AN: Well, here's the DREADED chapter! Didn't update last night as I had Becsy Lexi go through it. Will update in another 2 days, since I'm working and reading Harry Potter.

Dedication: For Alyssa (Becsy Lexi's bub), a constant amusement on MSN.

Chapter 4

A week after Dylans' birth a routine scan found another serious problem with the already frail newborn. A small blood clot was detected along with slight bleeding within the baby's skull. Pressure was building within his tiny head and daily spinal taps could control it, but he'd have to have a tube inserted into his brain to help him live completely. This could only be accomplished by drilling a hole into his skull.

While Rose was all for going with the operation, the Doctor wasn't. He didn't fully understand himself why he didn't want to give Dylan a second chance at living normally. Truth was, to him, living on a ventilator and having your brain fluid having to be constantly removed and without the prospect of ever living independently baffled him as a way of existence.

By this time Dylan was about twelve days old and needing two to three spinal taps each morning and afternoon and requiring twenty-four hour ventilation, his body was beginning to fail his own will.

While it was easy for the Doctor to let his rational side take a stand, it was hard to argue with Roses' motherly instinct. She wanted to know everything before there was no other option. She wanted to find that a slim chance did exist and could be given to Dylan at having a normal life.

Unlike other couples, they didn't argue, they took each others points and considered the results, but it didn't mean that they both had to agree.

Finally they were to meet with Dylans' doctors the next morning to discuss what further treatment Dylan would go through and if it would make a difference in Dylans' life.

-0-0-

In a quiet room people gathered to discuss Dylans' life and his best interests. The ones that gathered were his nurses', Julie, Linda and Daniell, his doctor, Dr Neilson, another doctor, Dr Kaner and Rose and the Doctor.

They were discussing whether they were sustaining Dylans' life or prolonging his death. Linda, the small Australian and one of Dylans' nurses', put forward that while treatment was optional maybe they should consider death as an option as well, and that it wasn't heartless to choose it for their son. Dr Neilson, on the other hand was rather adamant that Dylan could be saved and that the only real 'life threatening' part for Dylan was the brain-bleed. That if he could insert a shunt into Dylans' brain the other abnormality, his two hearts, could be taken care of and he could even donate the organ to a baby with heart disease.

One of the doctors, Dr Kaner, argued about the stress on the hearts, that as unique as it was, he was still only tiny and a heart removal transplant was even out of the question as they were certain he'd suffer cardiac arrest with only one. They argued over the surgeries and their own rate of success rates; that each had a high-percentage risk.

While the doctors argued over the surgeries, the three nurses focused solely on the issue of suffering. They reasoned that seeing how he struggled to breath and how fragile his hearts were, and that each operation should be seen as a mass of sapping sieges.

"Come off the bull-crap," snapped Dr Neilson, "you know we can save this child, you just don't want him to burden your workload any further!"

The Doctor was beginning to dislike this man with a passion now, sensing that he was more interested in using Dylan as an experiment rather than a living being. He leaned forward and stared at the young doctor.

"What would you do if Dylan was your own son?" he asked quietly, but his power was in the question. He wasn't a stupid person. "Would you put him through the same things?"

He was glad to see that Dr Neilsons' eyes went downwards and he looked and seemed uncomfortable with the close and personal question, but wasn't surprised that he declined to answer saying that it was not concerned with him of what he did with his own children.

"I thought as much," he murmured and leaned back, happy that he'd made a 'professional' uncomfortable with his own ethics.

The meeting went on for another half an hour, after which the two asked to be left alone for a few minutes to discuss their decision. They were guided into a side room, where they entered.

"We can take him and get someone to heal him, can't we?" Rose asked, looking at his own eyes for a hint of anything to save her child. "They have to have something that helps children like Dylan in the future?"

Refusing to meet her eyes now, he closed his own for a few brief seconds. But it told her all he needed to know.

"In about twenty to twenty-five years," he said, and for the first time his vice shook in front of her, "any baby that is born premature or is required to have any medical surgeries, apart from ones that have no chance of mental retardation, are left to die."

She looked at him horrified. "But what about the parents?"

He shrugged his eyes bright already. "Don't know, didn't stay to see the rest of that particular future."

"Is there any hope of having him normal," she asked, tears now starting to fall. "I mean, …"

"Rose," he said gently, "he's going to die, no matter what we do,… his physiology isn't made for two hearts, but if he had one, it'd still kill him."

Rose stilled, looking at him oddly, then her eyes lost her grief and was replaced with cold anger. "You knew this?" she questioned, her voice shaking but for an entirely different reason. "And when were you going to tell me?"

"I only just guessed it," he snapped. "I may be completely wrong, but his heart scans say 'yes'."

She broke eyes contact, seeing he was telling the truth, and that if he could save Dylan, he would, no questions asked.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled softly, and he gathered her in a tight hug, trying to hold himself together.

"Nothing to be sorry about," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

Ten minutes later the Doctor and Rose exited the side room, hand in hand, but hearts breaking.

"We've made our decision," Rose started, blinking back tears, "Dylans' not to have any more surgeries, he's suffered enough."

The nurses' nodded and Julie had tears in her eyes, knowing how hard this was for them all. With that they walked out, leaving only Dr Neilson and Kaner alone.

Neilson turned to Kaner, frustration on his features. "Don't they understand?" he said tersely. "We can save this kid; we only need to do a few more operations!"

Kaner waved him off, "they've already made their decision."

Neilson banged his fist on the oak table. "You don't withdraw anything with from a child with an isolated haemorrhage; it's only a grade three for crying out loud!" he shook his head, "their not strong with this."

The older doctor walked out, "As a friend of mine once said: 'Some people think its holding on that makes one strong. Sometimes, it's letting go'." He turned and looked at the younger red haired man. "Maybe it's them who are the strong ones Robert, not us."

-0-0-

It was Wednesday, two weeks since Dylan was born and the day before he would pass away. Rose had come alone from home, as the hospital had discharged her four days ago and she was at home, to be with her mother and amongst familiar surroundings. The Doctor had decided to stay with the TARDIS, mumbling quietly that it had to be checked on, as this was one of the longest times he'd been away from it. She really knew he was too grief stricken to even consider looking at his son, and realising that Dylans' time was limited until the next afternoon.

Sitting on a chair that seemed to want to swallow her, Rose watched as Julie ever-so-gently lifted Dylan from his little world, softly wrapped him in a green blanket and handed him to her. Rose looked at his tiny face, his eyes watching her intently and saw that some of the tape on his face, and some of the intravenous tubing had been removed from parts of his body.

For such the longest time she simply sat there and rocked him gently, not saying anything but looking at the half-sleepy eyes that seemed to be content with letting go.

Pulling some of the blanket from his face, she sighed. "I'm going to miss you, touching your cheek, seeing those huge yawns that you give daddy," she smiled slightly, "he's honestly not that boring. Don't think he's even spoken to you, has he?" she watched for something in his eyes, but he did nothing but stare back.

"We love you very much," she continued, noticing her voice was becoming shaky, "s'pose that's why we made that decision, really. I did try Dylan, I really did." She was crying now, now fully understanding her decision. "But there's nothing that we can do, you'd probably die more painfully than we'd know, and this is so hard to do, know that we will always love you."

Calming down, as it'd upset the other babies and then make her more hysterical, she simply sat there for half an hour, rocking her son, feeling his warmth and his newborn scent. Rose talked to him some more, and when she had nothing to say anymore, she simply just sang to him, lulling him into sleep, where she handed him back to Julie, and walked home, all the time in tears.

-0-0-

The Doctor had gone missing.

Rose had been searching him out for hours, unfortunately he was one of those people that when they didn't want to be found could simply disappear. The TARDIS was in a vacant parking spot, hidden from view and not too far from Roses' home, but far enough that it wasn't a danger of becoming a noticeable object.

She tried calling him on the mobile, he didn't answer. In other words he was in his ship, hiding and letting guilt overriding anything else. Knowing that he was in the TARDIS now she began to search him out, she walked amongst the many corridors, silently asking the ship to not play with switching the rooms around and to make it easier with finding the Doctor.

He was soon found in a room that she'd never seen before. It was full of broken machinery, robots and consoles that could be part of computers. The Doctor was sitting amongst a huge broken machine that looked beyond repair, wires strewn about and over his lap and using his sonic screwdriver and other recognisable tools to try and have progress with the thing. She didn't miss the beer bottle next to him.

"I thought you couldn't become drunk." Rose commented as he took a quick swig.

He didn't meet here eyes but it was obvious that he'd been crying, from the redness around his eyes were still noticeable, even his uneven breathing.

"Right on that account," he replied, swallowing down the lump that seemed to be lodge there, "I was just trying to get the taste of vomit out of my mouth."

Carefully stepping over the pieces of misshaped metal and discarded tools, and also making sure she didn't break anything to set him in a foul mood, which she doubted she could do at this moment in time, Rose knelt behind the Doctor and wrapped her arms around his neck gently. She laid her head on his shoulder, his jacket hanging somewhere within the room. He grasped her hand, feeling her breath on his beck and left ear.

"I did look for ways to help him," he began, his voice wavering and she could tell he was holding it in. "Last night, I went where I thought he could be taken, asked old friends for favours, three weeks out there, only twelve or so hours here. Some Time Lord I am can't even save my own child."

Rose wiped her eyes; already knowing nothing was going to help Dylan, no matter the time or universe. "At least you didn't give up," she whispered, kissing behind his ear, "you tried. That's not failure."

"To me, it is." He replied quietly.

-0-0-

Julie, Linda and Daniell had dressed Dylan in a lovely set of yellow pyjamas; Julie held him and looked at the two seated parents. "Do you want to hold him, Chris?"

Blinking rapidly, he shook his head, "I can't," he rasped, sounding on the verge of tears. Nodding in understanding, she instead handed the infant to his mother, who bit her bottom lip as she took him in her arms. With that the nurses began to dissemble the ventilator and other equipment that was keeping Dylan living, but kept the heart monitor on, but with the alarm on mute. It was 5pm, Thursday.

Sitting there and holding their baby while it slowly died was unbearable. Rose didn't say anything as she just rubbed Dylans' pale cheek and tummy with her shaking finger.

"He's got your nose," she murmured, tracing the outline of the infants' nose softly.

"And my ears," the Doctor replied and they both laughed quietly, Roses' sounding between a half-sob.

They were quiet for a long time, just taking in everything and anything they could of the little boy they'd never take home. They both so desperately wanted to take him with them. It was unfair.

"He'll be alright, yeah?" Rose asked finally.

The Doctor could only nod, unable to speak around the lump in his throat, and wiped unseen tears away with the heel of his hand. "Yeah, he … he will be."

With that Rose handed him Dylan. She showed him how to hold him, gently cradling his head in his huge hands, she could tell he was uncomfortable with this arrangement so she then put Dylan against the Doctors' chest, his tiny head sitting under the Doctors' chin, he also wore a blue baby's hat on keeping his downy head keeping him warm and comfortable. More relaxed with this, the Doctor leaned more backwards and began to gently rub Dylans' back.

He smiled a strange sort of smile. "What?" Rose asked.

"I can feel his hearts," he whispered. "Rapid and … fantastic."

Rose only smiled slightly, rubbing her sons' cheek, his eyes watching her face. "Fantastic."

"Yes," he murmured to himself, "this is right."

It was 8:07 when Dylan finally passed away; it was all over

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AN: Hoped you like it, now, let the angst begin! And special thanks to Becca for the last sentence structure.