Rose remained beside the TARDIS for what seemed like ages, clutching the now-dead handset to her ear, trying to wrap her head around the Doctor's last words. He loved her? The Doctor actually, really, truly loved her? And had said so? She'd thought they were getting closer, but aside from the unfortunate Jabe the tree person back on Platform One, the Doctor didn't really flirt with anyone – much to Jack's chagrin – so despite 'I could save the world but lose you' and the entire moves conversation, Rose hadn't allowed herself to hope too much.
But now he'd outright said he loved her. An older version, granted, but still… That had to mean the current one had feelings for her. Right?
A wash of warm amusement from the TARDIS jolted Rose back to her surroundings. "Right," she said, slowly putting the receiver back in its compartment. "Doctor. Doctors. Two of 'em. Unconscious. Right." She took a step away from the TARDIS and immediately felt as though something had popped, deep in a part of her brain that she'd never realised existed.
"What was that?" she wondered out loud, shaking her head.
The impression she got from the TARDIS this time was more of an image than a feeling, of herself in a bubble moving at a fast clip, while people outside seemed to move as though they were dragging through treacle.
"You… wrapped me in a time bubble?" Rose guessed. "So I had time to talk to the Doctor?"
Even as the TARDISes hummed in affirmation, she could hear her mum and Mickey beginning to clatter their way back down the stairs from the flat.
"This one, too?" Jackie asked as soon as they were close enough to Rose.
"Yeah," Rose agreed. "But listen; I've just spoken to the Doctor. He says they only need a superheated infusion of free radicals and tannins–"
"You what?" Jackie interrupted.
Rose rolled her eyes at herself. "Tea, Mum," she said. "They just need a cuppa. So why don't you go and put the kettle on, and me an' Mickey'll get him upstairs."
Muttering something that Rose carefully didn't listen to, Jackie turned and headed back up the stairs again, leaving Mickey and Rose to work out how to lever the newest Doctor up between them.
"So go on, then," Mickey panted out as he hauled the Doctor's shoulders up. "What's really going on?"
Rose scrambled to get a grip on the Doctor's legs. She was surprised he was even still in his trousers, they looked so ridiculous on him. Just what had the previous one looked like? And why?! "I've already told you all I know," she informed Mickey, finally managing to help lift the comatose Doctor.
"Super infusion of free tannins?" Mickey scoffed. "Come off it, babe. Your mum's not here now; you can tell me. 'Cos you weren't talking to 'im. Not the one that we lugged upstairs before."
Rose felt the urge to sigh heavily, but saved her breath for the climb. "It was a superheated infusion of free radicals and tannins," she said. Okay, so she wasn't saving all of her breath. "And I was so talking to the Doctor. He has a time machine, remember?" she added, pointedly. "He called from the past. And the future."
"Bit hard to forget he has a bloody time machine," grumbled Mickey, barely hoisting the Doctor's head high enough to avoid smacking it into a wall as they turned a corner. "Not like you don't talk about it every chance you get."
"It's my home, Mickey," Rose snapped at him. "What, you just expect me to never mention it so you can carry on thinking things will go back to the way they were?"
Mickey stared at her for the two minutes it took them to reach the flat. Good news for the Doctor, because otherwise Rose reckoned that Mickey would have just dropped him where he was. And the Doctor probably had enough injuries already.
"Put 'im in 'ere!" Jackie ordered as they inched carefully through the front door she was holding open for them. She was pointing at her bedroom.
"We're not putting him in your bed," Rose objected, and nodded her head over Mickey's shoulder. "We'll put him on the sofa."
"And what's wrong with my bed?" demanded her mum, slamming the door shut. "It's not like we can use yours," she added, snidely, dogging their footsteps into the living room. "The other one's in that."
Rose rolled her eyes, but this time saved her breath. "Where's that tea, Mum?" Well, mostly.
Jackie muttered under her breath and headed towards the kitchen as Rose and Mickey gratefully lowered the second Doctor onto the sofa. His head rolled to the side as soon as it hit the cushion, and he murmured something.
"What did he say?" Rose asked, but Mickey had already stepped away, shaking his head. It seemed his delight at seeing Rose again had already faded. Rose took a step closer to the Doctor's head and bent over him. He muttered again, and tossed his head the other way. "Something about not letting the tree in?" Rose mused, straightening up.
"What's he on about?" asked Jackie.
"I don't know, Mum," Rose admitted with a sigh. "Want a hand with that tea?"
"Here." Jackie was already holding out a mug. "How are you supposed to get it down 'im?" she asked. She moved over and peered down at the Doctor. "Blimey, he's even older than the other one!" she exclaimed.
"Mum!" Rose exclaimed, mortified.
"Well, he is!" Jackie protested.
He was, but that was beside the point. "Just… shut up!" Rose snapped. "What if he hears you? He's in a coma, not dead."
Jackie rolled her eyes. "I doubt he'll care much what I think," she said, sourly, and retreated to the kitchen. Rose heard her put the kettle on again.
Putting the mug on the small table, Rose carefully sat on the edge of the sofa and considered the best way of getting the tea into the Doctor. Of course, it'd be a lot easier if she had an extra pair of hands to help haul him upright, but when she glanced around the flat, Mickey had gone.
Deciding to ignore her ex-boyfriend's histrionics, Rose managed to manoeuvre the Doctor's head onto her shoulder and reach for the mug of tea again without either spilling one or dropping the other.
Of course, it would still be easier with another pair of hands, but thankfully, just placing the mug against his mouth and a whispered, "Drink, Doctor," caused him to begin sipping the liquid.
It was immediately apparent when it began working. The Doctor paused, sighed, and somehow went even more lax against her. Half the mug later, he stopped drinking again, and his eyelashes began fluttering.
"Doctor?" Rose asked, moving the mug away in case he suddenly sat up in a fit of mania.
"Rose," he murmured, turning his face further towards her neck. "Rose."
"That's me," Rose agreed. "Are you waking up yet, Doctor? Because, let me tell ya, you've got a lot of explaining to do!"
There was a loud burst of obnoxious Christmas music outside the flat, and the Doctor scowled. "Tree," he mumbled. "Don't let the tree in."
Rose frowned. That was what she'd thought he'd said before. But what was he on about? What tree? "What tree?" she repeated, out loud. The Doctor didn't answer, so she shook him gently. "Doctor, what tree?" she asked insistently.
"Christmas tree," he said.
At the same moment, there was a knock on the flat's front door. "I'll get it!" Jackie carolled.
As if he'd been electrocuted, the Doctor's eyes shot open and he lurched upright, almost spilling Rose off the sofa. "No!" he shouted, already scrambling off the sofa and towards Jackie and the door. "Don't open it, leave it out there!"
"Leave what out there?" Jackie demanded, placing her hands on her hips and scowling at the Doctor. "Did crashing that ship of yours scramble your brains?"
"Wait, Mum!" Rose called, almost tripping over the arm of the sofa as she tried to stand up, turn around and follow the Doctor all at the same time. "He's the older one; he knows what happens!"
"That's right," the Doctor agreed. "And you should listen to me now, Jackie, even if you've never done so before."
Jackie huffed in offence. "Bloomin' cheek," she complained, but she still stepped away from the front door.
The Doctor was hastily patting himself down. "Where is it?" he muttered to himself. "Where the hell did I stash the thing…?" He finally produced something that looked like the sonic screwdriver from an outside pocket. "What the hell did I put it there for?" he wondered, but apparently dismissed the thought as he brandished it at the door.
From outside, there was a burst of static, and then a feeling in the air that lifted the hairs on the back of Rose's neck.
"What was that?" she asked.
"Pilot fish," said the Doctor, and he sagged abruptly towards the wall. Rose barely managed to get her shoulder under his arm in time to stop him from collapsing completely.
Jackie snorted. "Fish?" she repeated, scornfully. "Don't be daft! How could there be fish in front of my flat?"
"Not literal fish, Jackie," the Doctor corrected. "They're robots that tend to congregate around more dangerous species, offering aid in return for protection." He suddenly groaned and clutched at his side. Rose tightened her grip. "I'm still cooking," the Doctor said. He huffed a laugh through his nose. "A different incarnation and still woken too early."
Rose frowned. "Will more tea help?" she asked.
"Well, it can't exactly hurt," the Doctor said, which was agreement of sorts, Rose supposed.
She rolled her eyes as she helped the Doctor turn towards the living room. "Could have just said 'yes', ya know," she informed him.
"That's me," he said. "Still rude and not ginger. Although…" He paused. "I have just regenerated," he continued, contemplatively. "And a new cycle, to boot. Perhaps… Rose, am I ginger?"
"Are you what?" Rose almost dropped him back onto the sofa. "Ginger?" She flicked a glance up at his wild, curly hair. "No, sorry, just grey," she said.
The Doctor scowled fiercely. "Grey?" he repeated, sounding mortally offended. "Grey?! That's even worse than brown!" He reached a shaky hand upwards to curl his fingers into his hair, as if the mere touch would tell him that Rose had lied to him. And then, in a lightning-fast change that Rose was becoming sort of used to, his eyes snapped up to focus on hers. "And what's wrong with your accent?" the Doctor demanded. "You sound funny; all… English. I don't like it – you should change back immediately."
Rose raised her eyebrows at him. "What's wrong with my accent?" she asked. "I've not changed anything. You're the one who regenerated. Twice!" she added, remembering the other version of him that was still passed out in her bedroom. Perhaps it had been a mistake to tend to the older one first, but Rose had hoped that his additional memories might help.
"You sound all English," the Doctor complained, bringing her back to the conversation. "And Jackie's developed the same fault. Although she's got so many others, I doubt one more will matter…"
"Oi!" snapped Jackie from the doorway, as Rose bit her lip to stifle a laugh. Oddly enough, despite the raging Scottish accent this Doctor had, he sounded a great deal like her Doctor had. And suddenly, she could see it; what the other version had been trying to tell her before he'd gone insane and crashed the TARDIS – they were the same man. Despite the outwardly different looks, deep inside they were still the same person who had taken her hand in Henrik's basement and said, 'run'. She hadn't lost the Doctor at all. "You're the one with the different accent!" Jackie was continuing. "You're all Scottish." She said it with the same disdain the Doctor had used for 'English' just moments before.
Rose smiled at the Doctor, the special smile she used just for him. "I suppose you're going to say lots of planets have a Scotland?" she teased.
The Doctor stared at her for a moment, then remembrance dawned in his eyes. "Well, it's still north," he said. "Just a bit further… north." And then he grinned at her, the wild, excited grin that he'd often given her when they'd landed on a new alien planet.
And Rose finally broke.
The Doctor's amusement faded as he watched Rose's smile wobble and her eyes slowly fill with tears. "Rose, what–?" he began, alarmed, but cut off with an oomph as Rose all but flung herself on him.
He flailed for a moment – he wasn't certain he liked hugging in this new body – but then his brain reminded him of just how long it had been since he'd been able to hold Rose Tyler, and he found his arms enfolded her as naturally as they had done when he was Pinstripes, or even Big Ears and Leather.
"Oh, Rose, precious girl, don't cry," he murmured into her hair.
He could sense his other self stirring in Rose's bedroom. Unsurprising; the first time round – his first time round – he'd woken early because Rose was in danger. It only made sense that her distress would stir him this time, too.
He found himself humming a Gallifreyan song that he'd all but forgotten the words to, and gradually, her sobs slowed. She murmured something that seemed to include the words 'lost you' into his shoulder.
"I'm still here," he said, softly, in response. "I'm still me, Rose."
Sniffing, Rose sat back, and the Doctor reluctantly dropped his arms from around her. She scrubbed her sleeve over her face, then abruptly smacked him on the shoulder. "Ouch!" he protested, rubbing his shoulder petulantly, even though she'd not even come close to hurting him. "What was that for?"
"I know you're still you, you idiot," Rose informed him. "But I almost lost you! You sent me away – and don't think I've forgotten about the way you tricked me into that, mister! – knowing you were going to die."
"Well, I hoped otherwise," the Doctor muttered, and Rose scowled at him. He sighed. "If it comes down to you or me, Rose, I'll always choose you," he said. "Don't ask me to regret that, because I won't."
"And what d'you think I'll do without you?" she snapped back. "Go back to the way things were before? Back to the Estate, back to the shop, back to Mickey, back to… what did you say when we first met?... back to beans on toast?"
The Doctor opened his mouth. "I–" And closed it again. Perhaps his ninth self had thought that, or something similar, but travelling with him had changed Rose. The first time she'd been trapped in Pete's World, even as she worked to find a way back to him, she had done things. She'd gone back to school, worked with Pete and Torchwood to be able to help all those different species out there.
"I suppose not," he admitted, finally.
Rose quirked a small, tremulous smile at him. "Definitely not," she agreed. "I didn't even last an hour before I was trying to get back to you."
"She was in a right old state," Jackie agreed, making them both jump. They'd forgotten she was still in the flat. "Even went right off her chips."
"Mum!" Rose exclaimed, horrified, as the Doctor considered this. It probably meant something that she'd foregone one of her favourite foods in favour of getting back to him. "How long have you been standing there?"
"I wasn't listening!" protested Jackie, in the faux-innocent air that meant she'd been eavesdropping for all she was worth. "I was just coming to tell you, the other one's stirring. I was on my way to fetch him a cuppa…"
The Doctor began shifting Rose to the side so he could gain his feet. "I'll take it to him," he said, hastily. "Goodness knows he's already traumatised enough…"
"Oi!" Jackie planted her fists on her hips, glaring at him. "You're asking for a right old slap, you are!"
"Give it to him," the Doctor advised. "I'll remember it, promise." He cast a sly smile at Rose as she unsuccessfully stifled a snort.
Jackie rolled her eyes heavenwards as the Doctor finally stood up and made his still unsteady way towards Rose's bedroom. "Honestly," she tutted to her daughter, not bothering to lower her voice any, "he's even worse than the first one!"
The Doctor paused beside her. "It's good to see you, Jackie," he said to her, sincerely.
And before she could give any response to that, he'd stepped into Rose's room and closed the door in her face.