Chapter Seven — Rise and…Shine?

Something was definitely not right.

Rose struggled up through layers of sleep, wading her way through the murk of her thoughts. Something…yes, something was very much not right at all. For one thing, she was breathing quite well and didn't feel drugged or in pain. That was at complete odds with how she had been before. Dying. That's what she'd been doing. Dying and drugged and still in a bit of pain despite it all.

…at complete odds…

The unfamiliar thought pattern gave her pause. Was that right? She couldn't really remember ever saying something like that before. It was just a little… off.

Well, that hardly mattered in light of the fact that she appeared to be — at least from her present point of view — completely healed. The Doctor must have worked out a miracle, after all.

Speaking of which, was that him holding her hand? Rose opened her eyes. Ceiling of the medlab — check. Good to know that something was still the same, she supposed.

"Doctor?"

Okay. Her hearing was off. Because that voice didn't really sound like hers. At all. Odd. Everything sounded so crystal clear… just her voice, so different. Low. A little husky. Not her ears, then, right? Something was wrong with her voice?

The Doctor looked up from the file in his lap, grinning at her so hugely that she couldn't help but return it with one of her own her. "Hello, there. Have a good nap?"

He was smiling, which meant that she was all right. All right — but not all right. Because something was definitely… off.

For instance — the rapid staccato of her heart.

No. Not heart.

Rose's hand flew to her chest. She pressed down, eyes widening. A look flitted across the Doctor's face in the split second that she realized the impossible.

Hearts. Plural. More than one. Two.

"Rose — try to stay calm."

"Calm?" Rose asked in that voice that was not her own. Two hearts. Two beating hearts. That wasn't normal. It wasn't human. A sizzle of fear made one of the hearts jump a beat."What happened? What's happened to me?"

And there it was. With more than a single word out of her mouth at a time, she could hear that more than just her voice had changed. Her accent had, too.

"Remember that little trick Time Lords have for cheating death? Well — looks like you inherited it. Congratulations! You get to live, Rose!"

Rose knew two things at that moment.

One — he'd thought long and hard about how exactly he was going to break this news to her. She could tell that by the nervous play of his hands — through his hair, to his ear, then to the device he still held — and by the overly bright grin he was giving her. Too big. Too forced. He wanted her to be happy about this.

The second thing, the one that worried her the most — was that he was talking about regeneration. Specifically, her regeneration. A regeneration that was completely, one hundred percent, impossible.

"That just isn't possible." But even as she said the words, Rose knew that the Doctor was right. That voice was not her own. Not the one that she'd known for all her life. Even the way she was thinking, the thought patters and speech patterns, were different! She felt a mild tremor of fear run over her body.

The Doctor merely tilted his head to the side, studying her with eyes that sparkled with blatant curiosity. "Just as living through the Time Vortex inside of you should have been impossible. But here we are — and you've definitely regenerated. Watched it all with my own two eyes. You died…and then came back. Right as rain, good as new." He grinned again.

He was excited. So very, very excited. She couldn't help but return the smile, even through her fear. Her head was spinning and it was more than just all that knowledge that was still bubbling in her thoughts. But the Doctor was right about something important, she realized after a long moment's thought — she was alive. And that counted for something. "I'm going to be poked and prodded a bit until you either figure this out or give up, aren't I?"

"Oh…well — if you don't mind and all," he agreed with a nod and a shrug of his shoulders.

She laughed. It was full throated, definitely falling into the husky range that she'd once envied about other women. The women that knew how to make a man quiver with just a few words or a meaningful look.

"How do you feel?"

"Great," she admitted with a shrug. "Other than the obvious emotional distress of finding out I'm not human anymore."

"You're very calm about that."

Rose nodded, thinking about it. In the past, something of this magnitude would have put her into a nervous fit, at the very least. "I suppose so. No sense getting worried over something I can't change, is there? I mean — I'd be dead if this hadn't happened. Keep thinking I should be a little more…worked up, though."

The Doctor was all grins. "New personality trait."

Right. She knew that. Had watched him go through it, trying to figure out who he was. From the moment he had stepped out of the doors of the TARDIS, ready to save them all from the Syccorax, he'd been full of questions about himself. Starting with whether or not —

Rose reached up to her head, grabbing hold of a few strands to pull them around. Dark.

"Not ginger," the Doctor said. She could hear the laughter in his voice.

"Am I —" she paused, hesitant. Did she want to know the answer? "Am I still…you know… decently pretty?"

"You look just about the same, Rose. Different hair. Oh, different eyes. Bright blue, sparkling eyes. Little taller. More wispy. But still noticeably you."

She breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn't realized she'd even been holding, sending out a mental thank you to whatever energy controlled regenerations that she'd been saved a complete work over this time around. And even as that thought went through her head, she knew that this was only the first of a line of regenerations for her. It was frightening.

And a little exciting, she decided; nodding to herself.

Then — "You didn't answer the question, Doctor. Or did you?" She frowned and looked up at him through lowered lashes. Apparently she was flirty now. "I asked if I was still pretty… you didn't say yes. Just said I looked almost the same as before. So was I pretty before?"

The grin faded from his face, quick as lightning. Rose wondered if she'd made a mistake, pressing the issue.

"Don't you remember what I told you, before —" he trailed off, mouth working but no sound coming out. "Oh... you know — before you died?"

Rose tilted her head to the side. It was painful to try to remember that. She'd been so scared and trying so very hard not to let the Doctor realize it. Trying to be brave. "I remember you holding my hand and saying … " What had he said? "… that…"

"That I love you," he finished for her, quietly. "That didn't change. Isn't going to."

Rose licked her lips. She could remember it now. Remembered him saying the words that she had longed to hear for so long, right then as she'd been at death's door. Could remember that she'd said them back to him, happy that, in the end, he had admitted what they'd had. Given voice to it.

"I remember," she nodded.

He held her eyes for the longest of moments, fiddling nervously with the tool in his hands. Then he gave a little nod and turned around, shoulders slumping almost imperceptibly. But Rose noticed. She always did. She knew the Doctor's little quirks better than she knew her own.

Much better than she knew her own, given that she couldn't say for sure what quirks, if any, she had currently.

Now —that- was an odd thing. Not knowing anything about yourself.

Well, not true. There was something she did know. She was still Rose Tyler, companion to the Doctor.

And she still loved him.

"I mean it when I said it, too," she said into the silence. What had gotten him in such a down mood all of a sudden?

He turned, and the sparkle was back in his eyes. Still some uncertainty, though. "And now?"

"Now?" Rose repeated with a lift of her eyebrows. "Oh, come off it. Are you seriously asking if I still love you even…you know… because I'm different now?" She snorted in disbelief. "After all those talks you gave me about you still being the same person, deep down. And now you're asking me a question you should already know the answer to?"

"Well, you never know, really. I mean —"

Rose slid down off the table, looking down at herself. Oh, yes, she was taller. Taller, and in need of new clothes. Almost the Doctor's height, but not quite. That first step she took toward him was a bit unsteady, like walking on platform shoes you weren't quite used to, but before she knew it she was right in front of him.

"I may not know much right now, Doctor — and we'll talk later on how weird it is not knowing whether or not I still like the same music or food or…everything — but I do know that I still love you. I don't think that is going to change ever."

One of them moved as those final words left her lips. Him. Her. Rose wasn't really sure. His lips were just there, with hers. Pressing together. Gently. So gently. Her first kiss in this new body.

And this body, Rose found as she pressed against the Doctor, definitely enjoyed that sort of thing.

She pulled back, a bit breathless, looking into his eyes for confirmation that this was all right — that they could do this now, even if they had never done it before.

The Doctor smiled, just the corner of his mouth going up. He reached up, fingers running through those auburn colored strands of hair that she still had a hard time believing were hers. His palm came to rest on her cheek.

"You and I," he said softly. "Are going to have so much fun together."

There it was, Rose thought to herself, as she met him for a second kiss — yet another thing she was sure about.

Some things would never change.

END CHAPTER