The Doctor rested his hands over the central console and closed his eyes, concentrating on the low hum of his ship. She was aware of each part of her body, and with a little bit of focus and subtle direction, she could locate any living creature within her vast structure.

The Doctor's eyes shot open, and he shook his head. "What the hell are you doing in there?" he muttered, already hastening toward the corridor.

Rose lay curled in a ball, pressed up against the cool wall of the vault. There was little light within the chamber; a thin, dull streak hovered just beneath the door, but it provided scant illumination. Even so, her vision had changed; everything appeared to have a greenish haze clinging to it.

She was still shuddering, and now hair covered her eyes. The prickling sting across her skin had relented, finally, but pain was building in her temples and behind her eyes. Her heart was changing, too. The beat was strangely erratic yet insistently strong; she felt the organ thudding against her ribs, and she could hear the thumping reverberating through the vault.

But secreted away in here, she could keep the Doctor safe. She might thrash and crash about, howl and roar, but she would be contained within these walls. That knowledge gave her a small degree of comfort, and the terrible tightness in her chest eased just a bit.

"Rose?"

The word startled her as though it were a shot. She jerked and gasped in alarm, eyes automatically drawn to the thin stream of light beneath the door. The beam was broken now, something preventing all the light from reaching through the crack.

"Rose? Are you in there?" The Doctor's voice was louder. Something tapped at the door. "Rose?" He sounded more insistent now.

Her breathing became ragged, and her heart pounded fiercely. How had he found her? Didn't he understand that she presented a dreadful danger to him? She had to make him leave, get as far from her as possible... protect him from the wolf.

The door handle wiggled, but the lock prevented it from opening. "Rose! Can you hear me?"

"Go away," she gasped out.

"Rose? What are you doing in there?"

"Jus'—you have to get out, go away."

"Can you get to the lock?"

"No. Jus' leave. Please. Now."

"Rose, I'm sorry I left you alone. I didn't realise you'd wake…"

"Go away!" she repeated urgently. "Get the hell away from me!"

She heard a whirring, a high-pitched noise that hurt her ears for just an instant, and then the lock clicked. The door was swinging open.

Rose hauled herself to her feet and scrabbled back against the far wall. Light flooded the vault, and then the Doctor was moving toward her, arms outstretched. "It's all right," he was saying, "I didn't mean to—"

"No! Don't come near me!" she panted, fingers scraping against the wall.

But he wouldn't listen; he was close enough to touch her now, and one hand reached for her arm. She flinched at the touch of his cool skin.

"Please," she sobbed, trying to gulp in air that refused to enter her lungs, "I don't want to hurt you."

He froze and dropped his hand, brow furrowing in confusion. "Hurt me? Rose, what are you talking about?"

"I can't stop it," she wheezed. "It didn't work—I'm sorry, maybe it was me, maybe I wasn't strong enough—but I'm changin', an' I won't be able to stop myself, won't know what I'm doin' anymore, so you have to get away, as far away as you can, because the wolf will kill you—" She could barely speak; the words rasped from her tightened throat.

But he understood them. Slowly he lifted his hand again to wrap it gently around her arm.

"Rose, look at me," he instructed, his voice firm yet soft, and her gaze moved inexorably to his face. His eyes held hers. Vaguely she felt something press against her chest. "You need to breathe, Rose," he said. "I want you to breathe with me, though your nose, not your mouth. In," he nodded, "now out. In," she heard him inhale, "now out," then he exhaled. Automatically her body copied his actions.

When her breathing had steadied, he moved the hand he'd rested over her chest up to brush the hair away from her eyes and cup her cheek, keeping a gentle grip on her arm all the while.

"You're not changing, Rose," he told her. "The vaccine worked just as it was intended."

She shook her head. "I felt it," she croaked. "My skin was transformin', an' I was growin' hair, an' my nails were becomin' claws—"

"No," he said, keeping her gaze, "that was just the illness."

Rose's eyes felt hot and wet. She blinked. "Are you sure?" she whispered.

"Yes."

She saw the truth in the depth of his gaze. The fear drained from her, leaving her to sag against him. He held her steadily then lifted her into his arms. She was exhausted, and she permitted her head to loll against his chest as he carried her out of the vault and back to her room.

The Doctor placed Rose on the bed. Her eyes were half closed, and her body was limp. He settled her head against the pillow, resting his hand over her forehead. Her temperature was still higher than he liked, but it hadn't increased significantly since her little trip to the vault. He supposed that was a good sign.

He checked her heart again and found that the rhythm remained stable—quite a feat considering the emotional turmoil she'd just experienced. The device he'd used on her had proven effective, of course, and he hadn't left the infirmary until he was certain that her heart was beating normally. But still, he was relieved that the effects appeared permanent.

He was just pulling the covers over her when he noticed the red streaks peeking out from beneath the hem of her camisole. The little garment had ridden up at some point, and the pale skin between her hipbone and ribcage was exposed. He slid the camisole up to reveal several scratches. His eyes moved over her body, and he found more scratches on her forearms.

Oh, he'd been an idiot—a complete git—to leave her alone like that. She hadn't needed tea; she had needed him.

He ran his fingers gently over the scrapes on her belly. She wriggled a bit and began to open her eyes.

Quickly he rested his fingertips against her temple. "Sleep, Rose," he said.

She sighed, and her eyes closed. He hurried to the infirmary to retrieve the regenerative gel. He smoothed it over the scratches on her arms then rubbed gently at the dark marks marring the pale flesh on her stomach. As the redness began to fade, he tucked the blankets around her then bent to kiss her warm forehead.

"Sweet dreams, Rose," he told her. "Only the loveliest ones for you."

The story will be fully concluded in the Epilogue.