AN: I'm so incredibly sorry for this late posting. The only excuse I have is life. I hope that this meets to satisfaction. It gave me a lot of grief, and I'm not entirely satisfied, to be honest. Maybe that's the perfectionist in me. Either way, only the Epilogue remains. I want to thank everyone who has taken an interest in this story. The support means the world to me. Truly!

Two Months Later...

Jillian Fields wasn't one for self-commiserating; nothing good ever came of it. But in light of the meeting she was due to have, she gave in to the wasteful inclination. Sighing, she pulled off her glasses, resting them on the surface of her desk, and rubbing circles against her temples.

One of the most significant differences between private practice and her new position as the prison's lead physician of Psychiatric Services was the level of clientele. The transition from treating more "civilized" cases to stunningly harsh, complex issues had been a trying one; but she was finally coming into her own, and appreciated her new situation. It was the first time in a decade that Jillian felt that she was able to make a difference, to really better others. But in regards to one particular patient, she felt all methods attempted proved ineffective time and time again. What once could have been rectified was now beyond salvageable. It was this determination that motivated her to arrange this meeting, a meeting that would no doubt be less than pleasant for both parties.

A knock at her door pulled Jillian from the varying thoughts turning about in her mind, and she opened her eyes.

"Yes?" she called, her way of an invite.

The latch clicked as the door opened, and a stout guard entered.

"Dr. Fields, you were expectin' an Ian Smith?"

"Yes," she nodded, placing her glasses back on, "Show him in, please, Ollie. Thank you."

The guard nodded in acknowledgement before motioning Ian into the room. With another nod to the doctor, he returned to his post.

Jillian stood and approached Ian, her hand extended. "Mr. Smith, I'm Jillian Fields. Pleasure to meet you."

With a tight expression, Ian accepted her proffered hand, barely completing the greeting before releasing her hand. From his ramrod posture, Jillian immediately registered his irritated and displeased manner.

"Please," she invited, overlooking his demeanor and gesturing to one of the seats stationed in front of her desk.

Silently, Ian took a seat while she returned to her own. A sudden flash of nervous uncertainty hit her, and Jillian took a steadying sip from her water glass before speaking again.

"I appreciate you meeting with me this morning, Mr. Smith."

Ian looked at her squarely, his entire visage radiating increasing annoyance. "It wasn't as if I honestly had a choice in the matter, Dr. Fields," he countered directly, "We both know that. When I cashed in this favor, there were no conditions, no mentions of you. Then two days ago, I get a call, and that all changes. Care to enlighten me as to why the arrangement I originally had suddenly became conditional upon my meeting with you?"

Ian's anger was evident, Jillian had expected as much. Clearing her throat, she began, "I know that this wasn't how you intended to go about things, but I assure you that my motives are purely for your wellbeing."

Ian scoffed, turning his face briefly to the side. "My wellbeing… May I remind you that you're Harry's doctor, not mine," Ian retorted sharply. "I arranged to see him. I see no earthly reason why I should be required to have any sort of session with you. Or how doing so could possibly be of any benefit to me."

"Mr. Smith," Dr. Fields began again, angling her body towards him, "I can assure you that this is most definitely not a session. I'm in no way attempting to prescribe some sort of treatment or what have you. In fact, the reason I insisted on this meeting was because of your request to see Harry."

"You'll have to be more specific, Dr. Fields. I can't say I understand your meaning."

Joining her hands, she rested them on her desk and sighed. This was not the way she'd envisioned this little chat going. "As you've so kindly stated, I am Harry's psychiatrist; therefore, I know all the ins and outs of his case and circumstances. Obviously, I'm not at liberty to discuss certain particulars with you; however, I am more than aware of your knowledge about his condition. I-…"

"This is all very well and lovely," Ian interrupted, clearly done with her near robotic response, "But, again, I fail to see the point of this little visit. You do not need to enlighten me, of all people, about Harry Saxon. I'm quite up to par on that subject. Now, if you d-…"

"What precisely are you hoping to gain from this?" Jillian interrupted.

"Pardon?"

The young doctor removed her glasses once more, sighing. "Harry's condition was critically unstable at the time of his incarceration. I know you're aware of the details regarding Dr. Rassilon's, shall we say, unor-…"

"Criminal," Ian corrected sharply, "We'll call it criminal."

"As I was saying," Jillian continued, her irritation at being interrupted yet again clearly conveyed in her tone, "Dr. Rassilon's handling of Harry's treatment, specifically his experimentation with certain medications, caused irreparable damage. Despite all efforts, there are no signs of improvement, nor are there likely to be. Management is the best we can do at this point. So, I feel I must ask—this visit you've arranged with Harry, what is your endgame? Are you hoping for some sort of reconciliation? For Harry to exhibit remorse? If so, let me caution you that you'll be sorely disappointed. However…," she furrowed her brows as her tone hardened, "If this is more of a vendetta, know that I'm aware of what all happened when your brother arranged a similar meeting, and let me emphasize now that another physical altercation will not be tolerated."

Ian moved to the edge of his seat, looking intently at the woman in front of him. "Jack had his motives and I have mine, both of which are absolutely none of your concern. I've been incredibly accommodating with this whole bloody thing you insisted on, but now I'm done with it all. I've met my end of the bargain, I suggest you meet yours."

Knowing that any further pursual of the subject with the formidable man sitting across from her was unwise, Jillian sighed in acquiescence. She'd merely wanted to provide a measure of assistance, but clearly it was unwanted. And she knew enough of Ian Smith's reputation to know that he wasn't a man with whom to trifle. To be completely honest, a large part of her couldn't fault him his anger. Knowing the particulars, the horrific tragedy he'd been in the heart of, anger was more than justified.

Resigned, Jillian picked up the phone and dialed three digits. There was the briefest of pauses before she spoke.

"Yes, this is Dr. Fields. I need you to bring 'round Harry Saxon. Identification: S112009," pausing, she lifted her eyes to meet Ian's, "He has a visitor…"

The lift doors parted with the sound of a ding, and Rose stepped out, her usual carriers weighing down her arms. As she made her way to the employee lounge, she noticed a few additional smiles sent in her direction. After three months she still couldn't help the slight blush that hinted her cheeks when she received such acknowledgement; it invariably led her thoughts to all the incredible things yet to come.

Finally reaching the lounge door, Rose used her hip to push it open and then walked to the usual table for setup. She'd just finished laying out the last of the goods when an all too familiar voice broke the silence.

"Finally! It's 'bout time you showed up. Thought you'd never get here."

Rolling her eyes, Rose turned around to see Jack's teasing smile. "Oh please! I'll have you know I'm a full…," she trailed off as she checked the clock on her mobile, "Thirteen minutes early, ta! So y'can button it, ya bleedin' drama queen."

Upping the dramatics, Jack clutched at his heart. "Ah, Rosie…you wound me!"

Rose chuckled at his display, swatting him with her cloth as she passed by him. "You're so full of it, it's amazing y'don't burst."

Finally dropping the act, Jack snorted and began his raid on the delivery. "This is all free now, yeah?" he asked, popping a tiny scone into his mouth.

"Try that again, mate," Rose snorted as she packed up her things.

"Oh c'mon," he whined, "What's the point of having a sister-in-law if ya don't get any perks?"

"Oi!" Rose squawked, "First off, that's not official yet. And second, isn't my dazzling wit enough of a perk for ya?"

"Eh," he shrugged, grinning. "You're not really my type."

Rose couldn't help but give a high-pitched chortle. "What d'ya mean type? I'm breathing, yeah?"

Jack cocked an eyebrow as he recognized the familiar opinion. "You've been gossiping with Sarah Jane again, haven't you?"

"You call it gossiping, I call it bonding. Either way, it's very entertaining," she smirked.

"Well, next time you two get together to 'bond,' you can tell her I've narrowed the playing field a considerable bit."

Stopping her movements, Rose turned around and rested on one of the tables, crossing her arms. "Oh, really now?" she questioned teasingly, her brow raised. "Care to tell?"

A brilliant grin suddenly broke out, lighting up his features. "Mainly focusing on redheaded restaurant owners. Preferably one with questionable anger-management issues. Ya know any?"

Jack continued to grin wildly, expecting a cheeky reply, a "go get her," something. However, Jack was met with none of that. Instead, Rose was motionless before him, her expression unreadable. He could feel the corners of his mouth falter as she continued to mutely blink at him. His lips parted as they began to ask a question but were halted as Rose broke her standstill, pushing off the table and walking the few steps to him.

"I'm only gonna say this once, so listen well, Jack. Donna Noble is my oldest friend, the closest thing I've ever had to a sister. And we've been through more than you know. Everythin' from scraped knees to jail…"

The mention of jail sent Jack's brows skyward. Rose rolled her eyes.

"Long story, and so not the time. Now, focus. I want you to think very long and hard about this 'playin' field' of yours. 'Cause if you do this and you're not completely serious, if this is just some passing fancy, and you end up hurting her, I will slowly and painfully dispose of you. And I have a bloody brilliant fiancé who'll make sure I get off scot-free. Understand?"

Until that moment, Jack had seen Rose as a warm, bubbly person. Loving. Kind. But now, he finally saw the ferocity and unswerving loyalty within her, and he realized an undeniable truth—do not mess with Rose Tyler.

Answering her with a nod, Rose smiled and patted his cheek. "There's a good boy." She turned back around and reached for her carriers.

"So, uh…," Jack cleared his throat, snapping himself out of his slightly fearful daze, "Speaking of my brother…well, mentioning my brother, have you talked to him?"

She shook her head. "Not since yesterday. Why?"

"I've been trying to reach him, but no luck. He must already be at the prison, signal's crap there."

Rose felt her ears perk up. When they had spoken last night, Ian had mentioned that he had business to take care of, but something in Jack's tone struck her. Rose sensed that there was something she was missing. "Somethin' the matter?"

"Yeah. He's supposed to meet some doc before they'll let him see Harry. Real nice of Garrett to throw that curveball at the last minute. Never did get a clear reason for that sudden change, but I got the feeling that doctor had s-…"

"Sorry, Jack, but I just realized I need to be somewhere and I'm late. Best be off," Rose broke in hurriedly, pecking his cheek. "I'll talk to you later, yeah?"

Flashing him a quick smile, Rose turned on her heel and rushed towards the lift. She knew her abrupt exit would confuse Jack, and that her excuse, while plausible, was poor at best. However, at the moment, she couldn't care less.

As she hurriedly made her way outside and into her car, she could feel a slow heat make its way through her veins. Business, Ian had said. That was all. Never once did he mention anything about seeing Harry. Not one bloody word. How could Ian keep that from her, act like nothing important was happening? Well…there was no way Rose was going to take that lying down. Not a chance.

So blinded by a mixture of anger and annoyance, Rose didn't register the drive to the prison until she suddenly found herself parked in front of it. Grabbing her purse, she threw open her door, and determinedly made her way to the massive building. She had no plan, no idea how she'd maneuver her way into building; but none of that mattered. She was Rose Tyler, and she'd set her mind to something. God help the poor soul stupid enough to try and stop her.

"Yes, this is Dr. Fields. I need you to bring 'round Harry Saxon. Identification: S112009," pausing, she lifted her eyes to meet Ian's, "He has a visitor…"

When Dr. Fields didn't immediately return the receiver to the cradle, Ian furrowed his brow, watching the expression on her face change as the individual on the other end spoke.

"Alright…I see. I wasn't aware of that, but yes…show her in as well." With that, she replaced the receiver and turned her attention back to Ian, releasing a silent breath.

"The guards are in the middle of a cell sweep, so it'll be several minutes before they bring Harry out. But I'll show you to the one of the holding rooms." Jillian stood and moved towards the door, Ian following her lead. She had just turned the knob and when she said, "Also, I apologize for any confusion this meeting caused. I didn't realize you weren't the only one coming."

He'd just walked through the doorframe when Ian stopped mid-step and turned his head sharply to look at her. The statement, though confusing, struck a chord within him, eliciting a sudden uneasiness. "I'm sorry?"

Dr. Fields didn't get a chance to respond, as the sound of approaching footsteps caught Ian's attention and he saw the answer to his question—Rose being escorted by another burly guard. Their eyes met, and Ian could see the storm brewing in those dark, whiskey orbs.

Releasing a slow breath, Ian began the approach towards his fiancé. The sound of a pager halted Jillian's following him. Checking the small device, she frowned and dropped her shoulders as she sighed.

"Sorry. I have to answer this. Mac, would you please show these two the way?"

"'Course, ma'am," the guard acknowledged, and Jillian disappeared back into her office.

Rose began walking, meeting Ian halfway. Her entire body was radiating anger, her features tight as she controlled her emotions.

"Rose…," Ian began.

She looked back at the guard, cutting Ian off. "Could we have just a mo'?"

Mac accommodated by stepping back a short distance, enough to give them some privacy, yet still maintaining his authoritative presence.

Rose turned her head around and met Ian's gaze. Ian opened his mouth to speak once again, but was immediately halted by Rose.

"Oh, the words you an' me are gonna have when we get outta here," she said lowly, angrily.

"Rose, I-…"

"How could ya not tell me 'bout comin' here?"

"Ro-…"

"This isn't somethin' ya just leave out."

"Rose," Ian said firmly, "Stop interrupting me long enough to let me explain. Please."

Closing her eyes, Rose took a slow, steadying breath. Nothing good was going to happen if she lost her cool. Finding her calm, she opened her eyes again.

"M'kay. G'on…make it good."

Ian released a rugged breath and tugged nervously on his ear. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you trying to come. Obviously that didn't go as planned, seeing as you're standing in front of me."

"You think I'm angry I didn't get an invite? Ian…," Rose ran a hand through her hair and blew out a harsh breath, "I'm not angry that you didn't ask me to come with you, I'm angry because you kept the truth from me."

She saw his mouth open to speak, but she stifled his coming refutation. "Yeah, I know. Technically, you didn't lie; but that doesn't mean you told me the truth. With everythin' we've been through, the last thing we need is to keep things from each other. Especially something like this."

"Rose, you don't understand what Harry's like! Everything I've told you doesn't even come close to doing him justice. I didn't want you around that. Around him."

"I didn't come for him, Cillian," Rose said firmly. Maintaining her gaze, she reached out and grabbed his hand, interlinking their fingers tightly. "I came for you."

Feeling his irritation and anger mount, Ian removed his hand from Rose's grasp, using it to repeatedly rake his hair. There was more to his averseness than he was letting on; but he wasn't prepared to reveal it…to relive it. Instead, he allowed the gruffer part of his nature to take the reins at that moment.

"Well, as you can see, I'm alr-…"

"I swear to God, Ian," Rose growled lowly, "Don't you dare finish that bloody word!"

"Ro-…"

"Is there a problem here?" the guard broke in, his sudden proximity surprising them both. In actuality, it shouldn't have been that much of a surprise, considering they were a few choice words away from basically having a domestic in the middle of the hallway.

Ian and Rose turned their gaze away from the guard and to each other once more. Both remained steadfast, unyielding in their stance, their tempers simmering. Rose arched a brow questioningly, almost challengingly. Her passion was something that always captivated him, but in that moment, Ian found it infuriating. Why couldn't she just let this go?

Blowing out a harsh breath, Ian vigorously rubbed the back of his neck before throwing his hands up in resignation. "'Course not."

The guard, Mac, gave them both a slow once over; his trained eye taking in every detail of the two. Satisfied with his appraisal, he nodded. "Right, then. They just called over the comm that they're bringin' 'im in. Time to move," he instructed, leading the way down the hall to the designated meeting place.

There was a palpable tension between Ian and Rose as they took their seats. Though both felt justified in their earlier behavior, neither was pleased with the resulting strain between them. Despite that, it in no way felt like the right time to mend it.

Silence persisted as both waited with bated breath for the Past to make its appearance, neither certain of what was in store. Suddenly, the agonizing wait was over, and the metal door creaked open, heralding the arrival of Harry Saxon.

The unkempt man emerged through, his shackles clanging as he shuffled. His dark, soulless eyes latched onto their position, and a slow grin spread up his cheek. The hefty guard escorting him led him to the metal table, securing his chains to the cold surface, and then taking his station beside Mac.

Harry volleyed his gaze between Ian and Rose, his once hollow eyes now dancing with glee. Bouncing a bit, he scooted forward, eagerly resting his hands on the dull, frigid metal.

"Hello, old friend. Feels like years since we've met up. But here you are, and you've even brought me a present," he motioned his head towards Rose, his grin widening, "Wish I'd known, I didn't get you anything."

Rose could sense the tension instantly surge into Ian's body and she swiftly moved her hand, grasping his tightly and locking their fingers under the table. The moment their hands met, she felt Ian relax ever so slightly, gently squeezing her hand and ghosting his thumb over her skin. The feeling of Rose's hand within his, the strength she imparted, elicited the faintest of smiles in relief.

Harry watched them throughout the silent exchange, cocking his head inquisitively. After a brief moment, he turned his focus to Rose, studying her admiringly.

"You really outdid yourself, Ian, bringing me such a pretty bird."

Something foreign lit up his eyes, and his gaze, though still analytical, now became somewhat predatory. Rose felt a fiery fury burn in her core as Harry kept his eyes trained on her. There was no denying he was menacing, possible sadistic; nor was there any denying that he unsettled her. But what infuriated Rose was that Harry was using her to bait Ian, to fan his anger, to hurt him. She could feel the instinctual need to defend course through her.

Suddenly, Harry's eyes widened before lighting up once again with glee. "Ooh…I was mistaken. Not a bird. No, there's something about you…your eyes. They're fierce…protective. Sorta remind me of a wolf…what do you think, Ian? Doesn't she have something of the wolf about her?"

Whatever tension had left Ian's body came rushing back as Harry continued to study Rose almost leeringly.

"Leave her alone," he ordered lowly, evenly.

Harry chuckled causing Ian to jerk forward, but Rose quickly put her free hand on his arm, calming him enough to keep his temper in check. Harry's eyes widened as he saw the glinting ring on Rose's finger, and his smile grew exponentially.

"Now this…this is interesting. Quite an unexpected development. Appears you didn't get me a present after all. She's your toy. Isn't that lovely! Tell me, sweetheart, has our boy here mentioned me? We used to be great friends, y'know."

Ian felt his disgust grow as Harry continued to fixate on Rose. It just reminded him of why he didn't want Rose there in the first place. "I said leav-…"

Harry hurled his chained hands down on the table, the harsh sound of clanging metal halting Ian's words.

"I'm talking to her!" he shouted, causing the guards to instinctually start forward. Seeing that Harry was not going to attempt anything, they stayed their post but kept on alert, quite familiar with the man's antics.

Though Ian detested the man facing him and the fact that he was eerily taken with Rose, he refused to allow it to divert him from his purpose. He was about to challenge Harry once again, but was stopped by the gentle squeeze from Rose's hand. Pulling his eyes away from Harry's despised face, Ian turned to see Rose looking up at him, her large eyes warm and comforting; in them he found a steadfast pillar of strength, and a tentative calm came over him.

A sigh from Harry brought both Rose and Ian to attention.

"Now, pet, where were we? Oh yes…we were talking about me and your husband-to-be. Did he ever tell you 'bout the last time we saw each other? It was quite eventful."

Harry waited for a response, but was sorely disappointed as Rose merely stared at him.

"Come now. You're not even the least bit curious? I should think you'd want to know everything you could about the man you're going to latch yourself to. Don't you want to know what sort of man he is? The things he's done, the lies he's told?"

Every fiber of Rose's being was begging for permission to tear into the waste of life speaking to her. His words fanned her fiery anger, and she wanted nothing more than to put him in his place. To take his vile intent and antagonistic words and feed them back to him. Her limbs practically itched with such desire, but she exercised valiant restraint, remembering that she was there for one reason and one reason alone—Ian. This meeting wasn't her doing, it was his; and whatever his reasons, Rose was determined to stand by him, and not allow her own emotions to run rampant.

Her continued silence began to grate against Harry's nerves, and his eyes narrowed in irritation.

"You're starting to make me angry…I'm not very nice when I'm angry. That's what they tell me, anyhow…well, at least the lot in this place say so; but in here," he pointed at his temple, "they seem to be quite fond of me. But you…you don't like me much, do you, Wolf?"

I loathe you as I've never loathed anyone in my life…

It was true. Rose had never had such disgust for an individual in her life. Yet, despite that, she remained silent, her face impassive. She refused to lose control.

Down once more came Harry's fists onto table. "Speak!"

"Enough, Harry!" Ian demanded. "Enough of this. This has absolutely nothing to do with her. Nothing. So I'll tell you one last time: Leave. Her. Alone."

There was a flash of anger in Harry's eyes before he finally turned his attention to Ian, shrugging his shoulders. "No matter. She was starting to bore me, anyway. So, Ian…is this the part of the visit where we pull out old photos and relive the glory days? I do so love a good round of nostalgia."

Ian took a slow, steadying breath. The decision to go there had not been an easy one; he'd wrestled with emotions both old and new, but ultimately came to the conclusion that it had to be done. If he was to truly move forward, Ian had to face one last demon.

"This isn't some sort of friendly reunion, and you know it. Whatever sentiment was between us ended when you fired that gun."

"Remember that, do ya?" Harry smirked, an unearthly gleam in his eye.

Closing his eyes, Ian blew out a harsh breath through his nostrils, gritting his teeth. He would not surrender to the anger threatening to overwhelm him. He was stronger than that.

"I'll always remember that. There's no way I could ever forget it. But…but, I'm done holding onto it."

Blinking, Harry then squinted in confusion. "What?"

"I said I'm done. Every single day for six years I've carried this bloody guilt, guilt about you…about Lucy…about Dad. It was all I saw, no matter where I looked. I couldn't escape it, so I embraced it…"

Ian paused to take another soothing breath, memories of those years flitting past his mind as he did so.

"But I finally realized that…that it's not mine to carry. It's yours. It's always been yours."

For the first time in six years, Ian said those words with complete conviction, never once wavering. And it felt…liberating.

"No…no, it's not!" Harry seethed insistently. "You were supposed to make them stop. You promised me that they would STOP!" he screamed, pounding his head. "It's your fault…you lied to me!"

"I tried," Ian wearily replied, "I honestly tried, Harry. But…there was nothing I could do. No matter how badly I wanted to. If I could go back and change it, I would, but I can't. I just…can't."

Harry continued to rile up, his nostrils flaring as he raked his chained hands through his hair. His eyes darted around frantically, as if searching for something to say, but coming up empty.

Ian knew it was time to end things once and for all. "I'll always be sorry that things didn't go differently, but I'm done carrying your guilt. I'm giving it back. It's not mine and I don't want it anymore."

Harry began to shake his head violently. "No…no...not mine. It's yours. Yours! Never mine," he insisted, his eyes wide and wild.

There was nothing more to say on the matter, no reason left to stay. Not bothering to give a useless refute, Ian sighed one last time before standing, Rose following suit. He turned to the guards.

"We're ready to go."

Their guard from before nodded and began to escort them out. Becoming irate, Harry attempted to stand, but his chains prevented him. The other guard immediately appeared at his side, gripping his shoulder and firmly keeping him seated.

"Ian!" Harry screamed at the top of his lungs, desperately turning from side to side in an effort to catch sight of his former friend. "Ian!"

No matter how loud his cries, no matter how much he struggled, it was all for naught. For the last time, the door closed firmly behind Ian and Rose, neither one ever looking back.

The walk to Rose's car was filled with tense silence. Though they had yet to speak to each other, their hands had remained intertwined, neither one loosening their grip. Both had much to say, but neither knew where to begin.

When they reached Rose's car, there was a significant hesitation before Rose released his hand and fiddled around in her purse for her keys.

"Where you off to now?" Ian asked quietly, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Uh, back home, I s'pose. The flat's a mess with all of Martha's wedding stuff. I'll probably straighten up and then watch some telly," she answered, keeping her head down as she twisted and turned her key in her hands.

Ian nodded in acknowledgement. "Right…We'll talk later?"

"M'kay," Rose agreed, unlocking the car and opening the door. Ian had just turned to leave when Rose suddenly shut the door. "No," she said, leaning against the car and running a hand through her hair, "We'll talk now."

Ian turned back around to face her but stayed in place. Rose crossed her arms, lifting a hand and rubbing her forehead.

"Please explain to me what you were thinking. I really want to understand."

"What part do you want me to explain?"

"Mostly the part where you decided to go see the man who murdered your father and not breathe a word of it to me."

"Rose," Ian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Let's be honest, we both know you would've wanted to come with me, and I couldn't have that."

"Of course I'd want to come with you, Cillian!" Rose said, pushing off the car. "Why wouldn't I? I love you and this is a huge deal. I wouldn't have you go it alone. But I wouldn't have forced you to bring me, and you know that."

"I didn't want to risk it, Rose!" Ian said sharply, running a hand through his hair in aggravation. "I didn't want Harry anywhere near you. I couldn't…," he trailed off, walking towards her and leaning his back against the car. He sighed wearily, scrubbing his face.

Rose sidled up next to him, their shoulders touching. "What aren't you tellin' me?" she asked softly.

Ian closed his eyes briefly, no longer seeing the need to keep his reasons to himself. "I…I saw him kill you, Rose. That night you found me in the park…when I woke up in your flat gasping for air…it was because he shot you. The bullet was supposed to hit me, but I looked down and you were in my arms, cold and pale. There was blood all over me. Y-you…," Ian's voice broke with emotion as he recalled the vivid nightmare, "You died in my arms, Rose. He took you from me. I know it was just a nightmare, but the thought of you in the same room with him, it m-…"

His words ended abruptly as Rose pulled him close and fiercely captured his lips with her own, cupping her soft hands around his face. The effect was instantaneous as Ian felt his fears calm with each caress of her lips.

All too soon, she pulled back. She held his gaze, their breaths mingling, her fingertips grazing his cheeks.

"No one is ever gonna take me from you, understand? No one."

"But-…"

"No," she shook her head, "No buts. Whatever happens, no matter what, nothing and no one will ever keep me from you."

Ian continued to hold her gaze, nearly losing himself in the depth of emotion they contained. He knew that the world was full of uncertainty, twist and turns in all directions. But if Ian believed in one thing, he believed in her. She'd promised him forever, and neither of them would settle for less.

"You have no idea how much I love you."

Rose grinned widely at his declaration. "If it's even half as much as I love you, then we're gonna be bloody brilliant together, I can tell ya that right now."

Ian captured her lips in another kiss, this one soft and languid. When he pulled away, a mirroring grin emerged from his own lips.

"Oh I have no doubt about it, Rose Tyler. No doubt at all."