I want to extend a huge thank you to everyone who has read, favorited, and reviewed this story of mine. Especially those of you who have followed this series since Across Dimensions. Way back when I had no idea what I was doing. You guys are amazing, and your continuous dedication and enthusiasm for this series has been a joy to experience. :)

I hope you've all enjoyed the Dimensions series as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

Epilogue.

"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I,

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference."

-Robert Frost

POV: Mara

In the end, Dad was telling the truth. The new TARDIS only took us a year and a half to grow, and we figured out a way to keep her working. We just tweaked her genetics a bit so she was compatible with the energy of this universe.

Mum recovered quickly, and it didn't take her long to get adjusted to this universe. She'd lived here before.

As soon as the new TARDIS was fully grown, Mum and John were off to see the stars. Three years after they'd left, they called Jen and I back to Earth for their wedding. They were married properly for almost sixty-five years before their deaths. Gran had been so excited on their wedding day. She'd spent the whole time telling anyone who would listen that she'd known all along those two would end up together.

Although John and I became close, I never could see him as my dad. He was a lot like Dad, but there were differences. Anyone who hadn't known Dad well would never have suspected that John was a different man; but Mum, Jen, and I could tell.

Overtime, the four of us were able to develop a low-level telepathic network. John was only part Time Lord, and had lost most of his telepathic abilities. Mum was no longer Quo—when the TARDIS had reached out to save her from the moment she had reverted Mum's genetics back to their original form, which was human. And while humans did have low-level telepathic abilities, Mum was never able to develop them to the level they'd been in the other universe. Her crystal did help, but even its power was limited. Only Jenny and I were able to maintain a strong telepathic connection, and even then we weren't able to communicate over vast distances like we had been in the other universe.

Dad had been right about Mum's bond to him and our old family network—it couldn't stretch across two universes. But every once in a while, when the walls between the universes were thin enough, the three of us would receive images from his life. Flashes of adventures would flicker behind my eyelids, and for a fleeting moment I could feel his presence. During the first couple of years in this new universe, I lived for these brief moments. They were often the only thing that would keep me going throughout the day.

That first year after Dad left us here felt like the world had ended. Adjusting to life without him had been the hardest thing I ever had to do. And for the first year of our lives here in Pete's World, I stayed on Earth. I didn't see the point in traveling the stars anymore.

But it was like Dad had once said, "Times change, and so must I." And so, I forced myself to move on. I worked with Jen at Torchwood for a few years, and eventually, I healed my hearts enough to see the point in traveling. I left Earth, and I never looked back.

POV: Jenny

Our family was scattered now.

I had always hoped that one day; Mara, Mum, Dad, and I would be together again. I had hoped we would travel the stars together. Running just because we could and laughing at whatever tried to stop us. But that dream was long gone.

In the years that followed our arrival here on Pete's world, the family I still had slowly grew apart. Mara and I spent the first few years together on Earth. First growing the new TARDIS, and then working together in Torchwood. But my sister had always had a restless streak in her, and soon she left for the stars.

I had known when she left that she wouldn't ever be coming back. Not to stay, at least. This place was too painful for her. She couldn't bear to see John and Mum together, or me, or anything on Earth that reminded her of where we were. It was all just a reminder that we would never see Dad again, and Mara couldn't handle that.

I was better at adjusting to our new life, but not by much.

After helping Mum recover and traveling with her and John in the new TARDIS for a while, I returned to Earth to work for Torchwood. As much as I loved running, Earth needed a defender, and I knew Mum would never be able to fill that role again. At least, not by staying on the planet, and Earth needed someone that could be here.

I quickly rose through the ranks of Torchwood. Within the span of three years, I came to hold the title of "Official Ambassador to all races not of Earth-origin". I was incredibly proud of this accomplishment.

I made a life for myself on Earth. I settled myself down in a home—a proper house with carpets and windows and a door—and started a family. I knew I was going back on the promise I had made to Dad to never stop running, but I had no reason to run anymore. And besides, I was going to live a long time compared to the family I had here on Earth. Running could wait until they were gone.

Out of the three of us, Mum and I were the only ones who had a strong relationship with my Uncle Toby, Gran, and Pete. Mara was never around long enough to foster a close relationship with any of them. And although part of me was angry with her for that, I never said anything to her about it. It wasn't my place. Not after everything we'd been through.

Although Dad had been right about what would happen to our family's telepathic network, the four of us were able to keep up a low level network of our own. Mum's crystal helped foster that ability. And Mara and I, being Time Lords, were able to retain most of our telepathic skills, which further aided us in our efforts to defend the Earth. At times, this was the only thing that kept our small family from disconnecting completely.

Every once in a while, I could feel Dad come through. The walls between the universes ran in cycles. And whenever they were thin enough, Dad would send the three of us brief visual messages. Within the first few years we spent here, I relied on these images a lot to keep myself from spiraling into grief.

As the years wore on, the images started coming less and less, until they stopped altogether. When that happened, Mara had shown up at my doorstep in the TARDIS. I'd made her tea, and the two of us had sat at my kitchen table for hours reminiscing over old times. This was long after Mum and John were dead. Long after my grandchildren had grandchildren of their own.

It was also the day I started running again.

We could only assume the messages had stopped coming for one reason: Dad was dead. And that thought was enough to drive me back into the TARDIS. Because now I had a reason to run again.

And I knew one day I would have to stop. I was a Time Lord, but I wouldn't live forever. One day my regenerations would run out, and I would die. But until then, I would keep my eyes on the stars and my hearts on Earth, and I would soak up as much of the universe as I could.

Dad had once said we're all stories in the end, so make yours a good one.

I was going to make sure the story of Jenny Tyler would be the best one ever told.

POV: Rose

This is the final story I will ever tell.

For the first nineteen years of my life, nothing happened. Nothing at all. Not ever. I was a shop girl with no A-levels, no ambition, and no future. And at the time, I thought that's all my life would ever amount to. And then I met a man called the Doctor. A man who could change his face, and he took me away from home in his magical machine. He showed me the whole of time and space. I thought it would never end.

And for a long time, that thought proved true. No matter what the universe did to split us up it never could. Not even Torchwood and its army of ghosts could separate us for long. In the end, I always found my way back to him. No matter what. And for a time, it seemed like nothing would stand in our way. Not even death itself.

But then came the Time Lords. Then came the outraged cry No more, and then came the War. And that's when the end began.

This is the story of how I died.

Now I know what you're thinking. You're thinking this story is going to be sad. And it is. It's a glorious, tragic end to a story that spanned over the course of an eon.

But it's the most beautiful story I'll ever tell.

The first time I woke up back in Pete's World, I was in a hospital bed attached to a dozen different machines and surrounded by a crowd of familiar faces. And as my eyes fluttered open and I sucked in a breath of air, all those faces shifted from the same intensely worried look to one of relief.

The first thing I did when I woke up in Pete's world was laugh. Because I could feel it. I could feel the air expand my lungs, and the texture of the fabric that made up the sheet I was covered in, and every beat of my heart against my chest, and every single sore spot along my body. I laughed, because even the feeling of physical pain was a sign that I was free.

And then I sobbed. I curled up in a ball in my sheet and I cried into my pillow. Because he was gone. I could feel it. That spot in my mind where our bond should be was cold, and lifeless, and empty. He was truly gone. And for the first time in an eon, I was truly alone in my mind.

That first week in this universe was complete hell.

For the first couple of days, I was completely unresponsive to anyone and anything around me. I was aware of the people who came to visit me. I knew when Mum was in the room, or when Jen or Mara came, and I knew they spoke to me, but I couldn't find it within myself to respond to their efforts. It was like I was watching the world go by through a television screen with no way to respond to any of it.

The thing that finally brought me out of my catatonic state was an image.

I had been half listening to the Metacrisis and Jenny talking to each other when it hit me. For the first time since the walls of the universe had closed, the bond I had shared with the Doctor sparked to life. It was only alive for the briefest of moments, but within those precious few seconds I received a flood of emotions and one image. It was of his hand—his left hand, and on that hand I saw his wedding band still on his ring finger.

With this image came a message. It was faint, but I could hear him. It was like the first time I had been trapped here when he'd called for me. It was as though he was whispering in my ear.

"Forever," he said.

"Forever," I whispered back.

Jen and the Metacrisis' eyes both shot up to my face, and they quickly rushed to my side.

After that day, I slowly began to recover. Within a week, I was able to leave hospital. Within a month, I was working with Mara and Jen to grow the new TARDIS the Doctor had left us. Within a year and a half, I was traveling again with the Metacrisis—John.

It was explained to me by my daughters what had happened when the Doctor had finally freed me from my box. I had begun to burn, but the TARDIS had reached out to save me one last time. She'd wiped away all traces of my Quo heritage and the Bad Wolf, and left me as what I'd always wanted to be. Human. Simply, gloriously, human.

I hoped the old girl knew just how grateful I was. I was no longer cursed with foresight or a lifespan that would far surpass those of my loved ones'. I could be free, instead of weighed down by the turn of the universe. I could simply enjoy it again.

It took a while for John and I to become close. Although I had accepted the fact that I would never see my Doctor ever again, it took me a long while to let him go. We had shared centuries of marriage, after all.

After the new TARDIS was fully grown, John and I took off to see the stars. Mara and Jen stayed with us through the first couple of adventures. But after that, they both went back to Earth. I knew it was painful for them to see another man with their dad's face. John may have been like the Doctor, but he wasn't the Doctor. At least, not the one we'd known. He was his own man.

Jenny went back to Earth to serve with Torchwood. Within her first three years back on the planet, she rose in the ranks and became Torchwood's official Alien Ambassador. I couldn't have been more proud of her.

Mara worked with Jenny at Torchwood for a short while, but she'd always had too much of her father in her. She couldn't stay still for long. She was out traveling the stars again. I knew, had the Doctor been here, he would have been unsurprised.

Most days I was able to function. However, the nightmares of my life in the other universe and the last time I'd been in this one still came for me. Most of my nights I would wander the TARDIS halls for as long as I could so I would be too exhausted to dream. When I did dream, images of burning planets and screaming voices and white walls would play out behind my eyelids, and I would wake screaming and clawing at the blankets to try to escape these horrors. Or I would wake frozen, eyes wide and body rigid, and I would be unable to move for hours on end.

Whenever this happened, John would roll over, wrap his arms around me, and whisper in my ear. It didn't matter what he whispered about. More often than not he would make up stories to tell me until I calmed down and my body relaxed.

When the nightmares would come for him, I would roll over and do the same. I'd wrap my arms around his waist and whisper in his ear until he could return to sleep. And because of this, we developed a bond of our own making. One that wasn't quite so literal as the one I'd shared with my Doctor, but felt truer and more right than nearly anything I'd ever experienced. And for the first time in an eon, I fell in love all over again.

These days we were both running. Running from our past lives, running from the nightmares, running just for the sake of it. We filled our days with adventure. The Doctor—or John, as he usually preferred to be called—and Rose Tyler, holding hands as we crossed the universe. Traveling the stars together in the TARDIS and laughing in the face of whatever dangers crossed our paths. The stuff of Legend.

And it won't be forever. Not by a long shot. He's human now, and so am I, and one day we'll both be too old to run anymore. Our time together is finite now. But that's okay. I've already had forever. And this is far better than that.

In all my long years, I never thought I'd come to see the beauty in endings. But ours will be. Ours is. It's brief, in comparison to all things, and it's inevitable, and it's sad.

But it's the most beautiful story I've ever told.

And it's the last story I ever will.

Fin.