A/N: DANG! It took waaaaaaaaay long than I expected to update. (winces) I'm so, so sorry! There were some plot-things that I HAD TO decide on before I could continue and then schedules got in the way. I'm so sorry!

I've already kept you waiting for too long BUT...! THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for all the review and love! You're the ones keeping this story going. Thank you for that!

Awkay, because I just don't have the heart to keep stalling any longer... Let's go! I really hope that this turns out worth the wait.

… Is to Fall

The Doctor was almost sure that he and Rose lay on grass. Until all of a sudden he opened his eyes to discover that they were standing on a beach instead. On a beach that he knew entirely too well. The serenity and happiness from before disappeared, changing into suffocating dread.

Bad Wolf Bay.

He frowned and looked at Rose, his hold on her hand tightening considerably. "Rose? What…?" He didn't have enough breath to finish the question. Most likely because a part of him already knew and didn't want to hear.

Rose's eyes were full of grief when they met his. "Of course you know already. This is all inside your head. This, all of this… It's nothing but a trick of your imagination." She gestured towards her face. "Do you see that birthmark on my cheek? The real Rose doesn't have a similar. And the color of her eyes… You got it just a little bit wrong."

The Doctor looked away, focusing on the seemingly endless waves while breathing hard. Each inhale hurt immensely and it took all he had to keep breathing. His eyes stung, his line of vision blurring slightly. "Why would I imagine this place?" he spat out with far more venom and bitterness than he'd expected.

That bay… It was the symbol of one of his most bitter losses. Why would his mind have chosen that of all places…?

"Maybe this is the only place where you can let go", Rose suggested quietly. She wiped her eyes, his subconscious mirroring his grief on her. "Because you need to wake up, now."

He gritted his teeth, tightening his grip still. Her hand… It felt so real, warm and soft. "What if I don't want to?"

Rose shook her head. The tears were flowing freely down her pale cheeks. "Now's not the time to give up. Because… Because even if you'll lose her there are many people you're still meant to travel with." She nodded towards the dark water.

With uncharacteristic hesitation the Doctor focused on the same direction. Instantly his eyes widened. "What…?"

Candles, what looked like hundrets of them, were floating towards the shore. Illuminating the darkness. As though showing a path. Each of them had a name.

Amelia. Rory. Clara. Melody. And many more.

"You're going to touch a lot more lives, whether you like it or not. With this face and others. They're waiting for you." The imaginary Rose was smiling bravely through her tears. "Your song hasn't ended yet."

The Doctor kept looking at the candles, mostly because he couldn't face the fact that the Rose beside him was already fading away. Along with everything else. The dream world was falling apart. Pain was beginning to tear at his body, with enough force to make him tremble. A sure sign of waking up.

"Whenever you wonder if it's worth it… If there's any point… Remember those lights. There are people waiting for you to show them theirs." There was a brief pause. The pressure on his hand was already almost gone when Rose spoke once more. "And because as a part of your subconscious I know that you're still worrying… Of course she knows."

The imaginary world collapsed with a single, impossibly painful gasp.

The TARDIS was humming sadly while Donna sat in her medical wing, firmly at the spot she'd only abandoned for a brief visit to the loo during the six hours she'd spent there. Martha kept dropping by often but the younger woman was busy with trying to keep her patient and his highly unusual sick bed hidden from the public. Especially when the world had gone crazy over the footage that leaked out after the fiasco that was containing the Dansheés. Everyone wanted to know who the three heroes that ended the nightmare were and it was bad enough that the medical team that helped Martha knew. Especially when two out of those three were fighting for their lives. The mere idea of all those reporters finding the Doctor sickened Donna. They'd snatch pictures. And when they'd learn that he wasn't a human being…

Donna swallowed down the bitter taste sitting in her throat, focusing on her patient. Still unconscious. No surprise, there. The process of trying to fix the damage had been grueling, especially when there wasn't even close to enough medication that Martha's team would've dared to use. His body was exceptional but surely even he had his limits.

A shiver crossed Donna while she sighed. He was so very still and pale, just like the sheet wrapped around him. He seemed pained even while he was unconscious.

Donna gritted her teeth. Keep it together, now, Noble! There's no use in whimpering and whining! "You do realize that I feel really stupid, talking to myself. Right?" Over the past few hours she'd talked so much that her voice was growing hoarse. She'd told everything to his unresponsive form. Embarrassing childhood tales, sins and secrets… She'd even tried cracking a couple of bad jokes. Nothing worked.

After another forty five minutes Donna was just about to doze off. It had, after all, been a incredibly long and exhausting day. But just as her eyes were closing, her hand relaxing on his still one, something happened. There was a loud, obviously uncomfortable breath. Followed by a twitch that went through his entire body. Was that a moan?

Donna honestly didn't know what was happening. She was just about to scream for Martha when all words froze into her throat. Because there was a pair of half open eyes looking at her. They were bleary and pained, full of agony and confusion. But they were open and aware.

Donna emitted a suspiciously moist, brief chuckle. "Well hello, there. Wasn't that a bit over-dramatic, even for you?" If her voice broke a little she didn't care.

The Doctor tried to smile but it looked more like a grimace. He still seemed more than a little out of it. "So this… is real?" He shifted a little and instantly groaned, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. "Yes, yes, definitely real…"

Donna frowned, feeling infuriatingly useless in the face of her friend's pain. "Just hold still, Spaceman. Take it easy for bloody once." She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, relieved beyond all words to feel pressure in return. So relieved that a lesser woman would've actually broken into tears. "You just basically took a bullet into one of your hearts."
The word 'bullet' seemed to stir something inside the Doctor. His eyes widened and before Donna could do a thing to stop him he was struggling to sit up. Panting although it definitely hurt like hell, trembling, most likely close to popping his stitches and a bed of cold sweat on his forehead.

A slash of irritation and panic sped through Donna. "Oi! Where do you think you're going? You can't…!"

"John…", was all the Time Lord managed at first. Despair, agony and exhaustion all shining in his incredibly old eyes. "He was shot… I have to…" The words that came next were inaudible with his body unable to squeeze them out properly.

Donna gulped loudly. How in the world was she supposed to tell him this? How…? "Doctor." Her voice was so gentle and full of grief that it startled her a little. Or would've if she'd focused enough to notice. She wiped her cheeks, surprised to find them moist. "John… He's dying."

Before that long, nightmarish day Sherlock hadn't believed in hell. But he did now, with utmost certainty. Because he was in it.

He was well aware that it was only thanks to Mycroft that he'd been allowed into John's hospital room. But for once it didn't bother him. John needed him and that was worth swallowing some of his pride. The words that'd been told to him six hours, thirty-five minutes and forty-two seconds ago kept banging at his already aching head. Hammered it mercilessly.

/ "… internal bleeding … too much damage … nothing … truly sorry …" /

That so-called doctor wasn't sorry. He'd been busy to get the chance to bang the nurse he was having an affair with. Sherlock, of course, pointed out as much out loud.

Because even if those idiots were giving up it didn't mean that Sherlock would. Because John… John hadn't given up on him, not even when the soldier should've. And so he sat there beside his friend, watched as the machines helped the smaller man breathe and monitored those frail vitals. Of course Sherlock could see that they were becoming worse and worse. It only made him fight that much harder.

Sherlock's eyes were fixed firmly on the injured man, no matter how much the sight hurt. He never even noticed that he was squeezing that soldier's hand like a lifeline. "Mary had the baby", he revealed, barely recognizing his own voice. "Your daughter is waiting for you. So this…" He cleared his throat and scoffed. "This is highly unacceptable. And you're the one always preaching about proper manners."

There was no reaction from John. Not a twitch. Not a smile. Nothing. And somehow that succeeded in being the most painful part of all.

John always responded to him, especially when he needed the man. No matter how bitterly they'd fought. John wasn't supposed to leave him all alone.

Sherlock groaned and rubbed his face roughly. Blatantly ignoring how his eyes stung. "Just wake up already, why don't you?" He didn't care about the fact that sentiment was slipping into his tone. Perhaps it was what his friend needed to be convinced into coming back. He stared at the unconscious face, each second ticking by eating at his heart. "You always sleep too much. So just… Just stop it."

"Sherlock."

For a blink, just one, Sherlock dared to hope. His eyes widened for a microsecond before he realized that there was no way it could've been John's voice. Emitting a low, hazardous growl over being disturbed in such a private moment he turned his gaze towards the room's door. Stood there was Greg, appearing shaken and sad. It was obvious that the man had been crying not too long ago. And smoking heavily.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "What do you want?" he spat out. He'd never been one for manners, after all. Least of all now.

Greg blinked quickly. Too quickly. "Sherlock… John's doctor… She said that…" The DI gulped laboriously. "That it's only a matter of time, before John's heart gives out again. We have to tell Mary."

"NO!" Sherlock roared. With what might just be enough volume and despair to resurrect the dead. His whole body was beginning to shake but he didn't notice. He glared daggers at the DI. "We're not telling her… because John isn't going to die! We're not going to lose him! So don't you dare…!"

But then, as though mocking his heated words, the machines monitoring John came to life violently. Signaling a faltering heartbeat. A rapidly disappearing hope.

Sherlock's whole body froze as he sat there, staring at John with entirely too open shock, terror, disbelief and betrayal. While John's heart continued to falter his was racing. Way too much, all of it.

All of a sudden he understood, with intimate detail, how John had to feel watching him plunge towards the pavement.

Only, this wasn't fake. A clever plot to save lives. This was very much real. John's two steps hadn't taken him off a rooftop but he was still falling down just as horribly.

"JOHN!"

And then he wasn't alone at John's side anymore. Looking up with fury and startle he was surprised to realize that the Doctor had slumped to the edge of the bed. The alien must've been brought there with the help of both Donna and Martha because the women stood nearby, appearing sad, angry and worried all at once. The Doctor himself was a picture of resolve, despite the fact that he'd just come close to dying himself and appeared to be struggling with the simple task of sitting.

Sherlock breathed hard. His heart hammered while his eyes sharpened. "Help him." It came out a lot more desperately than he'd intended. With a great deal more heartbreak.

The Doctor nodded slowly. Appearing dizzy and exhausted but also resolute. "I will."

Despite himself Sherlock's eyes widened a fraction while he watched how a bizarre glow took over the alien's hands. Growing and seeming to fill the entire room. It was, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen.

"What are you doing?!" Donna cried out.

The Doctor smiled, just a little bit. His focus was solely on John whose heart was barely beating anymore. "It's a simple choice, really…", the space and time traveler murmured, clearly speaking mostly to himself. Slowly, slowly the alien laid his glowing hands to both sides of the soldier's head. "I'm sorry, John. But this may hurt a little."

Now, the Doctor never asked whether John was worth sacrificing one of his several lives. Because he already knew. He'd seen it. He had faith that John would make good use of the extra years, perhaps even decades, he'd been given.

The light grew and blossomed, pulsated almost like the heartbeat that the two of them shared for a brief moment. In the end that baffling amount of energy surged into John, filling the man's body that'd been fighting a losing battle. Settled in and made a home.

Instantly John's vitals improved. The heartbeat that'd nearly been lost yet again was there, stronger than ever. A pair of blue eyes flew open, full of shock and disbelief, to meet a pair of hazy brown ones. The two of them stared at each other for a long moment, completely forgetting about their dazed audience.

John couldn't speak with the tube still stuffed into his throat but the Doctor had no such limitations. The last of the Time Lords gave a small smile that was equal parts sad and reassuring. Then leaned close to John's ear and whispered something before pulling away once more.

It didn't require a lot of observational skills to realize that the Doctor was currently using the last of his strength. Martha swallowed, a tight knot forming in the pit of her stomach. "Doctor?"

"I'm fine." The alien seemed to try and catch his breath before focusing on her and Donna. "I, ah… need something, from the TARDIS. Could you…?"

Martha nodded, the alarm not fading even slightly. "Of course." She could actually feel how the man struggled to hold himself together when they eased him off the bed, helping him to his unsteady feet.

They'd made it to the room's door until Sherlock's voice interrupted them. "Doctor?" There was a storm of emotions of the detective's face. "Thank you."

The Doctor nodded. When it was certain that both Sherlock and Greg were fully focused on John they left the room. Just in time to avoid the doctors and nurses rushing in at the call Greg had the mind to make.

Somehow, impossibly, they made it to the TARDIS they'd left nearby the hospital. As soon as her doors closed the Doctor's knees buckled. With a stunning amount of grace he slumped to Donna's arms.

"Woah!" Donna gasped, her voice carrying a tremor of startle. "It's okay, it's okay. We've got you. You'll be fine, you hear me? It's okay." Despite her words she had to fight back tears. Some already rolled down Martha's cheeks. Together they helped him down, so that he could lean against the wall.

The Doctor himself had a eerie, sad little smile on his face while his hazy, moist eyes peered at them blearily. "…the best of times…" Squeezing out those words seemed to take all his determination. "Right?"

The two women could only nod. Donna took his hand and squeezed, as though the contact alone would've been enough to make him hold on. "Definitely, Spaceman."

The Doctor's smile widened, just a little, although it could've as easily been a grimace. "Thank you." His eyes then shifted towards Martha with some difficulty. A little more pain seeped into them. "And sorry."

Martha swallowed loudly. Then shook her head vehemently. "Nothing to be sorry for."

The Doctor didn't seem as convinced. But as it was he couldn't hold on any longer. He leaned a little more heavily against the wall and emitted a shuddering sigh.

"Doctor?" Donna called out, alarmed. His hold on her hand was beginning to grow slack. "Oh no, don't you dare…!"

But his eyes slipped closed and his fingers weren't squeezing back anymore.

"DOCTOR!"

TBC

A/N: GOOOOOSH! I've gotta admit that I'm feeling a little breathless at the end of this. (gasps) How is this story going end? Is everyone going to make it through?

Thoughts? Comments? Threats...? PLEASE, do leave a note on the box below! Don't you just hear it calling...?

ONLY ONE MORE AND AN EPILOGUE TO GO!

Until next time, folks! I REALLY hope that you'll all join in for that one.

Take care!

Julesss: You have NO IDEA how happy I am to hear that you think so! (BEAMS) I really hope that you'll enjoy what's to come as much.

Colossal thank yous for the amazing review!

(And SPECIAL thank yous to SaltiQuill! Your review totally blew my mind in the BEST way.) (hugs)