Jack raced up the stairs behind Rose and Mickey, instinctually covering the rear in case they had been followed, despite the fact that he was currently weaponless. He and the Doctor had reached a bit of an unspoken compromise regarding whether or not Jack was armed. He didn't make a habit of carrying a weapon when they weren't in peril, and the Doctor didn't make him stop carrying a weapon if they were (and Jack managed to get his hands on one) - as long as Jack didn't use it unless he had to.

Jack thought this was still a bit constricting, but he'd seen enough violence in his life to understand why someone who had seen as much of it as the Doctor had would be so vehemently opposed to indiscriminate use of weaponry.

Jack also refrained from pointing out that the Doctor had weaponized his sonic screwdriver more than once in their acquaintance.

At any rate, as he scaled the stairway of the Powell Estate behind Rose and Mickey, he found himself wishing for a decent sonic blaster, or at least a garden-variety pistol. Even the sonic screwdriver was back at the flat, sitting on Jackie's bedside table next to its sleeping owner.

The trio burst through the door to Jackie's flat to find Jackie on the phone. Rose raced over to her, shouting "Get off the phone!"

"It's only Bev!" Jackie said. "She says hello."

Rose grabbed the phone from her mother. "Bev? Yeah, look, it'll have to wait." She hung up the phone and addressed everyone. "Right, it's not safe, we've gotta get out. Where can we go?"

"My mate Stan, he'll put us up," Mickey suggested.

"That's only two streets away!" Rose turned and focused on her mum. "What about Mo? Where's she living now?"

Bewildered, Jackie shook her head and shrugged. "I dunno, Peak District."

"Okay, we'll go to Cousin Mo's then," Rose said decisively.

"It's Christmas Eve," Jackie exclaimed, and although she didn't stomp her foot Jack felt like the act was implicit in her tone. "We're not going anywhere! What are you on about?"

Rose opened her mouth to reply, but her attention was caught by something in the corner of the room. "Mum…" she said, tone cautious.

Jack turned and followed Rose's gaze, seeing the new Christmas tree in the corner of the living room. Jack bit back a sigh. Things were about to get more interesting, and he still didn't have a weapon.

"Where'd you get that tree?" Rose asked Jackie. Jackie tilted her head and gave Rose a blank look. "That's a new tree," Rose elaborated, pointing at it. "Where'd you get it?"

"Well, I thought it was you!" Jackie said indignantly.

"How could it be me?" Rose asked, voice incredulous.

Jackie shrugged. "Well, you went shopping, there was a ring at the door, and there it was!"

Jack edged closer to the tree, cautious. "It wasn't us," he said tensely.

"Then who was it?" Jackie asked, still bewildered.

When Jack was a few feet away from the tree, it lit up suddenly on its own. "Shit," he muttered under his breath, even as behind him Rose muttered, "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

Jack backed away, keeping himself between Rose and Jackie and the tree. He made mental note of Mickey's position in the room, behind Jack and to his right. The tree began to spin and play a manic rendition of "Jingle Bells." Jack shook his head. Of all the ridiculous attacks we've ever sustained, he thought, this has to be the most ridiculous of them all. As it spun faster and faster, the tree hovered a few inches above the floor.

"Get back!" Jack yelled at Rose and Jackie. "Get to the Doctor," he added.

The tree began to move forward, reducing Jackie's coffee table to splinters in seconds. Mickey picked up a chair, holding it in front of him as if it would stop the tree when the coffee table hadn't. Jack admired the sentiment but had no illusions that it would work.

Rose was darting down the hallway towards the room where the Doctor still lay in his healing coma, her mother yelling after her that they had to get out. "We can't just leave him!" Jack heard Rose shout before she disappeared into her mother's bedroom.

Jack watched as the tree advanced on Mickey, reducing the chair he was holding to kindling just as easily as it had dispatched the coffee table. Knowing there was nothing in the room that could help them, Jack decided that in this case retreat was the better part of valor.

"Fall back, Mickey!" he shouted, even as Jackie screamed behind him for them to get out. They ran back towards Jackie's bedroom. Jack and Mickey ran straight into the room, but Jackie lingered in the doorway.

"Just leave him!" she yelled.

"Get in here!" Mickey shouted back, as both Rose and Jack leveled incredulous stares at Jackie.

A layer of visible frustration icing over her panic, Jackie stepped all the way into the room and slammed the door shut behind her. Mickey, who was attempting to push her wardrobe in front of the door, motioned for her to come help him, and she did so.

Meanwhile, Jack had picked up the sonic screwdriver and was fiddling with it, running through all the settings he'd managed to memorize in his relatively short time with the Doctor. It was woefully short, however, and he couldn't think of any that would help against a murderous spinning Christmas tree.

"Any ideas for a killer Christmas tree setting, Rose?" he shouted over the din of "Jingle Bells."

Rose shook her head. She leaned over the Doctor and shouted into his ear. "Doctor, wake up!" He didn't react and Rose looked helplessly at Jack.

The wardrobe began to shake violently as the tree began to grind its way through. "I'm gonna get killed by a Christmas tree," Jackie screamed, her voice rising into a squeak at the end of the sentence. She and Mickey scrambled back to the other side of the room and cowered in the corner.

Suddenly, Rose's face lit up. "Jack, give me the sonic!"

Jack tossed it to her without question and then squared his shoulders facing the door, placing himself between the tree and his friends. He glanced over his shoulder to see what Rose was doing, noting that she had placed the sonic in the Doctor's hand.

The tree burst through the doors. "Jack, get back!" Rose yelled. He backed up a little but kept himself in front of everyone else. Another glance over his shoulder revealed Rose leaning in close to the Doctor's ear, murmuring something to him that Jack couldn't hear.

She had no sooner pulled back from him than he shot upright, pointing the sonic at the spinning tree. Wordlessly, he soniced the tree, causing it to explode just a foot or so away from Jack. Jack and Rose stared at the Doctor breathlessly.

"Remote control," he said blandly, as if he hadn't just been summoned out of a coma to save Rose from a Christmas tree. "But who's controlling it?" he continued, leaping out of bed. He spotted a dressing gown hanging on a hook and grabbed it, stepping nimbly over the remains of the tree.

Bemused, Jack and the rest of them trailed after the Doctor as he made his way out of the flat and onto the balcony. They looked down into the square below and saw three of the masked Santas looking up at them.

"That's them!" Mickey exclaimed. "What are they?"

Rose shushed him, focused on the Doctor. He raised the sonic, arm steady, and pointed it down at the Santas. They backed away, getting closer together before teleporting away. The Doctor still said nothing.

Mickey, naturally, filled the void. "They've just gone!" he exclaimed. "What kind of rubbish were they? I mean, no offense," he continued cockily. "But they're not much cop if a sonic screwdriver's gonna scare 'em off."

"Pilot fish," the Doctor said flatly.

"What?" Rose asked as four pairs of eyes focused sharply on the Doctor.

"They were just pilot fish." Whatever else he might have said was lost as he groaned, clutched his stomach, and collapsed back against the wall. They knelt around him, Rose taking one of his hands and Jack laying a hand on his shoulder.

"What's wrong?" Rose asked worriedly.

"You woke me up too soon," he ground out, breathing heavily. "I'm still regenerating. I'm bursting with energy." Yet another tendril of golden light burst forth from his mouth. "See? The pilot fish could smell it," he explained. "A million miles away. So they eliminate the defense - that's you - and they carry me off." He broke off to cough.

Jack glanced up at the sky above them, deceptively empty-looking. "They could run their batteries on you for a couple of years," he said, concerned.

The Doctor nodded slightly before groaning and doubling over in pain. While Jackie panicked behind Rose, the Doctor grit his teeth. "My head," he ground out. Jackie pushed forward, holding the Doctor up. "I'm having a neural implosion," he said, focusing on her.

"What do you need?" Jackie asked frantically.

"I need…" the Doctor said.

"Say it, tell me, tell me…" Jackie encouraged.

"I need…"

"Painkillers?" Jackie suggested.

"I need…"

"Do you need aspirin?"

"I…"

"Codeine? Paracetamol? Oh, I dunno, Pepto-Bismol?"

"I need…"

"Liquid paraffin? Vitamin C, Vitamin D, Vitamin E?" Jackie continued, her voice rising hysterically. Jack wasn't sure if he should keep watching in amusement or stop her babbling so they could actually help the Doctor.

"I need…" the Doctor began yet again.

"Is it food?" Jackie said, switching categories. "Something simple," she decided. "Uh, a bowl of soup? A nice bowl of soup? Soup and a sandwich? Soup and a little ham sandwich?" she finished, sounding slightly crazed.

"I need you to shut up!" the Doctor finally managed, and Jack smothered a chuckle.

For her part, Jackie pulled back and looked annoyed. "Well, he hasn't changed that much, has he?" she muttered.

The Doctor lurched forward with a groan, leaning heavily on the balcony railing. "We haven't got much time," he said. "If there's pilot fish, then-" He broke off, reached into the pocket of his dressing gown. He pulled an apple out and looked at it, a bemused expression on his face. "Why's there an apple in the pocket of my dressing gown?" he asked, looking round at the rest of them.

"Oh, that's Howard," Jackie said, her tone apologetic. "Sorry."

"He keeps apples in his dressing gown?" the Doctor asked, confused.

"He gets hungry," Jackie explained sheepishly.

The Doctor glanced between the apple and Jackie, completely flummoxed. "What, he gets hungry in his sleep?"

Jackie shrugged. "Sometimes."

The Doctor looked like he might pursue the issue of the apple and the dressing gown, but then he doubled over in pain once again. He backed up against the wall again and sank to the ground, grimacing. Rose knelt in front of him and Jack hunkered down next to them.

"Brain… collapsing…" the Doctor grit out. He reached out and grabbed Rose's arms. He held them tightly and focused on her face. With enormous and obvious effort, he continued to speak to her. "The pilot fish… the pilot fish mean… that something… something…" He took a deep breath. "Something's coming," he finished. Without another word, he slumped down into Rose's lap.

"Doctor?" she said, apprehensive. "Doctor?"

Jack shook his head. "He's gone back into a coma again." Jack reached out and laid one of his hands over Rose's. "There's nothing we can do for him now but keep watch and protect him when whatever's coming gets here."

Rose looked distressed. "And how are we gonna do that, Jack?"

Jack said nothing, setting his jaw. He got to his feet and peered down into the courtyard, verifying that all of the Santas were still gone. Satisfied that, at least for the time being, they were safe, he looked at Mickey and Jackie. "Get inside and start reinforcing the windows. Use anything you can think of." They nodded and disappeared into the flat.

Jack knelt back down next to Rose and the Doctor. "Hey," he said, gently taking Rose's chin in his hand. "We'll get through this."

"Yeah," Rose said, sounding unconvinced.

"We've got through worse. We got through the Game Station, didn't we?"

Rose looked down at the Doctor and his new face. "Mostly," she said quietly.

"It's going to be all right, Rose. We'll make it all right." He leaned forward to press a kiss to Rose's forehead and then shifted so that he was crouching on his feet instead of kneeling. "Let's get him back inside, and then we'll figure something out."

Rose nodded. "All right." She helped shift the Doctor into Jack's arms and helped support the Doctor's weight as she and Jack got to their feet.

With Rose holding the door out of the way, Jack maneuvered the Doctor's unconscious body through the doorway and down the hall to Jackie's bedroom. Rose darted in behind him, brushed past him and pulled back the covers so that Jack could set the Doctor down. Jack adjusted the Doctor into what he hoped was a comfortable position. Wordlessly, Rose held out the end of the covers. Jack took it and arranged the covers over the Doctor, tucking him in like a child. Rose clambered onto the bed and knelt down next to the Doctor.

"He's sweating," she said. "He wasn't doing that before. Jack, he's getting worse, not better."

Jack grimaced. "Let me get you a cloth for his forehead," he said.

"Thanks," Rose said distractedly.

Jack sighed. "I'll be right back," he murmured.

He made his way to the living room, which in its post-Christmas tree attack state looked as though a hurricane had passed through. Jackie was in the middle of stacking shelving units in front of the windows.

"Jackie," he began, "do you have a handkerchief or a washcloth? The Doctor's getting clammy."

Jackie nodded. "Of course," she replied. "Follow me." She led him to a small closet filled with various items, including linens. She rummaged around until she produced a small square of soft flannel. "This should do, I think."

Jack reached out to take it, smiling gratefully. "Yes, I think it will." He tried to take it from her, but she kept a hard grip on the other corner. "Of course, it will work better if you give it to me," he said, bemused.

"I've slapped the Doctor, you know," Jackie said conversationally.

"I believe I've heard that story, yes," Jack said cautiously.

"I don't know you, Captain Jack. I don't know what you mean to my daughter or what she means to you, or how you fit in with her and the Doctor. But so help me God, if you hurt my daughter, you'll answer to me."

Jack's expression turned serious. "Jackie Tyler, your daughter is the most exceptional human being I have ever had the pleasure or the honor of knowing. I'd die before hurting her or before letting someone else hurt her. I promise you that."

Jackie held his gaze steadily for a moment, and Jack felt like he was being measured. He found himself straightening his posture slightly, oddly intimidated. Her bark is worse than her bite, Rose had told him a few hours earlier. Jack was beginning to think it might be the other way 'round.

"You'd best keep that promise," Jackie finally said, releasing the flannel cloth.

Jack resisted the urge to salute, certain that under these circumstances it would come off as insolent rather than as an actual assent to Jackie's decree. Jackie Tyler, he decided, was a formidable and, in her own way, extraordinary woman.

Then again, he thought as he approached the doorway to the room where the Doctor lay and caught sight of Rose, still kneeling next to him, now clutching one of his hands and watching his face carefully, it would take a formidable and extraordinary woman to raise someone as wonderful as Rose Tyler. He walked fully into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Here," he said quietly, handing the piece of flannel to Rose over the Doctor's prone form.

"Thanks," she replied, taking the cloth and wiping the Doctor's brow. "What if he doesn't wake up?" she asked in a small voice.

"He will," Jack said, trying to inject as much certainty into his voice as he possibly could.

"But what if he doesn't, Jack? What will we do?"

Jack shook his head slowly. "Take him back to the TARDIS, I guess. She'd know what to do."

"But neither of us can talk to her the way the Doctor can," Rose said helplessly. "How could we even-"

Jack reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind Rose's ear before cupping her cheek. "He'll wake up, honey."

Rose leaned into Jack's touch, relishing the warmth of his hand against her cheek. It was crazy, considering the situation they were currently in and the fact that she still wasn't quite one hundred percent convinced that this skinny, sweating bloke really, really was the Doctor, but sitting there with the Doctor's hand in hers and Jack's hand on her cheek, Rose Tyler felt safe. Sure, their situation felt pretty dire at the moment and the Doctor was, for lack of a better description, out of commission, but he was here and Jack was here, and they weren't hundreds of thousands of years in the future fighting a hopeless battle without her, and that at least was an improvement over the last time she'd stumbled out of the TARDIS and onto the Powell Estate.

A slight movement outside the door caught her eye, and she looked over to find Mickey standing in the doorway holding his laptop. The slight smile that had appeared on her face dropped, and though Mickey didn't say anything Rose felt like something important had happened between them. He nodded slightly and then resolutely continued past the door.

Rose shook herself a little and turned her attention back to Jack and the Doctor. "We should probably check his vitals again," she said, itching to do something, even if it wasn't particularly helpful. Jack reached behind himself and plucked the medical student's stethoscope from the bedside table.

"Here," he said. "You can do it."

Rose was fairly certain Jack knew the only reason she wanted to check over the Doctor again like this was to feel like she was doing something. He was exceptionally good at reading her, in some ways better even than the Doctor.

She put the stethoscope into her ears and laid the other end on the Doctor's chest. With a small gasp of dismay, she pulled back.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked, tone sharpening.

"Only one of them's working," Rose said numbly.

Jack sighed heavily, then got to his feet and ruffled Rose's hair gently. "He'll get better," he said. "He has to." He gestured out towards the living room. "Come on, let's leave him be for a while. He needs time to heal."

Rose looked back at the Doctor's restless form and nearly told Jack she'd rather stay with the Doctor, but she decided that Jack had a point. If healing comas were normal for Time Lords like Jack said they were, then whatever was happening with his hearts right now was probably normal too, or so she could tell herself. Finally, she nodded and shifted until she could swing her legs over the edge of the bed and get to her feet. "All right, Jack," she said. "But we'll have to come check out him soon."

Jack nodded and slipped his arm around Rose's shoulders as she came around the bed. Together, they made their way to the living room. The windows were now blocked, and although it was nothing that would stand in the way of another murderous Christmas tree or any truly determined alien attacker, it still made Rose feel at least a little safer. Sometimes an extra few seconds was all you needed to make a clean getaway - if nothing else, her time with the Doctor had taught her that.

Jackie had turned on the telly, and it was tuned to the BBC, whose reporters appeared to be discussing the same space probe project she'd seen being talked about earlier by Harriet Jones. Mickey was sitting on the couch, which had been cleared of debris. His laptop was sitting on his lap, and Rose saw that he'd connected it in to the phone line so he could use the internet. Jackie sat in her favorite chair, a cup of tea in her hand and two steaming cups of tea sitting on a makeshift table in front of her.

Rose sat down on the arm of Jackie's chair while Jack took a seat next to Mickey.

"Any change?" Jackie asked.

"He's worse," Rose admitted. "Just one heart beating. Jack says he thinks it might be normal."

Jackie shrugged. "Well I certainly don't know." She reached forward and picked up one of the extra cups of tea and handed it to Rose. "The other's for you, Captain," she said. "I didn't know how you take it, so I left it black," she added. "There's milk and sugar in the kitchen if you fancy them."

"Thank you," Jack said, reaching forward to pick up the cup and taking a sip. "Black is fine."

Hoping to take her mind off the Doctor and their current predicament, Rose turned her attention to the telly, where a reporter was preparing to throw to the live feed of a press conference.

"Scientists in charge of Britain's mission to Mars have re-established contact with the Guinevere I Space Probe. They're expecting the first transmission from the planet's surface in the next few minutes."

At the press conference, the squirrely scientist from earlier in the day, who the graphics at the bottom of the screen identified as Daniel Llewellyn, was already answering questions. "Yes, we are. We're - we're back on schedule. We've received the signal from Guinevere I. The Mars landing is an unqualified success." He seemed to be near to bursting with pride and excitement.

"But is it true that you completely lost contact with the probe earlier tonight?"

"Yes, we had a bit of a scare." Rose found herself tensing at this. They were also having a bit of scare, weren't they? "Guinevere seemed to fall off the scope," Llewellyn continued, "but it… it was just a blip. She only disappeared for a few seconds. She's fine now, absolutely fine. We… we're getting the first pictures transmitted any time now." He glanced to the side, as if seeing someone gesturing for him. "I'd better get back to it, thanks."

He hurried off the stage and the BBC cut back to their reporters. Rose looked over at Jack and could see the same vague worry that she was feeling written on his face. She would have said something, but Mickey interrupted.

"Here we go," he said, staring at his laptop. "Pilot fish."

Rose got to her feet and went to sit on Mickey's other side. She and Jack watched over Mickey's shoulders.

"Scavengers, like the Doctor said," Mickey continued as a video played on his computer. "Harmless. They're tiny, but the point is the little fish swim alongside the big fish."

"Do you mean like sharks?" Rose asked, glancing worriedly from the screen to Mickey to Jack and back to Mickey.

"Great big sharks," Mickey affirmed. "So, what the Doctor means is… we had them," he gestured to the small fish swimming along in the video. "Now we get that," he finished. As he said it, a huge shark appeared in the video, snapping its jaws violently at the viewer.

"Something is coming…" Rose murmured, chilled and wishing more than ever that the Doctor were here. Or rather, that the Doctor were conscious, she thought, reminding herself that the Doctor was - supposedly - still the Doctor and still present.

As the television feed experienced some mild static, Rose looked at Mickey. "How close?" she asked, her voice low and serious.

"There's no way of telling," Mickey said with a shrug. "But the pilot fish don't swim far from the daddy."

The static on the television resolved itself into a shaky image. As Jackie peered closer to the screen, Rose stared at it from where she sat, seeing it but not really processing it. "So it's close," she murmured.

"Funny sort of rocks," Jackie piped up.

Sharpening her focus on the image, Rose felt the vague sense of dread she'd been feeling since the Doctor had said something was coming solidify into a heavy ball in the pit of her stomach. "That's not rocks," she said dully.

The four of them were now all watching the news apprehensively. A BBC reporter spoke over the image coming in from the space probe. "Coming live from the depths of space on Christmas morning…"

Suddenly, the blurs and shakes ceased and the image was thrown into sharp clarity. The alien face was now unmistakable, and when it roared viciously Rose, Jackie, Mickey, and even Jack jumped backwards in surprise.

"I think the sharks are here," Rose said quietly.

On the news, the BBC had quickly cut back to a shot of their studio, but the anchors and staff clearly had no idea how to react or what to say in response to the video they'd just seen. There was a flurry of activity as staffers rushed through the studio behind the anchors and in front of them. The anchors' microphones picked up offstage chatter and the occasional shout or sob.

Jack got to his feet and shut the television off resolutely. "All right," he said, "we're not going to get any more worthwhile information from that for a while. Let's stay calm." He focused on Mickey. "Mickey, how are your hacking skills?"

Mickey grinned proudly. "You won't find better," he said boastfully.

Rose smiled slightly. "He likes to brag, but we tolerate it because he is actually quite good with the computers," she explained to Jack.

"Right. In that case," he said to Mickey, "get into as many government communication networks as you can. Focus on British, but if you can get into UNIT or NATO, that can't hurt."

"Aye aye, Captain," Mickey said, giving Jack a loose salute.

Rose and Jack shared a good-natured eyeroll as Mickey went into hacker mode, hunched over his laptop and typing furiously.

"Rose," Jack continued. "Stay with the Doctor. He'll probably do better with you close by anyway, and if he wakes up again, even if it's just for a minute, you can see if you can coax any advice out of him."

Rose nodded. "Will do," she said softly. "What are you gonna do?"

"I'm going to go back to the TARDIS, see if there's anything in the data banks or the library that can help us." He shrugged. "It would be easier if we knew what they were, but I don't recognize them. Still, the TARDIS might be paying attention. Maybe she'll bring something to my attention."

Rose managed a small smile. "Good luck. You've got that mobile I got you in Cardiff, yeah?"

Jack patted his pocket. "Charged and ready."

"Come back as soon as you find something," Rose instructed him firmly. "And maybe call in an hour to check in, okay?"

"I'll keep you updated. You call me if there's any change with the Doctor, or if Mickey finds out something useful."

"Of course."

Behind Jack and Rose, Jackie cleared her throat. "And what should I do?" she asked pointedly.

Rose and Jack shared a glance before Rose spoke. "Mum, you should make more tea. And maybe some soup. I think it's going to be a long night."

Jackie gazed steadily at Rose for a moment, as if trying to decide if Rose were brushing her off or not. Finally, having either decided Rose really wanted some soup or that she'd rather be given kitchen duty than any other world-saving task she might otherwise get assigned, she nodded. "All right," she said. "We've got chicken or tomato soup in the cupboard. Any preferences?"

Rose smiled and shook her head. "Dealer's choice, Mum."

She turned to go into the kitchen and Jack and Rose headed towards the room where the Doctor lay in his healing coma. They paused at the door, and Rose stepped partially in the room before turning back to Jack.

"Be careful," she said. "We can't know for sure that all those pilot fish Santa things are gone, and who knows what those aliens on TV will do if they pick up on the energy the Doctor's giving off, or if they somehow pick up on the TARDIS…"

Jack leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss to Rose's forehead. "I'll be fine," he said. "And if all else fails, we can hole up in the TARDIS until the Doctor's better. Once we lock those doors-"

"I know, I know," Rose said. "The assembled hoards of Genghis Khan couldn't get through 'em."

Jack chuckled. "Exactly. We'll get through this. And then you and I and the Doctor are going to visit some resort planet somewhere for some well-deserved rest and relaxation. I had a friend at the Time Agency who told me about this one resort planet, made all out of diamond."

"Sounds expensive," Rose said with a smile. "Good thing we never seem to need money."

Jack grinned. "That's the spirit. I'll talk to you soon," he added over his shoulder as he headed towards the front door of the flat.

"Bye, Jack," Rose said, trying to keep from sounding worried or sad.

With measured steps she made her way to the Doctor's bedside. He was still restless and sweaty. She picked up the abandoned piece of flannel and, skirting around the end of the bed, climbed back up on the other side of it until she was once again kneeling next to the Doctor.

"You said you changed your face so you wouldn't die," she said softly. "What's the point of changing your face if you go and die anyway, hmm? Tell me that, Doctor." She sighed and gently mopped his brow. "Wake up and explain yourself, Doctor." She took his hand, which she noted was less cold than it usually was, in her own. "It's Christmas," she whispered. "You can't die on Christmas. I'll never forgive you if you do, you daft alien."

The shades were drawn on the room's windows, so when Rose's gaze naturally went to them she was unable to look up into the sky. It wouldn't matter anyway, she told herself. Whatever was coming for them was still in space, miles and miles and miles away. She wouldn't be able to see its approach.

She felt helpless, sitting there on the bed with nothing with which to help the Doctor besides a damp square of flannel and whatever comfort he might get from the touch of her hand. She hated feeling so helpless.

Her vague memories of the hours before she woke up on the TARDIS just in time for the Doctor to explode were starting to reform and solidify. The hopelessness she was feeling in that moment had her flashing on sitting in a chip shop around the corner with her mum and Mickey. They were having an inane conversation about some new pizza place (only her mum, she thought with a wry smile, would ask what kind of food a pizza place was selling), and Rose felt suddenly overwhelmed with helplessness, to the point where she could only make something happen

She could see herself slamming her hands on the table, yelling at her mum and Mickey, and running out of the shop. Try as she might, however, she couldn't remember what happened next. Or, for that matter, precisely how she'd ended up there in the first place, instead of fighting Daleks with Jack and the Doctor.

"You," she said, squeezing the Doctor's hand, "have a hell of a lot of explaining to do, mister. Don't think you can get out of it just because your regeneration or whatever isn't going smoothly. You can't get off the hook that easily."

The Doctor stirred restlessly.

"I'll tell you a secret, though," Rose added softly. "I'm probably going to forgive you."

Maybe she was imagining things because she wanted them so desperately, but Rose thought that just maybe, the Doctor settled a little in response to her words. Allowing herself a tiny hint of a smile, she wiped his brow again.

Author's Note: Apologies for the delay in posting this chapter (I've been aiming for a Sunday/Wednesday posting schedule); I spent all day Wednesday in bed with a migraine. This is even less fun than it sounds. But the wee hours of Thursday morning is almost the same thing as Wednesday, right?