Prompt fic based on this post: "Person B knowing they're undoubtedly about to die within the next few seconds, likely from the gaping wound they're bleeding out from. Instead of calling for help, they phone Person A and carry on a casual conversation as if nothing is wrong, making sure to mention how much they love them before their time runs out." Doctor x Rose is the only pairing I'd do this for, since I can write it without actually including major character death.

Sometimes, the Doctor reflected as he looked at his stomach in shock, the saving the world bit doesn't go exactly as planned. He slowly pulled his hand away from where the Lokiri sword had cut him open and paled when he saw how much blood he was losing. Sometimes it doesn't go at all like I planned it.

General Throsh smirked. "You only have a few minutes left, Doctor. Now that I have taken care of you, I can get back to the castle in time to stop your Rose and those foolish rebels who believe they can bring an end to my government." Confident of his victory, he turned back toward the cave entrance.

The Doctor tightened his grip on his sword and gritted his teeth against the pain. "Ooh, big mistake Throsh, threatening my Rose," he said, determination moving his body forward when he had no other strength left.

The Lokiri heard him coming and raised his sword, but not in time to stop the blow. He collapsed to the ground and the Doctor staggered back against the cave wall, his breath coming in hard pants.

He'd saved Rose, but at a cost. The activity had sent his blood pumping even faster through his veins, which meant he was bleeding out worse than he had been before. Under normal circumstances, his body could heal even severe cuts, but this was too fast for his superior healing capabilities to keep up with. Already he could feel the regeneration energy building. The Doctor pressed his back against the wall and slid to the ground. It was only a matter of time.

He wished desperately for his wife, for Rose's hand to be in his until the last minute, for the unfailing love in her eyes to be the last thing these eyes saw. But they'd split up hours ago, when it became clear this wasn't going to be the holiday they'd planned. If the rebels she was with didn't get the charges set in the castle, the revolution would end before it began.

His vision turned hazy around the edges. The Doctor closed his eyes and reached along the bond for Rose—if he couldn't see her one more time before he changed, he could at least talk to her. With luck, over the distance she would mistake his pain for being upset over them getting caught up in this fight in the first place. And if he couldn't fool her? He hissed out a breath as the bleeding slowed. He just needed her.

Doing all right, love?

He tipped his head back against the cool rock wall and waited for an answer. It wasn't long in coming. Ask me again when we get the last of these charges set.

The wry humour in her words calmed the Doctor, and he relaxed for the first time since he'd been injured… or maybe that was the anaesthetic quality of regeneration energy taking over.

How about you? Everything all right on your end?

The Doctor pulled on all his memoies and projected an aura of mock irritation that would calm any fears she had. Right as rain—which is really an odd saying, when you think about it. What's so right about rain, anyway?

Doctor?

Concern pulsed over their bond, and he restrained his rambling with effort. Oh, you know. He waved his hands and swallowed when he saw the golden energy just beneath his skin. The general challenged me to a duel, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle.

Mmmm, I'm sure. There, last charge set.

Right then, get out of there and meet me in the caves.

He could almost see her tongue-touched smile as she rolled her eyes at him. You're bossy today. Just lucky I love you, Time Lord.

"Quite right," he gasped out loud, as well as projecting it along the bond. The drive to regenerate was too strong to ignore, but he tried to get the words out anyway. "And I suppose, if it's my last chance to say it—" Her concern swelled, but he couldn't keep her from realising the truth any longer. "Rose Tyler…"

Her name burst from his lips like a prayer from the most fervent believer. She was, she had always been, she would always be the one thing he believed in. And then the golden regeneration energy exploded out of him, and the Doctor passed out.

DWDWDWDWDW

Rose broke into a run as soon as she felt the fluctuation in their bond. She'd never felt anything like it in their 100 years of marriage, but she knew instinctively what it was. The Doctor had regenerated.

The Lokiri rebels chased after her, calling her name, but Rose ignored them. The Doctor was in the caves… a new Doctor. She needed to see him, needed to be the one to see what he looked like now and describe it all to him.

General Throsh's body rested just outside the cave entrance. So the Doctor actually did take care of him. Her gaze swept around the cavern quickly and her heart stopped when she spotted him. Even though she'd suspected—known—it hurt to see a strange body dressed in the familiar brown pinstripes.

"Doctor?" When he didn't answer, Rose took a few tentative steps toward him and realised he was unconscious.

The panting rebels reached the mouth of the cave, and she pointed to the taller one. "Help me get him to our ship," she ordered.

"Why is he dressed in your mate's clothing?" the young man asked as he draped one of the Doctor's arms over his shoulder.

"It's a long story, Chajal," Rose said, hefting half her husband's weight up. Lucky he's still such a skinny bloke.

"It is a disguise?"

Rose latched onto the answer. "Yeah, he's disguised himself, but he only does it if he's really hurt, so I need to get him back to the TARDIS so I can take care of him."

Chajal nodded and picked up the pace. "Say no more, Rose. Today, you and your mate made it possible for my people to gain their freedom. This does not even begin to cover our debt."

The pair crossed the half mile of countryside between them and the TARDIS in silence. When they reached the ship, Rose stroked a hand down the familiar blue door and turned the lock. She briefly wondered if she could drag the Doctor to the med bay alone, but the earnest gratitude on Chajal's face eased her concern about letting a stranger inside the ship. "Help me get him to a bed?" she said, and propped the door open.

The Lokiri's obvious protest died on his lips when he saw the console room. "Your mate can form the perfect disguise, and your ship is bigger on the inside," he breathed in awe. "Who are you, Rose?"

Rose steered them to the first door on the right. The TARDIS had moved the med bay when she'd sensed them coming. "We're the ones who started your revolution," she answered mildly, hoping Chajal took the hint and didn't ask for further assistance.

They laid the Doctor down on a bed, and then Chajal straightened. "Yes, you are… and as I said, we will be in your debt."

Relief coursed through Rose as she led him back to the door. "Just do better than the last generation," she urged as he stepped outside. "That's all the thanks we need."

He bowed. "We will," he promised, then turned and walked back to the city.

Rose shut the door behind him and reached into her pocket for her own sonic—the same device she'd been using an hour ago to set explosives while her husband lay dying in a cave. She blinked back tears and quickly adjusted the settings until it would activate Emergency Programme Four, taking them into the Vortex. Then she went into the med bay to sit with her husband.

Now that they were out of danger, she let herself look over his new body. Tall and slim, though maybe just a hair shorter than he was before. His fringe hung in his face, and Rose pushed it back, but the soft brown hair just flopped back into place. "Still not ginger," she teased.

Her fingers stroked over his temple, and she knew he was almost awake. She cupped his jaw tenderly and watched the most beautiful green eyes blinked open.

"Rose?" His hand fumbled at his side, and she took it in her own. "So… what do you think?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I think that the next time you're regenerating, you'd better tell me beforehand."

He pouted, and Rose cursed her weakness. She'd half hoped the power of that expression would diminish with a new face, but she should have known—it wasn't his soft brown eyes that persuaded her to give into him, it was just the Doctor.

"But this was so much more efficient," he pointed out. "You started a revolution while I was regenerating, and we're home in time for tea."

She pursed her lips and nodded. They'd talk, eventually, about how he'd managed to lie to her over their bond. Right now, she saw a heartbreakingly familiar uncertainty in his eyes, and she knew—would have known even without the bond—what he was going to say.

"Rose?" His fingers tightened around hers. "New, new, new Doctor?"

"My new Doctor," Rose corrected, and pressed her lips firmly to his.