AN: And now, Rose wakes up, and we begin to see exactly how deeply her experience has affected her. Tell me what you think.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Warnings: Once again, this chapter may be triggering for some.

Darkness.

Everywhere, just cold, endless darkness.

She's clawing for a way out, but there is nothing to grab onto, just thin air. Her heart is strangling within her chest, furiously trying to beat it's way out of her chest, and she finds herself choking on her own lungs. She thinks she feels tears rolling down her cheeks, but she can't be sure. Muscles sore with the power of her desperate efforts, she cries out into the darkness, her screams going unheard.

Rose's eyes flew open. At first, she had no idea where she was. It was not the cold, white surroundings she was used to, but rather a room with soft lighting, the kind that made her want to curl up and go back to sleep. The bed was softer, too. It cushioned every part of her body, sapping the strength away from her muscles and making her go limp and malleable.

Trembles ripped violently through her body, cold like rats scampering up her spine, and suddenly she heard a voice.

"Rose!"

She looked to the left, and saw a very familiar face. "D-Doctor?" she whimpered, rubbing her eyes as if he was nothing more than a mirage. "Is that really you?"

"I'm here, Rose," he said gently, leaning over and brushing her hair out of her face. "It's alright. You're safe now."

Rose stared up at him, stunned by his presence. She reached out and touched his cheek, running her fingertips over the sharp cheekbones, counting each pale freckle along the way, then she ran her fingers through his hair, so thick and soft, the same hair as always. Tears simmered in the edges of her eyes, then they ran down her cheeks, hot and full of salt, drying up to form a crust on her skin.

"Doctor," she whimpered. "I thought you'd never find me."

The Doctor gathered her into a hug, cradling her head against his chest. He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head, rocking her in gentle motions as if she were an infant. "I'll always find you. I promise."

"I was so scared," she cried, recalling the seemingly endless hours spent pounding her fists against the door until they ached, screaming so loud that she went hoarse for days, being so desperate that she resorted to using her nails to scratch at her skin until she bled, just so that she could have something, anything to take her mind off of the horror of it all.

"You're safe," he whispered, pulling away and cupping her cheeks. "No one's going to hurt you, not anymore."

"All the time, Doctor," she sobbed. "All the time, they would come into my room and they would beat me. Or they'd give me these shots that'd make me hurt all over. It never stopped."

"It's stopped now," he said, his voice thickening with his own tears. "Whatever they did to you, I promise you, it will never happen again."

She nodded, feeling the rhythm of her heart slow down. The realization that she was safe, that it was real, was still settling in, like medicine seeping through her blood, slow but sure. Wiping away her tears, she smiled a weak, watery smile, but a smile nonetheless.

"I think... I think I wanna take a shower," she said, laughing bitterly. "Can't remember the last time I washed my hair. I must look so gross."

"I think you look beautiful," the Doctor replied, the words escaping him as if he'd never meant for them to leave his lips, breathless and light.

"Thanks," she said, climbing out of bed and biting her lip.

Hot water pelted against her back as the thick steam pressed into her skin. All the cuts and sore that were etched onto her body ached horrendously, but nonetheless she continued to shower, too elated by the long-forgotten sensation of a warm shower to care. She squeezed a lump of pink shower gel onto her hand and rubbed it against her entire body, the bubbles coating her skin in a sweet-smelling froth. The gel made her injuries hurt even more, but once again, she couldn't bring herself to care.

I'm free, she told herself. He found me. They're never gonna hurt me again. No matter how many times she told herself, she still couldn't believe it. When she'd first been captured, she'd been convinced that the Doctor would come and find her. She'd even fought back against the guards when they came to beat or rape her, even if it earned her more punishments. But eventually, as days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months, her faith in him began to wane. She stopped eating, just slept through all of her free time. She tried to convince herself that he was coming for her, that he'd just gotten the coordinates a little wrong, but still, she found her strength weakening as each day passed. Soon she stopped fighting back against the guards, letting them do as they pleased with her, just shutting her eyes against it and pretending she was somewhere else. She even let them spit on her and call her names, and soon she internalized the names they called her, treating them not as slurs but as facts. Her self-worth was practically nonexistent. She didn't care about anything anymore. To pass the time, she found herself scratching at her skin until she bled, and at one point, she even went as far as trying to cut her wrists in hope of killing herself.

Remembering the sickening sense of desperation, the desire to be anywhere but there, even if it meant death, made her stomach curl, and suddenly her elation was gone. She swallowed a hot, sharp gulp, and pressed her hand against the wall to steady herself. Tears ran down her cheeks, mingling with the water, but still, she knew all too well that she was crying.

No, she told herself. It's over. It's never gonna happen again.

The Doctor stirred the small pot of porridge, drizzling in some honey and sugar every once in a while (Rose always loved things that were obscenely sweet, and she was lucky he shared her sweet tooth). He knew her stomach would be weak from the slop she was forced to eat at that horrid prison, so he didn't want anything too heavy for her. He added some sliced strawberries and just a dash of cinnamon for some more flavor, then turned off the stove and scraped it into a bowl.

"Doctor," came Rose's voice, sounding much smaller and more fragile than he was used to.

He turned to see her standing in the doorway, donning sweat pants and a hoodie, her hair still messy and wet from her shower. She wore no makeup, but nonetheless he thought she looked radiant, even though her eyes were tired and her cheeks were puffy. He always thought his Rose looked beautiful.

"Rose!" he said, smiling. "I made you some porridge."

She nodded, taking a seat at the table. He placed the bowl down in front of her, then sat down across from her. She stirred her food with her spoon, but didn't take a bite, and immediately he worried about how much her experience had truly affected her.

"H-how long was I gone?" she asked, looking up from the bowl.

His stomach tightened at the question, but nonetheless he answered. "About seven months, give or take."

She nodded, pressing her lips together. "Oh, okay."

"No, it's not okay," his tone darkened. "You should never have been there in the first place. I should have known-"

"Doctor, you found me," she interrupted, forcing a wan smile. "I'm here, now. I'm safe. I don't want you to blame yourself for what happened."

"Rose, those people hurt you. They hurt you in the sickest, most evil ways they could invent, and you act like there's nothing wrong."

She whimpered as she tried to force down a sob, but nonetheless the tears came, like a flood breaking through a dam. "I just don't want you to go all Oncoming Storm on them. I just... Don't."

"Right," he said after a while. "I'm sorry, I just... To think of what they did to you, to all those people, it's just so wrong. It's evil, is what it is."

She reached over and gently grabbed his hand, as was so typical of Rose, thinking of others before herself. "It's okay," she said, tears in her eyes. "It's okay."