"There we are; in the Vortex! Where should we go first? You choose, Rose-Future, Past, new planet, different galaxy...ooo maybe -"

Rose however, cuts the Doctor off.

"Doctor, maybe it's the wine, but how about we just stay in the Vortex awhile. Sure I'm excited about being back and Donna coming along, but I'm actually really tired. I don't think I was completely caught up after ...everything...and well yesterday, I mean today...Blimey it feels like forever...Today was unpleasant... Doctor, I just- I need to rest. I don't...feel, right. Does any of that make sense?" She slumps onto the jump seat, and rests her aching head in her hands.

It makes perfect sense. He just isn't exactly sure what to do about it in the short term. Joining Rose on the jumpseat with a worried expression, he starts sorting through the options of what would be making her feel, 'not right' in such a short time. Several of the choices are alarming, but she isn't currently turning blue, or developing spots. He has a pretty good idea what the problem is, but would really like to run some more tests to know for sure. Some of those readouts from the scanners were decidedly weird.

Reaching out a hand to take one of hers, he stops midway and it falls to his lap. He's feeling a little awkward now that they're alone. At some point she's going to want to ...'talk'...not his strong suit. Well not the talking part, he's very good at that. It's the talking about feelings part that he's rubbish at. He had felt so happy and anxious to have her back, but the adventure with Donna was just like old times. Old, happy times, that he'd desperately missed. Of course, he had saved a couple of planets, toppled a couple of dictators, cured an outbreak of plague or two while he was searching for a hole in the fabric of the Universe, but it just was't the same without Rose. She knew him so well, in so many ways. He had been stumbling around for more than a year, and today's adventure was the sun coming out of the clouds. He'd felt so alive, and alive is good. Yet, none of that means he has the slightest clue how to deal with feelings. But problems? He's good at problems. Now then, what's wrong with Rose?

#need rest/fresh Time Lord/together/don't muck it up#

The Doctor is surprised by the TARDIS's use of the term, but when it's followed by a barrage of images with him doing just that; he accepts her remonstration.

/I know I've been a prat, but this is all so fast! I need to start teaching her about...well, stuff. She has a human's memories of what are now, Time Lord perceptions. I bet she's getting an enormous headache from not dealing with the rest of her sensory input. I can't keep being the buffer./

#REST/Time/don't muck it up!#

With her own healthy dose of affection the TARDIS shows him a replay of Rose telling him she loved him, and in seeing it again, he realizes that he was interrupted. The memory of how he felt in that moment also comes back to him, and he can no longer stomach his own indecision in the shadow of so much joy...this time joy wins.

/Thank you, Dear. I do need to be reminded not to "muck it up"./

Unexpectedly, deciding awkward is stupid, the Doctor Jumps to his feet and lifts Rose up in his arms. With a startled squeak, Rose puts her arms around his neck.

"What are you doing?! I'm not hurt I can walk." She knows sounds a little peevish, but she just has this horrible headache that's been getting worse all day. All the activities had done an good job of masking it, but now in the quiet of the TARDIS, she really feels like her head will explode. She presses a hand to her temple to stave off the vertigo from being picked up.

"What I'm doing Rose Tyler, is taking you to bed." With a startled look from Rose, he amends, "To your bed, I mean. You need to rest, and I'm taking you there. This is faster, 's all."

Blushing furiously, but ignoring it the Doctor heads off down the hallway towards Rose's room. Now, the significance of having it right up front and directly across from his is no longer a mystery. It had been much further down the hall for the past months, and locked. He had wanted no one else to accidentally stumble into to it. He wanted it exactly the same, every time he visited it. The only disturbance, the impression of his body on the coverlet. His previous behavior though, is the farthest thing from his mind currently.

"Rose Tyler, do you have a headache? A really bad headache?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I'm sorry, Rose. I should have realized earlier. Your new senses are giving you a lot more information than you are used to. You have all the physiological systems in place to deal with them, but Gallifreyans have a great deal of voluntary control over their internal workings. They learn as children to control certain aspects of their bodies. You are jumping in right as an adult, so you have to learn to set these systems up to sort, filter, file away, and retrieve all the new perceptions you're basically recording. That will become automatic, but right now everything is bogged down by your own memories of how you once perceived as a human. I..."

Reaching her room the TARDIS kindly opens the door for him to step through. It's completely different. The Doctor looses track of his explanation as he steps into Rose's new room.

"Rose." Is all he can say, and looking up from his (oh so comfortable) shoulder Rose gasps at seeing her room changed.

It's now shades of blue and gold. Not a stitch of pink in sight. The room itself is much larger than previously, and all the furniture is matching and elegant. The bed, a lovely almost Victorian affair is dark wood with tall posts carved with vines and roses. The sheets and cover are a deep midnight blue embroidered in metallic gold and bronze in a series of overlapping circles of varying sizes, reminiscent of Gallifreyan writing, but instead purely decorative. The floors are also wood of a lighter shade with matching walls that are paneled two thirds of the way up with the very top edge being gold. Above the wood, the walls are upholstered in a french blue damask. She now has a fireplace of her own with an art nouveau styled surround in cobalt tiles with intwined roses and vines worked on them. There are now a pair of matching dark red leather wing-back chairs in front of the fireplace and a small table, perfect for tea and a book. Her entrance to the en suite is hidden by a thick velvet curtain in darkest navy with a large gold strap-work pattern printed on it. There is so much to see. Rose looks forward to feeling better so she can explore properly.

"Oh Doctor, it's beautiful." Rose whispers. She can just reach the wall where they are standing, so she presses a hand to the wood and sends the TARDIS a wave of gratitude and awe.

~My Wolf, you are welcome. I enjoyed making it for you, but now, you should rest. My Thief is anxious for you, and there is much for you to learn. It will not be easy, but be patient. ~

Rose smiles as the Doctor carries her to the bed. Laying her on it, he makes sure she isn't running a fever, then removes her shoes for her. She's pretty sure she should be feeling awkward about that, but her head hurts so much, she can't bring herself to care.

"Can you just stop the pain? I know I can't take aspirin, but please?" She pleads, pressing her fists to her eyes, and her forehead creased in pain.

"Rose what I am going to do is completely block all your extra senses for now, ok? To set that block up I will have to go into your mind, is that alright? It can't work for long, but it will be enough for a couple of days so we can start..."

"Yes, yes! Just make it stop!"

Placing his hands to her temples, he slips past her non-existent shields and into ...complete chaos. The large library construct that had been Rose's mind-scape was in complete disarray. All her most recent memories, her experiences, sensations, thoughts...all of it was happening at once. No organization remained, and it's now a hurricane of moments and golden fire. He can NOT get lost in that, anchoring himself firmly and stepping back from the maelstrom he creates a sphere of his own shielding and wraps her chaotic new thought planes into it using his blue to shore up the walls and defenses that were once naturally part of Rose's golden mind. When he's satisfied that he has basically just walled off all of the Gallifreyan-esque parts from her conscious more human like mind-scape; he sets up some triggers to release different aspects of her new abilities as she learns how to control herself. This should hold for at least a week, which should be enough time to introduce Rose 'the human consciousness' to her new Gallifreyan physiology. Taking a look around, the library looks a little worse for wear, but it's at least stable.

Sliding out of her mind he can see she's already asleep. Reaching out physically and mentally to her, he can feel that she's resting comfortably, but already misses the tingle of her at the back of his mind. Too awkward to undress her, he tucks the blanket around Rose, and gets up to leave. He should have several hours to pour over the scanner reports. Portions of her mind felt decidedly un-Rose like, and he wanted to see if any of the equipment would have picked up what it is. Turning to look at the change in the room again, and a lingering look at Rose, the Doctor leaves.

Though there are still many questions left unanswered, and a whole new batch just waiting to be asked, the Doctor bounces out of the room and down the hall to the Infirmary with a spring in his step and a much lighter heart. One of his favorite things in the Universe (next to bananas, of course) are mysteries, and here's one he's confident he can solve. That will be nice for a change. Oh! Maybe...he will have a banana with his mystery...win, win!

About 3 hours and 12 minutes later the Doctor is still in the Infirmary taking a break from being buried in readouts and books pouring over Rose's results. At this moment, he is examining the feather the Sphynx left behind. One perfect feather; well 'feather' may be more of a metaphor. It is shaped like a feather, but it isn't made of anything that the TARDIS's scanners is willing to identify. The surface of it constantly shifts in colors and patterns with no rhyme or reason that the Doctor can find and is smooth and slick, nearly metallic. She didn't have any perfect ones left that he could see before she burst into gold and remade Rose, so his only conclusion is the Sphynx left it on purpose, but what purpose? He is deeply contemplating it, idly twisting it in his hands when he receives an insistent nudge from the TARDIS accompanied by a picture of Rose obviously having a nightmare. She is wrapped in her covers, struggling like she's trapped, and crying out. Raising his head from his work, he can hear her now.

Standing abruptly, he turns and is sprinting towards Rose's room. Kindly, the TARDIS pulls it forward so it opens directly from the Console Room. Stepping through the door the Doctor sees Rose is frantic and there are tears pouring down her face, but she's definitely still trapped in the dream. Striding to her bed and taking her hand, the Doctor is pulled forcibly into the dream before he can say a word.

Rose is swaddled tightly in the Racnoss Empress's web, Lance has fallen, but Donna is unconscious next to her, and the Doctor is hanging over the pit from a thread being taunted by the Empress.

"How fitting, for the last of the Time Lords to be the first meal for my children! Mwah-ha mwah-ha! I was once the last of my people, doctor-man, no longer! They rise, my children...they come!"

Rose could now see sharp red legs grasping the sides of the pit starting to pull themselves up over the edge. Smaller versions of the Empress...thousands...millions of them, and she was helpless. She couldn't move! The baby Racnoss were now climbing over themselves in a rush to get out of the pit. A sea of red limbs and black eyes; they were reaching for her Doctor. He is wrapped tightly, cocooned in the same webbing as she; he is a pendulum swaying as he struggles to get loose. The Racnoss get closer and are almost touching him now.

"NO!" Rose screams. Her vision starts be overwhelmed by a bright golden fog. Straining to see Rose, the Doctor turns his head and looks at her.

"I'm sorry Rose. So, so sorry." It is the last thing he says as the Racnoss reach him, and he is pulled into the struggling red mass of limbs, instantly overwhelmed.

The Doctor has watched all of this from the side, glued to the spot as the scene unfolded. He is thoroughly disturbed by her dream, and not at all excited at the prospect of it having been true. Looking over at Rose he sees her with her eyes wide, vacant and bright gold. Her mouth locked in the rictus of a scream. He sees the vivid gold light start to spill from her eyes and begin to consume her body. Now terrified, he screams for Rose.

"ROSE! No! Look at me, Rose. It's all a dream, none of this is real. Rose!" He screams her name three more times before she hears him.

"Doctor?" The light begins fading back into her eyes, and abruptly the dream shifts.

They are now on top of the flood house above an empty Thames. The night eerily silent.

"Doctor? I saw you fall." Rose reaches a hand towards him, but lets it fall.

"I'm here Rose." He takes a step forward grasping her hand, and pulls them out of the dream.

"It was just a dream. I came as soon as I could."

The TARDIS kindly supplied a flannel and some water. Pouring some of the water onto the flannel the Doctor wipes Rose's brow and cheeks, wiping away the drying tears. Still disoriented, he helps her sit up and she takes a sip of the water.

"That was horrible! How much did you see, before you rescued me?" She says giving him a small smile.

"I saw enough! Glad it didn't play out that way, thank you very much!"

Smiling himself, he keeps his tone light, not wanting to give too much weight to the nightmare. He was, in fact, horrified at what he saw happen to Rose in that dream. What was up with the gold light? More Bad Wolf? Was she somehow able to access it? Would it destroy her, him...everything?!

Thinking back to her destroying the Dalek Emperor and his army, the Doctor is terrified of Rose being consumed by that power. He knows what the Sphynx said, about Rose choosing the power, needing it, and consciously using it, but this was completely different. This was his Rose. He didn't want to loose her to the Bad Wolf. What if he already had?

"You weren't asleep for very long before the nightmare started. You should try an get some more rest." He looks at her with concern, but squeezes her hand reassuringly.

"I am still really sleepy, and drained, but my head doesn't hurt anymore. Th-thank you, for coming for me. Would you stay...with me?" She asks him hesitantly. Seeing his eyes widen, she sighs inwardly and gives him the out.

"Just till I fall asleep then? I stayed with you sometimes...before. Please?" How can he tell her, no? He can't do it. Truthfully, it's just as much for her as for himself, at this point.

"Of course, I can! Should have thought of it myself. You've rescued me from plenty of my own nightmares; it's the least I can do." Taking off his trainers, jacket, and tie, he folds them neatly on a bench that just appeared at the foot of the bed. Sitting on it, he watches Rose go to the en suite.

/How many nights I had my own nightmares after I lost her. I can only imagine it was the same for her. And no one to really be a comfort for either of us. What a pair we make!/ Chuckling to himself, he looks around the room again, and sees that his favorite pair of pajamas (the blue ones with smiling bananas) has just materialized on the bench next to him.

/What are you up to, ol' girl?/

#idiot/love/rest#

Blushing at the TARDIS's obvious attempt at encouraging he and Rose together, he stares at his jimjams. Picking them up he contemplates whether he should change or not.

/Right. Possible scenarios...Rose sees me in shirts and pants, safe or disappointed? Rose sees me in jimjams, safe or disappointed? Rose sees me in jimjams, and….Nope. Stop right there./

He isn't a prude, really he isn't, but he can not think of Rose...sexually?...but, wait. Can he? She's a Time Lord now. Well, really it seems that somehow she's a human/Time Lord/TARDIS hybrid, however the hell that could happen!

/Blimey! That would make interesting kids. Ohmigod! Kids with Rose! No looms, so that means...sex. Are you crazy/drunk/high?! Well...it isn't like you don'y know how...isn't the first time either. I'm arguing with myself, and loosing. Nutter!/

With these thoughts he imagines Rose smiling at him(the tip of her little pink tongue poking out,) holding his hand (perfect fit), hugs (warm and safe), sneaking looks at her when she's been all dressed up (Dickens and Cardiff). Her face sleeping.

In his ninth self, he would often have horrible nightmares. Years and years of fruitless battles. So many dead. Some of those dead would live and die hundreds of times as viable timelines were suddenly wiped out, or replaced, or pulled apart and remade. The Doctor can not imagine anything more terrible than warfare between time-sensitive races. The sadistic imaginings of crazed Time Lords and Daleks rampaging across the fabric of reality. Death and destruction was the minimum damage caused. There are absolutely worse things than death, and he had caused or witnessed too much of it. The personal toll of ending it; of locking it in place, of destroying everything that he hated and loved most in the Universe, should have killed him. He had wanted it to kill him. And because it did not, he dreamed.

Then Rose came bursting into his life, all smiles, hugs, laughter, and teasing. His pink and yellow human. It was like a rain storm in the desert. He had been so parched for want of interaction, of caring, of companionship, that he'd asked her twice. Such a simple thing, asking again. He had never done it before, and probably wouldn't again. But he had done it for Rose. She was exactly what he needed. So much so, that when he died saving her, he remade himself for her. This was not the first time he had regenerated in the presence of his companions, but it was the first time that he regenerated for that companion. Rose was special.

It started with her being in the kitchen when he would awaken from a nightmare with a cup of tea already made for him. They would never talk about it, but he began to think of it as magical. It got to the point where he would awaken drenched in sweat with a single scream clinched in his teeth and the scream of millions reverberating in his head, and know Rose would be in the kitchen with a cuppa. Getting up and walking down the hall, she was always, always there.

Then one night when he had walked in apparently in a horror numbed daze, he had actually begun telling her his dream. When he realized what he was doing and looked up at her biting the rest of the narrative off; he saw she was crying. Completely without judgement in her gaze, weeping for him, not because of him. She reached out took his hand with humbling compassion, and led him back to bed. He was so gobsmacked, he let her. Once she had him tucked in, she spooned right next to him, on top of the covers, and held on tight. He had never slept so well. She wasn't there every time he slept, but when it was bad, she appeared. In time, he got better. Rose, made him better.

After he regenerated the nightmares lessened. Having all your cells rewritten added another wall between him and the recollection of the experience. Now, he was more outwardly affectionate, but more afraid of his dependance on Rose. Thinking back on it, the Doctor knows that if he'd stayed leather and ears longer, he would have taken his relationship with Rose further; told her he loved her. Leather wasn't afraid of the commitment. Why the hell was he?

/WHAT is my problem?! Be honest with yourself for once. Human. That was your problem. And now, you selfish, hypocritical prat, she's much more than that, and nowyou start thinking you could have a forever with her. God, how can she possibly love me...this me? The TARDIS is right, I am a colossal idiot./

Rose steps out of the bathroom in her pajamas toweling her hair dry to see the Doctor sitting on the bench at the foot of the bed mostly dressed with his hands in his hair, elbows on knees, and staring at his pajamas. She pauses, rubbing at her hair watching him.

/What is he doing? Are they the wrong jimjams? Are those bananas? Oh! He's trying to decide if he's going to put them on. He's freaking out. Idiot./

Smiling, she drops her towel in the hamper and steps toward the bed. Sliding under the covers, she decides to not give him the safe out a second time. She isn't going anywhere. This is her home, and they are going to figure this out. That doesn't mean she's going to push, but she is definitely not going to make it easy for him to continue running from her. She's done with waiting on his decisions. She is perfectly capable of making them; even ones for him.

"I like those; you should put them on." She says breezily. The model of nonchalance."What?" The Doctor snaps his head up, no longer lost in his thoughts. Looking around he sees Rose is just slipping back into bed. She pats the side next to her.

"I said, I like those jimjams. You should put them on. They'll be more comfortable than slacks and a button shirt." With a smile she pats the covers again...pat...pat.

Staring at her as if his mind has turned into concrete with his pajamas clinched in his hands, he continues sitting there. Rose is starting to wonder if she should be worried about him, when he swiftly gets up and walks into the bathroom.

/Well that was weird! Darling, is he alright?/

~Yes. He cares, my Wolf. He cares more than he understands, and it frightens him. He has never felt so strongly before, and is unfamiliar. It is why he runs. He understand danger, survival, struggle. He does not understand love, he fears it. He is trying. Do not loose faith~

/Oh I have faith. I'm here because of faith. If there is one thing in the Universe I believe in, I believe in the Doctor. And you of course, Darling/ She adds patting the wall behind her. The TARDIS sings to Rose of her own love for the both of them.

Parting the velvet curtain the Doctor steps through in his happy banana jimjams. Seeing Rose still in bed, he strides quickly to the side she is not occupying and stands beside the bed. Afraid to say anything and scare him away, she just pulls the covers back, lays down and turns her back to him. A long second passes, and finally there's a soft sigh. The bed shifts as he gets under the covers. Rose reaches up and touches the wall; the TARDIS lowers the lights. The Doctor lays on his back for several minutes nearly vibrating, but then relaxes, turns, and spoons with Rose. They have never done this before. She has spooned him, but never under the covers, just there for comfort. This is also for comfort, hers this time, but it is also a very small promise of more.

"Doctor?"

"Hmmm?"

"Thank you for taking the headache away and saving me from the crazy spider lady."

"Welcome."

"I missed you."

"I missed you, too."

In the softness of the dark, in such stillness in Space, in the quiet breathing of two people who love each other, it is enough.

AN: I hope you enjoyed this next chapter! Thank you for the reviews. I'm still working on this story, so I will make the updates as often as possible. Thanks, to Ashleigh for the Beta-ing. :-)