CHARACTERS: Rose/Ten (Duplicate)
SETTING: Takes place not long after 4x13 ("Journey's End") and immediately after the chapter "Brilliant" of this story. Spoilers for "Doomsday" and "Journey's End".
CHAPTER SUMMARY: What came next.

"Enough," the Doctor mumbled, as though the sun that fell across his face like it was trying to coax him awake was something that could be reasoned with.

Everything hurt. No, not "hurt"; that wasn't right. ACHED. His head, his legs, his back. His stomach, too, though that seemed to just be hunger. And his bladder, if a bladder COULD ache.

His heart, though - that was "hurt". Stabbing, throbbing, wrenching hurt. Tears left eyes that hadn't yet opened, and his chest burned as he fought to contain a sob.

But what a difference less than a day had made. Because with the tears came intense anger, at the Daleks, at himself, at his other self. Anger over the loss of Donna that led to anger at his exile (even if he'd agreed to it), anger at the changes to his body, his brain, anger at the world, this and the one he'd left. So much anger. Seething, near-explosive rage.

In the end it was the smell of her hair that brought him down. Freshly washed, floral scented, tickling his face as she crawled over him to lay down atop the covers.

He knew his counterpart had been right, hadn't resented the implication that he couldn't be trusted, needed to be controlled, tempered. Needed Rose. Because he was the Doctor too, and so he knew the same things as the other, thought the same way.

But at the same time, once the rage subsided, he took a moment to be surprised by its intensity, by just how right they both had been.

And he took a moment to be relieved that simply the smell of her hair effected him so greatly.

"You awake, Doctor?" Rose inquired softly. It was nearly noon, and while she'd slept in too - less an old habit and more a necessity and reward after the stress of saving not just ONE but ALL the universes - she had already showered and dressed. "You'll be getting old now, remember. Best to be out and about before your hair starts thinning."

The Doctor's eyes flew open then in not-quite-mock terror.

"Hadn't considered that one yet, had you?" she jested affectionately when she turned her head on her pillow to see his reaction. "It'll be a shame, I admit. But your hairline should have a few good years left in it. Shall we make the most of them?"

"Rose, I am so very sorry," he said with sly sincerity, craning his neck to meet her eyes.

"What for?" she questioned.

"For all of the times I made a joke about your sleeping habits. If this is what it feels like to be human, I don't understand how you ever get out of bed."

She beamed at him, not quite sympathetic. "You'll get the hang of it soon enough, but not if you don't get up."

It was his bladder more than her encouragement that saw him stumbling to the bathroom, though not before spinning a strand of her hair around one of his fingers. "Pink and yellow. God, how I've missed you."

Rose was obviously taken aback, unused to a Doctor that would so easily blurt out his feelings. But she handled it smoothly, likely due to being so well rested. "Flattery will get you everywhere... but only AFTER you get out of bed."

When he returned to the room washed and back in his borrowed pajamas, she was sitting on the bed not in the least bit convincingly feigning nonchalance. While the Doctor was struggling to make his senses cooperate in ways they once would, all he needed were his eyes this time to see she was a nervous ball of energy. But he knew her, and knew what she needed.

"I suppose I'll need to go shopping."

Yes, indeed. He knew her. She was on her feet in a flash and ready to roll. "Pete had your suit sent out for dry cleaning first thing, rush job. I hung it in your closet. Get dressed and I'll meet you downstairs!"

The suit fit him of course, and it would have felt good to be back in somewhat familiar garb if he could have shook the feeling that his SKIN didn't quite fit. Not in the literal sense, but in a way that regeneration had never affected him before. As he looked in the full length mirror, hoping that seeing himself from the outside might help put his insides to rights, he jammed his hands in his suit pockets rather sullenly...and found them empty.

"Rose!" he called all the way down the stairs, more than a bit panicked.

He found her in the kitchen, cutting up a banana for his cereal, unconcerned and knowing exactly what was causing his meltdown. "Sit," she told him, gesturing to the table where she'd laid out the contents of his pockets earlier that day. "Dad emptied them out before your clothes went to the cleaners. And I was doing inventory."

The piece of TARDIS coral wasn't the only thing he'd been worried about, though it had certainly been at the forefront of his mind. Back in the TARDIS, when Rose had been saying goodbye to Mickey and the other Doctor had been busy with Jack and Martha, Donna had pulled him aside and started loading up his bigger-on-the-inside pockets like a care package. "The TARDIS will make him another," she'd said as she'd tucked in the sonic screwdriver she'd asked to "borrow" not long before. Followed by trinkets and gadgets and remembrances, indicating that she'd had some time to think and gather, must have deduced the plan before he and his counterpart had "discussed" it during a little telepathic pow-wow that had taken place without anyone realizing.

Donna.

"Here." Rose was handing him the bowl. "Where'd all this stuff come from? I've never even seen you wear this jacket, have I? Do they come... I don't know, "pre-loaded"?"

He couldn't. Not just then, not just yet, not without returning to sadness or anger or whatever else might overcome him.

"A story for another day," he told her in no uncertain terms. And it scared her a bit, reminding her of the way that her leather-clad Doctor had often spoken to her in the beginning of their time together. Different voice, but same tone, same emotion behind it.

And then her fear turned to realization. Was this what they had meant about him needed her like he had then? Had she really changed him so much?

"Fair enough," she conceded. "Eat your cereal. You want a coffee?"

"I want ALL the coffee, I think. I'm all muddled and -" He coughed, and shouldn't have been surprised when regeneration energy left his lungs.

"You were breathing out that stuff all night," Rose told him. "Made me want to peek out the window a few times looking for 'pilot fish', just in case, but I figured that wasn't the usual regeneration goings-on. " Then she eyed him critically. "All in all you seem much better than your last go. But should I be offering you tea instead? Mum actually asked me that this morning."

The Doctor couldn't help but share her smile at the memory. "I think I'll be done 'cooking' soon," he assured her. "Where is your mum, anyway?"

"Dad took her and Tony off somewhere. Thought you could use some space today. Even told the house staff to make themselves scarce."

"A good man, your dad."

"He is." She sat down beside him, mugs of coffee now before them both. "He really is. And even though it's been awhile now, sometimes it still seems so mental. Because he's NOT my dad. But he IS. Or maybe he's just become my dad. I don't know." She nudged his shoulder with hers. "I was so furious with you for trying to make me go with them. And the fact that it happened by accident was probably a good thing, because I never would have forgiven you." She was misty at the memory of the day she'd reaffirmed her choice to never leave him, only to be rescued by Pete at the last moment before being sucked into the void. "But it was a gift, to be here with mum, to get to know Pete, Tony."

The Doctor had turned to face her, leaned in as though they were sharing secrets in a crowd, rested a hand on her thigh that she covered with her own. "I'm so glad. That's the life I wanted you to have. Safe, with your family."

"Liar," she accused with a sad smile. "That was just you playing the tragic hero. You wanted the same thing I did: you and me, time and space."

"The Doctor and Rose Tyler, in the TARDIS." A memory, and an admission. "And now look at us. The stuff of legend indeed."

She kissed him them, or maybe he kissed her - it was hard to say. It lasted only a second, lips barely touching, but it felt like the moment had been sealed. They parted with grins, suddenly lighthearted and hopeful as they finished their breakfasts while each was dreaming of a future that could take them in so many different directions.

The direction for the day was clear however - the closest shopping mall. Hand in hand they roamed, unhurried, as he coaxed from her the first bits of her life story since he'd seen her last. Rose tried not too revel in the fun she was having dressing him; after they'd gotten him fitted for a few suits, she'd insisted that casual wear was non-negotiable. He grumbled until she found him the perfect pair of jeans, and then his vanity took over.

"I look good," the Doctor pronounced, meaning it.

Though it had been a few years since she'd had to deal with it, Rose was unfazed by his lack of humility. Besides, he wasn't wrong - the dark jeans that fit "just so", the tight grey tee, and the zip up hoodie definitely suited him. Still, now that they were likely stuck in one place for a bit, now that he wouldn't be able to simply flit off after being his ridiculous and sometimes offensive self and would actually need to maintain some relationships, she thought she'd be doing him a favour to remind him of the niceties. "It's not a bad look for you, but you DO know that guys who KNOW they look good and act it generally get labelled as twats."

Apparently the effort hadn't been worth it, because he either didn't really hear her or was choosing to ignore her. "These jeans are amazing!"

"Oh, brother."

Once clothing was dealt with they dropped their packages at the car and he dragged her to first an electronics store and then a hardware store to search for things that could be built and adapted with his sonic and the other bits and bobs that had been tucked away in his pockets before leaving the TARDIS.

"Where will we live?" the Doctor suddenly blurted. The sales person that had just approached to ask if they needed help heard the question, saw Rose's face, and turned away without a word.

"Wherever we'd like, I guess," Rose answered, casually as she could. "I had a flat but I was working so much I let it go. When I'm around I've been staying with mum and Pete, mostly for Tony."

"We should have our own place. Until the TARDIS is ready." He beamed then, remembering. "We'll have to get a mortgage after all!"

Rose couldn't help but blush. She'd felt so foolish that day back on the impossible planet, essentially suggesting that should they be stuck together on the slow path they could pull off domestic bliss, as though that might be something he'd want. "Pete's loaded," she pointed out. "He could buy us a hundred houses."

"Well, that seems a bit excessive. I think one will suffice." And then he was back again to filling the shopping cart and talking in his mile-a-minute way about all of the technological improvements he thought he'd be able to manage in their new home, as though the matter were settled.

It was on the drive back to her parent's house that it occurred to her, "You know, we don't have to get a house, mortgage or no."

The Doctor had been dozing in the passenger seat, his new body betraying his energetic mind. He opened his eyes and looked at her intently, frowning. It honestly hadn't occurred to him that she might not want to set up house with him. That he might have to be alone.

Apparently the human part of him made his expressions much more readable. When they stopped at a light she took a moment to glance his way and saw he looked positively stricken. "Doctor, I didn't mean - " She gave his fingers a pitying squeeze before returning her hands to the wheel and her eyes to the road. For all his genius he tended to be a bit thick when it came to matters of the heart, even though until very recently he had two of his own. "I just meant you spoiled me, during our adventures. Since then I haven't been able to handle the thought of settling down. It's a big world, and so much more is different about it than I even imagined."

Another glance and she saw he'd clued in to her meaning, and was warming to the idea. "May not be all of time and space, but I guess a whole new universe will have to do."

"And all of time and space will be waiting for us soon enough."

"In the meantime, we'll make brilliant tourists."

"And if we happen to save the planet once or twice..."

"Well, that's to be expected, isn't it?" Now he was beaming again, brimming with excitement. And when he opened his mouth to start planning their itinerary... a huge yawn escaped instead. "Bollocks."

"Welcome to the human race, Doctor. Where whether you're saving the planet or just doing some shopping, you're bound to fancy a nap here and there."

"I know I used to tease you for all your sleeping in, but I'm now convinced I didn't give you enough credit."

"You'll get used to it, I promise." She smiled fondly. "Though I forbid you to sleep your life away. You've only got one now and I'm not about to let you waste it."

While his body was technically new, his mind, full of over 900 years of memories and experiences, was conditioned to view life through a lens of having untold years to come. The idea that time could truly be WASTED, that he only had a few good years left, it should made him furious. It should have dismayed him. Broken him.

So how was it that the challenge of making every fragile, fleeting, finite moment with her truly COUNT felt at least just then - when her thigh was warm under his palm and he could still smell her hair and she was real and whole and they were TOGETHER - like enough? "Oh, Rose Tyler. That is one thing you needn't worry about."