A/N Apologies in advance for MORE angst being thrown at these two. It's a short chapter, but I really didn't want to make this one any longer than it is. :/ It's necessary for what comes next, though.

Chapter 35

Rose lay awake in the stillness of the predawn hours, silent tears streaming down her cheeks as a dark thought assaulted her mind: This night would be one to forever haunt their lives. The unthinkable was both sudden and agonizingly slow as it stole from them that which was most precious. Why couldn't this have happened sooner, within the first days of conception, if it had to happen at all? she agonized. Maybe if neither had been given the chance to even know there had been a precious life inside of her then death would not have been able to shred their hearts in such a way.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed – maybe two hours since this nightmare slowly began. The first sign was that she had felt restless and unable to sleep. Something had been off. Something had been wrong, and just when everything should finally be feeling right. She had gone from feeling cold, to feeling clammy, and now her temperature had suddenly spiked and was steadily increasing. A slight feeling of nausea had taken hold, but not the usual feeling that would come on strong and then pass. This was different. Following the nausea came the pain. A pain she had tried to ignore, but it increased to the point that it could not be denied. It was an intense dragging pain, low and deep in her womb.

Rose had never been pregnant before, and thus never had a miscarriage before to experience the signs; but she knew exactly what this was no matter how hard her body might be trying to fight it.

She was losing the baby.

For the first time in her life Rose wanted to die. She wanted endless sleep to claim her so she wouldn't have to look into the eyes of the Doctor as he shattered. This would break him, as it was breaking her. She would need to be strong for him, though; just as she knew he would be for her. Together they would make it through this, but why must this be something they should even have to endure? Hadn't they been through enough?

For a few brief moments of time it had been perfect. Maybe that just made this all the more cruel. For a moment there had been peace for them after such struggle. This night had begun as one filled with such love and joy – a time of regaining, not losing. The Doctor had gotten out of bed that night long enough to slip on a pair of pajama bottoms and dress Rose in something warm as well. With the heat of their passion having faded to sated tranquility, the Doctor didn't want her getting chilled again. After tenderly dressing her and making her feel as adored in the process as much as he had when the task was reversed, he then climbed back into bed and spooned behind her, holding her protectively, lovingly to his chest. If they could have simply lived in that moment and not gone forward this end would not have come. Such were the thoughts tormenting Rose on this night.

The black thoughts ceaselessly tortured her soul as Rose lay there now, the Doctor's front molded to her back with his arm draped over her waist and his hand resting protectively on her belly, as if shielding their child from all harm, yet Rose knew even he couldn't stop this. She could tell he was asleep by his slow, rhythmic breaths puffing gently against the back of her neck. Rose had wondered how much sleep he'd gotten through all this and imagined this was probably the first night of soothing rest he'd had in quite some time. But as this night crept on and he slumbered in peace, loss was sweeping in on them.

As her symptoms escalated and the reality of what was happening became painfully clear, Rose knew she should wake the Doctor, but she just could not. An irrational and fearful thought told her that if she said nothing and didn't voice this then it wouldn't be true. If she lay here like this in silence, she was still pregnant. If she acknowledged this then the loss would become real.

She didn't want the Doctor to experience even a fraction of this pain with her because she knew he would relive it for an eternity. Focusing on her love for him and channeling it between them so that in his dreams he would be at peace, she had then shut her own agony away behind mental doors, anguishing alone. She could do that much for him at least. Give him a few more brief moments of peace before that was taken from him, too.

Hot, cruel tears stung her eyes and Rose choked back a sob. They both knew this was a very real risk. The Doctor had cautioned right at the beginning that her body might not be able to sustain this pregnancy. But he had been keeping her so closely monitored, and aside from the battling of internal temperature differences there had been no sign that her body was rejecting the baby. That was the sign, though. That was the beginning of this struggle she was now losing. Her body simply couldn't cope with the differences.

Rose felt as if she had failed. She had failed the Doctor and failed their child. Maybe if she had been stronger or confined herself to bed or let the Doctor keep her in the infirmary 24/7. The if-only's pummeled her mind, but nothing could reverse what was happening now.

Sorrow consumed her and crushed in so heavily until it was a struggle to even breathe. The Doctor was still asleep behind her, and thinking of what this loss would mean to him shattered her heart. He had gone to sleep so full of happiness and contentment for once in his long life. He had experienced so much loss and grief, and Rose never wanted to be a source of more grief for him. Not ever. Yet she was. Another sob bubbled up in her constricted throat as she thought of his now-heartrending confession of wanting more children with her. She could never give him that.

The dull, foreboding ache became a sharp pain, and Rose gasped, rolling clear of the Doctor's slumbering embrace.

He stirred, and Rose could no longer deny this. The Doctor opened his eyes, bleary only for a second as he quickly adjusted to the dim light. He sat up an instant later as he saw Rose doubled over on the bed, rocking slightly as she clutched her middle.

Strong arms encircled her from behind. "Rose, love, what's wrong? What is it?"

Rose shook her head side to side, her face contorted in pain and tears streaking down her cheeks. "The baby," she gasped sharply, her breath hitching in pain – both in her body and in her soul. "I...I'm sorry...I'm sorry!"

In that instant, the Doctor felt the double-edged blade of terror mingled with grief slice coldly through his hearts. This could not be happening. "Shhh, shhh, shhh. It's okay, Rose. You're going to be alright." His words did nothing to reassure either of them. Both knew what this meant. The Doctor felt a piece of his soul being wrenched from him. He stumbled from the bed to find the sonic. He tore it out of the pocket of his discarded jacket still lying on the floor and spun back towards Rose. He scanned her, the air leaving his lungs in a rush as he read the results. He moved back onto the bed and his arms were back around her in an instant, cradling her against him. The scan confirmed the worst. She was losing the baby. Its life signs were weak, already fading.

Rose was now drenched in sweat, beads of perspiration glistening on her face in the moonlight. Her skin was flushed and the sheet beneath her now stained crimson with the seeping of blood. The image singed into his mind and screamed of death. "You're burning up," he murmured hoarsely, sweeping damp tendrils of hair from her face. "Rose, I need to get you into the TARDIS. I need to move you, now. Right now."

Rose convulsed in pain, curling into a tight ball and rolling free of his embrace, clutching her knees to her chest. "Th-there's nothing you can do!"

His voice was strained, his jaw clenched as painfully tight as his hearts. He didn't want her to hear his terror, but it was there, cracking through his voice. "Yes, there is. Just let me lift you so I can get you there. Please, Rose! Right now." In the position Rose was in he couldn't move her without dragging her.

Rose shook her head rapidly, speaking the dark truth neither wanted to acknowledge. "You c-can't save the baby."

"But I can save you!" he cried, his own voice shattering as tears of desperation broke free.

"'M sorry," Rose murmured again, glassy eyes falling shut as she came closer to losing coherency.

"No. Don't say that! You have nothing to be sorry for, Rose. This isn't your fault." The Doctor's mind was racing. This was not a typical miscarriage any more than this had been a typical pregnancy. Her body was fighting a war and the battle was claiming her, too. The Doctor lunged forward to lift her any way that he could, but Rose stopped him with a sudden burst of strength.

"No! G-get back! Just stay back!" she entreated desperately, pushing against his chest with her palms. She didn't understand it, but something within instinctively said he needed to be clear of her.

He stumbled back only briefly before scooting closer again and reaching for her. "Rose, please! I have to–"

His words stopped short as Rose fell onto her back, her body going rigid. Her teeth were clenched and her eyes squeezed shut in pain as a faint golden glow began to emanate from within her womb and spread outward. It intensified until the Doctor had to shield his eyes, turning his head as Rose screamed and her body ignited and burned, golden fire enveloping her.

Then it faded, and the only light to be seen was that of the moon filtering in through the shadowy room. The Doctor lowered his arm from his eyes and looked down at Rose, unconscious on the bed. He staggered forward across the bed on his knees. With a shaking hand he reached for the side of her neck and felt for a pulse of life. It was faint but there. With his hearts in his throat and his mind a whirlwind, he lifted Rose in his arms and carried her to the TARDIS.