.

I'm here for you, Rose Tyler.

Rose's POV:

I have no idea how much time passes. I simply sit there, my legs drawn up to my chest and my head resting on my knees, waiting, though I don't know what I'm waiting for.

Then, it comes. What I'm waiting for.

A tiny bit of light penetrates my eyelids, which I realize are closed. I slowly look up.

There he is.

He's not completely solid. His body is made up of tiny dots of golden light, all flitting around, like celestial fireflies. He's standing up, or at least I think it's up (there isn't much of a difference here.)

"Doctor," I murmur in awe, "how did you…?"

"Take my hand, Rose Tyler."

His voice is so incredibly familiar that I want to cry. Why did I never notice how safe he makes me feel?

And so I take his glittering, celestial hand, which is surprisingly solid.

He leans over and whispers in my ear.

"Run."

And so we run.

Gwen's POV:

Though he's the one who's bringing back the dead, the Doctor is somehow the calmest person in the room.

He stands completely still, his eyes closed and his expression unreadable. His breaths are even and deep, almost as if he's asleep.

The rest of us are far from calm.

I can tell it's not just me who feels the suspense. Owen is leaning forward, as if he wants to leave his spot against the wall. Tosh holds him back, but I can see her shaking slightly. Ianto slides his hand into Jack's. I instinctively wrap my fingers around the gun in my back pocket, even though I know none of us are in danger. The entire hub seems to hold its breath, watching the girl on the table.

His hand begins to glow with a golden light. All of us, excluding Jack, glance at one another, as if to confirm the others were seeing the same.

Rose's POV:

We run and run, and I feel like I should be out of breath but then remember that I don't have any breath to start with. We run far, or at least I think it's far. For all I know, we could be running on invisible treadmills, seeing as our surroundings never change.

And then there's a light up ahead, and as we near it, I realize it's the Torchwood autopsy bay I died in, just floating in the blackness. And in that autopsy bay is a frozen tabloe of the Torchwood team, their expressions a mix of wonder and fear, all looking at a man holding the hand of a girl on a table.

We keep running, our hands still linked, and soon we're in the room.

He steps into the body of the still man.

I lie down on the table and become one with the girl.