Hello, again! I know you're excited that I posted another chapter. And I know it's been forever so thank you so much for sticking around for me. I am working on finishing this book and getting the next book ready to start posting but life is still getting in the way of literary ambitions. I hope to have the next chapter posted before Halloween.

Bit of a warning for this chapter. There is foul language in it.

Chapter 20

When Alex didn't answer his phone, Rose forced away the urge to hurry over to his place to check on him. He had stated quite clearly that he didn't want company – twice in fact – and, although she wanted to be there for him, she knew that she had to respect his wishes on the matter. Besides, as Jackie had pointed out when Rose called her to voice her concerns, he likely was asleep when she called which would explain why he didn't answer. If she had gone over and disturbed him from his rest, the half-Gallifreyan would probably be upset with her, thinking that she thought he couldn't take care of himself.

So Rose let the matter go. She spent the night staring at the television, watching the news coverage of the University of London Massacre. Now that the tragedy occurred, the disturbing sounds she'd been hearing were gone, verifying that they had been a premonition of the incident. It wasn't much of a comfort to her however. Kyle Martin had killed sixteen people, including himself, and had wounded seven. The news went into detail about his motives and seemed intent on focusing on the fact that Alex was one of the hostages simply because he was Rose Tyler's boyfriend. She hoped he hadn't turned on the television. She knew the last thing he would want was to be in the spotlight again just because of his relationship with her.

She hardly slept that night, worry about Alex keeping her from doing so. When morning came, she forced herself not to immediately call him, trying to give him the privacy he wanted. To keep herself occupied, she went into work despite it being a Saturday and with the knowledge that she would get a lot of attention for being there. Surprisingly, most of her colleagues respected that she didn't want to talk about what happened the day before. She supposed that, in a way, they were coping with what happened as well. After all, Alex was a friend to many at Torchwood, even though he no longer wished to work there.

By four o'clock in the afternoon, Rose had done everything she could possibly do and could find no excuse to remain at work. When Pete insisted that she come to the mansion for dinner, she was tempted to reject the offer but realized that his request was more like an order. It was only when she actually got through the front door and was hugged by Jackie that she realized just how much she needed to be with her family. She was still worried about Alex but dinner with Pete, Jackie and Tony reminded her that she wasn't alone in her worrying.

After dinner, however, her anxiety concerning Alex hit a peak. Rose finally decided that she couldn't hold back anymore. She needed to know that the man was all right one way or the other and, surprising to her, her mum and dad concurred. Pulling out her phone, she dialed his mobile and waited for him to pick up.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Alex woke late the next morning, feeling invigorated. It was as if he had a massive amount of energy stored in his body and needed to let it out or it would come out on its own with dire consequences. Any feelings of depression he had the previous day seemed to vanish as he jumped up off the bed and quickly took off his worn suit. Popping into the shower, he found himself whistling as he rushed through the activity and then scrubbed himself dry. He laughed at his own reflection, noting how his hair stuck up in all directions like porcupine quills, before slicking a large amount of gel on it to force it down. Then, after getting dressed quickly, he realized that he was famished, understandable since he hadn't eaten in the last thirty hours.

Going to the kitchen, he noted the box of untouched pizza still on the counter and grimaced. Deciding that it was probably not a good idea for him to eat something that had been sitting out for several hours, he tossed the whole thing before rummaging through his cabinets and refrigerator for something to make. As a result, because cooking was one of his great joys, he spent three hours making his late lunch, which was a fine cut of steak perfectly seasoned and cooked, a side of fresh asparagus with a delicate cream sauce, and a dessert of hot lava chocolate cake.

After he finished eating the meal, he found himself needing yet another activity. Once he'd put his dishes into the sink to clean them, he turned his attention to his stereo system which he suddenly found inadequate in sound quality. He was in the middle of taking the piece of technology apart using his sonic screwdriver when his mobile rang.

Pressing the talk button, he tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder so that he could continue to fiddle with the stereo as he spoke. "Hello, Rose!" he greeted.

"Hi," Rose responded, surprised by the happiness in her boyfriend's voice. "I was just calling to see how you were doing."

"I'm fine. How are you?"

"I'm fine," she told him, becoming a little concerned by his tone. Surely he couldn't have recovered from the tragedy so quickly. "Still a little shook up by what happened yesterday. Tried to keep myself distracted by going into work. Didn't really help but at least it was something to do. Mum and Dad insisted that I come to the mansion for dinner. I have to admit, being around family helps."

"Well, your parents are good people. Glad they're there for you."

"What about you, though? I mean, how are you coping, really?"

Alex put down the wire he was sonicking and took his phone in hand, his attention completely on the conversation at that moment. "Rose, I'm fine. Honest. I just need some time alone. The only reason I even answered the phone was because you were calling and I did promise to assure you that I'm okay. So, I'm assuring you. I'm okay. Okay?"

"I don't know," she replied, a knot growing in her stomach that something was wrong. "You just… well, you sound different."

"Well, having a near death experience can do that to you." He could feel himself growing more agitated the long he spoke with Rose. "I just really want to be alone for a few days."

"A few… days?" she asked incredulously.

"When I'm ready to talk, I'll let you know."

Rose tucked her head, trying to understand the situation from his point of view. "Okay. But I'll check on you in a couple of days, see how you are doing."

"Fine. Now, go have a good time with your family. Good night." He shut off the phone without waiting for her response and tossed it on the couch. Before he had answered the call, his day had been like one big ice cream sundae: sweet, tasty and probably the best thing he could have asked for after the miserable day he'd had yesterday. He'd wanted to hear Rose's voice, hoping that it would be the whipped cream on his sundae. It turned out, however, the call was more like someone dumped sour pickle juice on his ice cream. His good mood had vanished quickly.

Trying to regain the mood, he turned back to the stereo to find what had been fun before was now frustrating. Standing, he kicked the disassembled mass of plastic and wires before slumping into the couch. It was only after staring at the failed sonic project for over half an hour that he realized that the talk with Rose wasn't entirely to blame for his bad mood. The high he'd been on since the night before was going away, a sure sign that he was starting to go into withdrawal. The shaking of his hands was the proof that he needed. And withdrawal meant that he'd be depressed once again and forced to relive the shooting at the university.

"I can't deal with this," he stated, despite there was no one to listen to him. "I can't." Rubbing his face with his hands, he stood up and went into the kitchen. Again mixing a large quantity of antipsychotic with water, he swallowed the liquid remedy to his ills, knowing that it would soon take root in his mind.

Going to his bed, he laid down just as he had the previous night and waiting for the medicine to kick in. When it did, he sighed with contentment. He knew that feeling the need to take the drug again in less than twenty-four hours meant that he'd allowed himself to fall into full blown relapse. He also knew that, at that moment, he didn't care.

The next couple of days were pretty much repetitious. Alex managed to readjust the times he needed a boost of antipsychotic so that it was one large dose in the morning and one in the early evening. He got up every morning, ate too much, fiddle with things that didn't need to be fiddled with, and generally tried to find distraction in his solitude. By the third day, however, he was finding the walls of his apartment to be too confining, especially since he was starting to run out of things he could make for breakfast, lunch, tea, dinner, second tea, and midnight snack. He needed to get out and either go buy more groceries or find sustenance outside the apartment.

As it was, he chose the latter and, leaving the apartment for the first time since the tragedy, he set out to find something to eat. Once he was out, however, he changed his mind about his goal and decided to explore London's nightlife. He found a dance club in the middle of downtown which he thought would look interesting to investigate. The moment he entered, the thumping of the bass filled his ears, bringing a smile to his face. He seemed to have some memories of being in dance clubs but, given that he couldn't recall the details, he assumed they were memories he inherited from Donna.

Going up to the bar, he ordered a beer; he'd found that he was rather fond of the drink a few centuries before when he had visited October Fest 2246 in New Germany. Once he had his desired alcoholic beverage, he found a table off the dance floor where he could people watch, commenting to himself about how different things were in the club in comparison to some of the cultures he'd seen on other worlds.

The night was passing to his liking when a feminine voice interrupted his observations. "What's a cute bloke like you not doing on the floor? First time here?"

Alex turned to the woman who had sat at his table, giving her a smile. "Actually – well, technically really – this is the first time I've ever been in a dance club."

"Seriously? You've never been in a dance club? Not one?"

"Nope!" he answered, emphasizing the "p". "Well, I frequented them in a previous life, sort of. When I was a female red-head."

"You believe in reincarnation?"

"Sort of," he replied, mentally deciding that regeneration and biological meta-crises were a bit like reincarnation.

"Me too!" the woman exclaimed. "You know, I was Egyptian royalty in a previous life."

"Really?"

"Yeah, wizard, huh?"

He smiled at her choice of words, appreciating her enthusiasm. "Very wizard."

"Hey, you wanna dance?"

He shrugged. "Why not?" Taking the woman's hand, whose name he never did learn, he allowed her to escort him to the dance floor.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Rose hadn't heard from Alex in over a week. He didn't show up for the memorial service for the victims of the University of London Massacre, which surprised the students and staff present. When the school reopened a week later, he didn't come into any of his classes, forcing the Dean of the School of Arts to hire a temp. On top of everything, the last time he answered his phone, it was to bluntly tell Rose to "fuck off", words she had never heard from his lips before. Although his words infuriated her, sending her into an angry rage in her mum's kitchen, Jackie convinced her that Alex's attitude change had to be both an expression of grief and self-loathing, an unconscious cry for help. The matriarch encouraged Rose to go find out in person what was going on with him, especially since he'd been so good to Rose for the last couple of months.

Deciding that the best way to handle the situation was to impose herself on his world – and figuring that his pantry was probably starting to go empty – Rose went to the grocer's to collect those items she needed to make a meal. Standing in the check-out, she noticed one of the weekly rags and nearly dropped the eggs that were in her hand. On the cover was Alex, two voluptuous and barely-clad women on his arms, smiling as he walked out of what was clearly a strip club. The headline screamed, "Alex Smith cheats on Rose Tyler! Vitex heiress heartbroken once again. Will this be the end?"

"Oh, my gawd!" Rose stated, clearly stunned. She grabbed one of the papers and put it on her bill, gaining a sympathetic look from the cashier which she ignored. Then hurrying to the car, she practically threw her purchases and herself in before racing to Alex's apartment. Taking just the paper, she marched to his door and pounded on it, demanding his immediate attention. It took a full two minutes before the door finally swung open, revealing a bedraggled half-Gallifreyan.

"Shit! I thought you were the landlord," Alex grumbled, turning and headed towards the kitchen. "I think the rent's late."

Rose followed, frustrated about the time it took to get the Doctor's attention and angry that he shrugged off her presence so easily when they hadn't seen each other for so long. It didn't help in the least that he once again used a word she had never thought he would ever use. To add to the dilemma, there was an odd odor in the apartment, as if he had been performing chemistry experiments without the benefit of a lab. Something was definitely wrong and she wasn't going to leave until she got to the bottom of it. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

"Making something to eat. I'm starving," he told her bluntly as he opened the refrigerator and pulled out a box of leftover Chinese food, which he promptly tossed into the microwave.

"I'm talking about this!" she told him, lifting the paper so that it was easily seen by him.

He blinked at the cover for a moment. "I don't remember doing that. Looks like I had fun though," he finished with a grin.

Slamming the paper on the kitchen counter, she marched up to him and slapped him hard. "Bastard. I've been trying to get hold of you all week and the one time that I actually succeed, you tell me to 'fuck off'! I expect that kind of language from me or Jake but not from you! And then, while making me think that you're recovering from what happened at the University, you go to a strip club! Worse, you let yourself be noticed by the paparazzi! You break my heart and you damage not only your reputation but that of me, Dad, Mum, all of Vitex and Torchwood. The Doctor I know would never have done that! It's like you've completely lost your mind. What the hell has happened to you?"

As she spoke, his face grew more somber and his jaw tightened in fury. He turned from her, trying to hide the emotions that were welling up inside him. He wasn't angry with her for her rant. After all, the evidence that said he'd lost all control of himself was in newspaper ink and lying on his kitchen counter. The rage he was feeling was strictly aimed at himself. How could he possibly have thought that he could continue down the path he'd be on? The answer was shockingly obvious to him. He hadn't been thinking at all; he'd been acting on sheer desperation, wanting to escape from reality. However, escape was just an illusion and reality was standing in his kitchen with him, demanding an explanation.

The microwave beeped, telling both the Doctor and Rose that the Chinese food had been reheated and was ready for eating. Neither moved to answer its call.

"Go away, Rose," Alex finally said, self-loathing now clear on his features. "You don't deserve me. I've never been the man you want and I never will be. I've always been and always will be a rubbish Human and a messed up Time Lord and you ought to have better. My brother was wrong in leaving me here with you. He should've kicked me out of the TARDIS and let me burn on the Crucible with Davros."

Rose's heart dropped at his words. She had expected him to react with equally heated anger, not with blatant self-loathing. She didn't know exactly why he suddenly was talking about himself as if he were an abomination, especially after all these months of seeming to have come to terms with who he was. Her first thought was that, despite the assurances from both Dr. Gentillini and Dr. Sullivan of his being cured, he had relapsed into bipolar disorder, possibly from the trauma of what he'd endured during the University of London Massacre. While she couldn't completely discount the idea – it certainly would explain his actions for the last week – she didn't think that was the root of the problem, though she didn't know why she held that belief. She noticed the way his hands had started to shake as he spoke. Once again, while the symptom could have been a result of intense emotions, her gut was telling her that it was due to something else.

Swallowing down her anger towards him, she decided it was time to find out, once and for all, what was the matter with Alex Smith that needed to be fixed. "You're not rubbish," she contradicted him, knowing from the past that doing so would get him to start expounding on why she was wrong.

"Yes, I am. Look at me!" he shouted back, turning to face her. "I can't do anything right! Tell me one thing – just one thing! – that I've done right."

She straightened, glad that her goading paid off. "I don't think just one thing will cover it. Doctor, you're amazing… even if you can be a prick." Seeing him cringe at her words, she pressed on, "You're great with Tony…"

"He's a child and I act like a child. Of course, we get along."

"You wrote Torchwood's verbal translation software…"

"…which made it possible for Aderyn to become a member of Torchwood and create a deadly biological weapon with which she accidentally killed herself."

"That wasn't your fault. Your software has vastly improved our relations with extraterrestrial species. And the work you did in Research and Development helped us identify hundreds of alien artifacts which would have been dangerous if not identified properly."

"They would have been identified properly eventually. You don't have idiots in Torchwood," he argued, leaning against the refrigerator.

"Okay. If you're going to knock everything good you did for Torchwood, which is a hell of a lot even if you didn't get to go into the field like you wanted, what about the University?" The Doctor groaned but Rose ignored it. "I've talked to the Grand Dean and some of the students…"

"When did you do that?" he questioned with a frown.

"After the massacre while I was waiting to see you. They told me you're one of the most popular professors on campus and one of the best."

"Right," he grunted in disagreement. "I teach my classes as if it were an afternoon circus, walking around in fancy dress and acting like I actually know what I'm talking about. There are a ton of professors there who actually earned their degrees and are a hell of a lot better at their job than I am."

"And then there's the massacre itself. If you hadn't been there to keep Martin calm, a lot more people would have been killed."

"It didn't keep him calm. I agitated him," Alex contradicted with clenched teeth, the reminder of the tragedy bringing back the hatred he felt for himself.

"You kept him thinking rather than acting," Rose emphasized. "I've seen the CCTV footage from the Student Hall. I know exactly what you did. The whole world knows how you saved lives by keeping a cool head. If it had been someone else in that room, Kyle Martin might have killed everyone in the building and instead of sixteen dead we would have had thirty."

There was a long silence in the room as Alex bit his lip, tears forming in his eyes. "I could have saved them. I failed." He sniffed loudly, shaking his head. "I can't do this. I can't." Marching around Rose, he hurried to the bathroom. Rose followed quickly, determined to help but finding herself blocked out by a closed and locked door.

There was a snap, a rip and other sounds that Rose couldn't identify, prompting her to call out. "Doctor?"

"Don't call me that! I'm nothing like my brother! Nothing!" The crash of breaking glass filtered through the door.

Remembering the last time Alex had such a massive emotional outburst in a locked bathroom, Rose immediately went into action. Glancing at the door handle, she identified it as being a push-lock. She rushed to Alex's bedroom and located one of his lapel pins he liked to wear. Returning to the bathroom door, she unlatched the pin and pushed the sharp end into the hole on the door handle, thus unlocking it. She hurriedly opened the door to see Alex sitting on the closed toilet, shaking with obvious shame. A string of blue elastic was wrapped tightly just above his elbow. Rose also noticed the small cluster of pinpoints below his joint, indicating where needles had been inserted. The final piece of evidence was a shattered syringe on the bathroom floor.

"Oh, my gawd!" she breathed. She covered her mouth, unable to find words suitable for the scene before her. She had known that something was terribly wrong but she wouldn't have, in her wildest dreams, imagined it to be drug use.

"I'm sorry, Rose. I'm so sorry," he murmured, turning his head away so that he wouldn't have to see the expression on her face. "I thought I could control it. And I was for a while. But then Kyle Martin happened and… and… I couldn't handle it. I went too far and now… I can't go back."

Lowering her hand finally, she licked her lips to moisten them, forcing down her emotions. "What are you taking? When did this start?"

"October of last year," he admitted. "It was pills then but I eventually turned to a dissolvable powder. Injections only started in the last week because the dosage became too slow-acting for me." He dropped his head. "I'm up to four injections every day."

"October of last year? But… that's just after Bad Wolf Bay." Seeing him nod his confirmation, her mind raced to understand what had happened then that she had missed. "You spent time in the hospital recovering from TARDIS withdrawal when we found out that you were bipolar and Laurel prescribed that antipsychotic to you. But you're not bipolar anymore and antipsychotics are non-addictive so I don't see…"

"They're addictive to Time Lords," he interrupted, correcting her thought process. "I never told Harry or Laurel."

"Why not?" she exclaimed, stunned by the revelation.

"I was desperate," he growled as he removed the blue elastic from his arm. "The silence and the noise were driving me mad. You saw what it did to me, causing my emotions to run everywhere, making me hyperactive one minute and suicidal in the next. I was scared and desperate and would've taken anything to stop the insanity. I consoled myself with the knowledge that I'm half-Human. Told myself that I wouldn't become addicted because of that side of my biology. I was wrong. If anything, it made it worse."

"So does that mean you're still bipolar after all but now have this addiction on top of it, hiding the bipolar disorder from Laurel's scans?"

"No, I'm not bipolar anymore. Laurel and Harry were correct in their interpretation of their data concerning that. What they didn't know was that the excess drug that would have been used to treat bipolar disorder was being converted into the addictive substance that's the bane of my life now. They never saw it on their scans. The problem is that the more I take it, the more I need it. I took some pretty drastic steps to get the drug too. I tried to wean myself from it when they discovered I was cured from bipolar disorder. It was working too. I was getting better. I stopped being such an ass towards you."

"Yes, you did," she agreed.

Alex nodded, thankful that she understood what he was telling her. He could see that she was still emotionally hurt by his actions but was willing to listen. "I was almost completely free of the addiction when… the massacre happened. I couldn't handle it. So I buried myself by getting as high as I possibly could. The addiction took over my life. I don't remember doing what you saw in the tabloid. I really don't. I remember you calling me but I don't remember what I said to you. It's like I'm Jekyll and Hyde and I don't remember what Hyde does."

"How high are your doses?"

"About the equivalent of four pills. I'm not sure of the exact measurement."

"So you're taking about sixteen pills every day?" she asked incredulously. "It's a miracle you're not dead!"

"I know," he whispered. He crossed his arms, withdrawing physically. "I'm sorry I'm not the man you want. I tried to make you proud of me, to act in a way that would make my brother proud and I failed. I'll help you find a way back to him."

For the second time that evening, Rose's heart dropped. She knew Alex had always had some self-hatred, feeling that he would never be equal to his full Time Lord counterpart. There had always been an odd glaze in his eyes every time someone called him Doctor, though he answered to it just as well as his chosen name. She had always thought it was a kind of mild and meaningless jealousy. It was obvious now that, in spite of the various times that she told him how much she loved him, the half-Gallifreyan never truly believed she loved him more than she did the Time Lord. She had a feeling that this was her one chance to finally prove him wrong.

Kneeling in front of him, she took his hands, forcing him to release his tight hold on himself. Gently, she kissed his palms before looking into his eyes. "Dr. Alexander Wilfred Smith, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, not the Time Lord who calls himself the Doctor."

He stared at her for a long moment as if she had lost her mind. "I just confessed to being a hopeless addict who lied about his addiction for almost a year and you still profess to want me? I'm not him, Rose. I will never be anything like him."

"That's where you're wrong. You're more like him than you can imagine. But if I truly wanted the Time Lord, I would've been looking for a way to go back to him this whole time. But I haven't been. I've been with you. You're precisely what he said you'd be: the best of both worlds, the man I need you to be. At least, you will be."

"And what sort of man is that?"

"The man who will love me for who I am and whom I can love in return – truly love, not be amorously infatuated with. Yes, you are a bullheaded, self-deprecating man with an addictive personality. And sometimes you can be a bastard. But you are also open-hearted to the point of self-sacrifice. You're extraordinarily brave, smart, funny… and, to top it all, an absolutely fantastic cook. And I love you. Not the Doctor. You. Otherwise, I wouldn't now be kneeling on a bathroom floor, professing so."

Tears trickled down Alex's face as he listened to her assertion. "I… I guess I just…" He swallowed tightly. "I don't deserve you."

"You're right. You don't. But, you have me and vice versa."

Rose's firm and blatantly honest words struck a chord in Alex's mind, emphasized by his feeling the drug coursing through his blood. He couldn't help but look back on the last nine months and remember all those times their relationship should have fallen apart but didn't, thanks to Rose's passionate determination, caring, and amazing capacity for forgiveness. He couldn't understand why she hadn't left him long ago. The last time anyone had ever shown such complete devotion to him, it had been from his Gallifreyan parents. But even with that, he'd returned the affections and devotion. Rose was giving every effort to support him, care for him, and love him, expecting nothing in return but his love while he had rarely done the same for her. She alone was making their relationship work now and that just wasn't fair.

There was only one way he could remedy the situation. He needed to beg Rose for forgiveness, drive away his demons and rebuild his life from scratch. He needed to dedicate his life to her, to live for her and only her. He needed to make her the center of his universe. Then maybe… just maybe… he could finally be worthy of her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice shaking violently from pent up emotions that, a second later, could no longer be held back. Slipping down to the floor, he wrapped his arms around her tightly, sobbing into her shoulder. "I'm s…sorry. I'm a h…horrible person. I d…don't want to h…hurt you. I n…never wanted to h…hurt you. I love you s…so much but I've been s…so h…horrible to you. I w…want to be good to you. I do! Please… f…forgive me." His sobs became too much for words to form as he clung tighter to Rose.

The woman that held his heart shushed him gently, brushing his hair as if comforting a small child. As his sobs lightened, he finally pulled away, not protesting as she wiped the last of his tears from his cheeks.

"I forgive you," she told him gently.

The sincerity of her absolution brought tears to his eyes once more despite the sense of well being the drug was pushing into his mind. He rubbed his hands down the length of his face as if trying to remove the effects of the antipsychotic with the action. "Oh, Rose. I want…" He tucked his head, gathering his thoughts as best as he could with his increasingly befuddled mind. Raising his eyes to hers, he took a shaky breath. "I want to stop trying to be someone I'm not. I want to stop hiding from… everything. I want to live for you and you alone. I want to deserve you."

Her response was quiet but firm, just as her profession of love had been. "Are you going to let me help you overcome this problem and finally bring out the real Alex Smith, the man I love?"

Overwhelmed by Rose's passionate determination and caring, Alex could only give a nod of consent.

"Good," she told him, standing up while still holding his hands. "Now, I'm going to go out to the car and bring in the groceries I left there. You clean up the mess you made in here and meet me in the living area. We have a few things to discuss if you're going to be free of this." Finally releasing his hands, she left him to attend to the task she'd given him.

She was glad to find that the eggs she had bought had survived the extended amount of time in her car. However, seeing the disaster Alex's refrigerator had become over the last couple of weeks, she became determined that his apartment should be clean from head to toe before either of them went to bed. She made a quick meal of baked Chicken Alfredo and vegetables, a variation of Jake's recipe and something that would cook on its own while she cleaned the kitchen. When she had finished that task, she went to check on Alex and found that he seemed to have gotten the cleaning bug in his system as well. Actually, it appeared to be more like he'd become obsessed with cleaning as he was still on his hands and knees, scrubbing at one spot over and over again.

Squatting down beside him, she touched his shoulder. "Alex, what are you doing?"

"Everything's clean except this one spot," he murmured, his eyes still red from his crying but now filled with almost manic determination. "I can't get it." He growled at the small stain that was between the base of the shower tub and the flooring. "Why won't you come out?" he demanded of the stain.

Realizing that his actions were a direct result of him being high on the antipsychotic he'd taken earlier, Rose gently took the scrub brush from his hand. "It's clean, Alex. You did a great job."

"But it isn't clean!" he insisted. He pointed to the small spot, which was no more than the size of the tip of a pencil. "Can't you see it?"

"I see it just fine but scrubbing it into oblivion is going to hurt you before it actually disappears. It's sanitized and that's what matters." Putting the brush into the bucket of water Alex had nearby, she urged him successfully to stand. "Let it go. It's time for dinner."

The half-Gallifreyan obeyed reluctantly, his eyes focused on the spot even as they left the bathroom.

Dinner was another challenge for Rose as she kept Alex from playing with his food, rearranging his utensils, and getting up from the table to get a cloth to clean specks off of his water glass, all the while talking at what seemed to be a hundred words per minute about everything under the sun he could think off. After dinner was done, they washed the dishes together, with Rose again taking control of the situation to ensure Alex remained relatively calm considering his hyper state of being. As they were doing the dishes, Rose couldn't help but notice Alex's concentrating on making sure every little inch of the dishes was spotless, even going so far as to go over old burn stains with a copper pad repeatedly. She pulled him away from that work, once again assuring him that the pan was as clean as it was going to be. When he protested, she pointed out that if he continued to scrub at the pan he would damage it.

Pulling him into the living room, she sat him on the couch. "Okay, first thing's first. If you're really serious about going clean, we need to establish some guidelines."

"I'm hungry," he interrupted, clearly not having heard her. "Aren't you hungry?"

"We just ate," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but we didn't have dessert. I want ice cream. Don't you? Let's go get some ice cream." He immediately stood up and started for the door. "Have you seen my keys?"

She sighed at his actions. "Alex, we need to talk."

"Fine. We can talk while we go get ice cream."

"No. Now," she ordered.

"You don't want ice cream? I could bake a cake," he suggested, pointing towards the kitchen.

"Doctor, sit down. Now." Her tone indicated that she wasn't going to accept no for an answer.

He glowered at her. "You don't have to yell." Nevertheless, he obeyed. The moment he was seated, he started tapping his foot, clearly hyperactive and wanting to use the adrenaline he was feeling.

"Are you really serious about going clean?" she asked, seeing that Alex was going to remain even though he wanted to do otherwise.

"Yes. Absolutely. Now, can we go get ice cream?"

She sighed at his words. "Alex, I know you're really feeling the effects of the drug right now but I need you to pay attention. Do you honestly want to go clean? Don't just say yes because that's what I want to hear. I want you to be honest with me."

"Yes!" he exclaimed emphatically. "Yes, I want to be free of this. I don't want to hurt you anymore. I don't want to hurt myself anymore. I want us to have a proper relationship. I want... I want to go for a run. Running is good, yeah?"

"Focus, Alex," she reminded.

"Focus," he repeated, nodding quickly. "Right. Focus." He scratched at the back of his head, taking care of the itch that was bothering him before looking into her eyes. "I'm listening."

"Good. Because we need to establish some guidelines while we take care of this problem."

"Guidelines are good. Guidelines are very good. What are the guidelines?"

Rose couldn't help but smile at his words and behavior so reminiscent of his Time Lord brother. "One, I'm in charge. You do what I say when I say it."

"Well, within reason I hope," he corrected rapidly. "I mean, I wouldn't expect you to tell me to jump off a cliff or anything like that. And I don't expect you to treat me like a child. Because I'm not a child, Rose. And I won't be ordered around." Seeing the frown on her features, he amended, "But when it comes to overcoming this addiction… absolutely. You're the boss. I will do absolutely everything you tell me as long as it is related to this."

"Good," she told him. "Because, the second guideline is you're moving back into the condo with me. I need to keep an eye on you at all times and I can't do that if I have to move between here, the condo, and Torchwood. At the condo, I can keep an eye on you and work from home."

He nodded with agreement, though there was sadness in his eyes. "I suppose I should resign my position at the University tomorrow."

"Why?" she questioned with a frown.

"How else can you keep an eye on me if I have a job I have to go to? Overcoming this problem I have will take a while. If I'm going to let you help me, my focus has to be completely on getting myself free of this addiction. Besides… I think I'm on the verge of losing my position anyway due to lack of attendance without explanation. The Grand Dean reopened the University a few days ago and, with my not going into work and my obviously public ill-behavior, I don't think that I would be welcomed back with open arms, no matter how good a teacher I may be."

"I could talk to the Grand Dean, explain things to him. Maybe you can take an extended leave. You don't have to abandon your career over this."

He looked somberly into her eyes. "The reason I left you was to explore who I am. Teaching was lovely; it really was. Maybe I'll go back to it at a different school. Or I might return to Torchwood, if Pete will have me. But this time, I want to make my decision based on who I am without the yoke of drug addiction. It's better if I'm fully in charge of my faculties, which is something that, honestly, has never happened in this new life of mine. I've been an addict for most of it, trying to make myself at least feel like I did when I was fully Time Lord. But that's impossible. I will never be fully Time Lord again and nothing will substitute it. Right now, the only thing I want is to feel in control for once in my life. Truly and properly in control. Maybe then I'll finally know who I am."

She gave him an approving smile. "I'm glad to hear it. Which brings me to rule number two. It's great that you're finally being honest about this to me and especially to yourself. But, you're going to have to be honest with everyone. That means with Mum, Dad, Harry, Laurel, Jake… They all need to know about your problem so that they can help you overcome it."

"Everyone?" he questioned, clearly incredulous. He fidgeted in place, uncomfortable with Rose's words. He scratched again at the itch – why wouldn't it go away? – before shaking his head. "I… I… I can't!"

"Alex, if you can't be honest about this, then I'm going out that door and I'm not coming back."

Her firm statement struck him hard, causing him to stare at her as tears started to form in his eyes. "You'd leave me?"

"If you can't be honest with everyone you know about this, you can't be truly honest with yourself. And if you're not honest with yourself, you'll never be completely free of this. And I won't put up with it. So, yes. I'd leave you."

He blinked ferociously to keep the tears from escaping before rubbing his eyes and nodding once again. "Okay. If that's what it takes to keep you, I'll do it. It'll be humiliating to say the least, but I'll do it. Besides, it's a support structure, right? Having a support structure is supposed to help. I mean, it wouldn't be fair to you to have to deal with this all of the time. You'd need help, yes? So, I really have to obey them as well as you on this."

"I'm glad you agree," Rose told him, touching his arm to help him cope with the sudden change in his life. "We're going to start on this tonight."

"Tonight? What could we possibly do tonight? I'm already high, Rose. I can feel the drug moving through my blood and I am concentrating very hard to keep myself from running off to do whatever strikes my fancy. I keep thinking that television needs a color adjustment and the stereo system… well, it's behind the couch and I still have to fix that after taking it apart a couple of weeks ago. And I still want ice cream… or cake… or a soufflé… or truffles! Truffles sound good. Do you want truffles? There's this great shop down the street that sells real chocolate truffles. Of course you have to sign that bloody waver but… Real chocolate truffles, Rose!"

"Alex, stop it," she ordered, taking his shoulders firmly. "Focus on me."

"Okay," he agreed hastily. "Focusing on you. Deep breath in. Exhale. Better."

She rubbed his shoulders gently before releasing him. "Now, I want you to repeat the guidelines I just gave you." Seeing him frown in confusion, she continued, "The rules about freeing you from your addiction. What are they?"

He concentrated for a long moment. "Move back in the condo. Be honest with everyone I know. Obey my support structure, especially you." He inhaled through his nose, allowing the action to calm his mind a little. "I still need activity, Rose. I mean, right now. My mind is racing and I feel like if I don't do something… anything at all… I'll explode."

"Then I'll give you something to do."

"You will?"

"You and I are going over your apartment, every inch of it, and we're going to collect everything drug related you have in here. That way you can't sneak any doses."

"Good idea," he agreed.

"And then tomorrow, I'll help you with terminating the lease here and moving back to the condo. You'll write your letter of resignation to the University and, after that's all done, we'll go to Torchwood and consult with Harry and Laurel on how to accomplish our goal without causing you harm." Seeing the uncomfortable expression on his face, she pressed gently, "Remember the rules."

"Total honesty with everyone," he paraphrased the instruction. "No matter how emotionally discomforting." He met her eyes. "I promise I will do whatever it takes to help you help me be a better man."

"You already are a better man just for making that promise. Just don't break it."