Chapter 2

"All right. Both of you, answer me this. When I last stood on this beach, on the worst day of my life, what was the last thing you said to me? Go on, say it."

"I said, Rose Tyler."

"Yeah, and how was that sentence going to end?"

"Does it need saying?"

"And you, Doctor? What was the end of that sentence?"

Lungbarrow Manor

Weston On The Green

Oxfordshire

July 2114

Lungbarrow Manor had been the family home of the Smith family for over ninety years. The 25 bedroom, 16th century stone building, was originally just called The Manor, but when the Smiths bought it, the Doctor changed the name in memory of his family home on Gallifrey.

They decided to buy the house when Rose found that she was expecting their first child. Never having thought that she would ever have a family, especially with the Doctor, she was taking no chances and quit her Ops position at Torchwood to concentrate on being a full time mum.

The Doctor had an open invitation for the position of professor of theoretical physics at Oxford, and decided it would be an ideal time to take them up on their offer, although he remained as technical consultant for Torchwood, and scientific advisor to the government.

When they had moved from London, he converted one of the basement vaults into a workshop laboratory, and transferred his special experiment from Torchwood which eventually became their very own TARDIS.

They'd had five children in this house, and it held some wonderful memories. The children had long since left and had families of their own, leaving their parents to rattle around in the big old house on their own. It was never for long though, as their sons and daughters would return regularly, bringing their own children to stay.

The gardens of the house had been designed to celebrate the changing seasons, where they could stroll along the scented lavender walk in summer, and wander through the woodlands during autumn and listen to the birdsong. The grounds had a hidden knot garden and a croquet lawn, and a team of gardeners would plant and tend the flower beds for all seasons. The family would often enjoy a drink and a snack on one of the beautiful terraces and watch the sun set over the fields beyond.

At Christmas, the house would be full to bursting, as they all returned for the Yuletide and New Year celebrations. Today however, on this warm summers day, the family had gathered there to be present at an event which would overshadow all of those happy memories.

"Doctor, are you there?" The frail woman called out from her bed.

Professor John Smith, known to his wife as the Doctor, took her searching hand in his and sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm here my love, I won't leave you."

The one hundred and twenty seven year old Rose Smith turned and smiled at her husband, her face wrinkled in a smile. "Look at you, as fresh faced as the day you married me." She reached up and stroked his beard.

"Oh I don't know about that," he said, running his fingers through his sticky up hair. "There are flecks of grey in this mop."

"Hah, flecks. What I'd give for flecks. There was a time when my hair was blonde, now look at it, all grey an' 'orrible."

"It's silver and still beautiful," he said, stroking it fondly.

"Where have all the years gone?" She asked with a melancholy air, as she started remembering her life. Growing up on the Powell estate with her mum, Jericho Street School when she won the bronze for her gymnastics.

There was her best friend Shareen, and Mickey of course. The disastrous fling with Jimmy Stone, and then going steady with Mickey when Jimmy dumped her.

'Run!', that amazing man had said when she thought she was going to die, and how they had run, through all of time and space.

"I've just remembered somethin'," she whispered. "You said you'd grow old the same as me." She had noticed decades ago that she was getting 'crows feet' at the corner of her eyes, a scrawny neck, and wrinkled hands, while the Doctor just seemed to get the odd laughter line.

'It must be the Mott gene from Donna', he told her. 'I mean, look at Wilfred, he was a sprightly old chap'.

Little white lies.

Now though, he knew for certain what he had suspected. "Ah, well, I am growing old, but that's the Gallifreyan part of me, we can live hundreds of years between regenerations."

That brought back memories of a conversation they'd had over a hundred years ago.

["I don't age. I regenerate. But humans decay. You wither and you die. Imagine watching that happen to someone who you…"]

Tears welled in her eyes. "Oh Doctor, all these years, and you've had to watch me grow old, knowin' this day would come."

"No, it wasn't like that Love. We didn't know that this would happen. It was a possibility, but I always hoped that my aging would be human."

"I want to stay with you Doctor, but I'm so terribly tired."

He gripped her thumb, and curled her fingers over his thumb, kissing her knuckles before holding her hand to his chest. Tears trickled down his cheeks.

"I…" The words caught in his throat as he stifled a sob. "I know my love. Just rest, everything will be fine."

She heard the laughter of their five children growing up in the house. The birthday parties, the excitement of Christmas's long gone. She felt the sadness when her father died of a heart attack, aged 82, and her mother passing away quietly in her sleep 27 years later. The pride and joy when her children married and had families of their own.

They were blessed with 14 grandchildren, who gave them 31 great grandchildren, who in turn had given them 71 great great grandchildren, with a great great great grandchild on the way.

["And if you want to remember me, then you can do one thing. That's all, one thing. Have a good life. Do that for me, Rose. Have a fantastic life."]

And she'd had a fantastically good life, all because this incredible man had asked her to be his wife. And now, at the end of that fantastically good life, she was able to feel the time line, and for the first time in their long marriage, she understood how the Doctor sensed time. It wasn't linear, as humans saw it, it was chaotic and in flux, full of potential and possibility.

"Doctor?" She breathed, looking off into the distance.

"I'm here Rose," he said, gently rubbing her hand.

"I can see that beach, I think it's time… I love you."

"I love you Rose, with all my heart."

A weak smile curled the edges of her lips. "Quite right too."

She gave an almost inaudible sigh, and a golden mist escaped from her lips. John watched, waiting for her to breath in again, but she never did. There was a faint glistening of gold light in her eyes, and then it faded. He could feel her walking away from him along that beach, turning one last time to smile at him before being enveloped by the golden light.

His chest heaved with sobs as his grief poured out. For one hundred years, she had been there in his head, a comforting, supporting presence, and now he was alone. More alone than he had ever felt in his oh so long life.

"We had the best of times though, didn't we Rose? All the running, the adventures. The places we've been to in our TARDIS, the things we've seen, the things we've show our children."

Five other presences knocked at the door of his consciousness, and he could feel their sorrow and grief for the loss of their mother. He let them in, and together they mourned the passing of Rose Marion Smith.