A one-shot I created for a contest on deviantART. After a week of voting, much to the puzzlement of me and my beta, it dropped to last and never quite managed to get up. We figured that the people voting didn't like big words, or were put out that I didn't have a picture to accompany the fic.

Disclaimer: BBC is owned by someone British. I'm Texan. Therefore, not British. Neither do I own the picture that inspired this fic, as that is by alizarin_skies and is entitled "A Place Between Dreams". Go look it up on dA!

Thanks to my beta, timelord1. You really helped me get my spirits up after that fantastic fail of a contest.

He had always avoided coming here; nightmares were just as easy to conjure as daydreams on Memoria Ager, and often more potent; nine hundred years had left him with more darkness than he liked. It was also because he was scared about how this place would affect his companions; their wills were strong, but they were only human, and even humans couldn't resist a world where their desires were fact and they could live in an illusion. After the war he'd avoided even a mention of it altogether, knowing how close he was to madness, and knowing that if he landed on Memoria Ager, he would so very easily tip over into a downward spiral which he couldn't escape. But this time, the pain is too hard to ignore; the memories too strong to forget, as he had done in the past.

The stark white wall haunts him now, lurking in his memories, her face full of fear and sadness as she plunged to hell. Knowing she was trapped on the other side, that she couldn't get back to him, that he couldn't get to her… his hearts clench, the TARDIS slows to a stop, and he collapses into the chair, hands in his hair, his elbows resting on his knees. Fighting back the tears, he inhales deeply, then shudders, and slowly looks up at the door.

He knows where the TARDIS has landed, knows without looking at the console. His wonderful, perfect ship can read his thoughts, his emotions, and knows what he needs better than he does, and what he wants and needs is to see her again. Even if it isn't her, just an image conjured out of his memories, it doesn't matter. The memory is within, waiting for the right world to bring it to life, to give him one last good memory before the darkness consumes him again.

Pushing himself out of the seat, the door is opened before he even realizes he is outside, and Memoria Ager is just as beautiful and other-worldly as he had heard. A continent on the planet Somnium, it is a place where dreams bleed into reality; where imagination comes alive, senses mingle, and time seems to stand still. Here, thoughts are more powerful than actions, words can only do so much, and the power of someone's mind is more important than wealth.

The sky is a soft powder blue with snow-white clouds, stars still winking above despite being midday, and the neighboring planet of Aetus is hanging huge on the horizon. The pale blue and green grasses are waving in the gentle breeze with wildflowers scattered about the field. A stream winds its way leisurely through the soil, heading to the distant river and ultimately, the ocean, where it can be lost within the vast body of water. He swallows and closes his eyes to the picturesque scene, her face springing to mind.

He opens his eyes, and she's standing on the other side of the stream, smiling softly.

His hearts thud, and for a moment, he can believe that she really is there. She's wearing a pale pink dress, the skirt falling in waves along her hips and billowing gently along her feet. It was what she was wearing the night they visited an Empress's birthday, the night they had first kissed, the night they had first given in to their feelings. He had led her to his bedroom then, and she had followed, her smile soft and gentle and her eyes filled with love and joy. A month later, she had been torn from him; trapped on the other side of a white wall, in another universe, his soul vanishing with her.

And there she stood now, his dreams becoming reality, waiting patiently on the other side of the flowing water.

He takes the dozen steps that is needed to reach her, but dares not go any further. Her smile is sad, and she says, quietly, "You've been blaming yourself, haven't you?"

He doesn't respond but simply stares, wanting the vision before him to be real with every fiber of his being.

Her vision sighs, and a hand reaches up to cup his cheek. The warmth generated is only because his mind remembers it to be that way, yet it still feels real, and he can feel his resolve weakening. Quietly, he says, "You fell because of me. I… I should have known you would come back. You always do."

"I decided to go after the lever, Doctor. It was my choice, mine alone."

"That last trip, the one I forced you to make… it tipped the scales. Had I not sent you, the pull would have been less, and you… you would still be here." His throat tightens, and he chokes on the words, on the knowledge that he has done this to her. The moment before she had vanished, she had looked at him, her eyes huge and scared and unknowing of what he had done to her. Perhaps now that she'd time to think, she had realized why the pull of the Void had suddenly grown so much stronger the last few seconds she was clinging to the lever; maybe now she hated him for what he had done.

Her voice interrupts his thoughts. "I don't blame you. I never blame you. Yes, I don't like you deciding my fate for me," Her lips curl up in a teasing smile, her tongue peeping out of the corner of her mouth- "but I never blame you. I fell in love with who you are, Doctor, and if I asked you to change you wouldn't be the same man anymore. Never think that it's your fault. There are some things that are beyond even your control."

Slowly, his hand reaches up to cup hers, still resting against his skin. "I just wanted to see you," he whispers.

She replies, solemnly, "And I am here, for as long as you need me."

"Forever," he whispers. "I'll need you forever."

Her eyes are sad, but full of understanding. "But others need you more. You cannot give up the good that you do in this universe because of me, Doctor."

"Can't I pretend?" He begs. "Can't I just forget, just for a time, that you're not really you? Let me spend years with this image of you- and you are, you are just an image, something my mind conjured up, but I don't care! It may just be the real thing, the life we always wanted."

His dreams are racing to the forefront of his mind, ghostly images of chapels and houses and gardens shifting and forming around them. She's wearing a wedding dress one moment; pregnant the next; children racing about in complete and utter joy along the TARDIS hallways another. A young girl, the exact replica of her mother, reaches up a ghostly hand and tugs on his jacket, trying to get his attention, before disappearing to make way for yet another dream. All this time, she is standing in the same position, never wavering, never leaving.

"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few," She replied, once his imagination dies, exhaustion creeping up on him from the outburst.

"Time machine," He says back. "I can… I can still make it on time, even if I spend years here with you."

She shakes her head, her hand moving to grip his and letting it fall so that their hands are reaching across the stream, suspended between them over the water. "You know as well as I that I can only fight away your fears for so long. I'm a product of your imagination, Doctor. You want to imagine me happy, as I once was; but how long until your nightmares come back, until you see me falling once more?" Her head shakes again, her hair and dress stirring faintly in the wind. "No. You need to leave me, before you break even more; before your heart loses all compassion, all hope, all love."

He knows that she's telling the truth, and in his hearts the words ring true; but his mind refuses to accept it, the children he had always dreamed about in the dark, quiet hours of the night when no one could interrupt. They form behind her, solemnly looking at him, their eyes pleading at him to stay. He feels his hearts shattering at the knowledge that they can never be, and looks at her once more. "I don't want to leave you again," He finally says.

She smiles, tears brimming. "I'm always with you, Doctor. I live in your memories, and nothing- not even death- can touch me there." She steps back, her hand falling away from his, and takes the children's hands. "We'll see each other again, Doctor," She whispers, fading along with the two children, miniature figures of him and her, "And next time, we won't have to say goodbye."

"Rose," He cries. Her name, spoken for the first time since she fell, rips its way out of him. "Please…"

Her voice is the last thing to fade. "I love you."

He falls to his knees, and finally lets the tears he has been holding back for so long fall to the ground beneath him, just one more lost soul desperate to be healed, just one more pilgrim to the sacred land of Memoria Ager, seeking relief from a pain that only time could heal.