4 months later

Okay guys, just a small and simply little filler chapter I hope you like it, before I start the episode 42

It had been a very long and eventful day to say the least. Martha needed to pop back to her flat to sort things out to find her sister was working for a man named Lazarus who changed what it meant to be human. One thing led to another and The Doctor found himself running for his life from a mutated human being. That's how he found himself wearing his tux once again, while he strolled around the console room. Martha had disappeared into her room on the TARDIS while the Doctor was undoing his top button and his bow tie while he moved the TARDIS into the vortex.

The Doctor's mind was full of the gentle hum from the TARDIS as she entered her night cycle. The lights dim, noises were gentle hums as the Doctor milled around his ship, not wanting to fall asleep, afraid of the nightmares which had returned since he lost Rose.

After the time war, the Doctor hardly ever slept in fear of the horrific images he had seen. He would bolt upright with sweat pouring from his face, his hair sticking in any direction and his breathing heavy. Images of Daleks, pictures of people screaming, seeing the look on Rose's face as she went through the tremendous pain from the wires which connected her body to the super structure. But when he met Rose something in her made them decrease in number, sure he had the occasional dream and she would comfort him, asking him in his own time to tell her about it and she would listen to every word he said to her, taking in every emotion, every memory and then she would give him her words of comfort.

After Rose had moved into the Doctor's room and started to sleep with him, the dreams stopped almost immediately. Just the feeling of wrapping his arms around her form while they slept; or the feeling of comfort as Rose was always there when he woke up. The Doctor used to joke that Rose was his dream catcher but for almost 5 years Rose's side of the bed had remained vacant and the dreams were slowly returning to him, causing his hearts to yearn for his wife.

The Doctor sniffed and rubbed his nose on the back of his hand as he tried to reconfigure his thoughts and he found himself absentmindedly tinkering with one of the controls of the TARDIS console. The TARDIS could sense her counterpart's frame of mind and she tried to comfort him. He smiled slightly and looked up at the ceiling, sending her his thanks as he stroked part of the console. The Doctor had seen Rose only briefly when he had been reunited with the cult of Skaro. She was badly wounded but the Doctor was so pleased to see her, to hold her in his arms, excluding the fact he had this feeling in the pit of his stomach that she was out of place. His instincts had be right when he found out that Rose was from a different time. She was part of his timeline but journeying on it at a different point.

But the Doctor still felt whole again. The one person he wanted to be with was standing in front of him. He could see her glorious smile, hear her laugh and hold her small form in his arms. But for the last 4 months he had not seen or even heard a single thing from her. The Doctor was constantly searching for her through his mind as this was one of her ways of communicating. He was constantly looking around on each of the planets he took Martha to try and find her. His hearts beating whenever he found some sign of her, for his hearts to then break when she was nowhere to be seen. The last conversation he had with her was constantly ringing in his mind. The fact that he would find her again and she would have the memories off all the adventures they were should share together. But the Doctor wanted to know how long he would have to wait for her. He wanted to know how long he would have to look, how long he would have to go without her living back with him on the TARDIS.

The Doctor suddenly shook his head and walked from the console room. He strode quietly through the corridors knowing Martha was probably sleeping. His hands were in his trouser pockets while he looked down at his feet which were clunking against the grating which was the TARDIS floor, the golden yellow walls giving the Doctor some comfort as his ship was constantly trying to cheer him up, knowing how much he missed his wife. The TARDIS missed Rose too, always searching for her life signal on her long range sensors, to always come back empty handed. The Doctor removed his left hand from his pockets and ran it through his hair when he turned left into the bright kitchen. A table and chairs were to his left while counters, cupboards, and kitchen utensils were to his right. He ducked and pulled a mug from the bottom cupboards and switched the kettle on, before pulling out the tea and pouring the milk into his mug.

He cradled the warm mug in both of his hands and before his brain could process where his limbs were taking him, he found himself standing outside the bedroom he shared with Rose. The deep oak door with the golden handle. The Doctor sighed at his carelessness, adjusted his mug into his left hand and moved his hands so he turned down the door handle and opened the door. The TARDIS automatically turned on the lights for the Doctor. The lights dim as the Doctor walked in. The dark wooden framed bed was the main element of the room. A king-size bed neighboured by matching bedside tables that went with the bed, large lamps sitting in their rightful places. A large walk in wardrobe was to his right which still held Rose's clothes, a chest of draws next to the door leading to the corridor and the other to the en-suit bathroom. As the Doctor walked into the room his mind was taken over by memories.

Emerging back into the room as he watched his wife rub the sleep from her eyes, her hair in disarray, while the light blinding her momentarily delicate eyes. The smile on her face while she would snuggled back into his arms while they both cradled their teas which were in their hands. The way the Doctor would wake up to see Rose's content sleeping form in front of him, her golden glow radiating her perfectly sculptured facial features. The feel of her lips on his as she tried to pull him from his slumber.

Tears were flowing into the Doctors eyes as he looked up at the ceiling. The Doctor was very proud of this. He had turned the ceiling of the room he shared with his wife into a night sky, full of stars. The blues, purples and pinks etched into the dark sky, the stars twinkling with life. Many nights after making love had the Doctor lied down to look at the ceiling. Rose having her head rested on his pale shoulders, her hair falling over her naked shoulder, all the while the Doctor was rubbing her soft skin on her arm, both of them talking in blissful conversation, each of them full with the undying love for each other.

The Doctor was never the person to pine for different people, but when it came to Rose he wanted so see her, to having her back in his life; it hurt just thinking about it. He was going to try everything in his power to get her back, to save her from any enemy she may face, because Rose was more like him than anyone else knew. BAD WOLF had changed her and only the Doctor, Rose, Captain Jack Harkness and the TARDIS knew about it. The fact that her brain capacity had grown immensely over the last 2 years he had with her was astonishing. She was remembering things better, she was gaining the knowledge of the Time Lords and the Doctor was so proud of her. BAD WOLF had also seemed to slow her ageing so it was almost non-existent, but the Doctor knew his wife was no longer the 19 year old he had met. She had changed into an honourable and compassionate woman, who cared for people. She had the need to help people she didn't even know, and she hated herself if she couldn't help people suffering. Rose had such a beautiful soul and the universe had granted her with long life so she could live out her life with her husband. With the Doctor who was the protector of the universe.

The Doctors heart was aching, his mind was hurting from memories and as he turned back to his mug of tea he found it stone cold. He shook his head, pulled off his suit jacket and his converses, pulled of his tie and shirt, to pull on his white t-shirt which acted as his PJ top, pulled off his trousers and pulled on his blue pin striped PJ bottoms, flung open the covers to his bed, got in and got comfortable before he closed his eyes to get a few hours of sleep and to try and ignore the gapping whole in his heart, which Rose used to occupy.