Author's Note: This is my first try at a multi-chapter story, probably three or four parts. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! :) Of course, I own nothing.

Rose awoke with a start, the breath leaving her lungs with a whoosh. She had been dreaming, if you could call it that - the same nightmare of a white room and falling, always falling. But it was not a normal dream of falling to one's death, waking just before impact. She'd almost welcome that. No, her falling was more a pulling, being pulled into nothing, viciously ripped away from the man she loved. And though she hadn't died, a vital part of her had. The part of her that had only come alive during their time together. All gone in a few fateful seconds. Her heart trembled, remembering. Desperation and terror and need. The worst part, though, was witnessing the devastation and heartbreak on his beautiful face, mirroring her own as they reached out to each other. However this time, as she stood facing that cursed, blank wall, in the midst of the renewed loss that gripped her heart like a vice, she heard him calling her name, cutting through her dream. It had a clarity and tenderness that her memories could never quite capture. "Rose."

Lost for a moment in wonder and confusion, reveling in the joy of just hearing him again, she forgot. Forgot for one glorious moment about her traitorous body. Desperate to share this unexpected and probably impossible hope with someone, she leapt from her bed, and promptly collapsed to the floor.

The Doctor dashed frantically around the console, checking the monitor and making minute adjustments. He felt a bit like he had as a young Time Lord, dashing madly about the universe on what Rose would probably have called a "scavenger hunt," he thought fondly, recalled to the moment as a quiet sob escaped his throat. There was no gleeful excitement or adventure in this race, though. This was pure desperation and quickly fading hope. The universe was closing itself off, healing, as it should - as he should want it to, he reminded himself. Yet here he was, the last Time Lord, chasing down time, searching frantically for one small gap. Just big enough to slip through and back again. Just big enough to claim what was his, what had been torn from him ruthlessly, too soon. She had promised him forever. Could the universe truly be so cruel, as to keep from him the source of all his joy, nay, his sanity? Was that asking too much? He really should have known the answer by now.

So that was it, then. He had found it, the last remaining gap between the universes, but it was too small. He couldn't get her back. Even as his hearts broke with the finality of it, the Doctor called out to her across the impossible distance that separated them, the effort exhausting him telepathically and physically. All for just the chance that, if it managed to reach her, her mind would accept his message. That she would trust a voice in her head (which would be strange for her to begin with) enough to follow it to wherever it might lead her in Pete's world. Hoping that the (relatively) inconsequential sun he planned to burn up would be enough to power the projection and not hurt anyone else in the process. He said not anyone else - because it would definitely hurt him. And her. So much trust and hope... just to say goodbye. Just so that their last memory of each other wasn't that one. Terror, grief, powerlessness, anguish... He recalled the look of fear and heartbreak on her face, the way his hearts and mind had screamed out within him in fury and despair, and his mind was decided. Usually the Doctor detested goodbyes, avoided them at all costs. But that would not be theirs.

He wished so desperately that he could do more. Losing her this way, so much sooner than even he'd expected, even though it confirmed his fears of losing her, revealed to him just how much he had sacrificed to protect himself. And it hadn't worked. All those walls, walls that he had built between them, still hadn't saved his hearts. The irony wasn't lost on him. The consuming pain and loss he felt now... had he really believed that holding himself back would somehow have made this less? Coward, he chastised himself. Three hearts are broken, and instead of memories of love to carry with you forever, you are left only with regret. He leaned against the console, weary and bereft.

The TARDIS hummed plaintively under his hands, the song new and yet vaguely familiar, lamenting their loss. He knew that the TARDIS missed Rose and... loved her almost as much as he did. The beautiful, pleading melody shook him, echoing the ache in his soul. He placed his hand lovingly against the time rotor, offering her the comfort of his touch as well as his mind. Her grief seemed to amplify his own, though he felt the faintest undercurrent of something he no longer had... was it hope? His hearts clenched, and he shook his head. Oh, how I wish... but you know there's no hope, old girl, he thought. You know I would do anything to get her back to us... but it's impossible. He dropped his hand and turned away. He had to be strong now, even if he didn't feel it, wasn't even sure he could survive this. This was his last chance to see her, his Rose, to say the things that even now, especially now, he wasn't sure he could.

At least he could say goodbye.