11 Reasons He had Lied to Himself

Chapter Five: She Held Him, and He was Home

He sighs and looks down, accepting the Face of Boe's words even as he pushes them to the back of his mind. He doesn't dwell on the enigma – this new him doesn't really dwell on anything. He just rushes into the next matter at hand – Cassandra, this time around. The self-proclaimed 'last human'. The misanthropic nutter who decided to take up residence in Rose's body. The one who's killing Rose. But, right now, isn't that more important? Especially when there's nothing he can do over the Face of Boe's perplexing message?

"And now for you," he says, slapping his hands on his thighs as he turns and stands. Cassandra jumps, and a part of his mind takes a bit of satisfaction in her shock. Good. Scare her – she deserves it.

"But…everything's happy," she says, hugging her…Rose's arms and shifting slightly. Nervous – double good. He wants her to fear him; she's already proved herself hostile, and now she's threatened Rose. He'd said no second chances – he won't even begin to entertain the idea of a third, especially for her. She doesn't deserve it, not after everything she's done and is now doing to Rose. "Everything's fine – can't you just…leave me?"

But he hears what she's really asking. Can't you just leave her? Can't you just leave Rose?

Can't you just let her die?

But that's her way of doing things – not his. Never his. And not with Rose.

It's Rose in front of him – her body – but it's not her voice. Not her personality. Not her Everything about her is wrong, and he can't help but think back on the Bad Wolf – but this is Cassandra, not some ancient being of the Time Vortex, and Rose hasn't chosen this.

And he won't lose her, not after Satellite Five. Not after he died to save her. Not after he…

Blimey, even when he was angry and thinking this new him had a gob!

"You've lived long enough," he says, but he doesn't even try to be compassionate. He doesn't care, and he lets her know; he won't comfort her through this. Not after what she's done to the humans. Not after what she's done to Rose. "Leave that body and end it, Cassandra."

She raises Rose's hand to Rose's face and chokes on a sob, and for a moment he can almost forget that it's Cassandra crying in front of him instead of Rose. His gut twists in that painful way it did every time the last him had seen her cry, and he has to force himself to keep from reaching out to her. It's not Rose. It's Cassandra, and she doesn't deserve his care.

"I don't want to die," she whines, and he bites back the snarl. With every word and every action she just proves that she is without a doubt not Rose – could never be Rose, not the amazing human girl who had wielded the Time Vortex like it wasn't the most powerful thing in existence. Not the amazing human girl who had made the Dalek Emperor quake in fear. Not the amazing human girl who had reduced one of the mightiest races ever to no more than dust in time. Rose is strong; she wouldn't be sniveling before him in someone else's body, fighting the inevitable. She'd embrace it – she'd rush at it head-first. Just another adventure.

Rose cares. Funny how Cassandra can only care when it's her life in the balance.

She's not Rose, and she needs to leave.

"No one does," he says, looking up as he rolls his eyes. Again he doesn't care that he sounds exasperated with her. He is – why shouldn't she be aware of it?

"Help me!" she whines, and he looks away in frustration. So many times he's nearly lost Rose through their adventures, and he thinks that maybe this is worse: having her body standing before him with someone so blatantly not Rose whining at him. It's unfair, it's mocking, and it's grating on his last nerve.

"I can't," he says, and she sobs again. Patience isn't something the new him has a clear concept of, but he's trying. He has to – for Rose. If he loses it…well, who knows what Cassandra would do then.

And he's not going to lose Rose because of a narcissistic skin tack.

'Bitchy Trampoline' – isn't that what Rose called her the first time they met?

Well, it certainly did fit – even if she wasn't quite a trampoline at the moment…

"Mistress!"

He looks with her to the curtains of the room, where a patient is running towards them. No…not a patient – Chip, wasn't it? That man that was with Cassandra earlier – her servant. He's surprised to see him; not so much because he survived, but because he came back. Cassandra was willing to leave him – abandon him to death, even when he had tried to go back for him. And yet, despite that, here he was, still obedient.

He may be a 'clone thing', and he may only have a half-life, but in that instant he realizes that Chip is more human than Cassandra could ever be – has ever been.

"Oh, you're alive!" Cassandra gasps, and he can't decide if she's shocked or relieved – or maybe even disgusted. Probably a fair mix of all three.

"I kept myself alive – for you, Mistress," Chip says, smiling at her like some love-sick, teenaged boy. It's surprising, how loyal he is – but maybe that's just another thing that shows how brilliantly human he is. Even for a non-human.

"A body…" Cassandra starts, and his jaw tightens as he glances between her and Chip. It clicks into his mind, what she's thinking, and something flares inside of him. After all this, and she's still the same old Cassandra – still willing to kill in order to get what she wants. "And not just that – a volunteer!"

"Don't you dare – he's got a life of his own!" he shouts, pointing at her. Rose would never forgive him if he let Cassandra do this; Rose wouldn't want her freedom back if it meant another life. She cares too much about people for that.

"But I worship the Mistress!" Chip says, catching his eye, and he has to pause.

"I want you safe. My Doctor."

It's like a blow to the gut as he remembers, and suddenly he can't find the words to argue. Chip cares about Cassandra, regardless of her actions. He cares about her because she is, and in that sense he's so much like Rose. He can see her in him in that instant, and he can't argue. Chip is willing to die for Cassandra – just like Rose was willing to die for him. And though he knows it's wrong – though he wants to talk him out of it – he can't find his voice.

Can he really let him do this? Let them?

…will he?

He almost misses the wink Cassandra gives him, and he knows that nothing he says will matter. They've both made up their minds.

"I welcome her," Chip says – reverently, and it snaps him out of his stupor. This is wrong. This isn't the same as Rose absorbing…this is wrong!

"You can't, Cassandra! You –" he shouts at her, but it's too late. Rose's eyes roll back into her head as her body sags back, and he throws his hands to his head as the light that is Cassandra sling-shots out of Rose's body, jerking her forward. He steps back, groaning at how difficult they're being – but no sooner is the light inside Chip than she falls, and he's lunging forward to catch her – to catch Rose.

"Are you all right?" he asks when he feels her hands grab his arms, and he almost smiles at the way her grip tightens on him. It's almost easy to brush aside the thought that she's just supporting herself – to think that maybe she needs that extra squeeze to confirm that she's really there and he's really real, that extra reassurance to let herself know she's alive. That maybe he's enough to let her know it's all ok now.

She doesn't answer him, pausing as she gasps and reorients herself. He sees her eyes fluttering beneath her lashes, and he wonders if she really is all right. Her grip on his arms loosen and she starts to take a step back, and for a moment he thinks that she's fine.

And then she stumbles, and he's leaping forward with a "Woah!" to catch her as again her eyes roll back into her head. He pulls her closer, that unexplainable fear still gnawing at him, and her head flops against his shoulder. The storm – the fury- is still simmering just below the surface in his mind, and as she doesn't answer he swears Cassandra will pay if Rose…

"Are you ok?" he asks, shoving the thought from his mind. He won't let himself think it – not this soon after he almost had. He can't think it. She gasps as she comes back to herself, and he lets himself take that breath he hasn't realized he's been holding. Jeopardy-friendly – isn't that what the last him had called her? New New Doctor, and she's still proving herself to be the same old Rose – even down to the daily hearts attack she enjoys giving him.

"Yeah," she breaths, and she steps back – but only slightly, just enough to stand on her own. Really, it's more of a lean; she's just leaning away from him, and she's still close…but he finds himself wishing she hadn't, even if it does show that she's feeling at least a little better. He liked having her against him like that. But she's still close, and she's still clutching his arms – still holding him a bit tighter than is necessary, but he doesn't complain – can't complain. She lets out a breath, and that nervous look melts into her smile – his smile, he likes to think.

"Hello," she says, and his lips tug upward as she laughs – it's weak, but it's still a laugh. He lets the relief wash over him like a flood, and as she squeezes his arms he fights the urge to crush her to him and spin her around – but maybe, he thinks, she wouldn't really mind.

"You're so different."

Isn't he, though? New New Doctor – but some things haven't changed at all, and he can see it in her smile and feel it in her arms and hear it in her laugh. Everything changes during regeneration, but not this – not this time. He hadn't wanted to admit it, but after today – after nearly losing her again so soon after Bad Wolf – he finds he has no other choice.

She's still Rose, and she's still got him completely and utterly under her spell. He still thinks of her as his – still lo…no. Impossible. Time Lords don't…they're above that. He's above that.

Last time was weakness – disoriented insanity brought about by a regenerative fever. He didn't really mean…no, not that.

But he can't deny that she's special, and he can't deny that he cares. Maybe more than he should, but he does care.

He'll admit that much. Has to, really – after the run-around today's been, how can he not?

"Oh, I love this! Can I just say…traveling with you? I love it."

She really is something special, his Rose. And maybe someday he can tell her that – when she's not still shaken from the possession, when everything's settled and calm and good between them…he thinks she might like to hear it.

Not "I love you", mind – not the insanity the last him wanted to tell her. Just…he cares. And she's special.

Brilliant, really…

And then it hits him, like another tidal wave washing past his relief to consume him – for the first time since the War, he's at peace. For the first time since Gallifrey burned, he feels…safe. Content. Like he's home, even though it's been lost. And he remembers the first time he really saw her, staring down at him in that burning factory, and he remembers his fear of her – but there's no fear this time. She's home – his home – and he can admit it without fear. Because it's true. Because it's right.

Because she's his Rose, and he's her new new Doctor, and everything really is ok.

Even if, y'know, he doesn't love her. 'Cause he doesn't. Nope, not at all…

"Hello," he tells her, relaxing his arms but still not letting her go. He doesn't think he can now – not ever again. He smiles at her, completely relaxed and comfortable and perfectly content to just stand there holding her. To just stand there with her holding him. Funny how the only time this new body seems content to stand still is when she's touching him…

His throat catches for just a moment, and he's not sure what to say.

"You're completely mad – I can see why she likes you…"

And he almost rethinks it – almost admits that the last him was right and he did love her and still does and Rassilon he just wants to snog her again and have her hair looking disheveled because he's been raking his fingers through it and why doesn't he just tell her she's driving him mad and –

NO.

He's a Time Lord, and Time Lords don't fall in love – especially with humans.

No matter how brilliant they are. It's just impossible.

So he blinks, giving her an extra squeeze for good measure, and shoves away every irrational thought surging through his head. He pushes them back and drags out two words – simple, succinct, and undeniably true. Just two words to relay to her his joy, and even though the brevity surprises this gobby him, he finds they work, and that'll do. For now.

"Welcome back."

A.n.: Ok, y'all…to be frank, I had this "finished" a few days ago. And then I realized what I wrote totally contradicted the idea of this story, and it had to be rewritten. Dx

BUT: I do really like what I originally wrote, so I went and uploaded it on Wishfics as an alternate ending! If you want to see what it originally was (and see why I couldn't use it), follow this link (you know the drill – remove spaces 'n such):

wishfics DOT livejournal DOT com SLASH 20370 DOT html

Anyway, I'm gonna miss writing Nine, but Ten is utterly adorkable and a total blast to write, too. That being said, hope y'all enjoyed this one, and I hope it was a bit more light-hearted and cheery than the last chap. Oh yeah – and theme was "Hug / Glomp / Embrace" from Table 5.