They stood together, stock-still for ten seconds. You could have heard a pin drop.

"Um, could you just tell me what th'hell happened?" Rose finally got out. She turned to him, scowling. "What the hell did you just agree to?"

"Nothing you have to worry about," he smiled, trying his best to be reassuring. "Just a little pact, I'll figure out what they meant later." He shrugged, hissing at the pain assaulting his shoulder. He wouldn't tell her.

It was already going to be hard enough.

"Now, I hate to complain, but my shoulder really does smart."

Rose squinted at him. She knew Rule Number One. And maybe he wasn't completely the Doctor all the time, but he was extra-Doctorish now. And she knew he just used Rule No. 1. But looking as the tiniest bit of blood began to bleed through the shoulder of his jacket, she decided that it would have to wait.

She cursed under her breath. "Looks like that broken collarbone got tired of staying under the skin," she nodded at it.

He looked at it, and his expression crumpled into a pout. "Shame. I liked this shirt."

"It hasn't come all the way through. But damn, how could you not feel that happen? I know 'bout adrenaline, but come on."

He thought about shrugging again, but his shoulder ached more painfully as if in harsh reminder. "Dunno. Distracted." He wiggled a finger vaguely at his head, forcing a smile that had creases worn and edged around it. "A lot bonkin' around in the old head, me. You know how it is; brilliant old time lord brain, thinking of a million different things, you're not gonna realize a few things."

A soft sigh from her parted lips that made him shiver, and she glanced at the blooming poppy of red on his shirt. "We need t'get you to hospital."

He groaned, but his shoulder rang up his neck and down his spine, nociceptors radiating and itching down his body, his cells slowly releasing a cocktail of histamines and his brain making his pain ever present- a part of his brain he was unable to shut down anymore.

"Fine."

"...what else is wrong?"

"Besides my practically glass skeletal structure rupturing out of my body and the unconscious people lying about and the aggressive pink-eyed soldiers who are apparently very angry at me?"

Another sigh from the dryness of her perfume commercial mouth. The Doctor could see fine dust from the destruction of the building settling in the cracked corners and the ridges in her lips. "I have a lot on my mind." It was almost an apology.

Rose had wanted to bind his shoulder up, but now that it had broken the skin, she didn't want to mess with it. "What's gonna happen to all of them?" she mercifully moved on, gesturing to the unconscious bodies.

"They should wake up, consciousness trans-placer, nice bit of equipment. They'll be fine, nothing to worry about. I'd imagine Pete is around here somewhere."

"Oh," she sighed in relief. She wanted to find her dad, but right now she needed to focus on getting the Doctor to a medic before the rest of his collarbone ruptured through the skin. Already people were beginning to stir on the floor, groaning and murmuring. Rose turned suddenly when the door to the room that had previously been covered by rubble burst open and dozens of soldiers in black uniform swarmed the room.

"UNIT has taken control of the building and it is closed off until further notice, you all need to evacuate!" yelled the commander. He nodded at the Doctor and Rose, the only other fully conscious people in the room. "Everyone alright?" he asked.

Rose nodded. "Everyone should be fine, I'll just be getting this one to the medic, nothin' serious."

The Doctor followed Rose as she led the way, quiet, until they had left the proximity of any nearby people. "Rose, can I ask you something?" he asked suddenly, as if plucking the question out of thin air.

She was rummaging in her pockets for her car keys and looked up, startled. "Yeah, 'course."

He was going to have to reword this. "I was thinking... maybe I should get my own place."

Rose stopped walking and her face drained of it's color. For whatever reason it felt as if her stomach had fallen into her shoes. Why? It's not like they had any reason to be living together.

He continued, more quickly. "I checked with the estate agents there's this nice flat nearby. You know, flat, empty, needs person to live in it... I think you know…" He coughed, mid-ramble. "I think I've been taking advantage of your hospitality." Distance would be the best course of action for now.

Rose's chest tightened. He was right, he was an adult. She didn't blame him for not wanting to be around her anymore. She realized she had been silent for several moments and shook her head. "Yeah, yeah. Of course. I mean, if that's what you really want t'do." She swallowed against her dry tongue.

"Well..." He wanted to say this wasn't what he wanted. In fact, he wanted nothing less than this. But.

He'd promised.

"I think it would be best." That was so very hard to say. This isn't what I want. He resisted the urge to snatch at her hand. He wanted to hold her. He wanted her to smile. The last thing he wanted was to see the colour drain from her face.

Though in all fairness, she had been giving him mixed signals.

She attempted to make her facial expression casual. "Best. Yeah, um, if you-" she tried.

"Rose?!" called a familiar voice.

Rose felt instant relief, partly because she was overjoyed to hear that voice again, partly because he had removed her from the awkwardness and hurt for a moment and she didn't have to respond. She immediately turned around and embraced him. "Pete!" she squeezed her eyes shut as she took in her dad's familiar smell of shaving cream and black coffee. He rocked her back and forth like she was the little girl he never got to raise, and she could feel herself on the brink of tears in her arms. It had been a rough day.

"Oh thank God, Rose," he breathed into her ear. He was covered from head to toe in soot and dust from plaster, but seemed no worse for wear. "You alright? Jax, Tony. Is everybody safe?"

Rose separated herself from him and smiled. "They're fine. People outside the building and comin' in were hurt an' there have been casualties, but everyone in the building is fine. Displacement field."

Pete listened closely. He was clever, but it still didn't make a whole lot of sense. "Displa- Rose, exactly what aliens used a displacement bomb and why?" he demanded.

She shook her head. "I'll explain later, I have to get 'im home for his shoulder," she jerked her head back at the Doctor. "Oh, this is yours." She pressed the phone into Pete's hand. "Call Mum back, she's worried sick. I'll explain everything completely once everything is taken care of."

Pete nodded and went back to assessing damage and finding out who had been hurt by the bomb. Rose swallowed the lump in her throat and walked down the now-cleared stairs to get her car parked a few blocks down by the restaurant.

Yanking the car door open, he slumped down into the seat. Resting his head against the plush head rest he closed his eyes. He would just sit and mind his own as Rose drove him to the hospital.

She drove in silence for the first eight minutes. She counted. He shared the quiet. Finally, Rose huffed a breath out of her nose and gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles whitened. "Sit up straight and keep your shoulder level." Damn, that's not what she had wanted to say. She tried again. "Need to talk?" she ventured awkwardly.

"No." It came out too sharply, and he heard the leather squeak a little as she stiffened. "I'm fine. Just tired." There. Less grumpy, more suiting to the injured man he was. This was going to be difficult. More than difficult. Impossible.

You've done impossible before, Doctor.

Why, why did I have to say yes?

Because of the sake of the planet, because of her sake. That's why.

But I don't want to go. I don't want to leave her. Please.

Tough.

It was the normal local Cardiff hospital, but Torchwood had a secret medical base where they went every time they had suspicious injuries. The Doctor always went here because of his "interesting" biology. The rest of the way down to the medic was without an exchange of words. Rose pressed the button on the elevator and it read her fingerprint, taking them down to the hospital basement that supposedly didn't exist. The lack of exchange was discomforting to say the least. He wanted to speak but small talk seemed out of place in the confined space.

Stepping out of the lift they were greeted with a kind looking nurse with too-red lipstick. The young woman smiled but her face dropped into concern as she saw the Doctor.

"The explosion at Torchwood?" she asked, tenderly leading him towards an unoccupied room. The Doctor merely nodded.

Red-Lipstick's brow furrowed. "I'll just go and get a doctor. Make yourself comfortable." She dashed out of the room, not closing the door behind her.

The Doctor slumped down on to the bedding, and they sat in uncomfortable quiet for another forty-six seconds (he counted) before Rose attempted small talk. It would distract him from the shoulder at least. "So... What flat were you thinking of getting? A new set of them just opened on Bank street. Jenette moved in there and said it was great…." she trailed off.

To be honest, he hadn't put any thought in to it at all, the whole talking to estate agents had been a lie, a white lie. Another moments of awkward silence went by.

What had become to the Unstoppable Gob, the conversations they used to have? "You aren't overstaying your welcome, if that's what it's all about."

"Nahh, s'just that I'm rather sure your mother is sick of me, and frankly. I'm unsure how long I can cope in a confined space with Jackie Tyler," he tried to joke. it somehow fell flat. "I'm a hassle. I think it'd be best," he repeated, he couldn't think of anything other than that to say. His mind was blank, completely and utterly blank.

Her face felt cold from the lack of blood that seemed to have rushed straight into her stomach, making it grow hot and heavy and uncomfortable. "You're not. You help out around the house. I mean, you fixed the dishwasher permanently when none of the paid plumbers could, you extrapolated the colony of micronimons living on the shower heads. An'- an' Tony loves you. He'll miss you." I'll miss you.

"I'll visit. I'm not moving planet." Yet, he was tempted to add. No, baby steps. Now was not the time to have a mental break down. He cleared his throat, and looked to the ceiling as if it had became suddenly very interesting. It was tiled, white like the rest of the room. When he looked carefully he could see flecks of dirt clinging starkly to the surface.

Rose was saved from trying to make small talk the Doctor obviously didn't want to engage in by Dr. Glatimos entering the room.

He pulled at his gloves and shook his head. "I thought it would be you," he sighed. "Can't seem to keep yourself in one piece, can you?" He gingerly peeled off the jacket and unbuttoned the shirt as Rose had done. The Doctor's shoulder had swollen twice to how it had since Rose had looked at it. It was less red and more purple, and blood was oozing around a bloody tip of white poking through the skin. "What did you do?" Dr. Glatimos sighed again, despairingly.

"He forgot that his bone density was 50% more human and jumped through a hole on the third floor to the second floor." Rose answered.

Doctor Glatimos looked almost pained at his apparent stupidity. "Alright, well, simply popping it in won't do any good." He explained as he reached around the bed to get a tray full of medical equipment. "Hope you don't mind injections."

"Needles? No problem. Except when you're from Fijukkikus, never clean it in their medical equipment, nasty. Or a handbot, on Applulappac-" And with that, Glatimos gave him some morphine, and the Doctor yelped, sounding something like a squeaky toy being stepped on.

Rose crossed her arms. "So what are you doing with the broken collarbone?"

Glatimos took apart the needle and put the syringe away. "It's a very jagged break, part of the bone is crushed and the other end is split off. Not sure how you managed to do that," he spared his patient a sideways glance. "I'll have to put in a steel rod temporarily. Because of his compromised Time Lord biology, the clavicle has already started to repair itself. Incorrectly. I have to put it back into place, meld it to the bar. Then we can talk about putting the shoulder back into place."

The Doctor groaned, leaning against the pillow. He was regretting jumping like that more with every passing minute. Why had it seen like a good idea earlier? Oh yes, because Rose was insisting upon approaching what could have been an bomb. Was it worth it? Yep.

Glatimos continued talking over his groans. "His shoulder should be mostly healed with the combined help of our bone growth serum and his genetics in about a month. It might always have a weakness due to damage done to the muscle, but until we do an x-ray we can't be sure. We can only hope the muscle tissue wasn't damaged too badly and that it's not infected."

Knowing he had no choice in the outcome he saw it fit just to do as he was told. "Sounds like a plan then." He acknowledged as he leaned against the pillow, he hissed and recoiled backwards as the pressure stung his shoulder. "I'll be as right as rain soon enough."

"I'll send a nurse in a few minutes to do an x-ray, and we can give the first injection schedule possibly putting in a rod in if it's needed." Dr. Glatimos wrote down a few more details before nodding at them both. "Nurse Kizzlet will be with you in a moment." he said as he walked out the door. They sat in silence for a few more minutes.

"How're you doing?" she asked. "In your own honest, professional opinion?" She didn't want sugar-coating.

He sniffed haughtily. "Had worse."

"Not very comforting, considerin' how you've died nearly a dozen times before."

He grinned a little. It was easier to pretend everything was okay. As long as she was here he would keep smiling. Though, knowing how smart she was, she would probably see through him…. she was as sharp of a needle. She had told him to be honest and he had, after all she had only referred to being truthful about his shoulder. He would have to sort this out eventually, though he knew he would have to be patient... this…. was all about her. He blinked. He was slowly getting woozy from the morphine.

"Think you'll need a bar put in?" she asked, shifting and leaning to the side in the chair, her face cradled absently in her hand. "What's the damage?" She could see his gaze was slowly unfocusing- instead of his usual blinks where he couldn't seem to close both eyes at the same time, both eyelids were bobbing up and down evenly.

"Umm. Maybe. It depends on... Sorry." He was having trouble being coherent. " I... I don't know sorry." He drawled, the oncoming blur shocked him, he was fine mere moments ago. Human bodies were odd things, baffling hosts of numerous chemical reactions all churning away... Fascinating...

She could see it was hitting him quickly. Weird, this body of his, like odd bits of Time Lord and human cobbled together in strange ways. "It's okay, we'll know soon anyway, yeah?" Rose smiled gently. At least he didn't look so worried anymore, the morphine or the shoulder pain or both had taken his mind off it. Whatever 'it' was. He was acting suspicious, she knew something was up. Maybe that's why he was determined to move out? No, she was making up excuses. Like it wasn't like he was trying to get away from her. She deserved it, after how she'd treated him. Rose's stomach turned. She wouldn't think about that now. She leaned heavier onto her hand, tucking a rogue lock of blonde hair behind her ear. It was a mess, covered with soot, she probably looked like hell. "Morphine kicking in?" she asked softly.

"Mmmm. Yeah." He muttered, his eyes fluttering closed briefly for a moment, he had to fight the feeling. He did not want to sleep yet he... he didn't know why he had to.. What? What did he have to do? Wow this was an odd sensation, he felt all warm and fuzzy his mind hazed. Disoriented. He could not feel his shoulder. In fact, he could not feeling anything, not his arms, not the bed underneath him... "I... this is so odd. I feel all... wow," he muttered, a dazed grin spreading across his face.

Rose smiled despite herself. "What, there isn't an Time Lord version of morphine?" His eyelids fluttered like lazy moth wings. He almost looked deluded, not like himself at all. For the very first time, Rose saw the Doctor's face without that lingering sense of bitterness and dark. They seemed to have melted away as the drug forced him to stop holding onto his burden. Rose briefly wondered if she should question the Doctor in this state, he would be more honest, maybe not even remember it. The thought of it was irresistible for a moment until she was horrified at herself. That would be unfair. But imagine... the Doctor. No boundaries, no inhibitions, no walls that he usually put up. But Rose was so tempted, yet disgusted at herself. He wasn't an alien at Torchwood she needed to take advantage of and interrogate, and she needed to get that idea out of her head. Instead, she leaned over and patted his hand affectionately.

"I don't.. like hospi'als, if I'm actually really… truthfully checked in 'em. Different if I snea' in... I died in a hospital..." He looked distressed. "They… humans, thought m-my heartbeat was irregular, knock me out, wouldn't listen... Killed me, poor Grace, blamed 'erself... Dr. Grace Holloway, very pretty... I kissed 'er, you know, three whole times."

She balked, raising her eyebrows, and couldn't help feeling a little jealous.

"...Or was it four? She wanted t'hold back death… Her dream, bless. Still don't like hospitals." He seemed as though he was drifting off, like a piece of driftwood caught in the tide. "You know Rose... I really... You don`t see do you?" He rambled in a similar form to a delirious drunk. His mind having once been in tip-top condition, the peak of condition, was almost borderline a crumbled mess on the bed.

Rose's stomach leapt into her throat, but kept a straight face. Maybe she wouldn't have to ask at all, maybe he would spill his guts all on his own. "Don't see what?" she asked in a calming voice in response to his slight tone of distress.

"I... You know. You have to." His hand clenched tightly and it became pallid. His eyes dropped closed, fighting a losing battle. His body was exhausted after the combined effort of the day and the injury. The morphine- oh the morphine, he was unsure if he liked this or not. It was nice, he felt happy, but at the same time this happiness was hollow and fake. Happiness was cause by her, now. She had to know that. She was all he had. She was all he ever wanted.

Rose squeezed his hand gently. The level of his emotions were being escalated by the drugs, including his distress. He seemed nearly desperate to tell her whatever he was thinking. God, he was so vulnerable. The pain and the emotion that her Doctor had hidden with the technobabble and excitement was spilling all over the sheets.

"I'm afraid you'll have to tell me, I'm a little slow, even for a stupid ape," she laughed lightly.

Barely feeling her reassuring touch he shook his head in blurred dismissal. "Stupi'? No, no, never," he slurred. Why would she think that? She was different, yes. Why else would she be... Thinking was a difficult task, even his basic motor skills were faulty. He wanted to hold her hand with both of his, but the drowning numbness in his wounded arm would not allow that.

"We're all stupid compared to you." Human or not. She gave him a bit of a sad smile. "You should sleep, now." Rose whispered, patting his bony uninjured shoulder, again sharply reminded at his unnatural thinness. She started to get up.

"No." He sounded like a stroppy child and snatched feebly at her hand, if she chose to pull away she could easily have done so. He hoped she would not. He did not want to be alone. The idea of being stuck in this room, in this hospital, with doctors clustered around him, despite his protests that he wasn't like them, please don't cut me open... "Please stay," he added, his fingers coiling around her hand. His bony fingers slipped uselessly up and down her own, unable to get a proper grip. His brown eyes were pleading.

The voice of a woman who had gotten the opportunity to see through the layers of his mind echoed back to her. "Such a lonely little boy," Reinette had called him, as Rose had eavesdropped, unable to move on. It had always pained her a little how he didn't let her see all that, and the beautiful Madame de Pompadour had seemed to get to know him better in the space of two minutes than she had in two years. "Lonely then and lonelier now." Rose had watched through the mirror time window as the gorgeous french aristocrat had met the Doctor's shocked eyes with sadness. "How can you bear it?"

How DID he bear it? It was this memory of something she had not been meant to see that haunted Rose during those years before the dimensional cannon worked. Who was going to hold his hand now?

Me, she decided resolutely, closing her hand round his to help him get a better grip. She sat again. "Of course I will." she smiled again, hiding the teariness in her voice well.

Comforted by the warmth seeping through their joined hands, he was finally able to close his eyes. He was thankful. "Thank you," he murmured with a slack smile. The morphine acting as a powerful catalyst for slumber he drifted off immediately.

The Doctor dreamed nearly every time he slept. They were often dark, offshoots of distant memories. In the technical sense they were nightmares, but he never referred to them as such- naming them would acknowledge them. Even 'The real Doctor' had troubles sleeping but luck, for him being a Timelord, that had never really been much of an issue (he did not require very much sleep). That was one of the downsides of being human(or part, anyway); he required so much sleep.

He was standing on the beach, rain rushing down in vicious torrents. He was soaked to the bone, his suit provided little protection from the drench. The seas were stormy, the foamy tide violently beat against the cluster of rocks that perched on the beach.

Rose held his hand even when it went completely slack, which was almost immediately. It gave her time to think about the Altermani, what had they meant? She was deep in thought when an unexpected vision appeared before her eyes. It was strange, blurred grey at first, and she blinked curiously. Then the image focused. The image of a beach, soaked by the rain. Then the picture was gone, it had lasted only a moment. Then again- the rainy beach, a soaked suit, the angry froth of the sea. She could see someone.

She felt terror that wasn't her own. Unintentionally, she squeezed the Doctor's hand in the hospital room as she strained to get a better look. The image sharpened until it was as clear as crystal.

The sound of timid footsteps against the soggy sand was as loud as creaking floor boards in an silent house. He turned, his face lit up knowing who it was. The familiar figure, he would never forget. Her sunshine hair was plastered to her head, despite the gusts of wind that desperately wanted to whip it in the wind. "Rose," he murmured, his hand rising automatically. She stood in her place, her face covered up with her veil of hair.

The figure- it was her. Rose felt two things at once- unexplainable joy that seemed like it didn't come from her, and the shock at her presence. Why was she seeing HERSELF? Rose. It was the Doctor's voice. It was so hopeful that it hurt.

Rose's hands flocked to her stomach and she hunched over in pain. Red spittle's of blood were flung out of her mouth as she coughed. "Doctor," she gasped, her voice seeping in agony. She took a step forward, though her legs wobbled under her weight. "No!" He yelled out, dashing in slow motion, unable to catch her as she fell down towards the sodden sand. "No!"

The Rose that she saw on the beach suddenly hunched forward in pain. Beads of scarlet sprayed from her lips as she hacked and coughed. A violent rush of tortured feelings from the outside source hit her all at once, but they were not her own. "No!" It sounded like the the same tone that had screamed her name as she was sucked into the white of hell, the same agony.

He was running, running, faster! But it felt like he was moving through syrup as the Rose she saw collapsed onto the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Rose watched herself bleed delicately through the grains of wet sand, strangely unaffected, despite the wash of foreign agony that she was aware of. She couldn't do anything.

"Rose," he sobbed, cradling her head.

I'm here, she thought desperately, watching him cup her lifeless face. I'm here, I'm okay, can't you see me?

But it was like being trapped behind the time window mirror again, unable to be seen or heard, unable to touch.

Only watch.

Only listen.

Okay, first chapter in forever, so soon after I said I was ending this thing for good. It's all thanks to my lovely reader Ashena-Iulik, who edited this chapter enough so I could stand looking at it enough to edit it myself. Thank you, lovely, you are phenemonal. Hopefully next chapter will be out soon, now that I have someone to help me.