A/N: Extra long chapter because... well, it's the penultimate one. And because it just didn't seem to stop anywhere. I, personally, didn't like that last chapter much, so it was a great surprise to actually find some reviews on it xD Thank you, so much you lovely lovely people. This is pretty much the end of the story. The last chapter will be the tie-ups, but... well, you'll see. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did :)

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Chapter IX – Keep Breathing

It didn't take them long to find that the corridor opened into rooms. Masses and masses of rooms. They were running, now, the Doctor following purely on instinct. The fun that had started out as making this an adventure had long evaporated. They were jogging, Rose already feeling a sweat begin to burn on her forehead. Damn this Doctor, didn't he ever get tired?

They didn't stop at cries of surprised outrage from other prisoners and workers whom they passed. No hands were fast enough to catch them, and on the one time they were, the Doctor pointed the gun menacingly at the perpetrator until they let Rose go.

Through rooms they went, all seemingly identical, with corridors branching off from them every couple of metres. The pair ran in pretty much a straight line, throwing open door after door to find yet more rooms. This was becoming hopeless. The subtle approach had been abandoned in the first room where, surrounded by fierce looking wardens, the Doctor had aimed the gun at the ceiling, fired, grabbed Rose by the hand, and the two had legged it as fast as they could across the room. They were still running.

At least twice the two had to pause whilst the Doctor dug around in the pockets of his brown coat, searching for his credit card that would open the less easily accessed areas.

"What's the plan, Doctor?" Rose had panted as they were running through the fifth room. The Doctor hadn't answered; and Rose had assumed that this was because of the din around them. But in truth, he had no idea. He didn't know what to do, where he was going, why he was doing it or how they were going to escape. God knew where the TARDIS was. Hell, he couldn't even find this mystical 'Room' with their last companion in it. The Doctor wondered what he must have gone through. A room of fear... he wondered about what he would find frightening. What would break his hearts, his mind and his soul. No, it couldn't bear thinking about. So, he pushed on, relentless and refusing to think of anything apart from the pounding of his feet on the floor and the blood in his ears.

And so it went on. Room after room after surprised room, and still no luck. They were running out of time. They couldn't keep running forever - sooner or later, they would get caught, and the Doctor could already begin to feel that Rose was tiring. Her broken breathing told him that, at the least.

But at last, they seemed to be in luck.

The two had burst into a room, panting with exhaustion, and instantly the Doctor noticed this room was different. A bench stuck out from two of the walls, running all the way up the sides. The room was empty, save for a door at the end with two reptilian-looking soldiers standing beside it. They didn't even react to the intrusion. They just stood still, like statues.

The Doctor pulled Rose into the room and shut the door behind them. This had been one of the rooms that had needed the card to access it, and though it probably wouldn't supply them with that much time, it was better than nothing. Rose had begun to wander over to the lizard guards, standing solitary and still. It was almost as if they weren't even alive.

"Rose," the Doctor warned cautiously, his voice almost a growl. "Be careful. You don't know what's going on around here."

"Bit rich coming from you," she retorted, turning. She stood and looked at him for a second, panting. "You coming, or what?"

The Doctor stood, mouth open, head moving all around the room, as if giving his eyes a break from having to move.

"I think this is it," he said absently to the ceiling. "I can feel something here. Something powerful."

"Well, c'mon then," Rose pestered, marching back to him and taking his wrist. "Point and shoot already."

The Doctor shrugged and walked straight up to the guards in front of the door. They didn't even protest as he went to put his hand on the door handle, though he didn't turn it. He was keeping his eyes on the guards intently.

"What's wrong with them?" Rose asked cautiously form behind him.

"Hypnotised," the Doctor said, his lips thinning. The poor things; what on Earth - if that was appropriate - was going on around here? Nothing made sense or added up. "Can't even tell what's real and what's not anymore. Good for us, but... I don't think I can save them."

He felt a soft hand on the top of his arm, and turned to see Rose looking at him.

"You can't save everyone, Doctor," she said in a voice that was only just more than a whisper. He smiled at her gently as their eyes met.

"No," he admitted quietly. "But it's nice to know it's not impossible."

They looked at each other for a second more. Rose held her breath and took her arm away from the Doctor's shoulder as he turned and tightened his hand on the handle.

"Ready?" he asked.

"As ever," Rose replied.

The Doctor found that he was holding his breath as he turned the handle and pushed open the door.

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He wasn't sure how long he'd sat there. He didn't even care. Crying - that was new. Usually, he would just bottle it all up; maybe he'd shed a tear or two if it built up and became too much for his little hearts to endure, but other than that, he remained solitary and cold on the outside as if he were made of metal. Armour. That's what it had been. Protection from the world outside: don't let anything in, don't let anything get to you, and there's no need to worry about the aftermath.

But the problem was, something had got to him. Or, more accurately, someone. A little human ape. That was all. A random string of DNA and protein, strung together to make a nineteen year old being. Okay, so it was a little more complicated than that, but in essence, that was all it was. That was all she was. Yet she had awoken parts of him that he had thought long dead. He thought those parts had died along with Gallifrey and his other Time Lords in the Time War. His only other companions.

When he'd started out, he supposed he would pick some other travellers. He didn't think they would have been form Earth, though. And he didn't think that he would end up falling in love. She was more than just a companion. Jack had been a companion. Adam had been a companion. But Rose was more than that, and she knew it. Had known it. So why the bloody hell had she jumped?

The frightening thought tore through him like a bolt of lightning. He had let her down. He had done something wrong, not fulfilled his promise. He had forgotten her, somehow. He had broken her heart and in return, she had broken his. In that moment when she had given up on their life together, he may as well have been the one who was strapped to the end of that cord. His life was over anyway. He couldn't bear to keep breathing if it meant that every breath was a breath without her to share it with. How could he face the world now? How he could he keep moving, keep breathing; what was there to keep his hearts beating? Nothing.

The only other time he had felt like this was when he was forced with the realisation that Gallifrey would never come back. Once, he had been able to cope with. Realising that he was alone was all right to deal with the one time. Okay, so a little part of him had died with his home planet. But with Rose gone, his Rose, it wasn't just a little part of him that went with her. It was his whole God damn soul. How could she not have known? How could she not have known, for crying out loud, how much he felt for her? How every single day, ever single hour, no less, he had to constantly remind himself that he was beneath her. He didn't want to believe that he had found the... what was it the Earthlings called it? The love of his life? Because she was. She really and truly was. She was the reason he woke up in the morning, the reason he couldn't sleep when he wanted to, the reason his hearts had beat that little bit faster when she had taken his hand in hers. When she had trusted him with her life. Her life that was now no more. All because of him.

He'd killed her. How many times was that now? Three? Four? Only, this time, she wasn't coming back. She had gone to the only place that he couldn't follow and bring her back from. No cheesy grin and light-hearted attempt at a 'quick fix' would ever bring her back.

His body was exhausted. His lungs couldn't cope to do anything but breathe, not after the strenuous shouting he had done in his mourning. His eyes stung with raw fire as he sat in the corner of the dreary prison room. He was in the corner, his knees up to his chin, his arms draped tiredly over his knees as his chest rose and fell with every breath. He wasn't quite sure how or when he'd been moved here. He had been so delirious with grief, he supposed that he had been picked up by a couple of the wardens and thrown in here, a hopeless case. He wasn't even trying to escape now. What was the point? Let them have the bloody TARDIS, he didn't deserve it anyway. The last ship of the Time Lords, his legacy. It was theirs if they wanted it. As he'd asked, what was the point? There was no point. He couldn't stand, physically or metaphorically, and face days and days of rescue and triumph when he was so internally broken.

The creature in the chair had been right. He was the bringer of Death. Wherever he went, he always ended up hurting someone or something, and messing in the Laws of Time. Well, not anymore. He was retired. He'd just be a prisoner. If he could stand it. He had put on a big show of what was right and moral, but it had all been an act, hadn't it? He didn't know the answer any more than anybody else. And what if he was wrong? What if what was 'meant to happen' had nothing to do with him? The universe was ever-changing, after all.

The Doctor suddenly thought of Rose's mother, Jackie. She would have to know. He would have to tell her. But what could he say? It wasn't as if he could just pop up in the middle of London and stick a note under her door saying, 'Sorry, I've killed your daughter. She died because she thought I'd abandoned her. Sorry for the inconvenience - I'll find you another one', was it? Perhaps it was better she never found out. It would hurt less that way.

He groaned as his head slumped forward, a headache pounding through his temples like a herd of stampeding elephants. There were too many questions and thoughts in his mind to make sense of. All he knew was that he was numb. He had cried and cried and shouted and yelled until there was no more will for it. So, for the last hour or two, he had sat, alone and in silence with only his thoughts for company. His lonely little thoughts. God he missed her. He always would. That break in his heart never would heal, would it? It would always be there, a constant reminder that he had failed in his last duty. He had never even told her. He had never said those three little words which could change his life. All because he had convinced himself that he didn't believe it. But he did believe it. He believed it with all his hearts, and now it had come back to kick him when he was down.

It had all been a waste of time, hadn't it? Yes, he'd saved planets with her. Yes, she'd saved planets with him. Yes, he had shown her just a tiny fraction of the world he lived in. And she had loved every minute of it. But now, she was gone. All his fault. He was all alone, again, and nothing could ever bring him back from it.

The Doctor shifted slightly on the floor. It was getting uncomfortable, sitting like this. But he didn't care. All he knew was that at the first opportunity, he would challenge anyone who came near him in the hope that they gave him the death penalty. He'd never wished for death before. He, the Doctor, the Bringer of Death and the Oncoming Storm. He wanted to end it all. And soon, he thought as he leant his head back against the wall and closed his eyes with exhaustion – soon, he would.

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"What do you think you're doing?" the secretary had cried at the sight of the Doctor and his little companion in the doorway.

"It's quite clear what I'm doing," the Doctor had replied, marching forward, bringing up the gun and putting his finger to the trigger all in one elegant movement. The barrel was pointed towards the secretary who had only just stood up from her desk. "I'm invading."

The secretary had frozen. Her hands were on the desk as if she were stuck to it. Her shoulders rose and fell with breathing, but other than that, she was still. Her eyes were on the gun and there was terror in her pupils.

"You'll never get away with this," she had said.

The Doctor had leaned forward menacingly, his eyes narrowing.

"Oh, won't I?"

That had been a few minutes ago. Rose wasn't really sure how they had lost the upper hand since then. Well, actually, perhaps she was. The secretary had started rabbitting on about rules and regulations as the Doctor had stalked forward and attempted to open the door on the other side of the room. It didn't budge. In the meantime, whilst he was distracted for two seconds checking the handle, she had called security and a horrible, deafening alarm had rung out everywhere. It was like one of those fire alarms that Rose remembered from school, only louder and shriller and much more deafening for the brain, as if it had found a way to transmit itself from actually inside her head. Rose had had to slam her hands to her ears as the alarm sounded out right above their heads. The Doctor seemed strangely unaffected.

"That was a mistake," the Doctor growled, pointing the gun back at the secretary, who promptly cowered behind her desk.

"There's no use," she stuttered. "They'll be here any minute. I can't let you go through this door and you can't hurt me."

"Do you really want to be testing that theory right now?" the Doctor challenged, edging the gun closer to the secretary. She flinched. The Doctor felt Rose's hand on his arm and he looked at her. His eyes alone told her what she wanted to know – that he was not going to shoot.

"You've made it this far, but your little act of rebellion has already cost you your lives," the secretary sneered bravely. "This whole room will be filled with security faster than you could run away. You've lost. You'll be taken away and dealt with and then there'll be no need to – "

The secretary didn't even see it coming. One minute she was standing defiantly towards the Doctor with a gleam in her eye and her fists tightened. The next she stumbling backwards before falling into a state of unconsciousness.

"God she was annoying," Rose complained, flicking her hand in pain. She had just punched the secretary full on in the face. She didn't know what made her do it. She had just felt this sudden need to clench her fist and punch outwards.

The Doctor looked at her in surprise. Then his face cracked into a huge smile.

"Rose Tyler, you are one in a million," he said, laughing. "What did you do that for?"

"Shut her up, didn't it?" Rose reasoned. "Besides, I knew you'd be too much of a gentleman to hit a woman. She was asking for it."

The were a fierce knock at the door behind them.

"This is security," a voice bellowed from the other side. "We heard there was an emergency. Please open this door."

The Doctor swore, causing Rose to look at him incredulously. He gave up on trying to fight the door handle open, took a step back, and kicked his leg out. Hard. The door flung open as shards of wood shattered away from it. Rose was shocked.

"Doctor..." she said in amazement.

"No time to marvel now, Rose," he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her through.

They were in another corridor. But this was more like the type of corridor you would find in a castle; dank stones with slimy moss lined the way straight ahead of them as far as they could see. Their feet were pounding on the floor and Rose's hair was bouncing as they ran. Set into the walls, just like all the other corridors they had been through, were doors. Thick, heavy iron doors, with bars across a slab to see through at eye line.

They panted their way past what must have been at least twenty of these doors before Rose spoke.

"What we lookin' for?" she asked as they ran.

"Our friend," came the reply. The Doctor had been glancing into each of the rooms as they ran; though how he had time to see if the first Doctor was in there, Rose didn't know.

"You're sure he's here?"

"I'm not sure of anything anymore," the Doctor muttered under his breath.

They were reaching the end of the straight corridor and followed it as it veered violently to the right. It forked off to the left as well, and how the Doctor knew where he was going was a complete mystery. Rose skidded on the floor, but managed to keep her balance as the Doctor pulled her round and they kept running. There was a crash from somewhere behind them; security had managed to burst through the door. It wouldn't be long until they were on them. On and on they went, the corridors continuously splitting and splitting further until it was impossible to tell where they had come from. Rose only hoped that they had lost the guards in this warren of corridors. Cell after cell they passed, all of them identically bland and empty. And still the pair ran on, deeper and deeper into the maze.

"What is this place?" Rose asked. The Doctor laughed inwardly; she had a knack for asking questions at the wrong time.

"More prisons," he answered, casting a glance back at her. "He must be here somewhere. All these rooms, all of them are empty, except for him. Just think of it as one big – "

He cut himself off and skidded to a halt. Rose careered into him, but he caught her in his arms and swung her in front of him, seemingly by instinct. His face was frowning and his eyes looked as though he wasn't really concentrating on what was going on around them.

The din of the alarm system rang out down the corridor around them as the Doctor thought.

"One big what, Doctor?" Rose asked, looking up into his face.

His features creased into a further, thoughtful frown.

"Puzzle..." he finished quietly.

"What do you mean?" Rose pleaded, her voice with panic. She tugged at his arm and they started to run again.

"Of course!" he shouted, seemingly not talking to anyone. "Oh, why didn't I think of it before? That's what's been bothering me! I knew something wasn't right from the moment we stepped out of the TARDIS."

"What?" she asked over the noise as they ran still harder. She wasn't sure how close security were behind them, but she didn't really want to find out.

"This whole place is one big riddle, Rose," he replied with triumph as he turned to look at her. "One colossal simulation. An immense trap for the mind."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that, if I'm right, we just have to find the answer and we're out of here. Back on the TARDIS and home free – so to speak. It all points to the same thing. We've been trapped in this simulation for, oh, I don't know, since I tried to take you back to London, maybe? I wondered why it was so easy and why the touchdown was so light. How everything's been an illusion and how nothing makes sense. Everyone's story is different." The Doctor grinned at his companion as he pulled her closer to him as he ran. "It's one big riddle, Rose!"

Rose swore if they'd have been anywhere else, he would have punched at the ceiling and cackled with delight. But as it happens, they ran on and on instead, this time, the Doctor not even pausing to check the rooms.

Rose's energy was beginning to wane. Her muscles were beginning to ache and she had a stitch in her side. As if sensing this, the Doctor suddenly stopped, slowing Rose down behind him. She was panting.

"What is it?" she asked, her breath heavy. "And what're we supposed to do about this 'simulation'?"

He looked at her seriously, his face suddenly void of obvious emotion.

"Like all good, clichéd riddles, there's only one way out of this. There must be a control room around here somewhere, not far off. It'll be the computer system for this entire base. Find that, Rose, and we can get home. There should be a button that if we press at the right time should break us free of this prison."

Rose looked at him confused, sucking in cool breaths of air. She could begin to hear voices and pounding footsteps behind them, and fear was rising in her heart.

"Right," she said. "So, how do we find it?"

"One thing at a time," the Doctor replied, shaking his head to and fro. "We have to rescue our friend first."

Rose's face fell; it would be impossible to find him in this maze, especially as people who wanted to recapture them were chasing them. The entire thing was like a cat-and-mouse game.

The Doctor read her expression as if she were an open book.

"Oh, don't be like that," he said sympathetically. "I know you're tired. But really, it's quite easy. I've already found him."

"Yeah?" Rose's eyes were alight with hope.

"Yeah," the Doctor confirmed with a grin. He jerked his head towards the cell they were standing outside of. "He's in here."

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The alarm system had been set off. At first, the Doctor wasn't sure if it was just the din inside of his head leaking out or the real thing. But after a few seconds' intense concentration, he realised that someone must have escaped. He groaned as he realised it must be his counterpart. Stupid idiot – didn't he know it was all over? Was he looking for him? For a way to escape? Was he looking for Rose?

Too many questions filled his head as the horribly loud sound began to engulf him. He shut his eyes, if only to try and drown out the pain. That stupid bloody idiot. Why couldn't he just leave well enough alone? It was his fault. If he hadn't've wanted to explore this stupid planet in the first place, none of this would have happened and Rose... Rose would still be alive. He wouldn't have killed her. Again.

The thoughts began to whirr around his head again as the first Doctor sunk into a state of fatigued unconsciousness.

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"I don't see anyone," Rose said thickly, peering through the slab in the door. "You sure he's in here?"

"He'd better be," shrugged the Doctor. "If we try the wrong room, we'll be sent back to square one. Back in our cells. Bye bye chance of escape, hello long and lonely death. No thank you."

"Says who?" Rose questioned, rounding on him. Her eyes seemed surprisingly challenging.

"Call it a hunch. It's what always happens. I don't really want to be testing it right now."

"Fine," she muttered. "How'd you find him, then?"

"Instinct."

"What? Instinct?" She seemed appalled.

"Hey, don't be so quick to judge," the Doctor replied quickly, defending his. "It's what found you."

Rose looked as though she were about to reply, but then thought better of it. She turned back to the door and peered into the room.

"I'm not sure," she said at last. "Looks empty. Maybe we should try another."

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The Doctor stirred in his cell as the only source of light in the room was suddenly cut off. He blinked and opened his eyes, but it was so dark, he may as well have kept them shut. For a second, the light came back; it looked as though there was someone moving around outside. He couldn't hear, but he was sure they were coming to take him away. Move him to another cell maybe. He wished they wouldn't and that they would just leave him alone. Couldn't he even die in peace? Starvation would be nice, he thought. Or maybe boredom.

But as he sighed in a long breath and leant back against the wall again, the Doctor knew that the only thing he'd be dying of soon would be a broken a heart.

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"We could end up searching through hundreds of cells, Rose," the Doctor reasoned as she shrugged and began to walk away. He didn't move. "As much as I don't want to pick the wrong one, I don't want to spend the rest of my life searching for the right one, either. It's now or never."

But Rose wasn't listening to the Doctor or thinking about the 'what if's. She was remembering her dream. What was it he had told her? Death would come for him... she would have to make a choice... she would have to leave him behind. Perhaps this was what it meant. Yes, she thought as she walked further down the corridor. He was impossible to find and they needed to escape, quickly. He was probably already dead anyway; and there's no point in looking for a dead body when time is running out.

"Rose?"

The Doctor's voice, she heard, was filled with worry. She'd worried him. Never a good idea.

"It's just... it's my dream, yeah?" Rose said, turning to look at him. What a sight – there he was, his coat billowing slightly like a cloak, a gun on his arm and a worried expression on his face. He looked cautiously to the cell beside him, then took a tentative step forward. His soft eyes bore into hers like a pneumatic drill.

"What about it?"

"He said I'd have to make a choice. Said I'd have to let him go and that death would come for him and that when it did... that I couldn't choose him. Maybe this was what he was talking about."

"Rose, I'm going to tell you something and I want you to listen very closely, okay? Listen to my voice and my words, and hear what I'm telling you."

His voice was worried but stern, as if he were talking to a child who was holding a gun to its temples. Rose nodded carefully as he edged towards her.

"This place plays tricks on you. I don't know if it really was a dream, or if any of it was true. But you can't leave him. Stop listening to your head and start listening to what's real in you. To your heart." He stepped further forward. He was now only a few feet from her. "What does your heart tell you, Rose?"

She bit her bottom lip, almost in indecision.

"To keep looking," she admitted.

The Doctor nodded. His voice never wavered as he continued to speak, all the while stepping closer and closer. "Good," he coaxed. "And what else?"

Rose paused as she relaxed and listened – really listened – to what her body, her mind and her heart was telling her. She looked down to the floor and was surprised to find herself blinking away tears. "That the Doctor's in that room over there. And that I can't save him."

The Doctor was at her side in no time, wrapping his arms around her as tears began to leak down her face. It was getting to her, he realised, as he pulled her close and endured the sobs into his shoulder. She had been so strong through all of this: God knows what she had really dreamt. But she was staying his own little solider, strong, just for him. If only he could keep her holding on for these last few minutes. All she had to do was survive; he would do the rest.

"Shhhh," he breathed into her hair. "We're almost at the end, okay? I promise." The Doctor held Rose by the shoulders away from him and looked directly into her eyes. "You hear me? I promise. I'll get you out. All you have to do is keep holding on. And to trust me. Think you can do that?"

"I'm not a child Doctor," Rose laughed as she sniffed. "I'll always trust you."

"Good," he grinned appreciatively, taking her hand and tugging her back to the original cell. "C'mon, then. Let's see what's behind door number one!"

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The figures were back outside the door. What, were they hovering? Checking up on him? They had no right to do that – he was a good little prisoner now, no thoughts of escaping or causing any trouble. He couldn't if he'd wanted to; he just didn't have the energy.

The Doctor had a good mind to march up to the door and give them a piece of his mind. He would, too; if only he could stand up. So much effort it would take just to keep himself in the air. It was so much easier just to give up, to sit here for the rest of his life. He groaned as he realised that all he had to look forward to was a life of misery. And he wanted to end it now.

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The door wouldn't budge. Rose couldn't see any way that it could budge. There was no handle, no card slot. Nothing. How were they supposed to open it? It wasn't exactly as if they could blast their way open, after all.

"Sonic screwdriver?" Rose suggested eventually.

The Doctor straightened up and shook his head. He had already tried firing the gun but, to his dismay, the gun was out of juice anyway. Typical.

"Nope," he sighed. "Don't have it. It's in my other jacket."

Oh, of course. Rose remembered – the jacket she had searched through to find the screwdriver to help him when he was passed out on the couch. Where she'd found that letter. Hadn't her dream commented on that letter?

She shook herself, reminding herself that there would be time to think about that later.

"I'm not even sure this is the right room," Rose complained. "It seems too difficult to get in to."

"Precisely," the Doctor replied, his eyes sparkling. "That's the point. All the other doors had card slots and keyholes, or ways to open them. This is the only one that's different. Which means, it has to be the right one."

He couldn't have mentioned that before, could he? Oh no, he had to make a show about his 'instincts'.

"Trouble is, I'm not sure if I can open it without any help."

Rose rolled her eyes. This was becoming more and more impossible by the second. And suddenly, a whole new level of 'danger' was added to the field; she heard shouting from not far down the corridor. Security had found them.

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It was just the small matter of getting to his feet. The Doctor didn't even know why he was bothering. But something inside him, some tiny part of his soul that hadn't quite died – a part that was still clinging on for dear life – told him to get up and go to the door. He counted to three in his head, slowly, before he attempted it. He had to use the wall for assistance, but he managed. At last, he was on his own two feet. And he was shaking like hell. Fantastic, he thought as he felt pain shoot all the way down his muscles; he was obviously more tired than he had anticipated. But he staggered over to the door, his eyes blurry with the exhaustion of the tears he had cried. It was then that he knew his mind was playing tricks on him. For the briefest of moments, he swore, he could have seen Rose's face loom in front of his vision, outside the door. But that was impossible. She was dead.

And then, he really did see her. She was there, with that idiot of the other Doctor, standing outside the corridor, trying to find a way into the room. It was her. It really, really was. He hadn't killed her. She was alive. He didn't know how or why he'd been blessed with this gift, but it was her. Her eyes told him that at least. The Doctor felt warmth begin to flow through him again. He took in deep breaths of the air as if he were trying to eat it. He woke himself up from the aching, depressed sleep he must have fallen into. The sparkle in his eye returned. And as the realisation came down on him like a tonne of bricks, the Doctor's hearts – and brain – kicked back into action. Fantastic.

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"Oh my God!" Rose shouted at the top of her voice. She couldn't help it. He was there. He was on the other side of the door, looking right back at her. There was no doubt about it. She would recognise those blue eyes of his anywhere. "He's in there!"

"I already told you that," hissed the Doctor by her side, though he wasn't entirely without sympathy. He was just worried that Rose's cry had alerted the guards, which he too had heard. Sure enough, the footsteps and shouting seemed to edge dangerously closer and closer. "Tell him about the screwdriver," the Doctor said at last, looking at the gun with intent. "He must have one. It'll do."

Of course. Rose turned back to the panel and beamed. She shouldn't shout, she knew. As she started mouthing the words 'sonic screwdriver', Rose wondered how good the Doctor was at lip reading.

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Very good, as it turned out.

"Rose!" he had bellowed once, happiness and joy spilling out from him in tears, in happy shouts, in wild, crazy thoughts. She couldn't hear him, he knew. But having the chance to say her name and knowing that it was possible for her to reply was enough of a reason in itself. But he'd seen her mouthing the words and knew exactly what she was talking about.

He searched his jacket pockets. The guards who had brought him here obviously weren't very clever; they'd left him with all his belongings.

As quickly as he could, he programmed the screwdriver to the right settings and flicked it on. It buzzed and glowed its eerie yet comforting blue light. And the door clicked open. It was as simple as that.

It was impossible to tell who was trying to open the door faster. Rose from the outside or the Doctor from within. But either way, as soon as the door slid itself open, they buried themselves in each other's arms. Rose knew why she was happy to see the Doctor, to see him alive. But why was he hugging her so tightly? Why was he keeping his head so close to hers? And why was he crying? It was baffling.

But all Rose knew was that she was swept into his arms with more force and love than she had ever felt before.

"Rose," she heard him whisper softly in her ear, and that alone sent shivers down her spine. "I can't believe you're here."

She pulled back from him, tears in her already reddened eyes.

"You didn't think I'd leave you here, did you?" she asked, partly laughing, partly feeling a slight pang of guilt at the thought that, yes, she almost did leave him. But he didn't have to know that.

The first Doctor gave her a very knowing look. The grip around her waist tightened.

"Rose Tyler," he said happily, "I am never ever letting you go again. You are the one thing that keeps me going. Losing you would break my heart. And you don't want to go doing a thing like that." He pulled her closer to him again, their faces just inches form each other, and added softly; "I love you too much for that."

She could have kissed him. Right then and there. She could have leant across, closed the gap between them and taken his mouth with her own. God knows she wanted to. How long had she waited for him to say those words? Since they first met, that's when. And when did he choose to say them? When they were on the brink of escaping a prison planet. This Time Lord, she thought with a smile, had the worst timing in the entire universe – and that was saying something.

A sound came from the side of them that sounded like an annoyed Time Lord clearing his throat: which was precisely what it was.

"I hate to break this up," he said cautiously, "But we've got company. Lots."

He jerked his head down to the end of the corridor. About three hundred metres away was a huge gang of bat-like creatures, like the one the second Doctor had tricked into the cell.

"Right," the first Doctor agreed, painfully taking his eyes away from Rose and seeing the group down the corridor. They were stood stationary, as if just as surprised to actually find the little group as they were. The first Doctor looked back to Rose and slipped his fingers in between hers. Oh, how they fit together so perfectly: why couldn't he see it before?

"Ready to run for me?" he asked, his eyes shining. She smiled and nodded – as if he ever needed to ask her that.

The three of them set off at a run down the corridor. Triggering the guards' instincts, the group behind them started to run too. This corridor was long and narrow and straight. And at the end, there was a door.

Their feet echoed down the trail. The siren was still wailing, its incongruous blare invading the minds of everyone around. The door at the end of the corridor was getting closer and closer with each passing second – and so was the group of guards. It was hopeless. There was no way they could reach the door in time. The guards would be on them and take them back to the cells the escapees deserved. And that would be it. Game over.

"That's the door," the second Doctor panted. "That's the control room. That's what'll get us out of here."

The First didn't question it; no doubt he'd missed far too much being cooped up in his cell. He still wasn't sure exactly what was going on, or what had gone on, but he knew he had to run. Run to escape, run to keep Rose safe. Run for his life.

"Doctor," Rose panted. She was speaking to the Second. "We'll never make it."

"Nonsense," he said through gritted teeth. But he chanced a look behind him anyway. No more than twenty metres away, whilst the door lay at best a good one hundred. She was right – they were lost. Then he looked at the gun in his hand. He had noticed earlier that it had a self-destruct setting, which he had begun to program as soon as he'd realised the gun had no more fire. It could be used a dangerous weapon even without ammunition. Clever. But it would detonate instantly, he was sure, like a bomb. Whoever pushed that button would be slaughtered, along with everyone in the explosion's radius. It was a risky option. But it was the only option they had.

"I've got to do it," he said out loud, panting hard.

"Do what?" Rose demanded as they ran on still.

The First Doctor, his mind working as it had never worked before, caught on. His hand slid out of Rose's much to her dismay.

"No," he said definitely. "You can't. You're my future. You have to get Rose out of here, find the TARDIS. You're the one that has to save this planet. I'll handle the rest."

The Second Doctor didn't have to ask if he was sure. There was no time, and even if there was, it would be pointless arguing. His old incarnation always was stubborn. Instead, he chucked the gun over to him as they ran. The first Doctor, amazingly, caught it. After a brief study, he attached it to his arm, much as the Second had done. He was ready.

"What's going on?" Rose shouted, looking from one Doctor to the next. Neither of them could bring themselves to tell her.

They began to pull up to the door, with the guards closing in on them fast. The bats were making horrific screeching noises, perhaps of joy, perhaps of dismay at letting their prisoners escape. Either way, it sent shivers down all of their spines.

"You'll handle it, then?" the second Doctor asked the First.

"Yeah," grinned the first Doctor in reply. "All I'm born to do, really, isn't it. Save the world. Or in this case," he looked to Rose and felt a warmth spread all throughout him. "My world."

They pulled to a stop just outside the door. The bats were gaining on them fast. There wasn't much time.

The second Doctor went to Rose's side and clasped her hand in his. She didn't hold his back. She just stared at the first Doctor in horror. The second Doctor put his hand on the handle of the door and pushed open. The First stood and watched them, grinning.

"You're... you're not coming?" Rose asked, feeling sick to her stomach.

He smiled at her softly, and winked. "Not yet." Then he indicated to the gun. "Someone's got to set this thing off. It'll give you enough time to get out of here. Save yourselves. Live."

Rose's face dropped in horror.

"No," she cried. "No! I've only just got you back!"

He shook his head as the bats began to screech.

"There's no time!" he shouted, his eyes fierce with passion and determination. He locked onto Rose's and for a second, she could see the entire universe looking back at her. "You'll make it," he assured them. "Now go. Shut the door behind you. I won't fire till then."

"Doctor..." Rose choked, not being able to move. The second Doctor pulled her into the room behind him.

"GO!" he shouted furiously. The second Doctor darted around Rose and pushed the door shut. As she stood, watching him, she saw him mouth three words to him. Three tiny, little words. 'I love you'. The door closed shut in front of her as her eyes blurred with tears.

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That hadn't been so hard. And, after all, it wasn't really the end. He might see her again. And if not, he would be giving it all up in the knowledge that she was alive.

The Doctor turned in time to see the bats nearly on him, rage burning in their eyes like a fire in the middle of winter. They were shouting and screaming and came at him with claws and teeth. This was what he wanted, he knew. To go out fighting. The other Doctor had set the gun to fire exactly right. All he had to do was pull the trigger and everything would die. It probably included him. But so what? He could live with that.

"Come on, then!" the Doctor shouted hoarsely as the bats came closer. His finger tightened on the trigger. Then, he ran forward to meet them head on. The further away from the door, the better, after all. As he collided with the first of them, the Doctor pulled down hard on the trigger. He felt an intense pain tear through his body. And the rest was lost to the universe.

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The second Doctor grabbed Rose by the hand and tugged her along the room. Every wall – save for the one with the door – was filled with huge computer equipment, beeping and blaring, as well as huge monitors everywhere. Cameras to every room on this planet. And right in the middle of the control panel, there sat a big, red, smooth, flat button. It was just sitting there, all on its own. How could this room not be guarded?

Rose wouldn't have moved had he not dragged her along. Her tears stung furiously. She'd lost him. Death had come for him – he was right. She half expected him to come bursting back through the door, that goofy grin on his face. She wanted him to. She couldn't bear to lose him. Not again.

"Rose!" the Doctor beside her shouted. His voice brought her back to reality.

"You!" she yelled, rounding on him. There was so much pain in her voice it very nearly broke his heart; but he kept it together. "You killed him! You just let him do it! Just like that!"

She wrenched herself out of his grip and made back for the door. She could still save him.

"Rose, he's gone!" the Doctor shouted at her. "You can't save him. He's gone. If you go out there, all you'll find is death! Take my hand; I'll get us out of here. You have to trust me!"

"How can I trust you?" she yelled back, turning. "You left him!"

He didn't have time for this. Who knew how much time they had? There could be more guards. It was impossible to think about. He marched over to her, took her wrist by force and marched back to the button. She screamed and cried at him, hitting him to let her go. But he wouldn't. The Doctor, tears in his eyes and in his hearts, raised his free hand above his head and brought it down hard on the bright red button.

And suddenly, the siren noise died away. Suddenly, everything was quiet. Suddenly, their surroundings were different, and the Doctor was standing with his clenched fist on a large circle of the TARDIS controls. It was over.

He dropped Rose's hand and blinked. That was... quick. He almost didn't believe it. He looked around, right, left, up, down... it certainly seemed to be the control room. On instinct, he dashed towards the doors and hauled them open. And his hearts leaped at what he saw.

Rose was still not sure what to think. She noticed the change of scenery, but whether it really registered was difficult to tell. She looked over to the Doctor – the one who had as good as murdered the other's life – and felt fury build up within her. She wanted to hurt him for what he'd done. But he looked back at her with such apology in his face that, just for a second, she felt it waver.

"Rose," he said softly. He extended his arm with his hand out. As if she'd take it now; she'd rather spit on it. "Come over here. You need to see this."

She looked at him with disgust, her head spinning.

"It worked then," she said bitterly. "You got us out of there. And you left him behind. How could you, Doctor? He was one of us."

The Doctor didn't reply or made any motion to say he'd heard. All he did was stand, with his arm out, gazing at her with soft eyes. There was something in the way he was looking, something across his face, that told Rose, just this one more time, to trust him. So she did. She walked over to him, but didn't take his hand. Then she looked outside the TARDIS. And her heart leaped too.

"Oh my God," she said in wonder. She turned back to look at the Doctor. "We never left."

"Nope," the Doctor replied, putting his arm down slowly. He looked to the floor as he sighed and explained. "I told you it was a simulation. None of it was real. We're still on Satellite Five. It must have been one of those old, abandoned games. A circuit kept in the back memory that had been left behind, discarded as a failure. When you destroyed the Daleks with the Time Vortex, it must have awoken the simulation and stuck us in it at the first sign of movement; the sign of me directing the TARDIS back to London, or maybe even before." He looked at Rose and, as their eyes met, she didn't look away. "It was all just an illusion. Another game on this Game Station. Probably one that was long forgotten, too."

"So... it was all just... fake? An illusion in an illusion?"

"Probably," the Doctor shrugged. "No wonder it all seemed a bit too easy."

Rose's face hardened.

"You left him in there. We could have saved him. We could have reached the door – "

"No," he interrupted. "We couldn't have. I didn't do anything. He made that choice himself. He gave his life so you and I could live and get on with things; they way they're supposed to be. Didn't you say yourself that he'd told you you couldn't save him?"

"Yeah, but..." Rose wavered, the emotion washing over her like a wave. The Doctor stepped over to her calmly, his hands reaching out to take hers in his. Somehow, the feel of his skin kept her grounded and she looked at him with pleading. It wasn't his fault, she knew. It wasn't fair.

"Rose," he said softly, his eyes shining with regret and sympathy. "It's entirely likely that he was just an illusion too. Another part of the system, worked out from what your mind wanted."

"But," Rose tried to argue. She blinked back the tears, which were leaking through her eyes again. "But, he felt so real. I felt him, Doctor. He was..."

She trailed off. There were no words she could say.

"I know," he said softly, before pulling her into his chest. She didn't fight back. She let herself be folded into his arms, let his hands caress her back and the back of her head. He laid his head on hers as she finally gave up the fight with herself. She put her arms around him, holding him close to her, as she sobbed into his shirt.

The Doctor closed his eyes as he felt the young woman in front of him spill her soul out to him. She was crying for the old him, for the Doctor in the simulation, for his heroic death. She was crying for all of it. And he held her close, keeping her next to him, never wanting to let her go. He fiddled mindlessly with the soft hair on her head as she let the tears fall, each tear another mark of how much he had hurt her.

And there they stood, the lonely couple. Two travellers. The Doctor and his Rose. Surviving yet another adventure, saving the day, saving each other. Still relying on each other to survive. And the Doctor knew that, right now, as Rose wept for the man who had touched her heart in unexplainable ways, all she needed him to do was keep breathing. So he did. And that was that.

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To be continued...

Oh, and I know that Captain Jack was meant to be on Satellite Five too, but I'm just pretending he doesn't exist for the benefit of this story :P