A/N:Apologies for the delay in posting but life and work have been manically busy recently. I only have seven weeks until my wedding so I'm really up against it planning everything. Plus I have sunk into a morbid depression over the news of darling Billie leaving. I'm in tears nearly every time she speaks on the series now. Oh well, she lives on in my heart…but does she in my story?
The world had never gone in slow motion for the Doctor before but it did now. His arms and legs felt leaden, holding him to the spot as surgery staff and Grace battled to save Rose's life. He couldn't hear the shouts or the rhythmic counts of the young man currently massaging Rose's heart, only the piercing of the flat line and the absence of a familiar breathing pattern. He felt the tears on his face before he even realised he was crying and his own voice sounded distant and alien as he pleaded with them to save her. It was only when the staffs' movements ceased that he felt the world come back up to speed, it was only then that he heard the words that sent cold, naked devastation through his veins, Grace's pain filled voice.
"Time of death 13:02, July 5th 2006," she said turning to the Doctor, "I'm so, so sorry."
The Doctor tried to speak but words failed him as he watched the nurse gently cover Rose's still open body with a green surgical cloth. He felt the bile rising in his throat but swallowed it down, burning him as his tears now scorched his cheeks.
"My Rose…" he managed to whisper through too dry lips, "Mine."
Grace's arms brought him little comfort as she held him, sinking to the floor and cradling him close, not caring as his tears soaked through her surgical gown. She fought her own tears as she quieted his, tears for a patient lost, tears for the young life wasted, tears for the Doctor, tears for her failure. She knew she would give anything to save the child that lay covered before her but Rose's heart had been too weak, too badly damaged by whatever the Doctor had removed.
"I should tell Jackie," she said as the Doctor quieted somewhat, only hiccupping now and then, shaking like a terrified child. Grace knew he was broken, her once powerful Doctor consumed by grief greater than anything he'd ever gone through. Even Gallifrey paled in comparison to a love lost at his hands.
"She was supposed to die in battle."
"What?"
"The Devil," said the Doctor, "He said she would die in battle. She would have wanted that, to die in battle, protecting people. Not like this."
"Doctor, I don't…"
"Go and see Jackie Grace, tell her I'm sorry," said the Doctor, "I just want to be alone with Rose for a while."
"They'll want to take her to the mortuary, stitch her up," said Grace, "Let them do that first, don't look at her as exposed as she is, don't remember her like that."
"I won't pull back the cover," said the Doctor, offering her a watery glance, "I just need a moment, to say goodbye."
Grace got to her feet and headed to the door, hurrying the remaining staff out before her, "Its against protocol but ok. Be quick though, don't dwell in this place longer than you have to. Jackie will need someone to comfort her."
The Doctor nodded as Grace closed the door behind her. He visualised the scene playing out just beyond the second door Grace would pass through. Jackie would jump up from her seat as she came out, her eyes hopeful only to be met by Grace's remorse. Then she would stagger back to her chair, collapse into it, disbelief all over her face. Then she'd cry, weep uncontrollably for the child she had lost. Then she'd be angry, screaming and crying about fate, aliens, him, how he'd taken her only child and killed her. The Doctor knew he deserved it but he also knew that Jackie would quiet, would know how desperately that he had loved her daughter and when he left the room they'd cry together, holding each other despite their passed differences, mourning the earthling child who was too good for either of them.
The Doctor reached the surgical table, gazing down at Rose's covered form and half expecting to see the delicate rise and fall of the material as she breathed but it didn't come. He felt the tears in his eyes once again but blinked them back, driving his teeth into the back of his hand to suppress a sob. He only stopped when he tasted blood, pulling his hand away to reveal wounds that he wished could be fatal but then cursing that despite any fatality he would still come back, still be alone. He timidly pulled back the covering from Rose's face, careful not expose the open flesh of her chest. He gently pulled at the surgical tape that held down the air tube in her throat and removed it. Her lips were still full and red, she looked like she was sleeping.
"I tried Rose," he said, "I tried so hard and I failed you. I swore to protect you and I failed you. Why didn't you just go home when I sent you back that time? You were so stubborn, coming back for me like that. What did I ever do to deserve a love like that? My bright angel. Oh Rose…"
He trailed off into a sob, remembering that time, their first kiss that she would never remember, the first time she'd called him 'my Doctor'. He could be romantic and say that was when he first fell in love with her but he knew it was a lie, he'd fallen for her long before that. When he'd taken her hand in the department store he intended to blow up it was the first physical contact he'd had with anyone after Gallifrey died, he had thought to deny himself love after that loss of his people but when her pale, warm fingers curled around his he fell and the love kept growing and growing and he kept denying. How he wished he'd told her sooner, how he'd longed to touch her with fingers that were no longer his, kiss her with lips that would never take another breath. She had been his death as she had been his life and now she was again, his death came with hers and he knew nothing could repair his heart now.
Bending slightly he placed the briefest of kisses to her silent lips, sobbing against them as no breath came forth to meet him.
"I love you Rose Tyler. Be safe because for once I cannot follow."
He pulled the cover back over her face and turned back to the door, his hand stilling for a second on the handle.
"Barcelona," he said softly, "I never took you to Barcelona."
A/N: I'm sorry! Don't hate me. You won't hate me, keep reading! Please keep reading. Its not the end, not by a long shot. Please don't hate me!
