A/N: Just a few notes. A thank you to all the wonderful reviews; you've really made my day, and it makes me want to keep writing. I'll admit, it is rather confusing: but then, the Doctor's world generally is, isn't it? Hope this is enough to satisfy :)

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Chapter III – Plain and Simple

"God, why's it always come down to death with you?"

Rose's voice echoed loudly around the TARDIS. It was no secret that she was upset. Which was ridiculous, really, as she hadn't known the new Doctor for very long. A matter of minutes, if that. But she liked him, and death always seemed so unnecessary.

"Circle of life, Rose," the Doctor answered simply. He was now making his own work of the controls, planning to take them away from London. Now wasn't the time. He needed somewhere they could all sit and talk, when pretty-boy woke up. Though, he thought painfully as the TARDIS began to fire up, he should probably stop thinking so viciously against him. After all, it was himself. Sort of.

"But... you said Time Lords can cheat death."

"They can."

"Then... why can't you two? And where are we going?"

He looked up. His face was plain, almost smiling.

"It's not the fact there's two Time Lords. Think about it in these sorts of terms: imagine we went back into your past, where you were a little child. Imagine if we took the younger you and the you you away, and started our own little piece of history. What then? I don't think it ends with happy, smiling dancing little girls, Rose."

"But..." Rose cast a look back at the sofa, where the second Doctor was still asleep. "You're different people."

"No. We look different. But we're the same."

After his fleeting second of attention, he had returned his concentration from the TARDIS. She may as well have been talking to a wall.

"You don't have to be so mean about it," she sulked. "All I'm asking is for another way."

"You don't even know him!" This was a sort of amused cry rather than a cry of outrage.

"Who says he's the one that has to... y'know...?"

The first Doctor still didn't look up.

"Because it's my TARDIS and I make the rules."

Rose mumbled something incoherent, and it made her turn away and sit next to the Doctor on the couch.

"What was that?" the First called out to her.

"I said it's his TARDIS too. You can't just decide to... kill someone. And I thought Time Lords couldn't die anyway."

There was a clatter and a tool fell to the floor. Rose looked up and was surprised to see the Doctor with his head down, arms resting on the controls.

"Doctor?"

She stood up and made her way to his side. He didn't look up when he spoke, even though her hand comforted his back slowly.

"Time Lords can die. I never told you they couldn't. In fact, you know they can." His voice was strained and suddenly very, very tired. "They die with all the pain and despair of their previous regenerations. They're gone, wiped from existence. Wiped from the memory of time, from the universe itself. And I'm the only one left, the only one who can deal with that. Not you, and certainly not him over there."

Rose lowered her face next to his, even though his arm was in the way.

"Are you all right?" she asked softly, more with wonder than worry. He shook his body, and Rose's hand fell away. Then he straightened up, sniffed, and gave her a smile.

"I'm fine. I've programmed a random course for the TARDIS," he said unemotionally. "It'll find somewhere deserted where we can – "

"You're not going to just leave him?" Rose cried, shocked, and looking back to the second Doctor. He looked at her sternly.

"Talk," he finished. The relief was clear on Rose's face. But it didn't stay for long. A strangled intake of breath came from the sofa, and she looked around. The second Doctor was drenched with sweat, and his eyes were shut tight as if he were having a nightmare. His entire body was shaking. Whatever was happening to him certainly can't have been doing him any good.

"Doctor!" she cried, rushing over to the second Doctor. She crouched next to the sofa and felt his forehead with her hand. His temperature was through the roof.

Unsure as to whom she was talking, the first Doctor turned away. He couldn't understand how she could be so attached to someone she didn't even know.

"He's burning up!" she cried. Her voice was strained.

"Shouldn't have been so stupid as to fall asleep, then, should he?" he said, almost laughing. He didn't know what told him to say that, or why he was reacting that way. But he didn't like him, and that was that.

Rose was muttering something about being useless before she really spoke to him again.

"What about your sonic screwdriver?"

"You think I'm wasting my screwdriver on him?" the Doctor mocked. Rose gave him a withering look. He was acting as immature as a four year old. But then again, he always had. "He can heal himself if he wants to. I'm not stopping him."

"You're not helping much, though."

"Not my problem."

Rose let out a cry of despair and anger, and stood up. She swung around to the first Doctor, her eyes ablaze with irritation. "I swear, if you start jumping around singing, 'La la I can't hear you', I am going to kill you!"

"Oh good," he said brightly, breaking into a grin. "Then I won't have to worry about how to solve our little duplicate problem, will I?"

Rose shook her head and literally bit her tongue. Somehow, swearing in front of an unconscious man seemed wrong. Especially as she would, technically, be insulting him. Thinking about it made her thoughts collide with one another in a confused lump, so she stopped trying. Instead, she remembered that the second Doctor had said that he had had a screwdriver as well... maybe there was one his jacket.

"Screwdriver," Rose said out loud as she picked the jacket up off the floor and began to search the contents. "Screwdriver, screwdriver..."

In the depth of one of the inside pockets, a hidden one sewn carefully in to the material, her hand tightened around something that felt like paper. She frowned, and though felt slightly guilty, pulled it out of the pocket.

The paper was card-like, but less stiff. It was textured and beige rather than the type of paper you put into a printer. It was folded over, but on one side, in large, beautiful curly letters, was written 'Rose'. The paper was somewhat crinkled, but she began to open it and smooth it out at the same time. She shouldn't feel guilty. It was, after all, for her. Wasn't it?

As she opened the paper out, she noted the peculiar but beautiful patterns that were punched in to the paper. She had never seen anything like it before. The writing was not difficult to read, but she wanted to look at the paper, first, rather than the writing. As if to savour it.

But carefully, she turned it over one last time, and read.

Dearest Rose. No, not dearest. That doesn't sound right.

Sweet Rose? Beautiful Rose? No, too corny. You'd never read any further and would probably jump out of the TARDIS. Not that I'd blame you.

I can't believe how much has gone on between us... No, definitely not, that's not right either.

We've been friends now for, oh, I don't know how long: probably a few months? Earth-wise, that is. (Anyway, seems longer to me).

It seemed to be a first draft. The rest of the letter was mostly unreadable, scribbled out and re-written and blotched with the black ink. But written near the bottom in tiny letters, more as a sort of self-memo than a letter, was the message.

Oh forget it. Look, Rose, I love you. Plain and Simple.

And that was it. That was all it said, in small letters. She probably would have missed it if she hadn't have been looking so closely. She let out a muffled cry as tears came to her eyes. She wasn't sure what to think. She could barely breathe. She kept a tight hold of the letter and stared at it. She felt like laughing and crying at the same time. Her surroundings seemed to blur around her; but that might have been the tears in her eyes.

She was suddenly aware of a presence at her side. The Doctor stood, and exhaled loudly. She jumped and got to her feet, momentarily forgetting all about the sonic screwdriver.

"What's that?" he asked, looking at the letter. But something told her he already knew.

"You don't know?"

He looked at her as if she'd just spontaneously turned into a rhino.

"I wouldn't ask if I knew, would I?"

Maybe, but he certainly seemed suddenly very interested.

"It's a letter," she said bluntly. His eyebrows rose. "I found it in your – his – jacket," she explained.

Was it just her, or did the Doctor shuffle nervously on his feet?

"Well, I hope it was a good read," he said. Then he suddenly turned and walked away, as if that were the end of the conversation.

"Doctor?" Rose asked, a little worried at his reaction.

"Hm?"

"Thanks. It was beautiful."

He looked at her, his eyes confused.

"What was beautiful?"

She held the letter up.

"Oh," he said flatly, his shoulders shrugging. "Then you might want to tell him so when he wakes up."

A lump appeared in her throat, and it was her turn to frown. She looked back at the slightly scruffy man on the couch.

"You mean... you didn't...?" She indicated to the letter again.

"Not me," he said, shaking his head. And then he turned back to the TARDIS controls and pulled a lever. That was that, he thought as it sprang alive again. Her reaction. It wasn't bad, he thought. Not really. But he'd never again be so stupid as to leave letters lying around.

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It was dark. That was his first impression. Very dark. But then, perhaps that was because his eyes were closed. Very slowly, the Doctor opened his eyes. The eerie blue light of the TARDIS flooded his vision, but it comforted him nonetheless. He felt weak. There was sweat at the back of his neck and on his forehead, and he'd fallen into an awkward position on the sofa. He blinked slowly, screwing up his eyes, then ran his tongue through his mouth. Still different. He coughed, if only to make sure his breathing passage was still clear.

"Wakey-wakey sleepy head," sang a familiar voice. It was mocking, and he groaned. Apparently, it had not been a dream. He began to sit up, shaking away the awkward feeling of too much sleep.

"Haven't you given up yet?" he asked, already feeling a little better. No matter how many times he did it, he would never be able to get used to this regenerating thing. It was always so different.

"On what?"

"On pretending to be me." He stood. Uneasily, albeit, but at least he was up. Rose appeared from nowhere, though he assumed she had come out of one of the back rooms of the TARDIS.

"He's not pretending," she said softly, and put a hand on his arm. "And you need to sit down."

He obeyed, and she sat next to him. She had in her hand a cold, damp cloth, and when she put it to his forehead he felt soothed immediately. He almost closed his eyes. But he kept his eyes on her.

"Don't tell me you believe him," he groaned. His voice was a little choked. "He could be dangerous." Then, after a pause, "I'm sorry. I can't believe I collapsed. Can you forgive me?"

Rose was looking almost through him rather than at him, so her answer was distant. "'Course. But you've been out for a few hours now and he hasn't tried to hurt me. We've... talked."

"A few hours?"

Rose nodded.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I shouldn't have – I was regenerating."

"I know. He explained."

"Oh he did, did he?" The second Doctor leaned forward to look for the First. "Where is he? He'd better not have touched the TARDIS."

Rose laughed. Always so protective.

"He said something about a time blip, and that the vortex created a sort of... alternate reality, almost. But a mixed one. So now there's two of you, Doctor, at different stages of regeneration."

"Hrm," the second Doctor said, his eyes brightening. He stuck a tongue in his cheek as he thought. Then suddenly, without warning, he stood up. "Interesting." He chewed his tongue, and then swung around to Rose on the couch. He pulled her up by her hands and looked directly at her eyes. "But you believe that I'm the Doctor, right?" he asked. His voice wasn't urgent or pressing; he was just curious.

"I kinda have to, don't I?" she asked, stepping slightly away from him. "You two have that same goofy look in your eye."

He frowned, but she could tell that underneath his furrowed brow he was amused.

"Goofy? Don't tell me I'm goofy this time around. I'm not sure if I could live with myself."

"You've always been a little goofy, Doctor," Rose laughed, shaking her head as she did so. Her blonde hair fell around her shoulders as she did so, framing her face perfectly. The second Doctor smiled, though he was not exactly sure why.

"Saved our lives, though," he said cheerfully. Their eyes met. "The goofiness, I mean."

Rose laughed again. It was a real giggle, a schoolgirl laugh, and he liked it. It was a laugh that he knew only he could make her do.

"I see he's fully awake, then."

Oh yes, and him. Rose turned to look at the first Doctor, who had appeared from behind the controls. His voice was flat and without emotion. Then he started walking towards the door of the TARDIS. Slowly, he opened it, popped his head out, pulled it back in, and then shut the door again.

"We can talk here, for now."

But no one seemed to want to start the talking. There was so much and yet so little hanging in the air.

"Er... maybe we should sit..." Rose said slowly, backing away to the sofa and doing so herself. The First followed suit, but not before glancing at the Second. His mouth tightened.

"Come on then, pretty-boy," he said coldly. "Time to talk."

The second Doctor's face broke into the biggest grin Rose had ever seen; bigger than the one he'd shown when they had first met. His eyes began to shine.

"Awww, I'm pretty?" he asked ecstatically, before taking a seat on the other side of Rose.

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Outside, on the dusty, old, deserted planet, something watched as the strange blue box appeared from nowhere. Its mechanical crunching sound echoed around the Blue Desert as it materialised. The something watched as the light on top flashed once, twice, three times and then no more. It didn't know what it was. But it knew it was dangerous. Instantly, it began to burrow deep down into the centre of the planet to its superiors. The coming danger was here.