He looks so peaceful when he sleeps. He doesn't show any concern about saving the Earth. He doesn't look angry at Daleks or Cybermen. He's just...relaxed. Although, he isn't smiling either. God, I miss that smile. He actually hasn't done much at all for a while. Ever since the accident. Ever since he slipped into a coma.

You would think the cause of it would be something supernatural. Shot by Dalek. Attacked by the Slitheen. Not something so simple, so human. The Doctor, the last Time Lord, defender of the universe and the human race...hit by a car. Now, he lays in a hospital here in London, hooked up and unconscious. They've got a machine monitoring his hearts. I was a little nervous about what their reaction would be when they found out. Apparently, they've heard of him. Considering the circumstances, he's alright.

I have a chair pulled up to his bedside. I hold his hand, flooding with relief when I find it's still warm. I brush the hair from his forehead, holding back tears. It's been three weeks.

"Hey, Doctor," I murmur, as if not to wake him. "I know you can't hear me, but...I miss you. I miss you so much," My voice fails me and I have to stop, squeezing my eyes shut. I pause, taking a ragged breath. "I'm sorry," I squeak. "This is all my fault. You should be in the TARDIS, fighting aliens, not here in this damn hospital! I'm sorry, Doctor!" I rest my head on his shoulder, collapsing into sobs. I'll never forget how it happened.

"Come on, Doctor!" I squealed. It was snowing. I was surprised I could even see through the thick flakes. The TARDIS was parked across the street. I could make out its light in the dark. We were in a hurry, due to the cold. I scuffled halfway across the street that was abandoned at the moment. I stopped to look up at the flakes that were floating softly to the Earth. My feet were numb, but I didn't mind. I grinned, savoring the moment. I turned to see the Doctor, still on the sidewalk. He was staring at me, smiling.

"What?" I said, crossing my arms against the chilly air. He shrugged, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his trench coat.

"Nothing," he replied. "It's just that..." he didn't finish his sentence. His face dropped, and suddenly he wasn't looking at me anymore. My smile vanished, and I opened my mouth to ask him what was wrong, but I never got the chance.

"Rose!" he screamed. I spun around, gasping. Headlights appeared in the darkness, coming toward me at high speed. My mind told me to move, but my feet were glued to the spot out of fear. The lights were so blinding, and I was so scared. I could only register one action, and that was to close my eyes.

I felt something collide with me, though it wasn't the car. The impact sent me stumbling out of the way, and suddenly I was laying in the snow off to the side. There was a deafening thud, a yelp of agony, and the sound of an engine fading into the distance. They didn't even stop. I waited a moment before opening my eyes, fearing what would await me. As soon as I saw what was in front of me, I choked on air and tears ran down my cheeks immediately.

"Doctor," I breathed. He lay in the middle of the road in a broken heap. He wasn't moving. "Doctor!" I cried, crawling over to him. I rolled him onto his back and pulled his head into my lap, sobbing uncontrollably. He was covered in bruises. A thin trail of blood trickled from his lips. A new gash adorned his forehead.

"Why the hell did you do that, Doctor?!" I screeched, shaking him. "Get up! We have to get to the TARDIS! Doctor!" I was screaming at nothing. I cradled him in my lap until I finally found the sense to call for help. They tried to take me away from him while he was in the ambulance, but I wouldn't have it. I was kicking and screaming until they let me go with him. His hearts stopped twice. I haven't seen his eyes since.

Now here we sit. The TARDIS is still where we left it, alone with no pilot. I stay with him, holding his his hand in one of mine and moving the hair off his forehead with the other. There's no telling how long he'll be out. It could be another month, a year, or a day. I pray for the latter. The nurse comes in, checking her clipboard.

"Your visiting time is up, Miss Tyler." She snaps. I scowl.

"Why? He's not getting any better or worse," I retort. The nurse holds her ground.

"You don't have a choice, I'm afraid," she says. When I continue to refuse, she is forced to bring in some other men who grab my arms. As they pull me away, I can't help myself. I start screaming for the Doctor at the top of my lungs. I grasp his hand like a lifeline, not letting go. It's strange. It's almost like he's returning the grip. Suddenly one of them plunges a syringe into my arm, and the world goes fuzzy.

When I wake up, I'm in my own bed. Mum has left a breakfast for me, but I have no concerns about food right now. I wouldn't be able to stomach it. I throw the covers off of me and bolt out the door. I arrive at the hospital by noon, tired and short of breath. I ignore the secretary and punch the buttons on the lift. The ride seems endless. I certainly don't have time to lose; every moment counts.

As soon as the lift lurches to a stop, I sprint down the vast corridor and scan the doors for his number. I made sure they wouldn't experiment on him, yet my stomach still churns with worry. I skid to a stop at the sight of his door, fearing what waits behind it. To my dismay, it's locked when I try the handle. Immediately I reach for my pocket, fumbling for the little device. Sighing in relief, I pull out the Sonic Screwdriver. I was sure to get it out of his coat in the ambulance-they would have taken it for sure. As soon as I point it at the door, there's a click and the door swings open just enough for me to squeeze through. I close it behind me and approach him. He looks the same as he did yesterday. Expressionless. Empty. There's no sly half-smile on his lips. His eyes don't glint with adventure or excitement. Only the steady rise and fall of his chest.

My legs suddenly can't support me and I crumble next to his bed, the tears taking over once again. I look up at him, taking both of his hands. It's almost as if all the oxygen has been drained from the room. I struggle to find words, but all I hear is the ear-splitting crash and his cry of pain as the car collided with him. I remember the silence after it happened as I waited helplessly for any sort of confirmation that he was okay. Perhaps an It's alright, Rose. Just a scratch, or maybe even a feeble Allons-y would have done. But there was nothing.

The room feels like it has increased in temperature. I try to think of his smirk or the way his eyes would light up whenever we landed somewhere new. I take a gulp of air in a weak attempt so subside my weeping. This does not work. I lay my head on his arm, finally managing to speak.

"Please wake up," I choke out. "I lost my dad to a car and I'm not losing you, too! Please, please wake up...please..." my voice fails me. All I can do is cry pathetically, shouting at nothing. I close my eyes, sobs wracking my body. It's almost like I can feel him stroking my hair as he used to. It's like I can hear his chuckle, like I can hear his voice...

I can hear it so clearly.

"Oh, my Rose, you know it makes me sad to hear you cry." I freeze. It can't be. I must be daydreaming, or hallucinating, or going insane. Slowly, I raise my head, not knowing what to expect. There's a definite change that makes me gasp. He really is stroking my hair. His head has turned to look at me, and his eyes are open, full of joy. I stare at him, blinking. He smiles, pulling himself to a sitting position.

"Doctor..." I breathe in disbelief. He nods. I stretch a shaky hand toward him and caress his face, feeling like I should wake up back at home, groggy from being sedated. This is real. He's awake. My Doctor. He lays his hand over mine, not breaking his gaze. He goes deep into thought, scowling.

"What was I saying?" he mutters, looking around. I cannot find words. I can only stare at him, awestruck. He perks up, grinning. "Oh! I remember now." He pauses to brush the hair out of my face. He moves his hands so he's holding both of mine.

"It's just that you look beautiful," he whispers. Happiness flares in me, a smile coming onto my lips. I laugh in spite of myself, throwing my arms around him. He returns the embrace, a laugh escaping him as well. He's just the same as he was before.

A mere twenty minutes later, we're strutting through the lobby, linking arms. The Doctor's got his typical brown suit and trench coat back, with his converse to match. As we pass the gawking nurses and secretaries, he rips the gauze from around his head without flinching. He waves to the front desk where the people stare as he passes.

"Thanks for your help, but I won't be needing your services any longer," he calls. He stops short, looking to the nurse who tended to him. "Oh, and I suggest that you don't knock out my companion next time. Have a fantastic day." He gives her his cheeky smile, and she drops her clipboard in surprise. We push through the front doors, breaking into laughter. The TARDIS is still waiting for us on the street corner where we left it. It's almost surreal, being out of the hospital so quickly. That doesn't matter. All that matters is that we're together. They keep trying to split us up but they never ever will. We've got stars to see and planets to explore.

The Doctor and Rose Tyler in the TARDIS. Just as it should be.