A/N: Set during Bad Wolf part one, so obviously spoilers.
Disclaimer: Don't own it. If I did, Christopher Eccleston would not be leaving...::sniff::
I don't normally write this kind of fic, so I'm not sure how it'll turn out...
He'd agonised over it.
For the first time since God knew how long, he'd been dwelling on something other than the demise of the Time Lords. On having lost everyone and everything he loved.
But it had still been caused by a Dalek.
How ironic. One line, spoken from a robotic, compassionless machine had thrown him into turmoil. Had messed up his thoughts, caused him to doubt his own feelings. To begin to wonder what feelings even were.
He'd worked it through with logic.
Love? He wasn't sure what it felt like. His first interpretation of the Dalek's words had been the human kind. The all-consuming, deep love. The man for a woman love.
But he'd worked it through.
He wasn't supposed to feel that kind of love. Not for Rose. Not for a human - a companion. So he'd analysed the situation. While she'd slept he'd used his mathematical mind to logically solve the puzzle.
And he'd come to a conclusion: platonic love.
Because that was right, that was proper and that was what it should be.
Platonic, he'd reminded himself sternly, each time he took her hand.
Companionable love, he'd warned, when he felt his two hearts flip at one of her smiles.
Best friends, he'd struggled to remember, each time he held her close.
Brotherly concern, he'd whispered fiercely, trying to counter the rising jealousy, as she had walked off with Mickey.
But now, as he stood staring at the screen, he couldn't keep it up.
This wasn't an innocent, platonic love. The relief he felt at seeing her alive went deeper than realising that his best friend was safe.
And she was his best friend, his companion - but she was more besides. So much more. He could travel anywhere in the universe, but it meant nothing without her. Without watching her reactions, seeing her smile and making her laugh, it didn't mean a thing.
She had been his reason. He'd kept going, found that he could enjoy life again. That he could laugh, smile, joke – because of her. He'd been in hell, but she had brought him back, brought him out.
And he had nearly lost her. Again.
For the dark moments when he had believed her gone, he'd died inside. The emptiness returned. He had frozen – an empty shell with nothing. Alone. And he was pretty sure that simple, platonic love wouldn't have done that to him.
And once again, all his pain and all his suffering had been caused by the Daleks.
A tin can kept managing to turn him inside out.
He'd sacrificed his people to stop them, and they still came back. Still came back to kill Rose.
But she wasn't dead.
She was alive. Still trusting him; still his Rose. Still perfect and beautiful and bravely prepared to sacrifice herself.
He just needed to get to her.
And he would.
Because death was more welcome than having to face the universe without her.
No matter what, he was going to get her.
Not sure it worked, but it had to be done.