A/N: Yay! It's me! Sorry, got a new job and doing a Postgrad course (never mind that I've never done a bachelor's!) and just a lot of overtime *yawn* and then entered a shortstory competition last week; only found out on Wednesday and it was ending Friday :( So all a bit rushed!

Thanks to all you lovely reviewers, you're all fabulous! As always, this is dedicated to you!

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Painted Orchid

The Doctor released the breath he'd been holding, his arms loosely gathering the blonde in his arms to him. They were both stretched out on the sofa, sleep having overwhelmed his companion a long time ago, while the movie was still in its starting sequence. He could only guess at how exhausted she had been. The jovial mask he had been wearing for her sake was starting to crumble. He had tried so very hard to pretend for her, to pretend he didn't know about the tears she'd cried, about the hesitancy, the slight jerky movements when she reached for him, expecting to be turned away.

He didn't know how to tell her, how to explain that there was nothing in this universe that would ever make him turn away from her, nothing she could do that would ever make him reject her... because he believed in her, believed in her judgement even above his own.

He had realised it a long time ago, if he was honest with himself. Somehow this young girl with the human lifespan had become such an intricate part of his life, he found himself incapable of ever leaving her behind. Somehow, she had become his reason for everything, his reason for thinking twice, for offering chances to people - and even Daleks - when they didn't deserve them. She was his judge, jury and executioner; except, instead of the death sentence he undoubtedly deserved, she was endlessly forgiving, beyond what could be expected from anyone.

And he challenged her, so often, showing her his worst sides in the hope and simultaneous dread that she would finally realise what a monster he was; instead, however, she'd forgive him when he thought that no one ever could, she didn't flinch, didn't step back, didn't show an ounce of weakness when he tried so desperately to frighten her away.

She was Rose, his Rose, his hope, his redemption; the one who judged him and did not find him wanting. She defended him to Mickey, to her mum, even knowing more than any other living being about what he'd done, she'd stood up for him. By now he knew without a doubt that nothing he did would ever scare her away. Not her, not Rose. She'd seen the worst, had been there and held his hand when he had forced himself to look through time at all the discontinued timelines.

Rose, unlike any of his previous companions, knew exactly what he was capable of, knew all the horrors he had perpetrated, all the bad calls he'd made, and yet she was still here, still at his side. And she'd forgiven him; him, who deserved her no more than a Dalek would.

A part of him could feel her entering the room and tried to wake up; had it been a nightmare, something his mind had conjured up, he would have been able to jolt himself back to reality. But this wasn't a nightmare - these were memories. He couldn't dismiss them as unreal, because they weren't and within moments he was dragged back under, a maelstrom of emotion swallowing him up as he became unaware of a world outside of pain, terror, hatred, loneliness and the desperation for all of it to just end.

When the blonde girl woke him, she should've been too young by far to know what to do, too young to realise what waking him abruptly might do; and yet she was cautious, a wariness in her eyes that belied experience she shouldn't have of waking up war-torn men, who would, in their first moments upon awakening, not recall who was friend or foe.

She didn't flinch, didn't cringe or struggle as others might have, her body forcibly relaxed - the tension in her shoulders a clear sign that she was not as unperturbed as he might have otherwise let himself believe. But yet she didn't shout, didn't jolt just lay still and tranquil, talking in a soothing voice waiting for reality to slowly reassert itself.

Blinking in confusion as his mind caught up with his actions, the Doctor hastily removed the arm he had across her throat and the other from her wrists, jumping to his feet and to the other side of the room, away from her, disgusted with himself in a way he had not felt in months.

But his blonde companion seemed to have no qualms at all about approaching him again, hands in the air, voice still pitched somewhere between soothing and irritating in its calmness. Did she not realise what had happened, what he'd nearly done, how efficient a killing machine he'd become? It would have taken but a thought, a quick move from his hands and she wouldn't be here anymore. Nineteen years old and how often had she already nearly died at his hands?

Even now, when his hands had been all but wrapped around her throat, she didn't seem to understand. A noise of barely concealed frustration escaped him as he turned all his self-loathing on his young companion, wanting her to finally see him as he was.

"Just how stupid are you?"

He could see her brows furrow half in anger, half in confusion.

"'scuse me?"

"I nearly killed you!"

Rose had the audacity to look almost pleased with herself, like someone who had found the right answer to a particularly difficult question. She actually had the gall to smile at him.

"But you didn't."

He wanted to tear her down, savagely, wanted her to see what she refused to for so long, what was right in front of her. Why was she still with him? Why did she so stubbornly refuse to acknowledge what he already knew, that he couldn't be saved from the precipice, that he'd already taken the leap long before he ever knew her and had fallen far beyond her reach.

"But I could've, nearly did!"

"Don't matter, though. You didn't; 's all that matters. You're not a killer."

He nearly shouted with frustration, her words inciting an all new rage and pain he had thought so successfully suppressed. He stepped closer, looming over her threateningly and only feeling a slight satisfaction at the wariness entering her eyes. She still refused to back down though, her chin tilted challengingly and her determination not to give in, shining through warm brown eyes.

"I told you about my planet burning," he started, voice low and threatening, allowing every inch of the Oncoming Storm to show. Cold flooded his veins at the memory of her hand interlinking with his own back then when he told her. He was about to put an end to that and yet he didn't want her to ever leave him but he couldn't find a way to stop himself, the words pouring out in a mass of desperations, the feeling of searing heat and smell of burning flesh, the screams and abrupt silence a stark reminder, far too close to the surface after the dream had reawakened his memories.

"What I didn't tell you was that it was me; I killed them, all of them. Time Lord and Dalek alike, my planet and a dozen other planets in its vicinity. I have destroyed more lives than you could possibly conceive of existing, destroyed entire planets and races."

The normal, the human reaction was denial, stepping back, fear, anger, any number of emotions which he was watching her carefully for.

He could feel it, tingling at the edge of his awareness, his time sense informing him that all of their futures were currently narrowed down to two possibilities; one in which she stayed and one in which he would force her to leave and all of it depended on her reaction right in this very second. It wasn't fair, not even remotely fair, but he didn't care.

And she surprised him, as she would continue doing in the future, always doing the opposite of what he expected. Rose stepped closer, her empathic nature making her eyes shine with grief and pain, one of her hands coming to rest in the middle of his chest, between his hearts.

Her voice was choked and amber eyes were resting solely on him, none of the fear, disgust or anger displayed he'd expected.

"'m so sorry, Doctor."

He stared her, unsure for a moment of what to do. He'd expected her to cry, to scream, throw things, run, hide, refuse to be touched by him; not in one of the million scenarios he'd drawn up, did she apologise. Mind blank, brows furrowed, he stared at her like she was a puzzle, something never seen before, so brand new he'd not yet even started to peel back the wrapping paper and see what was beneath the first layer.

"I- What?"

Still very much confused by his young companion, he allowed himself to be pulled into her arms without resistance, her human warmth engulfing him, as he bend down to accommodate her shorter frame without any real awareness of what he was doing.

"'m so sorry you had to do that, Doctor. So, so very sorry."

Blue eyes closed under the almost physical pain, hearts pounding against his chest in grief, choking back the tears he hadn't felt he deserved to shed after the loss of his people. Her hug was suffocating him, allowing him a feeling of reprieve, of forgiveness he did not deserve. Angry at himself for letting himself believe, if even for just a moment, he shoved her away forcefully and yet found himself almost reaching for her again when she stumbled from the power of his push.

He expected her to change then, expected to see some sort of realisation hit, the fear starting to grow; except it didn't. She still just stood there, amber eyes warm and forgiving when they met his own.

"You don't understand!"

She merely tilted her head slightly, obviously refusing to respond to his anger in kind, looking at him encouragingly, waiting for him to expound on his statement. Calm, soothing, the way she'd been since he first woke up. It was more infuriating than anything she could've said in denial.

"I killed them, all of them. Do you know many old men and women died at my hands? How many parents and grandparents, how many lonely adults, how many children and babies? And I killed them, all of them! Me! So many futures, so many lives, extinguished by my hand!"

He was shouting now, in full out ranting mode, stomping over to her and still she refused to back down, refused to blame him, refused to see what kind of man he was. Her faith in him seemed unshakable.

"'s okay, Doctor. I mean 's not right," against all his earlier thoughts, he felt his hearts sink at her sudden turning against him. For some reason, he'd thought she'd always be there, that, in spite of her strong moral compass, she'd be there and forgive him. Stupid Doctor. No one could forgive what he'd done. No one. Not even Rose, the one who had so readily absolved him of any guilt for stealing her young nineteen year old self away and nearly killing her in the past, surrounded by Gelth. And, that mistake too, had been caused by his guilt for the time war. For ending it when no one else would.

"Of course 's not right. You shouldn't have been forced to do that, to kill your own people. But your enemies, they wouldn't have stopped with just the Time Lords, right? They would've continued on through the universe, right? You did it to prevent them from killing so many others"

His hearts had increased their pace again, hope growing despite his constant efforts to extinguish it. Against his will, he snorted at her comments.

"They were the least of my worries. It's my own people that scared me far more than a Dalek ever could."

He blanched at the confession; he had never ever intended on mentioning what the war had done to his people to anyone. They were dead. No one ever needed to know that the Time Lords had turned into a far bigger threat than even the Daleks could ever pose to the Universe. After all, Daleks could not see time, could not manipulate it, could not see fixed points. And yet he had just revealed it to her without a second thought, had told her something that so thoroughly condemned his race beyond any hope of redemption.

Rose let the foreign terminology - and just what is a Dalik anyway? - slide, focusing, instead, on the one thing she did understand. Her hand was on his shoulder, her eyes soft, letting him know he didn't need to share if he didn't want to.

"What happened?"

Her voice was warm and coaxing and the Doctor found himself staring at her for a moment, before giving into the desperately rising urge to share, to tell someone what horrors he had seen and unknowingly helped create.

Without a backward glance he left the console room and the jump seat he'd fallen asleep on, behind, knowing without having to glance back that Rose was but a step behind him. He easily slid into the bench seat in the kitchen, somehow not too surprised when the blonde girl sat down next to him rather than opposite of him. She seemed to know intuitively when he needed her.

"The war started a long, long time ago. It didn't just take months, years or even a decade. It was fought over centuries. People and places burning, coming to life only to burn again. The bright brilliant minds of the Time Lords got twisted. I helped create weapons, things, which should never even be considered or conceived; things which were brought into existence for one reason only. War. The Time Lords went insane and were a far, far greater danger than even their enemy could ever be.

"Their enemy was known to be cold, emotionless, exterminating everything that wasn't them; but the Time Lords were worse. Whereas before they refused to interfere, they now wanted to destroy the entire Universe. More and more horrors were invented and the longer the war went on, the worse it got. The Nightmare Child, the Skaro Degradations, the Army of Meanwhiles and Neverweres, the Could've Been King and the Horde of Travesties. Imagine all the beauty of time and space being twisted. I... There was nothing else. No way to save them and only one weapon which could destroy them all... I couldn't do it. All that blood and fire, all the screaming, all the shouting, all the pain," his hands were clenched as he recalled the decision he had been forced to make, the steps he had taken away from his ship, away from his race, knowing he was destroying everything and everyone. He was ending it all.

The words came out as a whisper, unintentional but all too familiar. "No more."

When all the anger, all the hatred and self-loathing finally subsided, fading with the memories he'd conjured up in an attempt to explain to Rose why he had killed so many, he realised, to his surprise, that she was tucked against his side, his arm over her shoulder, pulling her closer to him.

For just a moment he breathed her in, taking solace in the fact that she was still here, still at his side, hadn't left him.

"How many...?"

He blinked and focussed on his companion nestled into him. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears and with all the physical contact he could feel her emotions buzzing on the outside of cracked shield. Though he couldn't explain it, to feel all her emotions for him, for the war, for his actions did more to heal him than anything else could have. He could feel it all, her warmth, love, sympathy, pain and grief; she was practically shouting it out to the universe, brimming with emotions.

He could feel a tear running down his face, though he refused to acknowledge it. He could hear her question, loud and clear.

"Don't know."

Just as he was about to start searching for pen and paper, the Tardis shifted them to a different room. They were sitting in front of the fire, pen and a lot of paper laid out in front of him.

The Doctor stared at the blanks sheets, dread curling in his hearts. This- This would make it all the more real, would bring it to life in a way that the lack of voices hadn't. He'd never counted, had put it off but as he turned to the blonde Londoner he'd taken with him on his travels, she also reminded him of a very important fact; he would never forget what he'd done, would never remember every single life, would never know how many... except that he could. Timelines, even aborted ones, were easy to find for a Time Lord.

He breathed out, refusing to give into the panic and instead started on the long task of counting. Every roman number for one stood for a hundred; and still the sheets were filled with them, as he went through all the timelines that had suddenly ceased to exist, all at the same moment, and counted.

Through it all, she was by his side. She left occasionally to get him some tea or toast but otherwise never left his side, never saying a word yet her emotions rushed into him with every breath she took, holding his arm. A never ending supply of sorrow as the sheets filled, of muted horror, of sympathy and grief, of limitless love and warmth that rushed through him whenever he thought he could not continue on, glancing at the sheets already filled with the numbers of the dead.

It took him days to sort through it all, days to look at timelines, count them and write them down, days to separate children from adults, innocents from war-ravaged men and women. And yet, she never left. She ate, slept and stayed by his side, never flinching, not even when he went to get yet another blank paper. The Tardis hummed mournfully in the background, echoing his own turmoil of emotions as he finally allowed himself to put down the pen.

Rose blinked before putting her hand atop of his.

"You done...?"

He breathed in deeply.

"Yeah... yeah, I'm done."

Amber eyes glanced around, looking across the sheets spread across the table, the endless tally marks he'd made and the grief rose up in her, stronger than ever, as she turned to him. The man who had done it all and yet had no other choice, the man who had refused to leave the library until he finished counting the number of children he'd killed.

With great care and in one slow movement, she wrapped her arms around the Doctor and whispered into his ears the words he never thought he'd hear, certainly not from someone who actually knew about what he'd done.

"I forgive you, Doctor. I forgive you."

The tears came, before he could stop himself and he pressed Rose closer to his body, taking solace in the pliant, warm body and the forgiveness and love for him he could feel simmering just beneath the surface.

"And... just, thank you. For doing that, for saving us all, for saving the entire universe."

He gasped as the tears kept coming, stronger now than before, and he finally gave in. For the first time since the war, he allowed himself to cry for what his people had turned into, for what a warzone his planet had become, for all the innocence lost and for all the guilt he'd lived with since then and would always live with now until the end of his days.

And this tiny, young human girl who held him, allowing him to bury his face and his grief in her, never calling him out on it or shushing him, just letting him feel the waves of warmth and love emanating from her, something he had thought impossible from someone who knew him, all of him, like she now did.

Rose Tyler. Years had passed since then. They had fought Slitheen, he'd been slapped by her mum, not to mention Jack with them and of course she stayed through his regeneration. Even if she hadn't quite been yet at that point, by now she was the single most important person in his very long life.

He felt her stretch, eyes slowly blinking back the sleep before settling on him with a wide, happy grin. He responded automatically with a smile just as wide. She always had this effect on him, making him happy, making him respond to her intuitively.

With a happy smile, Rose looked back at her Doctor, relishing the feel of his cool body against hers, the vibrations of his chest whenever he spoke and the double heart beat beneath her head. This - This was home. And she had missed it.

It was the first time in months she'd not had nightmares; and, the first time she'd woken up and not been alone. It was wonderful. Smiling softly, she looked up when he cleared his throat, brown eyes unerringly focussed on her.

"Funny thing happened the other day... I came back and there was this new door there, connected to my bedroom. If I didn't know any better, I'd say it was my ship - except she would've known Reinette would never make it aboard and besides, I don't think she would've ever approved of it any way. Well known historical figure with me and my track record? Let me tell you, you've never seen a tantrum until a multi-dimensional ship, one you happen to be living in, is throwing it. So, you wouldn't know anything about that, would you? Cause there is only one person that the Tardis would do anything for and, in spite of a millennium of shared history, that isn't me."

Blushing gently, Rose innocently fluttered her eyelashes at him but her surprisingly comfortable non-human pillow just tutted in response, an amused grin pulling at his lips.

"Yeah, that's not gonna work on me."

An answering grin formed on her lips, tongue poking out the corner of her lips unconsciously as she teased him.

"Yeah, cause you just had to get that very important bit for the Tardis at that one specific market place on this very specific planet which just so happened to have both a beach and a market on it; both of which I had asked for just hours before."

His grin widened at her teasing and she found herself cuddling more into him; something he hadn't really allowed her since his regeneration but was now merely greeted with a faintly exasperated eye roll. Ducking her head to hide her own pleased smile, the familiar behaviour more reassuring than she could express, Rose tried to think of an appropriate answer to his original question. She knew all too well that though he'd follow her distractions with enthusiasm, he'd unerringly return to his original query.

"Shush you."

His fingers danced gently over her hips, prompting a giggle from her, even as she squirmed to get out from beneath his hand. Finally the blonde succeeded, using both her hands to secure his left hand to the sofa - and away from her.

"I think you forgot something..."

Rose ensured her grip on his hand was secure before turning to look up at him.

"Hello." Mockingly he waved his right hand at her. "My fighting hand!"

The next few minutes were spent in tears of laughter, mock-fights and impromptu tickling contests. Finally, energy well spent and giggles having finally subsided, breathing still erratic from the exertion, she allowed her body to gracelessly fall back against him, grinning slightly at the groan she managed to elicit from the Doctor at her actions.

"Don't even pretend that hurt you, you big Time Lord baby."

He pouted slightly before his lips inevitably formed a grin. For some reason he seemed almost incapable of not smiling when his pink and yellow human was in a good mood. Pulling his companion closer to him, he allowed the grin to fall away, signalling to her that he was still waiting for her answer, though he knew she hadn't forgotten.

"Yeah, I know. That was me. I asked her... I mean,.. I thought, since, y'know, you'd asked her to come and you told her to pick any star, I thought that you'd..."

Her voice broke off, the tight feeling returning to her throat and chest as if it had never left. Even now, closer than ever to this new Doctor, she couldn't bring herself to vocalise her worries, her doubts, for fear of having them confirmed.

His soft, rough voice interrupted her thoughts.

"You thought I'd replaced you?"

Knowing that anything she'd say would give away the tears she was barely holding back, she merely nodded at his question.

"Oh, Rose."

They were both still half-lying across the sofa but now her Doctor was pulling her up and closer until her body was pressed against his and he dropped a soft kiss into her hair.

"Never", his voice was fervent, a promise in itself he daren't yet say out loud. "Rassilon, Rose, you have to know that I could never- never replace you. Not now and not even in a thousand years."

The thought of her leaving him eventually still hurt more than anything and he didn't want to dwell on it any more than he had to.

"There always have been people travelling with me and I suspect there always will be. People so brilliant they deserve to be shown the universe and me- well, sometimes I need someone to stand in front of me and remind me that there are consequences, that I'm not always right - I need them to remind to be human at times. Like you did, with the Dalek. But the point is, no one is replacing anyone. I will always remember you, Rose Tyler. There will never be anyone like you again. I mean look at Mickey - he's with us now but that's not a replacement for you." He grimaced. "Frankly, I don't think he's in the same category as you are to me."

She could feel his heartbeat accelerating, obviously realising the precarious nature of his statement, her own heart sinking when he hastily backtracked.

"I mean that you- You were made for this. I didn't give you anything, do anything, you just were made for this way of life - running, saving people, that's all you. Mickey had to find his own way there. He wasn't ready when I first met him, unlike you. You, Rose Tyler, are exceptional. Never met anyone who could take the time vortex... Not even a Time Lord would've ever dared to attempt such foolishness. It took a human - one human in the entire universe, all of time and space. Your name is written across the stars. In fact, I know some galaxies revere you as a goddess; a statement which is, surprisingly, not inaccurate given the power you held for one tiny moment in time..."

Rose closed her eyes, unsure if she should feel awe at having been all-but-declared a goddess by a man who lived a millennium travelling in time and space, someone who had fought people who had declared themselves as gods, or if she should feel hurt at the fact that once more she was left in the uncertain position of not knowing what she meant to this wonderful man.

"And," he added after a small pause, voice hesitant as if he wasn't sure if he should say what he was about to, "no one has ever had a door connecting their room to mine, no companion before you - or after you. Nor have any of them had the right to just waltz into my room the way you do or sleep in my bed."

Another deep sigh, age-old, brown eyes focused intently on her own.

"I trust you."

How do you tell someone that you would trust their judgment over your own? Because with her, he did. He'd travelled with so many and he'd trusted them all, of course he had, but only to an extent. Rose had somehow wormed her way into his hearts and, more than that, she had managed to make a man who had lost all his faith in humanity, in the inherent goodness of people, trust her. So yes, he'd believe her judgment over his own, because she could see what he couldn't, because she would never want to see him hurt.

A lot of his female companions travelling with him had always had this faint notion of loving him - or of him loving them - and he did love them all, but not like this, never like this. What they qualified as love could not be compared to what he had with Rose. He had seen what the war had turned even the best of his own people into, what their bright minds could come up with when turned towards the sole goal of destruction. But his pink and yellow human had never faltered, never failed him, always seeing the good in people when all he could see was the death they had caused.

She was his gift, his chance, his everything. Every now and then - mostly after yet another tirade from Jackie - he would think that maybe, just maybe he should offer Rose the life that her mother envisioned for her; a house, picket fence and a nine-to-five job. Children weren't possible; despite the similarities in their species there were just too many biological differences to really make that an option.

But that way she would no longer be in danger and he could spend the rest of her mortal life with her, taking care of her, running with her... except that unerringly with a sort-of female intuition others could only dream of, Rose would drop a comment here or there that would once again remind him that she, too, never fit into the life others had planned for her.

In his previous body he had already discovered - to his surprise - that this pink and yellow human was more alike him in ways he hadn't ever thought possible. Everyone left eventually but this was the first time he could actually see a companion still at his side in two decades, still saving planets, still running. Despite what her mother wanted and wished for her daughter, he knew better than anyone what it was Rose actually wanted for herself. More often than not she'd found her way to his side when he was in the kitchen or repairing the Tardis and every now and then she'd be off on a rant.

Sometimes it was about inconsequential things like why it was so hard to find comfortable, bouncy shoes for women that looked pretty; needless to say, the very next day he'd taken her to Ysatycill where she'd given him a large hug and a kiss on the cheek when she had found the perfect shoes. The rest of the day had been spent laughing and running through both the city and the turquoise fields just outside of it in her brand new shoes. Her delighted laughter still rang in his ears whenever he recalled that day.

But other times she shared with him how she'd never known how to tell her mother or Mickey that what they wanted and what she wanted simply didn't match. Her desires to reach for the stars echoed his own, as did her family trying to convince her that they knew best.

No, Rose would hate being confined to a house and she'd despise having to fall in line with societal expectations - such as perfectly mowed lawns - and a nine-to-five job that required no running or saving people... neither of them could really see the appeal in it - well, apart from each other, he suspected.

He'd been all across the universe, met the people history claimed and praised above all others and yet if anyone had asked him if he believe in anything, then there really was only one answer. He didn't believe in gods and false prophecies, didn't believe in claims of glory, nor even in clever minds or silver tongues promising things as the Krillitanes had attempted to; he'd met all of them, all the people societies, civilisations and planets praised and revered - he'd met them. But in all of time and space there was only one person, one human that he would ever believe in; the one who defied the impossible with a startling frequency that set his heart racing, the one who had taken an old, war-torn Time Lord who had just lost his entire planet, his home, his people and his faith and she'd made him laugh and smile, made him love and forgive, shown him life when he thought he'd seen it all, forced him into her own, her very presence brightly lit with love, joy and empathy, surrounded him with sunshine when all he wanted was to hide in the darkest part of the galaxy and never see the light again. She made the impossible, possible

It was difficult to understand that she was so oblivious, so unaware of the effect she had not only on him but on everyone they encountered.

"So... even if she had come on board, you wouldn't have asked me to move my room? Or to stop bursting into your room? Or to stop sleeping in your bed? Or curl up with you in the library? It would've been the same?"

Rose found herself holding her breath, awaiting his answer.

"We will always change but I don't think we'll ever move apart from one another. The Doctor and Rose Tyler, in the Tardis, that's the way it's going to be until the day you want to leave."

The blonde snorted lightly, despite her racing heart, longing for what he described.

"Yeah, right. You know that's never going to happen."

Oh, how desperate he was to believe her, believe her when so many of his previous companions had sworn the same and yet left him. He didn't resent them; how could he? They had their own brilliant, human lives to get back to, their own planet to help save. But Rose... when, never if, because really her departure was as inevitable as time slowly catching up on her, when Rose left, he would be devastated. No matter how much he blustered and postured, he knew he would never leave her behind, not unless she specifically asked him to. He simply couldn't. Not to Rose.

[Fast forward]

Heartbroken, he stared at the white wall that separated him from the love of his lives. Rose Tyler, refusing to go and yet taken away from him against her will any way. He felt cold, bereft, as if someone had ripped her out of him. He leant against the wall and for just a moment he could feel her; all her pain and love, her desperation and her strength and determination, just at the edge of his shields.

With nary a thought he lowered his shields, hoping to get one last glimpse of her in his mind, some spark of that brilliant, golden light - but in that split second the walls had closed and he was, once again, completely alone.

No one there. No Jackie, no Rose, no family. Just him, a madman and his blue box. He wished, desperately, that he could mourn her, mourn them, that he could cry but the tears refused to come.

He had lost her. He had always expected it and yet it had never hit him so hard before. She'd been ripped from him. She had saved him and for that she was taken and with no way to get her back to him. He would never get to hold her again, never kiss, never curl up in front of the TV or the fire, never read books to one another, never run for the sheer sake of it, never spend days and nights in a prison cell, joking and teasing... all of it, gone in an instant.

She had promised him forever.

He forced himself away from the wall, knowing that all its connection to her was now long gone. The Doctor's steps were heavy, laden with guilt and loneliness as he forced himself to continue on, away from her, from the temptation to rip into the fabric of reality and get her back, even if it was just for a second before both Universes ceased to exist.

Rose didn't acknowledge her mum or Mickey. She had come back to him, had refused to be sent off with her mum and returned; yet, in the end, this was exactly where she was, where she hadn't wanted to be.

Trapped, in another universe, away from him. She screamed, cried, hammering at the wall with all her strength, bloody fists flung at it again and again, knowing just how futile an action it was and yet unable to do anything else. He was gone, far beyond her reach. All because of one stupid second, because of one Dalek, because she couldn't hold on for longer.

With the Tardis no longer suppressing her mind, she found herself almost instinctively reaching out for him, feeling him, ancient and steeped in time, tingling at the edge of her senses. Only then the gap between their worlds closed and she felt it chop her off, like the snap of a rubber band and her mind started screaming. Before they had been cries of grief, of desperation, now there was only pain as her mind was torn apart by the abrupt separation from the ship. For the last year, the Tardis had kept her mind protected; even from the Beast on the Impossible Planet. But now there was nothing, her mind was empty and her bonds to both the ship and her Doctor had been ripped to shreds, torn as if they didn't matter.

The Tardis had woven itself throughout her mind, to protect her from both outside sources and also to stop the Doctor from noticing her sudden telepathic capabilities. The gap closing tore some of those constructs like paper and it took a few minutes before Rose became aware enough of her physical body enough to stop screaming.

She could still feel it, faintly, there were still some gaps left in the Universe. Rose blinked back tears, realising that the pain she felt now would be a mere echo of what she would feel when the entire construct of her mind collapsed.

Her mum was sitting in front of her, trying to coax her to reality, to come home.

Amber eyes sharpened at her mother's words, narrowing in on the people who wanted to take her away from here, from her only connection to her Doctor.

"My home," her voice was raspy and sore from her screams, "is the Tardis. My home is with the Doctor. My home is on the other side of that wall. So yeah, I'd love to go home, 'xcept I can't."

"Oh, don't you take that tone with me-"

But Rose ignored her mother, dark eyes focused on the white wall. If she concentrated hard enough, expanded her mind wide enough, she could trace her way to the Tardis, could find the gaps in the universe, feel them. Her bond with the Doctor was never completed, so she could not trace him the same way.

For days she stayed in the abandoned tower. Her mum, Pete and Mickey would visit her, give her blankets and food but her eyes remained focussed on the wall, never acknowledging them. Her nights were filled with nightmares only to wake up and realise that reality was worse in so many ways. It was like those months she had spent alone in the Tardis, only worse. Then she'd still known he'd come back, had the ship to keep her company, to fill her mind. Now there was nothing. No hope. She knew without a doubt that he couldn't come for her.

That knowledge only made her fall deeper into despair, making it hard to remember to breathe when the gaping hole in her heart seemed to swallow her entire being alive.

Then, nearly six days after landing in Pete's World, she awaited her family with her blanket wrapped up and ready to go see the outside world.

Rose Tyler would not submit to anyone. She would find her way back to him, to her Doctor. She would search high and low, would scour universes, learn and create what she needed and she would find him.

Determination brightened her eyes, allowing some of the pain to be hidden behind it.

She was Rose Tyler and she was going back where she belonged; with the Doctor.

So, jumpstarted it all a bit. Let me know what you think.