A/N: They just HAD to age him, didn't they?!

I just wrote this, so apologies for non proofread and bad grammar, but I suppose that's what I'm notorious for. I'm trying to write lots of stuff tonight.

Oh, and sorry. Really. I am.

Chapter 3 – Test Of Strength

The room they were in was lapsed in darkness, save for a single white streak of light illuminating another folded piece of paper set carefully in the middle of the floor.

The Doctor's face was set, hard and unforgiving. "Either somebody's playing with their food, we're having a freak joint dream, this is someone having some kind of sick twisted joke or…" he trailed off, not really wanting to think about it. Rose chose not to venture into the other possibility. She could only watch as the Doctor stepped forward towards the next piece of paper, and took it in hand. A single 'R', this time.

This Doctor, is a test of strength,

A position you must reverse.

But just how far can you pull,

Before Rose Tyler is immersed?

The instant he finished it, the single light faded to blackness. He was alert immediately, the words on the paper suddenly ringing inside his head as he slipped it in his pocket.

"Rose!" he called, arms outstretched. "Rose!" Nothing. "Rose? Where are you?! Answer me!"

He felt no pressure on him but suddenly he knew he was in a difficult spot. There was only complete darkness and that must have somehow impaired his senses in that he was suddenly lying on the floor, his wrists heavy and cold, eyes wide open but he couldn't control them.

The lights came back on.

And the situation was even worse than he had anticipated.

His eyes were staring straight at Rose, who was staring right back. All she could see was his wide open eyes and the blood still on his shirt from the zombie fight – but she had no way of telling whether that blood was one hundred percent zombie or fifty percent Doctor. His arms were chained to the floor, held rigid in firm looking cuffs. He looked…dead.

"Doctor!" he heard Rose call desperately from the other side of the room but ten metres from where he was lying, though her voice was echoed due to the fact she was standing in a large lid topped tank; it was impossible for her to get out without help. Between him and the tank were skeletons strewn out, all evidently corroded by time – but the important thing was, they were all chained at the wrists by the same type of metal. She must have been terrified. "Oh God Doctor, please don't be a corpse!"

"No, no, I'm fine, I'm here…"

She breathed a mighty sigh of ultimate relief, suddenly dejected. "I thought you were…" she just about stopped herself from uttering her next word. Instead, she glanced around the glass box she seemed to be standing in, edgy. "Doctor, I am really not likin' this!"

The Doctor tried to get up, managing to force himself to crouching position since the chains prevented him moving any further. He gave a small, half-hearted tug on the restraints, but discovered to his dismay – but not to his surprise – that he'd need much more of a pull to get them free.

"I think I'd prefer being stuck with the zombie," he voiced as a little hope for some comic relief.

"Me…" Rose was suddenly interrupted by the sound of cascading water from above her, falling down and splashing on the floor of the tank.

The words on the paper now made so much more sense.

This Doctor, is a test of strength,

A position you must reverse.

But just how far can you pull

Before Rose Tyler is immersed?

"Rose! Hold on!" he said as the full immensity of the situation hit him. "Hold on, I'm coming! Just…stay still!"

"Am I likely to go anywhere?" Rose asked vaguely, watching the water fall into the tank at her feet. It was at her ankles now. "Doctor!"

He had his teeth gritted, trying so hard to pull on the chains that kept him from saving Rose. He put his entire weight on it plus a little more, shouting with the effort and the pain rippling throughout his entire body.

"Doctor! Get me out of here or my mum will slap you!" Rose yelled, the water rising rapidly now, past her knees.

The driven in metal was coming a little. Visibly it had moved about an inch. This was no good; he'd never be able to do it…

But he had to. This was totally unfair, obscene. Why did he deserve this? Actually scratch that last question. Why did Rose deserve this? Was she just the pawn in this little game of torture?

"Help me!" The water was halfway up her chest now. "Help me please!"

The Doctor yelled with the pain, watching only the metal in the floor as it slowly began to edge out with the pressure. With one last tug, the metal pinged out of its slot – and it was finally free.

"Hold on!" he shouted again, risking a glance up at Rose. She was within seconds of taking her last breath, her neck straining to its full capability to keep her mouth out of the water. "I'll save you!"

"Doctor…" came her last, desperate cry before she was entirely immersed, the water rapidly making its way even further up the tank.

He pulled so desperately on the second chain, not even risking a glance at Rose for fear that it would weaken him.

"COME ON!" he screamed, teeth gritted as he leant back on the chain, the cuff now imprinting into his skin – but he didn't care. He could take the pain as long as Rose was still in danger.

After what seemed like hours the metal was finally out of the concrete slab it had been driven into, and he was on his feet in an instant.

"Rose!!!" he called desperately, tearing it over to the tank with his metal chains swinging around his side from where they were still hanging around his wrists. He reached the sealed tank, not even stopping to think with sense before he swung the chains through the force of his arms, hitting the pane of glass, completely shattering it. Water immediately cascaded onto him with tremendous force, throwing him instantly off of his feet and flying backwards towards the door they had only just come through.

"Rose!" he gasped, eyes closed but hands outstretched to the nothingness, just about catching a piece of clothing as he flew into his grip. The weight dragged him to the side onto a wreckage of wooden furniture piled high with wood wormed chairs, Rose at his side as the water washed back sway towards the tank.

He rolled over in an instant, his brown eyes quickly searching her face for any kind of life, a twitch in her eyes, her chest rising and falling with intakes of breath…

His hand rested on her abdomen as he cradled her head with his other.

"Rose…c'mon Rose…don't leave me…c'mon…"

She wasn't stirring.

With his breath caught in his throat, he slowly brought up his hand from her abdomen to her neck – looking desperately for a pulse.

"Please Rose…come back…"

He searched everywhere over her neck for that strong beat against his fingers – trying so hard to believe she was still alive, to cling on to that last morsel of hope.

"Rose if you don't come back we won't be able to have chips again…" he was aware what had just came out of his mouth was more to do with the fact he was in pure, undivided shock rather than common sense. He pulled her down from the pile of wooden chairs to the flat floor below, only at inch deep in water. He hovered his cheek over her mouth and cast his eye line down her chest.

She wasn't breathing.

With determination he lifted her up onto her feet, feeling her head resting against his chest limply, which only escalated his dread and fear.

He linked his arms around her stomach, intending to do the Heimlich Manoeuvre to try and clear the airway. He was only glad Jackie wasn't around screaming at him that he was attempting to shag her daughter. He braced himself, for what he was about to do, before roughly jerking his hands upwards to her ribs.

Water immediately came pouring out of her mouth, so he tried it again. And again. By the time the water was no longer coming out of her mouth, the Doctor was convinced her lungs had been practically made of water.

But he was getting no reaction.

He gently laid her back down again onto the floor, refusing to give up.

"Rose! Don't give up on me! I know you're strong!"

He rested his hands together on her chest were her heart rested inside, pressing down her ribs in the beginnings of CPR. One…two…three…four…five… He reached up to her face, pinching her nose and tilting her head back before taking in a huge breath, lowering his head and pressing his lips to hers, ejecting a breath of air.

"Please Rose…" he whined, "please…don't…please…"

Second kiss of life, then it was back to the chest compressions. He felt strangely helpless as he got no noticeable reaction from her, and even still ten minutes later he was trying to get her to breathe.

He couldn't do anything.

Rose Tyler was dead.

The enormity of it still hadn't hit him and he was denying it, trying to convince himself she was just unconscious. But it was useless.

Forcing the tears back, determined not let whoever had done this see him wounded; he could do nothing but stare at her pale, soaked face, cursing himself for what had happened. This was entirely his fault. If only he'd been quicker…saved her…

He almost gave up there and then.

Here lies the Doctor,

A most worthy of foes.

But fell to the darkness,

When he lost his Rose.

Somebody had planned this. Someone had known this would happen.

Someone had committed murder here. Willingly. Knowingly. But he wasn't about to submit to their sick, sick game. He wasn't going to stand for this. He was going to find whoever did this and they were going to pay.

…But what was he going to tell Jackie? Mickey? He couldn't leave her dead body here, at any rate. He'd have to get out of here with her, take her back to them. It was the least he could do.

He quickly took off his remotely dry jacket, wrapping her soaked body in it as he picked her up in both arms.

"I'll get you out," he said out loud. "I'll get back. I'll find a way."

He held her tight to him and made his way through the next door, determined to beat whatever was on the other side.