She was crying again. Not the loud sobbing type of crying, but the quiet painful one. One that he hated seeing and blamed himself for. She wasn't supposed to be sad. It was all his fault. He was supposed to make her happier, so he could take her home… and then watch again as her heart broke when she discovered (remembered?) what happened to her mother. Dammit. Everything he did only caused her more pain. All he wanted was for her to be happy again. He wanted her to remember him, remember them, remember how close they were before.

It was all his fault. His fault that the accident happened, his fault that Rose had gotten hurt, his fault that she wished he was someone else, his fault that he could never tell her how much he loved her. He still loved her, and would still love her no matter what happened. Even if she didn't love him anymore.

And now as he looked at her, curled up on her bed and crying softly, he felt his heart shatter within him once again. This was his fault.

"Rose," he whispered as he gingerly reached out to cup her cheek, brushing away her tears with his thumb. She didn't flinch away this time. Her hand came up covered his while she leaned into his touch.

"What's wrong," he said softly as he sat on the bed beside her. "Why are you crying?"

She didn't say anything, but instead curled into him, burying her head into his side. John wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace, rubbing her shoulders gently. He let her cry against him while he murmured gentle words to her, wishing he could help her.

"I want to go home," Rose said quietly after a few minutes. "You said three months, you promised. It's been three months, and I, I can't do this anymore. I just—I wanna go home."

"I know, I know," John said. "I'll take you home soon, Rose. I promise, and, and I know you say my promises don't mean anything to you, but I mean it. I will take you home. We'll go home together, okay? You and me."

Rose didn't reply, but squeezed him tighter.

—

John reviewed his notes on Rose as he sipped a warm cup of tea in is flat. She wasn't showing any progress and steadily getting worse. The nurses said she had nightmares every night, crying out loudly and not calming down unless they all left her alone. In his recent sessions with her, she wouldn't even look at him, let alone talk to him. It hurt. A lot.

His breath caught a bit as he flipped a page over and saw the pictures from four months ago—the day of the accident. He hadn't been hurt really, just a few scrapes. But Rose… He didn't remember what how it went—it all happened so fast—but he remembers coming to and finding Rose unmoving beside him. She wouldn't wake up, no matter how hard he shook her or called her name. "ROSE! Please! Wake up, wake up! Rose, please. Please don't go." There was so much blood…

And then the next day she didn't know him anymore. Doctor. That's all he was to her. A stupid psychiatrist that only brought her more pain. It was all his fault.

Anger coursed through John and in the heat of the moment he stood up abruptly and hurled his tea mug as hard as he could against the wall. As it shattered, one of the shards stuck a picture frame on his mantle piece, causing it and some other items to crash to the floor.

John stood for a moment just staring at the pieces scattered on the ground. Then slowly he walked over and knelt down beside the picture frame. The glass had broken in the fall and he carefully pulled the picture from its case. It was an image of him and Rose before the accident. She was laughing while he had his arms wrapped around her, placing a kiss to her cheek. He remembered when this was taken. There had been quite a lot of other pictures taken that same day (Jackie insisted they have them, and really he didn't mind that much). They were so happy… he'd only just proposed the day before and couldn't stand a moment apart from her.

But now she didn't even want him near her. John felt tears pricking the back of his eyes and he blinked them away, tossing the picture aside as he did. It brushed by a small, grey object that caught his eye. Reaching out, he picked up the circular thing in his hands and inspected it.

It was a fob watch, and old looking one at that. Carefully he turned it in his hands, admiring the small, intricate circles on the surface of its cap. He didn't remember owning a pocket watch like this.

His thumb brushed across the latch and he felt a tingling sensation crawl up his spine. Something nagged at the back of his mind, like he should just leave the watch alone. But why? It was just a pocket watch…

John pressed lightly on the latch and the watch opened up, golden light curling out and surrounding John. It was the last thing he saw before darkness covered his vision.

"Time Lord…"

—

His long coat billowing behind him, he skidded down the hall and entered the code to Rose's room quickly. He couldn't keep the grin off his face, or slow his rapidly beating hearts.

"Rose, it's me! I'm back!" the Doctor called as he burst into her room. "I remember everything! TARDIS, Time Lord, traveling, you, everything! And I'm so so sorry I…"

His world stopped.

The window to her room was broken on the floor, the glass fragments spread out like stars on the dark carpet. At the center of the glass universe, Rose sat slumped against the wall with a large shard held loosely in her hand. Her arms were covered in thick cuts, bathing her body in crimson, dark blood. Etched into her forehead was a crown of scratches than bled down her face like tears.

"ROSE!" the Doctor cried as he rushed to her side. "Rose, Rose, look at me! Rose!"

He gently lifted her from the wall and cradled her in his arms, brushing her stained hair out of her face. Rose stirred a bit in his arms and took in a ragged breath. Her eyes opened slowly and focused partially on the Doctor.

"Rose, it's me," he whispered, his voice quivering. "It's the Doctor. I'm back, see? Everything's alright now."

A small, painful smile started on Rose's face and she coughed, "Doctor?"

"Yeah," the Doctor choked out, as Rose's breathing grew slower. "You're gonna be alright, Rose. You hear me? You'll be okay, you'll be okay. Just hold on."

He didn't know what to do. He was the Doctor; he should be able to help her but… There was so much blood. He couldn't…

"Rose, you, you just gotta hold on," He said, as a tear slipped down his cheek. "I'll get help, I'll…"

"Shh," Rose murmured as her eyes drifted close once more. "It's okay…I'm… I'm going home… Doctor. I'll…I'll see you there… I love you."

The Doctor choked out a sob and held her closer to him. "I love you too, Rose. And everything is gonna be alright. You just got to hold on. You'll be okay. I'm here now, we can go home. Just don't go… Rose? Rose!"

Rose answered him with silence, her body growing still in his arms. The Doctor cried her name over and over again, tears streaming down his face. He cradled her body, rocking back and forward willing her to come back to him.

"Please," he sobbed. "Please don't go."

It was all his fault.