A/N: It's slightly long...sorry.

Chapter 19 – Arrest That Cardigan!

His condition rapidly decreased overnight.

When Rose awoke the next morning, she expected him to have at a bare minimum stop shaking, become a little warmer, and maybe even ready to come back to consciousness.

But instead, she awoke to a rather hysterical Mickey yelling something about arresting cardigans…?

Wait…cardiac arrest.

Cardiac arrest?!

Rose immediately flew out of her bed as well as a woman who looked just about ready to give birth, racing towards the sitting room. There she saw the Doctor in the same position on the sofa, his breathing erratic and dangerously out of rhythm. Crashing onto her knees beside him, she pulled back the dozens of blankets covering him and put her ear to his chest, listening for his heartbeats.

She could only hear one slow, weak beat.

"Doctor…" she whispered fearfully, lifting her head up to see his face again. It wasn't relaxed and even spread like it was last night – it was now contorted with pain and anguish.

She had to do something. She couldn't just let him die; that wasn't what Rose Tyler did. It wasn't what the Doctor did for her. They worked together, solved things together, ran away together, travelled together, made decisions together, got drunk together, had sex together, ate spaghetti and meatballs together…

It couldn't end.

She launched onto her feet, spinning back around in a blur of speed, facing the group of shell shocked individuals standing gawping at the Doctor.

"I know how to make him better," she declared.

"How?" all three people asked at the same time, clearly scared by the Doctor's sudden failure of health.

She swallowed nervously, as if somehow doubting her own logic. "Before he got…" she paused, trying to find the sentence to describe the Doctor's capture without using swear words. "…Taken away, he said somethin' about accelerated healing speeds in the TARDIS."

Howard and Mickey immediately nodded in approval at the idea, but Jackie looked dubious.

"We can't go movin' 'im around whenever we feel like it! He's in a bad enough state as it is already!" She pointed out, annoying correctly.

Rose just sighed and shook her head impatiently, fatigue driving her senses to breaking point. She ran a hand unconsciously over her bump, feeling the baby swim around happily in her womb like it was a theme park. So much for a nine month pregnancy. At this rate she'd be having the baby in Howard's front room in two minutes.

"Please mum…" Rose begged, staring into her mother's eyes with a strong sense of utter despair. She was frantically trying to control her hormones as her hand ran over her womb again. "We've gotta do somethin' or…"

She felt her womb do another painful Braxton-Hicks contraction as she groaned outwardly, staggering involuntarily sideways and falling onto the sofa, her hands held to the painful area.

Mickey immediately stepped forward and sat down next to her, instinctively slipping a supportive arm around her shoulders.

"And the baby's definitely his, right?" Mickey asked casually, watching Rose as she cradled her womb like it held Jesus. Actually, she wouldn't be too surprised if it did.

"Don't get mad Mickey," she pleaded. "We didn't mean for it to happen this way."

He smiled warmly at her. "I know he'd never take advantage over you purposely, okay Rose?" He looked up to Howard immediately, not even waiting for a reply. "D'you wanna gimme a hand Howard? We'll take 'im back to the TARDIS."

Jackie had never in all (thirty-nine years) of her life seen so many policemen patrolling the streets of London. She didn't even have the foggiest idea as to how they were going to get the Doctor from Howard's flat in the Market to the TARDIS in the centre of the Powell Estate without being seen.

Howard and Mickey carried the half-dead Doctor - wrapped up in layers and layers of blankets down the stairs and into the garage to Howard's battered old fruit van with about a third of the engine missing.

Taking the main road was out of the question, so Howard's useful skills as a deliverer came in handy for unmonitored shortcuts and quick routes. But no matter how short their shortcuts were or how quick the quick routes were, Rose still couldn't deny the fact the Doctor was dying – slowly, but surely.

"How's 'e holdin' out?" Jackie asked from the front passenger seat, and Rose shook her head miserably, holding him tighter in the moment.

"He's barely breathin'," she said in a low voice, resting her hand on his chest again. "There's hardly anythin' there…"

"Put ya foot on it Howwie," Jackie instructed the driver, turning back around to face the front as Howard nodded with a half-smile, cruising coolly through a red light. "We've got a Doctor to cure."

By the time they'd pulled up next to the TARDIS, Rose could no longer hear breathing. He wasn't actually breathing in or out…or both.

She had to get him into the TARDIS.

She clambered out of the car in a hurry, pulling the now medically deceased Doctor off of the seat quickly and roughly.

She pulled him with every ounce of the strength she had in her, dragging him with brute force along the concrete to the TARDIS doors. She dropped his arm and immediately began to search out her golden TARDIS key from around her neck, pulling on it so hard that the chain split in two at the back, letting the key loose in her hand.

She jammed it into the door lock, twisting it roughly in a full blown hysterical fit. The door burst inwards immediately, and Rose quickly grabbed the Doctor by an arm and dragged him into the TARDIS console room, not stopping for anything.

The first thing I felt when I opened the doors for her, was an extreme amount of sorrow exploding from somewhere inside me. I watched tearfully as she dragged my Doctor, my unbreathing Doctor into the room, a few squeaks outwardly emitting from me as I sobbed shamelessly.

"Please…" Rose whispered to him, and I could only watch as she too broke down infront of his still body. "Breathe…"

I waited a few seconds. Just a few. Every wrong deserves a chance to right itself, and maybe all the Doctor needed was a little tender loving care from his favourite human companion.

Rose suddenly looked at me, the fear coursing through her looked nothing I'd ever witnessed before or since. I could feel her radiating distress around the room, and since travelling with the Doctor, my emotions sensors were now highly attuned to all sorts of feelings.

But I couldn't feel anything off the Doctor.

"Help him TARDIS!" Rose Tyler begged me. The holder of the Bad Wolf. "He isn't breathing, you've gotta help him…"

But, Jackie Tyler saved me the trouble.

Splash.

Rose watched, mildly surprised as her mother threw the bucket load of ice cold water straight over the Doctor, making him immediately burst back into life with the shock of the water to his skin.

"Doctor!" Rose gasped as his breathing started again, this time shallow – but steady.

"Get him to the Infirmary," Jackie said instantly, producing a towel from seemingly nowhere and kneeling down next to the Doctor, wrapping it tightly around his trembling frame. She lifted him up gently, trying her best not to disturb his injuries too much as Rose made for his legs to carrying him to the Infirmary. She suddenly felt a hand rest on her arm, and looked up to see Mickey's face, solemn looking for once.

"I'll take him, Rose," he insisted, half-expecting Rose to argue with him. But she didn't. She simply stopped back towards Howard, and watched him intently as he picked up the other half of the Doctor.

Rose directed Mickey and Jackie to the last place she'd seen the Infirmary – and whether the TARDIS was being kind or was just concerned for the Doctor, the Infirmary had remained in the same place.

Mickey and Jackie set the Doctor down onto a bed, where Jackie started forcedly rubbing at his wet hair while Rose stood on the other side, linking him to some weird alien machines Rose was sure were useful; though she did admit there was a slight risk that the defibrillator could easy be mistaken for the microwave.

She stayed with him for a while – but had to eventually retire to the Console Room where everyone had gathered, too tired to worry anymore than she already was.

The television in the TARDIS had a million and one channels to choose from, all different and largely variated. But of course, only Jackie would be able to say the dreaded words, "there's nothing on TV."

Though, daytime television was probably more of a Jackie thing – so she was happily entertained while the other three sat in tense silence, the weight of Rose's future now resting on the Doctor waking up.

"He's not gonna wake up, is he?" Rose suddenly croaked, refusing to cry. "He's gonna leave me hangin' for the rest of my life."

No one could offer her words of comfort – because they all knew it was probably true. The government had murdered the Doctor. Jack…Jack had…he'd…what had happened to Jack?

She didn't want to think about it.

She ran her hand over her womb, feeling the baby swimming around inside. Couldn't be long now. What was she going to tell their child when he was older?

"You're daddy's having a long rest right now because he's tired, but he'll be back before you know it."

She wanted him back. Back with her. She wanted to confess her undying love for him and kiss him passionately on the lips, dance in the Console Room to the tune of 'Fairytale Of New York' whilst simultaneously playing the banjo.

But, it was never going to happen.

Because now the Doctor was almost dead, and nothing was bringing him back.

Ever.

It was just then by pure coincidence of course, that he appeared in the room.

He was leaning sideways in the doorway, gasping in pain and cradling his ribs in utter agony with his eyes tightly closed to hold back tears. He started to stagger with difficulty towards them and not one person even dared to breathe. It was like he was a vision - like he shouldn't be there.

A few paces further, and his legs collapsed clumsily from underneath him, making him fall down heavily to his knees. Rose flinched as she felt the pain vibrations from his fractured leg and burns, all summed up in a whimper of anguish, which squeaked out his mouth like a wounded puppy's last cries.

She would like nothing better than to run forward to him, kiss him, hug him, and tell him everything was going to be all right. But he'd see her pregnancy bump, which was now the size of a full nine-month-old embryo – and she didn't think he could take it right now.

Jackie saw her daughter's desire to run forward, yet her hesitance for her pregnancy, and decided in two seconds flat, if this was the man she wanted to be with for the rest of her life, her mother might as well start doing favours for her now. So she ran forward to the Doctor, kneeling infront of him as he continued to double over in pain.

"I can't…" he started, breathing in deeply. "Feel my…legs…"

"Than what ya doin' walkin' around then ya prick?" Jackie began to examine his face with her hands in a mother-like way, soothing over all the bruises and cuts etched aggressively into his skin with the pad of her right thumb. "C'mon, we gotta get you back to bed." She stopped examining his face and took his uninjured arm, pulling him gently to his unsteady feet, where for a second he swayed, and then without warning fell limply onto Jackie, who only just about caught him in time.

"I'm…sorry," he muttered quietly, trying to pull away from her. But she was quick to grab him again, holding him close to her for support.

"I'll take pity on you this once." She smiled, slipping an arm around him for support as both of his arms wrapped around her neck, holding onto her for dear life.

Well, scrub those last few thoughts.

The Doctor was back.

A/N: Yeah, I got a little block in the early hours of yesterday (Or should that be this morning?) and my boyfriend (Curses) suggested to write a bit from the TARDIS's POV. So, I thought, 'Cool! Let's try it.'. It was a nice linking paragraph. At least...I thought it was nice :)

Ha, now I've finally woken the Doctor up, I can start giving next chapter previews again.

Chapter 20 - The Oncoming Tornado

"'Ave you got anything to say about that?" she screamed, but the Doctor was too scared to reply. "Well?" she demanded in a louder voice. The Doctor looked absolutely terrified, suddenly finding the bed cover extremely interesting to look at. "WELL?!"

He finally summoned up the courage to speak. "I'm sorry," he squeaked.