A niggling voice at the back of his head told the Doctor he really shouldn't be doing this, but he ignored it. Once more, against all odds, a gap in the universe had showed up, out of the blue. Of course he was going to use it; how could he not? He had to see her. He would use every last opportunity he had to go and see Rose, even if it was the middle of the night. Maybe it was better that way; he could see her, but she would not be disturbed by his presence. She had a life outside of him now, with the Meta-Crisis; he was aware of that, but he couldn't stop himself seeing her. Just one more time. Always just one more time.

The Doctor shoved his sonic at the front door and the double locks clicked open. He let himself in and silently moved through the house, taking careful quiet steps through the near darkness. The hall was only lit by the light of the moon shining through the glass of the front door, creating a dim glow for him to see by. Her room was the first he came to, door slightly ajar so he could swing it open without having to turn the handle.

His hearts softened and ached at the same time at the sight of Rose, asleep and alone in the large double bed. She lay on her side, and her arm was stretched out over the spot he assumed was usually filled by the Meta-Crisis. She was still beautiful, even asleep. She was also older; maybe only a couple of years, but her face had lost a little more of the roundness, making her cheekbones more prominent. On her hand resting over the empty side of the bed, he spotted a wedding band on her ring finger. It made him smile sadly.

She turned with a sigh and he froze in the doorway, somehow convinced he had disturbed her though he'd done nothing but stand there. The mumbled unconscious words drifted back to him as she moved: "Doctor… home… Doctor…" Another deep sigh, and she was asleep again. Her words begged the question: where was the Meta-Crisis Doctor? His gaze towards the pink and yellow human (that hadn't changed - she would always be that) was interrupted by a static-filtered gurgling sound, and a flicker of little green dots on a monitor next to Rose's bed. She shifted again at the noise, and the Doctor recognised the device as a baby monitor. His eyebrows lifted in surprise, though part of him told him he shouldn't be; Rose would be twenty-eight now, he'd worked out, and she was moving on. He was happy for them, the Doctor decided, grinning at the thought. Rose Tyler, a mother. With his own clone, essentially. Who would've thought?

With one last almost longing look at the still-sleeping Rose, the Doctor backed away from the doorway and carried on down the hall, looking for the source of all the gurgling. He winced and cringed as a set of blocks discarded down the hall almost sent him flying; his hand shot out to the wall to regain his balance, but his knees still hit the floor with a thud. Muttering under his breath, the Doctor got to his feet and quietly opened the next door, a smile lighting up his face at the star-filled bedroom in front of him.

"Hello there," he said softly, approaching the whimpering baby boy. "I'm the Doctor."

It was a relatively quiet thud, but in the dead silence of Rose's house, it seemed to echo through the stillness. It woke Rose from her sleep, though she was completely knackered; her little boy didn't always like to sleep normal hours, following the example of most infants. Nevertheless, it was enough to spike Rose's curiosity and get her out of her empty bed to go and check on her baby, particularly when a few whimpers threatening to turn into tears sounded from the baby monitor.

Rose shuffled down the hallway, but halted outside her son's door when she heard a voice come from his room. Usually she would barge straight in there and get whoever was in her house away from her son, but the words made her stop and her heart pound in shock.

"Hello there, I'm the Doctor."

It can't be, Rose thought to herself; clasping her hands together she found that she was shaking. She peeked around the doorway to see a tall skinny figure in a bow tie leaning over her little boy, a different but unmistakable sonic screwdriver poking out of his jacket pocket. Tears came to her eyes, though of happiness or sadness she wasn't sure; Rose covered her mouth as she pulled away from the doorway and slid her back down the wall to sit on the floor, listening with disbelief to his soft-spoken words.

"I'm just popping by, don't you worry," the Doctor reassured the baby, rubbing his chubby cheek with the back of one finger. The little boy hiccuped, examining this stranger with wide eyes. "We need to let Mummy sleep," he continued, nodding earnestly and smiling. He chuckled when the baby's whimpers died down, and gently picked Rose's child up into his arms. "You're a typical Tyler boy, you know," the Doctor informed the baby, gazing around the starry room. The walls had been painted a midnight blue with stars and planets all around, and a slowly rotating nightlight shone projections of several different nebula over the walls. "Well, just a typical Tyler, I guess," he amended. "You all have a thing for the stars. It started with your Mum; I traveled with her. She saw all this up close." He circled, gazing around the extensively decorated room. "You like it, don't ya?" The Doctor smiled knowingly. "She loved it." He gently bounced up and down in an attempt to further soothe the tired baby in his arms, marveling at how much like Rose he really looked, and his smile faded. "And I loved her." He paused. "But I had to let her go. She was better off without me."

His words made Rose's heart leap into her throat, and she was frustrated and heartbroken all at once as another wave of tears slid down her cheeks. She climbed to her feet, barely able to keep from sobbing out loud as she took one more look around the doorway, pressing herself against it for support. He was so different; this regeneration looked younger. Did he get younger with each one? Why did he have to come here? Dredge up the past yet again? With that brilliant Time Lord mind of his, couldn't he at least guess how this would make her feel? It had taken her months to get over him; endless months. But her Meta-Crisis had been infinitely patient with her, and now, after nearly three years, they were a family. She was happy. Why did he have to come back and up-end it all once again? Mess with her emotions and such? Because despite how happy she was, despite the fact she had a husband she loved and a son she adored - she had missed him. So much, every day. It had been getting easier, and then he goes and does this.

The sight of the man that was once her Doctor holding her son was too much, and Rose couldn't hold back any longer.

"Doctor," she whispered, her voice thick with tears, and he spun around, still gently rocking her baby boy. He started to smile, then his face fell at the sight of her tear-stained face.

"Rose," he said, and she flinched; her name sounded different in his unfamiliar voice, his slight change in accent. She had to take a couple of shaky breaths before she was able to speak.

"Doctor, what're you doing here?" she asked him, her voice trembling. She remained where she was; her hand was clutching the door frame so tight her knuckles were white, and she still wasn't sure whether she was angry with him for being here, with her son, or not. He gave her a confused look and stopped swaying.

"I came to see you," he said slowly. "But you were asleep. I heard him starting to cry-" he gestured to the baby boy, fallen asleep in his arms. The Doctor moved over to her, and Rose took her son from him, cradling his head and trying not to hold on too tight. The Time Lord caressed Rose's cheek and brushed away half her tears. "Rose, why're you crying?"

"Because you're here," she whispered, avoiding his gaze and instead pressing a wet kiss to the top of her son's head. She felt him gently take her shoulders and she closed her eyes, trying not to cry out loud.

"I'm sorry, Rose, but I had to see you," the Doctor murmured, genuinely apologetic. "I didn't mean for you to wake up. I found a gap, and thought…."

"I was over you," she told him with a sob, looking back up at him, then brought her voice back down. "I was, I was nearly there. An' now you show up, outta the blue, after you bloody left me-" She stopped when he released her and backed away, eyes downcast.

"I'm sorry, Rose, really. I'll just-"

"Wait." She was torn; part of her wanted him to just leave, and stop messing up her life for good. The other part - the more dominant, it seemed - desperately wanted him to stay for as long as he could. Her lower lip trembled as she contemplated. "Don't go," she whispered finally, shaking her head. "Jus'… wait." Rose swiftly crossed the room back to her boy's cot and gently placed the sleeping baby inside, then turned back to him. A small teary smile slowly appeared on her face as she propelled herself forward and flung her arms around his neck, any anger or frustration forgotten. She had him back; not forever, and certainly not the same, but for a moment, she had her Doctor back. The Doctor hugged her tightly, savouring the moment.

"Oh, Rose," he breathed in her ear, lifting her off the ground for a moment before setting her back on her feet.

"I missed you so much," she replied, voice muffled by happy tears and his shoulder. "So much." Rose uncurled her arms from around him, and he cradled her face in his hands, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I had to leave, Rose, I had to," he murmured regretfully; she bit her lip and nodded.

"I know you did," she murmured back, tears coming to her eyes again at the mention of that horrible day on that damn beach in Norway. "An' he's wonderful, he really is. Still hurt though." She sniffed, and he wrapped his arms around her once again, conscious of the time he had left in this universe.

"You're happy then? Where is the Meta-Crisis?" he asked gently, and she nodded in response to the first part of his question; her arms curled around his middle once more and she rested her head safely against his chest. He was taller, she noted.

"Mission with Torchwood; he'll be back tomorrow," she murmured back, closing her eyes for a moment. Then she leaned back and examined his new face properly for the first time. "When did you regenerate?"

His eyes grew glazed as he remembered and wondered how much to tell her. He felt the TARDIS in his mind, calling him back, and he knew he didn't have long left.

"Not long ago," he deflected, and she nudged him gently.

"No really, when-"

"Rose, I have to go soon," he interrupted her, and her face fell.

"For good this time?" she whispered.

He nodded. "For good."

Her eyes filled with tears again and she swallowed, trying to not let them overflow. Then she smiled sadly and cupped his cheek in her palm.

"I guess I can tell you now," she mused, almost to herself, and he raised an eyebrow. She chuckled. "I remembered you, Doctor. New Years Day, January the first, 2005. As soon as you regenerated the first time, I remembered." Her eyes glistened, and he smiled at her, his Rose. He had saved the best for last that day; his final reward, to see his Rose one last time.

"I was regenerating," he said softly, and she nodded, tears falling now.

"I never told you, but I worked it out over time," she admitted, then laughed quietly. "I thought you were completely drunk!" He chuckled too, mirroring her action by cupping her face in his palm and wincing as the TARDIS shouted at him.

"I have to go, Rose," he whispered almost inaudibly, trying to memorise every detail of her beautiful features. Her head dropped and she hugged him once more, tight as she could.

"I'm losing you again." She couldn't help herself.

"You've got a family, Rose, you'll be alright," he comforted, holding her close. "You have a son," he whispered proudly, and she nodded, pressing her face into his chest. "What's his name?"

"Jack," came the muffled reply. Her body hiccuped with each sob.

He smiled. "He's beautiful."

Rose sniffed and pulled away, giving him a watery smile. "He's part yours, I guess," she managed, wondering how she was ever going to get over this again. The Doctor smiled sadly.

"Tell him about me, one day," he said softly, and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. She closed her eyes. "I'm always thinking of you," he whispered. "Always. My wonderful Rose Tyler, defender of the Earth." She heard the pride in his voice. "Don't look," he whispered, and then he was gone. Rose's eyes stayed closed, but it didn't stop the tears as she heard footsteps tread down the hallway, then the front door click once. He was gone.

She opened her eyes and had to suppress a sob when she saw the empty room in front of her. Rose crossed to her son's cot and gazed down at him, gently stroking his sleeping cheek. She would tell him everything, she decided, watching as her tears rolled off the tip of her nose and onto his blanket. One day, with her half-human Doctor by her side, she would tell her son everything.