Author's Note: Well, what can I say? A year an four months later, here is chapter IX. I was sitting around, writing a lot of my various other things, and I remembered all the people who have been following this story and deserve for it to be finished, or at least continued. I mean, I have a lot on my plate right now, so the ned update may not be for a long while. But I suddenly really missed this story, so I thought... why not work on it some more? Maybe, one day, in the years to come, I will actually get it finished.

Chapter IX – To All, A Good Night

She had known it was him before he'd even said anything. Part of her, deep down, had always known. However, it didn't make turning around and seeing him standing there – right there, in the doorway – any easier to deal with. Rose wanted to laugh, and she did. She wanted to cry, and did that too. She wanted to shout, wanted to run, wanted to close her eyes and pretend it wasn't happening. She wanted to do all of these at the same time, and more.

As it turned out, what she ended up with were wide eyes, mouth agape, and a dusty lump in the back of her throat. He walked forward, oblivious, grinning that stupid grin like he hadn't died and left her all alone. She could only stare at him until he was just a few inches away, and even then blinking was an effort. She could hear him breathing, for crying out loud. Actually hear the breaths he was taking in, see them in the rise of his shoulders, feel it on her when he breathed out. It was nothing to what she could see.

Deep eyes, frozen ponds on a grey winter day. Cold and calculating, yet always so warm when they were on her. Strong nose, cheeks crafted with strength, mouth shaped from passion. And those ridiculous ears that probably broke some sort of law. He was there. Right there. Her Doctor.

And she couldn't say a word.

"You all right? You look as though you've seen a ghost." He reached up and tapped his knuckles against her head, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

She broke. Tears streamed down her face as she flung her arms around him, burying her head in his neck. She could smell leather that she hadn't smelled in months, feel strong arms she thought she'd never feel again, taste tears that she had sworn she would never cry for him. He was here, in arm's reach, and she hugged herself against him as if letting go would mean never seeing him again.

The Doctor, unsurprisingly, was startled. He patted her awkwardly, peering down out of the corner of his eye to the top of her head. He could feel her shaking in his arms and stilled his hand, breathing out rather more loudly than he meant to. She withdrew in an embarrassed moment, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

"Sorry," she sniffed.

Rose kept her eyes firmly on the floor, fiddling with her hands and making every effort not to look to him.

"Don't be sorry," the Doctor told her, and took her shaking hand. She had to look up, because it was impossible not to. Even through a film of tears, he looked exactly like she remembered him, all needless worry and angry compassion. "What's happened? You and your Mum have a fight?"

"My... my Mum...?" she asked weakly after a hiccup.

The Doctor frowned. "Yes, your Mum. The woman you've just been staying with. You know: batty old woman who claims to be related to you and therefore has rights over your life. Personally, I can't see what the hell she's getting at, you're nothing like her. 'Cept when you're angry – you're a whole new woman when you're angry. Oi, what you smiling at? Have I got dandruff in my hair, or something?"

Rose shook her head, smiling through her tears. "I forgot how much you used to ramble in this version, too."

"Er – this... version?" he asked uncertainly, dropping her hand and putting his own to his chest. "What d'you mean 'this version'?"

"Regeneration," she explained with a brief wave of her hand. "It's sort of a way of cheating – "

"Yeah, I know what it is," the Doctor interrupted, brows ridged into a frown. He folded his arms. "But you don't. Or you shouldn't. What's going on?"

Rose took in a breath and swallowed, wiping the back of her hand over her eyes. "It's... complicated."

"Well then, you'd better start explaining," he said curtly, all humour gone.

At this, her head snapped up again, eyes fierce. "You know, you can be really mean when you want to be."

His tensed shoulders dropped, along with his face. Taking in a sigh, the Doctor unfolded his arms and shook his head, stepping backwards towards the controls. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be. It's just – " He met her gaze. "How can you know? I haven't told you about it, and I don't like to think you've been spying on me."

"No, I haven't."

"So answer the question," he countered gently, almost pleadingly.

Rose hesitated with bated breath. She shifted her footing, edging around the console to put it between her and the Doctor. Her mind kept flitting between decision to stare at him, and decision to do anything but. She settled, at last, with focusing on a monitor that showed him hovering in her peripheral vision. The way he held himself – hands tensed on the metal frame, face drawn, shoulders high – told her he felt the awkwardness in the air.

How could she just tell him? How could she stand to say that she was just 'passing through'? She didn't even have an explanation that made sense. How was he still alive? What happened to him? How long would she have with him? Questions bombarded her like the incessant trill of a hammer on a nail that won't go into a wall. Of all the things to talk about, when she'd wished she had this chance to speak to him again, she hardly wanted to be explaining what she was doing here. It barely made sense in her head. Jumping from realities... it was absurd, really. It didn't happen. Mind, anything could happen with the Doctor around.

"I'm sorta... from a parallel universe... I think," she offered at last, gaze flicking to the control she was running her hand over.

The Doctor straightened defensively. "Parallel universe? Well, that's a new one."

"You don't believe me," Rose said, sensing the tone in his voice and looking up.

He held her gaze. "No, I don't."

She could hardly blame him, she supposed. She wasn't even sure if she believed it. It was purely because she couldn't see any other alternative that she kept pushing this theory, almost willing it to be true. The fact of the matter was that she didn't really know what was happening, why, or how to stop it. She didn't even know how to get things back to the way they were. Everything seemed to be centred on the Doctor, but where the connection came in, Rose couldn't quite see. All she had was her mind, a few confused memories, and a wayward explanation. She couldn't see the good any of it would do her without a Doctor who knew what was going on.

"Then what?" Rose laughed piteously. "You said it could happen. How else do you explain why I've been hopping between all the different version of you?"

"You've seen other regenerations?" the Doctor asked loudly, frown deepening. He blinked and looked away, shaking his head and starting to pace. "This doesn't make sense. I dropped you off in London – you weren't from a 'parallel universe' then, were you? How can you come back now and say all this? What's happened?"

This last question was spoken with worry and he moved towards her. Rose, on instinct, moved away.

"I'm – not – your – Rose," she told him, emphasising every word. His eyes locked on hers as he stood before her. He took her face in his hands, bending a little to level her eye line. His eyes roamed her face, inspecting her, checking her, looking over every curve and crevice. He looked into her eyes, over the bridge of her nose, of curve of her cheeks, the dip of her chin, the pout of he lips. Eventually, the Doctor pulled back, seemingly satisfied.

"You look like my Rose," he offered at last, voice stern. "Same age, and everything."

"Well I would, wouldn't I?" she asked, slightly jolted by his contact.

"No," he countered quickly. "Not if you were from a parallel. Parallels are different; they're different in the way they're built, in their DNA, in the way their minds work. You're just like mine – which means that you are." His eyes softened. "And it means that something's happened to you while you were visiting your Mum. Someone's fiddled with your brain, with your memories, put in certain pieces and taken out other ones. They've moulded you and changed you, must have. Made you believe things you didn't even know. And then they sent you back to me, all... different."

"I'm not your Rose," she repeated, for lack of anything else to say. Staring up into the calm peace of his eyes, she almost wanted to believe it. He put a hand on her elbow and squeezed gently, offering her a smile she hadn't seen in months. It would be so easy to believe him, to play pretend and stay here with the life they should have had. But then her mind flicked back to the Doctor he had become, the Doctor she had followed and become a part of: the Doctor she couldn't leave behind. "...You're not my Doctor."

He tilted his head, his entire face drawn back with worry. "I'm sorry you think that, Rose. I really am."

She tucked her arm in and turned away, reaching to brush the hair from her face. The Doctor watched her carefully.

"You won't even let me look at you?" he asked quietly. She didn't meet his eye. "You won't let me check you're all right? Won't let me fix you?"

"Doctor, listen to me," Rose told him sternly, shrugging away from him and wandering past the controls. "I'm not from your world, or your time. I haven't been abducted, by brain hasn't been fiddled with, or whatever. Seems I'm just passing through loads of... of different realities, I guess. The last three have been – well, the new you, I s'pose."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow as he watched her. "New me?" he asked sceptically, folding his arms. "And what happened in these 'alternate realities'?"

Rose sighed. "Well first you went sort of... creepy. Thought you wanted to kill me, actually." She laughed weakly, but when the Doctor showed no signs of being amused, she continued, circling the controls. "Then I thought I was back, but come to think of it, not so sure now. You seemed a bit off-colour. Then you disappeared into the middle of nowhere, so I don't know. And then... then a different you turned up and I – the other me for that... universe – had stayed with Mickey in an alternate Earth, so he was all alone. He was a bit off, too, actually. Kept changing his mood, like he couldn't decide who he was. Wouldn't have called him 'Doctor' – didn't feel like 'Doctor'. Then he said he'd help me and to wait in the control room, and so... here I am."

She dared to look up to the Doctor. He was frowning so hard, she could practically see his physical effort to try and work it all out.

"Sounds a bit weird, come to think of it," she added helpfully. He met her eye.

"Sounds a bit like you've fallen through some horrific sci-fi cliché, yeah," the Doctor agreed with a tight nod of his head. He stepped towards Rose slowly, his eyes on her like a predator. "You don't think it's just the smallest bit odd for all that to happen to you? I mean, parallels Rose: they're not easy to just 'fall' through, especially not now my people aren't around to instigate it. There isn't enough power in any one universe for that. I mean, the possibility of it happening once is a stretch, let alone three or four times. Which means there's another explanation – don't you think?"

His gaze was unnerving and Rose found her mouth going slightly dry. "I dunno," she shrugged, looking away. "Maybe."

"Which means that you can trust me," he continued in a softer tone as he walked to stand next to her. "I don't know what's happened, but it's made you think you don't belong here. If I took a look at you in the infirmary, I could probably sort it all out. I mean, no offence, but parallel universes? My regeneration? Sounds a bit like wishful thinking, if you ask me." He said this last comment with a grin, nudging Rose's shoulder with his own.

She gave a laugh through her nose and turned to look up at him. He gave her a soft smile.

"He – He's not made up, though," Rose said, a little shakily.

"Who isn't?" the Doctor asked, leaning back against the control unit and in the same movement sliding closer to her.

"The other... the other you..." She frowned and looked away, shaking her head. She could picture the other Doctor in her mind, see him there grinning at her. But compared with the Doctor sitting next to her now, compared with the gentle aroma of his jacket or the look of his crystal eyes, or the feel of his shoulder against hers – was it really so tangible?

Then again, everything she had been through, everything she had felt – it couldn't just have been made up. The answer wasn't as simple as that. This Doctor, from this universe, must be wrong.

The trouble was, Rose wasn't sure which part of her to believe. She didn't even know what she wanted to believe.

"Rose."

He said her name gently, in that tone she thought had died with him. She swallowed, but kept her gaze forward, part of her fearing that he wouldn't be there if she turned. Then she felt his hand, warming it by her side as he slipped his fingers through hers. She had to look then. She felt her breath tighten in her chest at the touch, firm yet gentle, between hers. She had never expected to feel those fingers take her hand again.

"Let me help you?" he pleaded quietly, eyes shining. "Let me try and sort this all out." Then, as an afterthought, he added, "You look shattered."

"I am shattered," she half laughed, leaning into his shoulder.

Her eyes drifted upwards and she met his – they were staring at her intensely, though he wasn't in the least bit menacing. The grip on her hand tightened.

"Come with me."

She couldn't tell if it was a question or a command. The next thing she knew, she was being led through the control room and down the corridor. Their footsteps echoed through the empty ship as they walked, a comforting noise compared to the silence that usually laced it. Not quite sure why, Rose began counting the doors they passed and tried to imagine what was behind them. None gave any clues so, using her imagination, she pictured a gym, a bathroom, a kitchen, a garden, a sitting room, a library – smaller than the main one – and a spare bedroom. By the time they reached the eighth door, Rose was just about wondering if he could have an entire mansion locked away in here when the Doctor pushed it open to reveal a clinical white Medical room.

He offered her a reassuring smile as he turned, walking into the room backwards with his eyes on her. He wordlessly walked them to one of the flat beds, then patted it invitingly. Rose looked uncertainly at it a moment or two, not quite sure what the Doctor meant to do with her.

"I'm going to run some tests," he explained, as if reading her mind. "Once you're asleep, your body will be at complete ease. I'll be able to watch and check your vital signs, then see what's wrong and how to fix it."

"It's the parallel thing, Doctor," she countered, her mind feeling as though it were growing cotton wool from the inside out. "It's got to be – it's just... it's got to be."

He looked at her tenderly. "Even if it is," he answered, though from his voice, Rose could tell he didn't believe it, "then I'll need to see what the problem is. It isn't normal, and we all want you back to how you should be. Besides, you know me. You trust me – I hope – so what's the problem?"

Shifting from one foot to the other, Rose broke her hand from his. In all honesty, the problem was that she felt like she was betraying her Doctor – the one, wherever he was right now, who she'd got used to, who'd taken her under his wing a second time and cared for her in a way she suspected he cared for little others. The one who had taken her amazing places, including breakfast out at Greece only that morning, and the one whose morning custom and greetings she had become fond of. Could that really have been so unreal?

"Yeah, all right," she sighed after a moment, reaching to tuck her hair behind her ear. "I want to know what's going as much as you do."

The Doctor nodded, evidently pleased, then waited while Rose hopped up onto the bed and lay down. Head turned towards him, she could already feel her eyes drooping. It hadn't been that long since she'd slept, surely?

The Doctor stood next to her, eyes focused.

"Close your eyes, Rose," he told her gently, resting his hand on the bed beside her. She did so. She felt the feather-light tickle of fingers and thumb on her temples as he stretched a hand over her closed lids. When he spoke, it sounded distant, as though he were calling to her from several hundred metres away. "I need you to sleep for me – think you can do that?"

"I do feel sort of tired," Rose replied through a thick yawn.

Not quite sure how, she knew the Doctor was smiling at her.

"Relax your mind," he instructed, patience and caring soft at the edges of his voice. "Relax everything inside you. All that strain, all that tension – just let it go."

The hand moved, but she was barely aware of it as his voice swirled around her, calm and gentle as leaves in an autumn wind.

"Everything that ever frightened you, everything you've ever doubted, just put it all away and come with me. Come with me where you'll be safe. Nothing to hurt you, nothing to trick you, nothing to make you feel any less of the magnificent person that you are."

His voice was faint now, not quite a whisper, but definitely gentle. Her autumn breeze had become just a breath of wind.

"When you count to three, you'll fall completely asleep, and everything will be as it should be. I'll be here, waiting for you. It's all in your hands now, Rose. Count for me."

She felt distant, cut off, like nothing mattered. Stars would burn, so would people, and it meant nothing. With a wave of a finger, she felt she could destroy life. Equally she could create. An entire universe could be made and burned out, and she would have merely taken a breath. There was a hold, somewhere on her, a connection to something. Something more. She wanted it.

one

"I'll be right here, Rose, waiting for you. All you have to do is let yourself dream."

Two...

"Count, Rose, and let go. I promise. I promise you everything. I promise you Gallifrey, if you'll just let go."

Three.

-I-

Rose was trapped in a world she knew she didn't belong in. It was empty, incomplete. She had her family – her whole family – and she had Mickey. She was even an older sister. Her Mum and Dad were finally together and Mickey was welcomed as if he were part of them. From the outside, it may have looked perfect. But she knew it wasn't. Everything was cold and lifeless, painted in the same shade of grey that she couldn't escape from. All the people on the street moved around her, solemn and silent in this scrap of a world. She had a job that paid well, she had friends who pretended to like her, and she had experienced years behind her that, for some reason, she knew no one else could match.

But there was something hollowed out within her, something that whenever she tried to think about it would hurt so much that she would cry. She didn't know what it was, what she wanted, except that it lay on the other side. The other side... what did that mean? Death? Dreams? Australia? None of those felt right. They just added to the bland wrongness that made up her life. The closest she got to feeling even a little bit normal was working for her father's business. Consequently, Rose often ended up spending late nights there working when she didn't really need to.

Whatever was missing, she felt close to it here.

She saw her life in the blink of a second. It passed her by, tasteless, like stale cornflakes from the bottom of the box. She missed opportunities that most would have died for. She never got married. She never built a family. She never stopped looking. And she never found... never found... the word wanted to form itself as 'him', but that couldn't be right. She had lots of men in her life, some of whom would have offered her great comfort and happiness. Yet somehow, if she kept herself miserable, perhaps the balance that had been taken from her would be given back.

The other side... him... Why couldn't she remember? Why, with those words together, did her heart race and a feeling of warmth spread through her? She began to change, began to think, began to see the world in colour. Something made sense. She had to hold on. She couldn't let go.

But then there was a scream.

And then there was nothing.

Rose opened her eyes and sat bolt right up in bed. A white gown fell around her and something painful ripped at her skin in her movement. Slightly dazed, she looked around. A monitor on her left was beeping rhythmically and she stared at it a moment. She felt uncertainly up her arm, felt patches stuck to her skin with wires attached. She gasped when she saw a long needled inserted into her hand, following a wire that led up to a bag on a large frame. It held colourless liquid trapped inside. Rose peered at it for a second or two, before feeling instantly dizzy and sick. She lay down on the clinical bed again, angling her head to look out of the door.

She knew where she was, if she had had the strength to think. The TARDIS Medical Lab. Well, at least that was something.

With a frown that threatened to break into tears, she tried to cling to her dream. It had been so empty, so dull, so close to breaking her heart – why would she dream that? Memories of it floated back to her, a tall man in a pinstriped suit and long trench coat. He had stupid hair, she thought when she pictured him in her mind. He called himself Doctor. But then... then she remembered the leather jacket, the cool eyes, the grinning face. Her heart relaxed a little. He was her Doctor, too. They couldn't both be her Doctor.

Rose thought hard. Colours swirled in her head like the remnants of an artist's pallet, vibrant and bold but not all together clear. The things she'd done, the places she'd been – they all seemed so distant now. All she could trust, Rose decided, was what she knew. The here and now. Everything else was just backlog from her mind and from her dream.

But what was here and now? Why was her head hurting? Why was she hooked up to units in the infirmary? What had happened to her? She didn't know. She didn't know what to trust or what to feel. And she only realised she was crying when the tears trickled to her temple and soaked the pillow she was lying on.

A shadow appeared in the doorway. It stilled and hovered there for a moment, as if moving would break the spell. Then he began to walk forwards, slowly, his face so gentle that Rose wondered if a broken heart was easy enough to show on a person's face.

"Wotcha," she croaked, her voice cracked like clay that had been out in the sun too long.

Only the smallest hints of a smile passed over his face and he paused, right next to the bed, reaching a hand to her face. He deftly wiped the few tears from her cheeks, face quivering somewhat as he looked at her.

"You're awake," he said softly, almost as though he couldn't believe it.

Rose nodded against the pillow, then closed her eyes when he withdrew his hand.

"I think so," she answered in a quiet voice. "Feel a bit... sick, though. What's – " She had to take an exhausted breath before continuing. "What's going on?"

His hands moved to rest beside her stomach.

"You've been out cold for days. You're lucky I found you, the state you were in – I don't know how you got away. Still, your cuts are all fixed up now, and the poison's worn off." He forced a smile. "Good as new."

"Poison?"

Rose, who could see through him like a sheet of glass to his guilt, moved to sit up. However, a hand on her shoulder kept her down.

"No, Rose. You need to keep your strength up."

He crouched down out of sight for a moment, re-emerging with a glass of water.

"Here."

She took the offered water and sipped at it, careful not to spill it. Holding it carefully to her chest, she looked at him again.

"What d'you mean poison?" she asked quietly, head feeling thick and needled. "What happened with the... the testing thing?" She took another sip of water. "About the parallels – what did you find?"

His face contorted into a frown so deep his brows almost met. A hand moved to her face again, cool against her skin.

"What about parallels?" he asked, meeting her gaze and searching her. "Parallel whats?"

Rose groaned and turned away from him to look at the ceiling. She really couldn't explain this again. She must have moved again, while she'd been asleep.

"I can't be bothered," she almost laughed, closing her eyes. She felt the heat of tears again, bitter and out of place. She wanted all of this over. She just wanted normality, she wanted what she knew, what she loved. She wanted her Doctor – whoever he was anymore.

There was a hand on hers, but she didn't open her eyes. It could be just another dream for all she knew.

She let out a wearied sigh and shook her head slightly. "All you need to know is that I'm not the Rose you know and that I'll be gone in not much time. So you may as well go do something else for a while, 'cause I'll be moving on soon."

"Poison must have addled your brain more than I thought," his voice muttered.

Rose's eyes snapped open. "Look," she almost spat, turning to him viciously. "I haven't had any 'poison'. I'm just... I'm here from somewhere else. I'm someone else, all right? You're not my Doctor, I'm not your Rose, so let's just leave it at that."

He raised an eyebrow. For a moment, Rose was convinced he had bought it. He turned and began to walk towards the door – only to pick up one of the chairs and bring it next to her on the bed, sitting in it and taking her hand in between both of his.

"Rose," he said gently. She refused to look at him, keeping her eyes to the ceiling. She couldn't bear having to go through this again, couldn't let him get close enough to hurt her when she left. Just like all the other times. She had to make it back to... to wherever it was that home was.

Home. The word beat around her head like a solitary drum in a music room. Home was where the heart was, they said. What if her heart was in more than one place?

"Rose, look at me." She couldn't ignore that soft tone in his voice no matter how strong she was. Autumn eyes met steely grey as their gazes passed each other. "I did some research on the poison you got injected with. It sends you into a coma-like state, where you're put into a dream world with all sorts of twists on the reality you're used to. It makes you want to – no, Rose, look at me." She had groaned again, turning away, but he squeezed her hand and pulled it gently. Reluctantly, her head fell back again to watch him. "It makes you want to believe your dreams," the Doctor continued. "It confuses you, plays on memories – even those you didn't know you had. It builds up a whole new world and keeps you there, until you find a way to break through. Or until you get the antidote, which I fantastically traced down and got for you."

He grinned, though it was weak. Rose didn't even have the energy to force a smile.

The Doctor nodded towards the water she was balancing on her chest still. "You'll want to keep your liquid intake up. Six days is enough for anyone to become dehydrated. You're lucky I've been able to keep you alive on a drip."

She blinked at the needle coming out of the hand holding the glass, followed it up to the bag. No wonder she felt so sick.

"I've got to get back to him," she told the Doctor sternly, eyes glistening with dry tears. "I've got to. He'll be all on his own."

The Doctor reached one of his fingers to trace a path around her hair, taking her hair with it. "He won't," he said gently. "Think about it hard now, Rose. Try and remember things about that place, wherever you were. I know it's hard. They'll all seem like a dream if you try. Come on, you know I'm telling the truth. You've got to." He edged closer to her in the chair, eyes intense. "Trust me, okay? Don't... don't go back there again. Don't leave."

She swallowed as the tears threatened to break. "I have to," she whispered. "I can't just leave him. I don't care what you say – he's real."

"But he's not real. He's just another part of you."

"He is real."

The Doctor let out a sigh and sank back into the chair, looking up to the ceiling and shaking his head.

"I love you, so much," he laughed bitterly. "You even fight to hold on to your dreams."

Rose stared at him. "You... you what?"

He moved his head to look at her again. "You don't need to act so surprised," he shrugged.

"Sorry," she mumbled, eyes flicking to the floor for a second. "'S just the first time you've said it."

His face gained a look that wasn't quite a frown, but hard and worried all the same. "Rose, I say it all the time. Every day," he said slowly, straightening in the chair. "Stop kidding around."

"Doctor, you've never said that to me," she said earnestly.

The Doctor's face fell. "Don't... don't tell me you don't remember?"

"Remember what?" she asked fearfully, feeling much like she had just forgotten one of the most important things in her life.

"Oh, Rose."

The Doctor bowed his head forward, resting his forehead to their clasped hands. After a moment or two, he stood, carefully taking the glass and helping Rose to her feet with him. He looked at her with sincerity.

"Don't you remember?" he asked again. Rose shook her head. "Not when I took your hand?" He did so. "Not when I said I'd almost lost you? Or how much I... How much of me would fall apart if ever I did?" She took in a staggered breath, the Doctor not helping with her fight to not cry. "What about when you told me you loved me? Remember that?" His voice was heart broken and Rose felt tears leak down her cheeks as she sniffed and shook her head reluctantly. The Doctor moved gently, cupping her cheek. "Don't you remember the way I held you close? Held you so tight, you accused me of trying to squash all the air out of you." He grinned shyly, but it faded within seconds. His hands tightened and he locked her gaze. "Don't you even remember when I kissed you?"

Rose hiccuped in return as she gazed up at him. Her held breath had almost become painful and she blinked slowly as her crying continued. This couldn't be real. It couldn't possibly be real. Her Doctor just wouldn't... he wouldn't tell her he loved her, even if it were true. He wouldn't tell her she meant more to him than worlds in the universe. He wouldn't kiss her.

Except, when he began to tilt his head towards her, she knew he would.

"Doctor," Rose said suddenly, turning her head from him. His lips grazed her cheek and she almost flinched. He dropped his hands from her like she'd bitten him and stepped backwards, almost tripping.

"I'm sorry. I thought it would help. Research told me what you're used to can help if there's memory problems from the poison."

She blushed, bringing her hand to wipe at her cheeks. Wires pulled at her arms, reminding her just how much of an invalid she had been. She glowered at the patches, as if she could make them jump off her body by sheer force of will.

Then, perhaps as a delayed reaction, the Doctor's words echoed around her head and she looked to him. He was standing with his back to her, hands on the surface that ran the circumference of the room. It was the same Medical Lab as with the other Doctor. Except... somehow that didn't feel quite right. He felt a little like a distant dream. She could remember him, for sure, but it was fragments of happenings she was picking up, like it had never really happened in the first place. If she really had been injected with poison that made her think things that weren't true... it would certainly excuse a lot of explanations he had simply glazed over.

"Where are we?" she asked. The Doctor turned and looked over his shoulder with an incredulous look.

"Don't tell me you don't recognise the TARDIS."

"Yeah, course," Rose countered quickly, not wanting to seem any more the fool than she already was. "I mean where... time-wise. Have we been to... to Satellite Five yet?"

He frowned and walked slowly over to her. For a second, their eyes met. Then he turned his attention to her arm, taking it in his hands and peeling off the wire attachments one at a time. It stung a little, but Rose listened as he replied.

"Yeah, ages ago. I hope that's not how far your memory's been wiped back – I'd have a hell of a time trying to get you to remember everything we've done since then. Hold still, this one's going to hurt."

He pulled gently at the needle in her hand and she winced with the searing pain. He looked up quickly when she tensed, sure he was hurting her. She nodded for him to continue so, with a hollowed look, he did.

"Sorry," he mumbled when the needle was out.

"'S all right," Rose shrugged, flexing her hand a much as she dared. "You were saying?"

"Well, plain and simple. How much do you remember?"

She paused, thinking at it from all angles. "Well, of you, I just remember waking up and you regenerating. The rest's all with the other you."

He gaped at her. "Me... you dreamed me regenerating? That's who you've been hopping about in your world with?"

"I didn't... dream it..." she told him uncertainly.

He cocked an eyebrow. "Don't sound so sure about that. When you woke up, you said something about parallels – was that what this 'other me' was? You dreamed you'd gone through a parallel?"

"No," she answered firmly. "Just... just recently, I've been flying between all these different realities with all these different Doctors. Most of them were him, but the last one was you. And now... it's you... again." She frowned, wrinkling up her nose. The Doctor almost laughed at her look, but subdued himself.

"That's how you know the poison's breaking," he informed her after a moment's contemplative silence. "The world it builds up begins to falter and break up, like a dodgy signal on a television screen. The image flickers, sometimes between channels, then eventually gives way to static, just before you wake up. I don't know what the 'static' is – could be anything. Any realm of possibilities. Outside all the laws of physics. I'm surprised you even woke up at all."

Rose moved to lean against the bed and folded her arms over her chest.

"It can't be that."

The Doctor fingered the lining of his pockets idly. "Why not?"

"Because..." She trailed off a moment, looking over his shoulder while she thought. "There's too much up here," she reasoned at last, tapping her head. "I didn't just... make it up. I can't have."

"'Cause it's all so real, yeah?" he challenged in return, flinging his hands to his sides in defeat. "That's how it works, Rose – don't you see? I got you the antidote, but all the after effects you'll be left with until you fight against them. Either that or you'll disappear into your safe little world for the rest of your life. It makes you think it's real, and until you want to believe otherwise, you'll always doubt me. So I guess the question is how much you trust me, how much you want the life you used to have before this happened."

"But I can't remember," she replied through gritted teeth. The Doctor groaned and shifted to turn away from her, shaking his head. Rose looked to the ceiling and sighed. "I don't even know what to believe anymore."

He wheeled around and stepped towards her, taking her hands and holding them to his chest. "Believe me, Rose. I'm the one who's real, I'm the one who's sat by your bed for the last six days, hoping against hope that you'd be strong enough to wake up."

She blinked at him, somewhat touched. Then a thought struck her, and she frowned.

"Thought you said you'd got me the antidote?"

"It only works twenty percent of the time. Literal kill or cure."

Rose's mouth dropped a little and he squeezed her hands in comfort. "Ki– kill or cure?"

"Yup," the Doctor confirmed, nodding slowly.

"So... what? You would have just let me – "

"No."

"But you just said – "

"I would have found another way."

"Even with – "

"I told you, Rose, no. The universes themselves couldn't keep me apart from you."

She had to practically squint through her obstinate tears. Shaking her head and blinking them away, Rose found her mouth completely dry.

"I just want to be me again," she croaked, so quietly she wasn't even sure if she'd said it aloud. "And I want you to be you."

The Doctor nodded and bent his head to look her right in the eye. "I know. I know you do. And hey, listen to me – " Dropping her hands, he cupped her cheeks. She met his eye, tears dribbling down her cheeks, and he grinned at her like she'd just found the other Time Lords. It was all mischief and happiness, eyes alight an wide. " – I'm gonna help you. I extracted some of the minor toxins from the poison, mixed them with the antidote and added something a little special of my own. If you're fighting enough, it'll help to keep your dream traps at bay. If you want, that is." He hesitated a moment, breath bated. "Do you want my help, Rose? You ready to come back to the real world?"

A million thoughts careered into Rose at once like traffic on the M42. She tried to block the irrational ones out, tried to make sense of things. But all she knew were the hands around her face and the eyes in front of her, willing an answer. There was that grin, too, a grin she had resigned herself to the fact she would never see again. Yet there it was.

What had happened to her? She questioned what she had gone through with the other Doctor, the one the poison had made for her. There had always been some strange feeling towards him, some reservation that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Hadn't there? He may have called himself the same man, but compared to the leather-clad iron-faced Doctor in front of her now, he was as much a comparison to his old self as paint is to sawdust. So different – and especially recently, when the poison was to be wearing off: hadn't he been trying to convince her he was exactly what she needed?

Her head hurt by the end of it. Pushing all thoughts that weren't instinct out of her head, Rose did what she felt was right.

She looked her Doctor in the eye and nodded.

-I-

The serum tasted like salt water. Given the choice between it and the injection, Rose happily took the little sachet the Doctor handed her and emptied it into her mouth. It fizzed in her mouth, spreading the tang of its taste to every corner before sliding down her throat. She grimaced, asking the Doctor why all medicine tasted so horrible.

He just laughed and shook his head.

"Humans – never appreciate what's good for them."

It was strange, being shown around a TARDIS she had been in before. Her room was the same, everything was in the same place and it all seemed back to normal. They sat in the kitchen for a while, Rose nibbling at the edges of a piece of toast while the Doctor watched her as if he expected her to collapse any minute. He declined the offer of a cup of tea, which left her with a momentary twinge at the revelation that he didn't really drink it. Silence parted them for a minute or two as she stared into space, chewing thoughtfully like a cow on the cud. The same mouthful must have gone around her mouth at least five times before the Doctor asked her what she was thinking about.

She didn't answer, instead swallowing and taking another bite.

After the poor excuse for breakfast, she rather shakily headed back to her room to get changed properly. Re-emerging some several minutes later to the console room, the look on the Doctor's face was well worth the complimenting jeans and shapely t-shirt she had picked out. However, after the brief compliment he gave her, neither of them spoke. Instead they wandered, every now and then catching each other's eye then looking away quickly. The Doctor's first attempt at conversation failed rapidly when he turned mid-sentence to find that Rose wasn't even in the room.

Searching for her, he found her in one of the side rooms of the TARDIS. It was a fairly blank room itself, but there was a window in the far wall at which Rose was stood. His footsteps echoed around the quiet room as he came to stand next to her, gazing out onto a bitter winter beach. It was empty, and even the single tree growing between a collection of rocks had no leaves.

"You all right?" he asked, keeping his eyes forward.

Rose started a little, like she hadn't know he was there. "Yeah."

"You disappeared."

"Sorry," she shrugged. "Just needed to be on my own."

"Oh."

Taking the hint, he turned to the door. She put a hand out instinctively, touching his arm.

"I can be alone with you here."

He frowned sadly, letting his gaze wander over her. She looked almost peaceful. She'd tied her hair back off her face, leaving just a grey pallor that matched the sand of the beach. Her eyes, once so alive with depth and colour, just stared forward a dismal oak as she watched the roaring shore. He glanced to the beach again, shifting on his feet.

"Tide's coming in," the Doctor commented, but when she didn't answer, fell into silence beside her.

She half wished he would take her hand, pull her into him, lead her away to something that used to be her life. But he just stood there, oblivious. So she settled with watching a bright red bird flutter about in the crashing wind, fighting to keep on its path. It gave up eventually, turning with the gale and heading back the way it had come.

Rose sighed, shaking her head.

"Never stood a chance..."

From the corner of her eye, he saw the Doctor turn his head. "What didn't?"

She didn't answer right away, not quite sure what she could say. After a moment or two, just as the Doctor was about to give up and find something else to do, she looked to him with a piteous frown.

"He was such a change from you," she told him truthfully.

"You can't go thinking about him like – "

"Yeah, I know. It's just, it's weird. That's all."

He caught her eye a moment, studying her. "Was he – ?" the Doctor began, but bit it back, shook his head and gazed out of the window. Rose put her hand gently over his on the window sill, tilting her head to look up at him.

"Was he what?" she asked gently.

He took in a breath. "Was he like me at all?"

"Yeah," she laughed. "In a way, he was."

"Oh?" the Doctor asked, turning to her with a crooked smile. "What way was that, then? Handsome? Charming? Ludicrously funny?"

Rose snorted. "Same big head, I see," she grinned, ignoring his incredulous look. "But he had hair. Lots of hair."

He looked offended. "I have hair," the Doctor returned, reaching a hand to prove it. "See?"

"Well yeah, but his hair was mad. You could, sorta, reach up and..."

The gaze they shared intensified for just a moment, the Doctor's eyes reflecting the light from the window. Then they each broke away, looking elsewhere. Rose, whose hand had moved from his wrist, fiddled with the belt hole of her jeans. The Doctor stood still.

"He was still you, though," she said quietly after a minute or two.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. He still cared. 'Bout all the planets and that, 'bout all the people on them. Never liked injustice."

The Doctor nodded tightly. "As he should. Nice to know that even the me in your head is still me on some level."

The quietness that haunted them next was only broken by the dim wash of water on the beach. It crept closer and closer towards the hill of dunes, but somehow never quite reached it.

Rose glanced to the Doctor once or twice. He was stood still, entranced by the scene. The waves threw images across his face, like they were watching a television screen rather than a window. His face was drawn back like someone was pulling at his edges, yet his mouth, nose and eyes stared forward, unmoving. He seemed both void of emotion and drowning in all different sorts. It was impossible to tell.

"You gonna look at me all day?" he asked presently, after she'd stared at him for at least thirty seconds.

She blushed and instantly looked away, curling her lips inwards a moment in embarrassment.

"Sorry."

The Doctor turned to her, grinning. "See something you like?" he teased, momentarily forgetting how much of a different woman he was used to.

Rose turned back to him, look equally flirtatious. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

They looked at each other for a moment, before Rose suddenly realised the Doctor had surreptitiously stopped smiling.

"He didn't treat you like this, did he?" he asked, holding her gaze in such a way that she would feel rude to break it.

"What do you mean?"

"The one in your head." He indicated with an eyebrow. "He was different. All talk and no action."

She had to fight very hard not to blush, taking a second or two to work out a response that wouldn't make her feel entirely stupid.

"He wasn't... really... anything," she answered weakly. "We just forgot, after a while. Or I think he did. He was almost the same, right after he'd regenerated. But then he fell asleep and woke up someone else. Even he didn't know who he was, so how the hell was I supposed to?"

The Doctor nodded. "I'm not judging you," he said quietly.

She swallowed. "I know."

Eyes on hers, he reached tentatively for her hand, brushing his thumb over her fingers. She let him, still amazed by how new it felt.

They didn't stay by the window much longer. Rose, feeling what little energy she had begin to wane, thought it was about time for another something to eat. The Doctor was all too keen to oblige, and she soon found herself sitting in front of a mug of hot tomato soup. She sipped at it and chuckled, to which he enquired why. He then proceeded to grumble and start fiddling with the settings on his sonic screwdriver, ignoring Rose's teasings about his inability to cook. She laughed after a moment, claiming that packet soup was much nicer than anything he could make anyway. At which point, she was thrown a dirty look before he went back to resonating the molecular structure of the front panel of wires in the console.

The Doctor worked while Rose sipped at her soup, and the two of them sat in companionable silence for most of her mug.

She drained the last dregs and wiped at her mouth, before sitting back into the sofa and gazing at the Doctor while he fiddled delicately with the wires.

He looked up. "Penny for them?"

Rose smiled, drumming her fingers on the mug. "I was just thinking about how weird it was, remembering stuff I haven't done."

The Doctor stood to his feet and pocketed the screwdriver, stretching his arms.

"How d'you mean?"

"Well, me and him, we did stuff. Saved the world and all that. Kinda weird to think that I've only just come back from Satellite Five."

He frowned, walking over to her slowly. "Rose, Satellite Five was months ago. Is that... is that all you remember? I mean, I know your memory's a bit off – that should come back – but it's quite a way to fall back."

"Well, unless you can tell me we hopped off to New Earth, cured an illness and met up with Cassandra again, that's about it."

The Doctor's mouth twitched into a smile as he gazed down at her. He sighed happily, then sat down next to her.

"You're such an ape," he grinned, turning to her on the sofa as he lay back into it. "More likely than not, the poison re-worked what it already knew into this other world. So, to answer you, yes, we went to New Earth, saved the victims and saw Cassandra again. Actually, if I remember rightly, it was her to thank for our..."

He trailed off, looking as though he'd said to much.

Rose, who could see he had just worked himself into a corner, smiled to herself. "Our what, Doctor?" she asked cheekily, knowing full well he didn't want to answer.

She also knew that he would ignore the question. Chuckling to herself, she gazed briefly to the ceiling.

"So you're telling me it was us who went to New Earth?"

"Yup."

"What about Queen Victoria?"

"Oh, yeah, she was a hell of a laugh. 'Sir Doctor of TARDIS'," he snorted. "I mean honestly, what sort of title is that?"

"It was the least she could do for us getting rid of her werewolf problem," Rose shrugged.

"I'm still shocked there was even a werewolf in Scotland, y'know. They're a pretty rare breed."

She grinned at him. "That's a point; I missed your Scottish accent."

He gave her an eyebrow-raised look, before attempting the dismal accent he had used at the Torchwood Estate. Rose caught his eye and they both burst into helpless giggles, each agreeing that he should never attempt anything remotely to do with Scotland again.

When the laughter had subsided, she looked to him playfully. "So, Sir Doctor," she teased. "What about Reinette? S'pose you loved getting frisky with her, yeah?"

If there was any laughter left hovering in the air, it died at her words. The Doctor looked at her with so much seriousness, Rose wished she hadn't said anything.

"What about Reinette?" he asked with a thick frown.

Rose coughed nervously. "Well, y'know. I just figured you two..."

The Doctor's eyebrows shot to his hairline. "Don't tell me the idiot in your mind went off with her."

"Not... in so many words," she shrugged, glancing to the floor. "He just... I dunno. You jump through a mirror on a horse for someone else, it tends to mean something."

He straightened, and had to try very hard not to flex his hand. He couldn't, however, stop the accusation in his voice.

"He left you."

She shyly looked up and met his eyes. What he saw told him everything he needed to know.

The Doctor looked to the console and swore softly, shaking his head bitterly. Rose bit her lip as she watched him, wondering if there was something she should do to calm him down.

"That should have been your first clue," he almost snapped, looking back to her. "I'd have never left you like that. Never leave you anywhere, in fact. I'll be the first to admit she was an interesting woman – and she sure knew how to handle her men. But she's nothing compared to you."

Rose felt colour rising in her cheeks and she wondered just how to take the compliment. He may not even have been sure what he'd said. Then again, the hand that reached for hers told her otherwise.

"You trying to call me a French courtesan, Doctor?" she asked playfully, figuring humour always worked when they were in sticky situations.

His eyes twinkled. "That depends – you certainly seemed to picked up a couple of her skills."

"Doctor!" She took her hand from his, hitting him on the arm. He laughed wholeheartedly, grinning away like she had just announced the birth of his favourite star. "I don't care what you say," she smiled, watching him carefully after he had settled. "I'm not that sort of girl."

The Doctor smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Oh? D'you want to see the bite marks?"

Eyes widened, Rose gaped at him a moment, not quite sure if he was joking. He was wearing that annoying expression where she just couldn't tell. Stumbling over a response, the Doctor just laughed again, shaking his head and patting her knee comfortingly. He lingered there a moment after the laughter had died away, looking at her with a soft expression.

"So..." Rose said, a little uncertainly. "How'd you sort out Reinette, then?"

He gave her a warm smile, before retracting his hand and standing.

"Oh, you know." He gave a modest shrug, then wandered over to a monitor on the side of the controls. He looked to Rose over the top of it while he worked at the wires by the side and continued. "Good old Ricky went on about a truck, or something. Wasn't really listening. Then you brought up that hologram thing, the thing I programmed into the TARDIS on Satellite Five." She noticed he avoided saying he'd sent her home. "So, there you go, it was that simple. Arthur the Horse gets sent back to his time with a jolly little hologram to go with him. We scared off the clockworks, made sure Reinette was safe through the only link that wasn't broken, said our farewells and off we went. Saved the day and home in time for tea. Piece of cake." The Doctor straightened for a moment, frowning to himself. "I s'pose it doesn't sound so impressive with the cliffnote's version. But you'll have to make do, I'm afraid – I'll not be the one to tell you all the finer details. That boy of yours probably will though. If you ask him."

Rose, who had been enjoying how he'd handled the situation up until now, blinked at him.

"My what?"

He looked up again, meeting her eye. "Mickey," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"He... he's not here, is he?" she asked, looking around herself as though she expected him to be hovering in the doorway or by the arm of the sofa.

There was a pause for a moment or two while the Doctor considered her.

"Rose, have you completely lost the plot?"

She looked back to find him trying to smother a laugh. "What?"

He rolled his eyes in mock disdain. "Honestly, feed that girl a bit of poison and she forgets everything she ever knew," he teased. "In case you haven't noticed, no, Mickey – isn't – here. He hopped off not long after he realised he wasn't welcome."

"You'd better not have been rude to him," Rose warned, glaring at him. "I swear Doctor, if he stayed behind in that parallel universe because you were mean to him, then I'm gonna – "

"What is it with you an parallels?" he laughed, circling back around the controls and shaking his head laughingly. "You obsessed, or what? Ricky boy didn't stay behind in the parallel. He went back home with your dad. Thought Pete could do with a bit of a hand, he said, but I'd bet my TARDIS it was 'cause he didn't want to admit the better man won."

There was so much new information in his throwaway sentence that Rose took a few long seconds to figure out.

"My... Dad...?" she breathed eventually, giving the Doctor a look that said if he was joking, she might actually kill him.

He looked back with entire sincerity. "Yup. The one and only Peter Tyler. Well actually, not the one and only. It'd be a bit odd if there was only – "

"Why'd he come back?" she cut across, eyes wide.

The Doctor sobered.

"Well, he was a bit miserable in his life. 'Specially with Jackie worse than dead. So he threw in the towel and we gave him a lift back home, back to your reality. Mickey left with him and they're all getting on like a house on fire. Bit awkward at first – no surprise there. But they're all settled in now, like it was never any different. Jackie's... er..." He paused, a momentary frown on his face. "Expecting," he settled.

"You're joking."

"No. I'm not."

Rose gave the floor a very hard stare, though she wasn't really focusing on it. Some shard of cut memory flickered into her mind for a moment, but it was gone before she could latch onto it. When she looked up some several minutes later, the Doctor was still watching her.

"You all right?"

"Yeah," she answered quickly with a tight nod and wide eyes. "Yeah, it's just... uh..." She ran her tongue around her mouth, which was suddenly stale from lack of words. "I don't know what to say," she laughed almost bitterly.

"Know what you mean. I think that was the reaction all 'round. I mean, they were happy, but it's a bit of a shock, even for me. Nine hundred years old, and I've never seen it happen before. It's almost sweet, actually; like they were destined to be together."

Rose looked at the Doctor through a frown of disbelief.

"What?" he asked incredulously.

The corner of her mouth tipped into a smile. "Nothing," she grinned, reaching to scratch just behind her ear. "I just never had you down for the 'destiny' type, 's all."

He held her gaze a moment, then shrugged and slipped his hands into his pockets. "I've changed."

"I noticed."

The two of them looked at each other for a moment, uncertainty hanging in the air like a single, black cloud in a summer sky, and just as undesirable. The Doctor cleared his throat and glanced to the door.

"D'you want to see them?" he asked casually.

"You mean... go... out there? Back to London?"

He looked back to her. "Depends," he shrugged. "If you want. Or I could hook up the TARDIS monitors, and you could watched them on the screen." He tapped, to indicate. "You up for a big visit?"

Rose hesitated. Going somewhere that felt as much like home as the deserts of Africa seemed a rather daunting idea. Everything was so safe, sitting quietly here in the TARDIS. She thought about leaving and was instantly was struck with a strange queasy feeling in her stomach. She sighed.

"I think I wanna stay here. For the moment," she answered at last. "Don't really think I'm up to big visits right now. Just seeing them will be enough."

"Okay," the Doctor nodded. "Besides, you might change your mind once you see them. Depending on how good your memory is, we might pop in for a minute or two."

She smiled at him, then put on her poshest voice. "You mean pay the family a visit."

The Doctor laughed, then grinned like he was wielding an axe. "Oh, it's so fantastic to have you back. Gimme a mo, and then we'll see what they're up to."

He pulled at levers and keyboards, darting around the console to fiddle with various settings as he did so. Rose smiled as she watched him. He was not usually so excitable – or he hadn't been in his later regeneration. This was like a whole new side. He looked up and caught her eye, grinning away madly. Then, picking a screen, he hit a switch and an image flickered into view.