And slowly I tie up all the loose ends...there is one more chapter after this one till the end. Thanks for reviewing!

In The Windmills Of Her Mind

Chapter Nineteen

As the images unwind like the circles that you find, in the windmills of your mind…

As Rose raised her eyes she caught sight of a skeletal figure attached to a wall. She could see thin hair resting on the scalp of a skull like face, she could see frail fingers reaching out for something it could not reach, and she could see a blood stained suit hanging off the figure.

She pulled herself across the cold floor, her frail skeleton bumping over the stones as she continued, the only thing keeping her going was the hope that she wasn't too late. As she pulled herself across the floor she could see his trademark Converses stained with deep crimson blood. She crawled and crawled until she finally rested at his feet, she raised her feeble hands to his legs where the skin hung off him like a cloth over a table. She traced the skeletons of his legs, raising her hands until she reached his waist. Slowly she pulled herself up, slowly releasing gasps of pain as she brought herself to her broken feet.

Then she stood before him once again. So much time had passed and so much pain had been endured, yet everything was still the same. She raised one shaking bandaged hand and traced it gently down his cheek, her tender fingers sinking into the hollow cheekbones of his face. His hair was matted to his forehead by dried blood which easily fell apart as Rose dragged her fingers through it.

One hand rested on the cheek of his pale lifeless face and her other hand sunk until it rested gently upon the thin bones of his hand. She laced her fingers within his until their grasp was reunited, she gently stroked his cheek, her hands soft against the rough skin of scabs. Then she leant her forehead against his, her cold breaths falling onto his face as her lips hovered moments above his

'Doctor' she whispered, her voice hoarse as she choked,

'Doctor…I never let go' she whispered as she squeezed his hand.

'I never let go' she choked as tears finally over took her, they rolled steadily over her cheeks – the salty marks stinging her wounds as she wept. It was the first time she had cried since she had awoken without her memory, and she wept heavily against his shoulder willing him to survive.

'I never let go' she barely whispered into his ear as her tears stained his face, mixing with his blood as they fell to the floor.

As she cried into him – returning to the lost lonely girl she was – she felt a movement beneath her. She felt the dead bones return to life as they trembled at the soft caress upon his abandoned skin, his fingers stroked hers ever so slowly as she raised her head from his broken shoulder.

Tears blurred her vision until she had blinked them down her cheeks, then her eyes could focus upon the empty brown gaze that rested upon her face. She saw his lips try to move but she shook her head at him, he winced but never tore his eyes off of her. She smiled gently at him, her hands running swiftly along his face

'Rose' he finally choked – she released as sob as he whispered her name. Her head fell against his as they whispered each others names

'Doctor' she wept gently as their hands intertwined – her gripped her tightly as though he were afraid she was about to slip away from him. She shook her head gently at him this time

'I'm not going anywhere' she promised as she traced the lines of war on his face. He smiled at her, barley able to make out her face amongst the black dots that wrecked his vision.

Her hands fell swiftly to the locks that held him as her world began to spin around; she blinked rapidly and pulled at the locks that had been withered by the flames. She cried out as she used her last moment of strength to pull them open, finally they pulled apart, the heaving metal of his chains falling to the floor and echoing heavily throughout the empty torture chambers.

Rose fell to the floor with the chains, she couldn't force herself to stand – she didn't have the strength left, she'd been fighting too long. The Doctor pulled himself away from the wall – falling to the floor instantly on his weakened legs. He lay alongside Rose on the floor, their hands intertwined as he watched her.

Then slowly he began to crawl across the floor, he ignored the failing organs within his skin, he ignored the blood that wept from him, he ignored the bones that made up his body which creaked and cracked in protest. He ignored it all as he pulled his Rose across the floor and towards the freedom they needed.

Slowly, inch by inch, they moved across the room. Their hands intertwined as each of them passed from consciousness to darkness and back again – each urging the other on as they prepared to give up, yet their hands remained intertwined, speaking all the words they were too tired to form.

They crawled until they reached the fresh grass wet with dew as it wiped upon their faces, the moved along the hillside, the dark grass marking them as the sun slowly awakened from its slumber watching over them.

Lying in another field a young man sat. He had his head rested back against the brick wall of a building, his red curls were flattened upon his head and his cheeks were stained with tears. His forgotten name badge reading 'Jacob' was discarded on the floor as he watched as the forgotten sun slowly rose over the hillside and began to shine down upon him. He closed his eyes as he tried to forget his political war – as he tried to forget the prisoners he had taken, the torture he had inflicted, the methods he had researched for. He tried to forget the government that force him to take people as they slept in their beds to become medical research…research which consisted of torture forms.

Yet there was one face that bore into his mind, the simple face of a lost, innocent girl framed by blonde hair. Her empty eyes staring into his soul as she turned away from him – she ignored revenged, she ignored pain and she ignored anger. He couldn't help but remember the love that shone in her eyes, backed by determination as she turned to the hills. The last image in his mind before he died was of the young girl, so sure to die, turning into the hills for one last chance.

And as he dropped the knife to the floor, and the last drop of blood fell from his body, he saw her face in his mind looking down at her – and he finally realized the true force of guilt. The guilt that killed him caused by the girl who was too willing to survive.