A/N: How the reunion between the Doctor and Rose SHOULD have been during Journey's End without the cockblocking Dalek. Pretty sure this has been done before, but I heard "Just Breathe" by Pearl Jam playing the other day while in a Jersey doctor's office (much to my amusement) and I just needed to write this. Plus I needed a small break away from Chasing the Starlight since I'm dealing with slight writer's block.

Still, hope you enjoy this one shot, Ten/Rose shippers! ;) Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who and all its characters (sadly). If I did, then this would be what would happen along with other changes. No copyright infringement intended.

Why don't you ask her yourself?

The Doctor furrowed his brows at his companion's response, uncomprehending and utterly confused. There couldn't be a way for him to communicate with Rose, not anymore, not now. A small smile spread across Donna's face as she looked past his shoulder to something in the distance behind him that must have caught her eye. His eyes widened. Could it…could it really have been…her?

Lifting his hopes up usually led to them deflating a moment later, disappointment following immediately as well as grief. Still, curiosity always got the best of him, and it caused him to follow the redhead's gaze to whatever interesting thing gained her attention and prompted him to do the same. And his hearts stopped their double rhythmic beat when he locked his gaze to the figure at the far end of the street, to a familiar face he had never believed he'd see in person ever again.

Rose.

Rose Tyler.

His Rose Tyler.

His…love. Everything.

He had to blink a few times to focus since his vision blurred for a brief moment, knowing that, many a times in the past couple of years, he had allowed his imagination to illude him, to create for him the perfect image of a memory he had never wanted to fade, preserve it in all of its pulchritude since he had been robbed of it in the most painful way known to man. But it was real. This was real. If he could feel the use of his arms again he would've pinched himself in the side to make sure this wasn't one of his faraway fantasies—though that was incontestable since he wouldn't dare let himself be involved in a bloody Dalek battle. But he let all of that skim by his mind without another thought, without protest, without argument. Just for the time being.

Because he was staring at his pink and yellow human, his lost girl, his Rose.

Mouth hung slightly agape, as wide as his eyes were from the sight, he turned his body fully around to see her more. She stood there in the living flesh; her blonde tresses cascading down to her shoulders and luminescing beneath the waning gibbous moon that hung in the clouds, her signature wide smile that, even in the encompassing darkness that had blotted out all but the faintest light in the cold dark night, shone, coruscating, bright with sheer joy that she had come back to him. Like she had promised him so, so long ago. Impossible, he thought. It could never have happened. It was never meant to happen.

But he liked the impossible. No…he loved it.

Rose broke into a run, coming towards him. Intuitively the Doctor found himself doing the same, like she was pulling him in like a magnet, locking them on with nothing else around them. Only the two of them. She was weighed down somewhat by the large gun at her hip, but that didn't matter to him since he was more than making up for it. His legs carried him the entire way as he sprinted towards her with pure exhilaration, a broad smile on his face that could mirror her own as they reached each other. Nothing else mattered to either of them, and there was nothing surrounding them.

Only them. Nothing else.

It was all a blur on both ends but the awareness was prominent. Simultaneous sounds of what could only be described as heavy exhales and pants and staccato breathing from the jogs, the taste of the night air entering their lungs as they inhaled, catching themselves up to what was happening. Wasting no time they had to have been about a foot away when they both extended their arms out as far as they could until they melded together, grasping onto each other as if they were about to slip away. But not anymore.

Names were being breathed out in breathless whispers, bordering on the sounds of sobs, or probably even dissolving into laughter at the fact that they were standing in the middle of a barren road in each other's arms again after what seemed like forever. Neither one of them didn't know which of the possibilities it was, but it didn't matter. Their faces were buried in each other's necks, inhaling deeply their defining scents and smiling onto each other's skin, half chuckling and half sobbing they settled on.

The Doctor's hearts were hammering in his chest, reverberating their rapid pace through Rose as they held each other close, leaving no spaces between them. Which was more than a good thing on his part since he didn't trust himself and could very well hyperventilate and pass out and lie right in the middle of the road with the silliest grin plastered on his face. Not even his respiratory bypass would help him nor would he want it to. All he wanted was this moment. Whatever it would take to get here. His hands eased back as he mapped out the lines of her sides, the curves of her hips and up along her ribs then sliding up one to the back of her head and curling into her hair. He breathed out a repetitive mantra of her single syllable name, over and over again, barely audible but as loud and clear in his mind.

Rose's arms were slung around his neck, feeling as if she were about to leap into the air and cling onto him without ever letting go, making her own traces along his pinstriped shoulders, his upper arms, his back. Everywhere she could reach with no intentions of pushing herself away. And they wouldn't dare to, not now. What had seemed like an eternity they pulled back just brought to look in each other's eyes, their brightened smiles reflected in each pair. Both were still breathing heavily, but somehow she was able to find her voice.

"Hello," she said, the softness of her tone matching that of the calm breeze that passed by them, the tips of her fingers gently rubbing the nape of his neck.

He stilled for a moment, almost frozen in place as he stared at her, his mouth trembling when another watery—somewhat broken—chuckle escaped from him. It echoed from her, her face nearly splitting in two, and he almost came undone right then and there. His hands began to re-chart again in the same path from earlier. The uneven rhythm in his chest filled his ears again when he dared himself an inch closer; their noses touching, their breaths puffing and mingling, their lips a hair's breadth away. His one opportunity, his one chance to finally say what he wanted to say to her that day on the dreaded beach, to finally let her know how much he's missed her and longed to feel her in his arms again despite the impossibility. Even if she already knew how he felt—and still feels—he was too much of a coward then to do anything, tentatively crossing into painful territory.

And he still was a coward.

But in this moment, he didn't hesitate.

Urgently if not desperately he crashed his mouth down upon hers catching any words that were about to come out of her next, perhaps words of how long she had been waiting to be within his proximity again, how long it took for her to find a way back to him, but no other words were necessary as the melted at each other's touch, every unspoken word said in their times of separation speaking for themselves. She didn't hesitate as she responded fervently, her hands burying themselves in his hair, tugging and pulling, pressingly gratifying her thirst as she parted her lips for him to allow him to slide in, cool and acute and entwining with hers, mapping out the contours of their mouths for the very first time. Nothing chaste, no pretending. The hand he kept secure on the back of her neck fanned out across her scalp to angle her face as he poured out everything he could into her, to speak with his actions through slow, tender strokes. His love. His everything. Time seemed to stop, the only things moving being them in their spot, in their moment, drinking each other in. No other sounds save for the resultant sighs of contentment as they held each other close, not letting go. Not this time.

All that they could ever want was laid out before them and taken with no objection.

Needing to take a break from oxygen starvation after what was probably an eternity that passed them by they finally broke apart, the Doctor resting his forehead on Rose's as they each took in necessary lungfuls. He dropped his arm from around her back to reach down and clasp her hand in his, her fingers threading with his, the natural gesture rediscovered and found in its rightful place. His opposite slid from the back of her neck and trailed up her cheek, his thumb gently brushing over the bone as they just stood there staring into each other's eyes, the nippy chill in the air flushing the color from her face. His hearts still hadn't eased up their rhythm and his respiratory bypass was on the edge of kicking in. He didn't care. He would gladly want this lovely pink and yellow human to steal his breath every second of every day. He had a feeling she would second that thought.

So many things he wanted to tell her, so many things that needed saying and that she deserves to hear coming from him. And, with his mind still lagging behind and trying to catch up to current affairs that Rose Tyler was back in his arms, he could only offer her one word to say with a breathless chuckle.

"Hello."