AN: If the end seems familiar, "What He Didn't Know" was an early version of this scene and I reused a few paragraphs from it.
Rose.
Rose pressed her face to the window, watching the sun set over the German countryside. It felt so good to have the Doctor in her head again, even if he was still too far away to actually talk to. The relentless headache that had started the moment the breach closed completely was gone.
Her fingers curled around the edge of the seat at the memory of the first few days in Pete's World. The pain from the broken bond had left her in a daze—she still didn't remember how she'd actually gotten from Torchwood to the mansion. But finally, she'd gotten used to it, had learned which pills would soften the pain to a dull ache she could work through.
The loneliness was harder to fight. Waking up every day, expecting the Doctor to be beside her. Reaching for his hand whenever she wanted to show him something.
Tears sprang to her eyes when she remembered the loneliest moment—looking at the two blue lines on the white stick that announced they were going to have a baby. If she could have had the Doctor with her for just one day out of the last three months, that's the day she would have chosen.
She sniffed and wiped the tears away. But I'm going home now, she reminded herself.
The road curved, and the sun disappeared entirely behind the hills in the distance. Rose glanced at the SatNav mounted on the dash, wondering how much further they had to go. The Doctor's voice got stronger with every mile, but she thought they were probably only about halfway there.
Rose.
I'm coming, Doctor, she told him, though she doubted he would be able to hear her. His telepathy was stronger than hers, and it had been three months since she'd practiced talking to him over their bond.
Tiredness hit her suddenly, as it had been doing for the last two months. "Keep going this way," she told Pete through a yawn. "I'm gonna sleep for a bit. Wake me up if we get to a crossroads."
Pete nodded, and Rose's mum patted her shoulder. "You rest, sweetheart. We'll wake you up if we need to."
Rose shifted in her seat until her neck and head were supported by the headrest. Then she rested a hand on her still-flat belly and let herself drift to sleep, imagining how the Doctor's face would light up when he found out they were having a baby.
oOoOoOoOo
Twelve hours later, Rose was on the edge of her seat as Pete drove the Jeep straight onto the Norwegian beach. As soon as she'd seen the first signs twenty miles back, she'd known where they were going. Dårlig Ulv Stranden—Bad Wolf Bay. A message to lead myself here, she remembered.
Rose's stomach gurgled uncomfortably as the vehicle lurched to a stop, and she took a few deep breaths and a sip of herbal tea before opening the door. She wanted to tell the Doctor she was pregnant; she didn't want him to find out when she threw up all over his Chucks.
The sea breeze blew her hair into her face as soon as she got out of the Jeep, and she was grateful her leather coat kept the wind from cutting through her. The surf pounded against the rocks behind her and seagulls cawed overhead, but those were the only sounds Rose heard as she walked across the wet sand.
Even the Doctor's telepathic voice had gone silent, and Rose stopped and stared at the ocean, rather than take a step in the wrong direction. She knew this was the right place, but seeing an empty beach instead of the Doctor with the TARDIS sent a shiver of trepidation down her back.
Her left hand clenched into a fist as she fought back her sudden fears, and her right rested on her stomach. Are you ready to meet your daddy, little one? she asked, refusing to believe the day would go any differently.
The air shifted around her, and Rose turned towards the disturbance, dropping her hand as she did. Her fears sharpened when she saw a holographic projection of the Doctor, instead of the Doctor himself.
"Where are you?" she asked, immediately hating how small and weak her voice sounded.
"Inside the TARDIS." The Doctor's voice echoed, as if it were coming over a poor mobile connection. "There's one tiny little gap in the universe left, just about to close."
He took a deep breath, the way he did when he was upset, and Rose clasped her hands in front of her as the truth became painfully clear. He hadn't found a way to bring her home after all.
"And it takes a lot of power to send this projection—I'm in orbit around a supernova." He paused and tried to smile at her, but she could feel his grief over the bond. "I'm burning up a sun just to say goodbye."
Rose stared at the hologram of her bondmate and shook her head. She heard his voice, but her heart struggled to accept the words.
"You look like a ghost," she told him, needing to say something so the word "goodbye" wasn't lingering on the air.
"Hold on." The Doctor pointed his sonic screwdriver at something Rose couldn't see.
Finally, he was standing in front of her, looking as real as possible. Rose crossed the remaining distance between them and reached for his face. "Can I—"
The Doctor shook his head and blinked back tears. "I'm still just an image, love," he told her, his voice raspy. "No touch."
Rose dropped her hand and nodded quickly, swallowing back the tears that threatened. "Can't you come through properly?" Maybe he couldn't bring her home, but if he could come through, they could build a life here—the two of them and their baby. She brushed her hand over her belly at the thought, holding her breath as she waited for his answer.
The muscle in the Doctor's jaw twitched. "I tried to find a way, Rose, but no matter what I did, two universes would collapse."
Rose reached up to smooth away the furrow between his brows before she remembered, no touch. In his voice, she could hear the long hours spent in the library, looking for a way to bring her home. The need to soothe his pain made her heart ache, and she had to press her lips together to hold back a whimper.
After they took a moment to compose themselves, the Doctor looked around, like he was checking out their surroundings. "Where are we? Where did the gap come out?"
Another gust of wind came up and blew Rose's hair in her face. She pushed it back, then answered the Doctor. "We're in Norway."
"Norway." The Doctor nodded. "Right."
Rose smiled at him. There was something so familiar and Doctor-ish about the way he pretended this was all going according to his plan. "About fifty miles out of Bergen," she elaborated. "It's called Dårlig Ulv Stranden."
The Doctor's eyes went wide, and he reached out as if to shield her, before he remembered he was just a projection. "Dalek?" he asked, his voice sharp and fearful.
"Dårlig," Rose repeated, enunciating the g. "It's Norwegian for 'bad.' This translates as Bad Wolf Bay."
They shared another pained smile. How could she have seen everything, and only given them a way to say goodbye? What was the point of being a goddess of Time if you couldn't bend reality to your will?
Rose clamped down on her bitterness and asked the most important question. "How long have we got?"
The Doctor's Adam's apple bobbed. "About two minutes."
A sob caught in Rose's throat. She'd been so certain when she heard his voice that she was going home, and instead they only had time for the briefest goodbye.
But if they only had two minutes, she wouldn't waste it talking about things that didn't matter. "I love you," she told the Doctor, keeping her voice as steady as possible.
"Oh, Rose." The Doctor's hands flexed at his sides, and the muscle in his jaw worked. "I love you, too."
"Am I ever going to see you again?"
"You can't, love," he whispered, and she saw tears glistening in his eyes.
Rose closed her eyes and ran her hand through her hair as she considered her next words. This was not how she'd planned to tell the Doctor he was going to be a father, but who knew how long it would take her to find a way across the Void?
"I see the whole family came," the Doctor said after a brief pause.
Rose smiled. He couldn't have given her a better opening. "There's five of us now," she told him. "Mum, Dad, Mickey… and the baby."
"You're not…?"
Even though their bond was weak, separated as they still were by the Void, the Doctor's devastation was strong enough to push its way across dimensions. Rose gasped when it washed over her, and in an instant, she knew what she had to do.
She licked her lips, then pasted a smile on her face and shook her head. "No." Rose attempted a laugh. "It's Mum. She's three months gone. More Tylers on the way."
The lie was sour in her mouth, but she told herself she was denying her baby to protect them. If the Doctor knew what he'd lost, he would force his way through this tiny crack and bring them both home, and damn the universes it would destroy.
The Doctor narrowed his eyes and his forehead creased, and Rose held her breath. Had he believed her?
"I miss you," she blurted out, hoping to distract him. "Is there… the bond. My head's been killing me."
Remorse pinched the Doctor's features. "I'm so sorry, love. If I'd known, I never would have…"
Rose slashed her arm through the air, cutting him off. "Don't you dare," she said fiercely. "I don't regret it—I never have. If we'd only had a day together before we were separated, it would have been worth it."
The Doctor breathed out a shaky laugh. "Rose Tyler," he said, "you are brilliant."
Rose tipped her head back, feeling a bit of her spirit return. "I am," she agreed. "And do you know what I'm going to do with that brilliance? I'm gonna find a way to come home."
"You can't, Rose." The Doctor's shoulders were slumped, his mouth turned down in defeat. "It's impossible."
She snorted softly and raised an eyebrow. "When's that ever stopped us?" she challenged. "There's still a Torchwood open for business on this planet, and we're already studying the old dimension hoppers."
"Rose…"
She shook her head quickly. "Nope. Nothing you say will stop me, Doctor. I promise I'll be careful, but I'm not staying here." She tried to smile, but she suspected it looked more like a twisted grimace. "I promised you forever, remember?"
The Doctor's mouth opened and closed a few times, and finally he nodded. "Just be careful, love," he begged.
The air shifted again, and Rose knew their time was almost over. She stepped closer to the Doctor's hologram and raised her hand to his face. Even though she couldn't touch him, it just felt right to try.
"I love you." She projected all her love and adoration over the bond, and was rewarded when he drew a sharp breath.
He leaned forward as if to press his forehead to hers, and Rose pushed herself up on her toes like she would if he were really there. Then a wave of love swept over her, and she cried out as her eyes flew open.
The Doctor's eyes were dark with grief and tears as he looked down at her. "Rose Tyler, I love you."
The final syllable came through faintly as the Doctor disappeared from the beach. A moment later, sharp pain stabbed through Rose's temple, telling her the bond had broken again.
Rose curled in on herself, with her arms wrapped around her waist. Tears welled up inside her, and she let them fall onto the sandy beach.
A moment later, she felt a hand on her elbow, and she turned into her mother's waiting embrace. "It's all right, sweetheart," Jackie crooned as Rose sobbed on her shoulder. "Just let it all out." She paused for a moment, then asked, "Did you tell him?"
Rose sniffed and shook her head. "I started to, but he looked so... I just couldn't tell him he'd lost his whole family, again." She stepped back and wiped the tears from her eyes. "So I told him it was you having a baby."
Jackie snorted. "No, ta," she said. "Moving universes is enough stress for my life-I don't need to add chasing after a toddler to that."
Rose pressed her lips together and tried to swallow back the tears, but a few leaked out. "I wanted him to know," she said hoarsely. "I wanted to tell him. I don't want to do this without him." Her voice broke on the last word.
Jackie wrapped her in another tight hug. "You may not have him, but you won't be alone," she whispered fiercely. "And as soon as this baby's born, we'll start looking for a way to send you both back to your Doctor."