Disclaimer:Not. Mine. Were it mine, the show would feature Rose, Ten, the cute alterna!Ten, and Nine. I miss Nine. As it were, it is not. Aw.

SORRY!

Should I even bother trying to defend myself or just bow my head and accept the spitting and cursing? Or in other words: oh my God, am I sorry for not updating sooner. So sorry I can't even think up an adequate apology. Don't you just hate it when fics arenever updated? And I mean 'never' in the sense where there's another yearin the "last updated" thing. I know I do! I hope I haven't lost you guys yet. This chapter has been tweaked ad infinitum (I looked that one up) but that's no excuse – still, I hope it's to your liking, and please let me know. Not less important: thank you so much for reviewing the last chapter! I mean, whoa, I love you guys!

Also, since I don't have a beta at the moment, I beg and encourage you to point out any mistakes in spelling, grammar, plot, continuity, etc. Also if you maybe wanna be my beta? Instant-yet-eternal gratitude. As you see, it's not a very demanding job. Although I promise to never do that again!

Update: Thanks to Anna McNarin for pointing out a silly mistake on my part. Fixed! Will definitely be looking for a beta once I get settled in the new semester.

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Chapter 10

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A day which begins with the thought "oh, no" can't possibly turn out to be even remotely good. And those were the first words on Rose's mind as it slowly returned to its fully-(The Doctor would snigger)-functioning mode.

It took Rose mere moments to realize why she woke up with the feeling of being an absolute, incorrigible idiot. Idiot like her first Doctor yelling the word at Mickey with the substantial power of Emasculating Northern Accent, that much of an idiot. There was no reason for her to feel this way, on the surface, because she was warm and quite comfortable, albeit a bit tired. And yet.

She opened her eyes slowly to take in her surroundings and gasped when she did.

She was covered by a suspiciously ratty duvet, and next to her, on the floor no less, laid none other than her employer-turned-fiancée, alien-turned-human, Mr. bloody John Smith.

They were both inescapably naked.

Yes, it was all coming back to her now.

At least it was still dark outside and a quick glance at her watch (her modern wristwatch she always forgot to remove) showed that only a couple of hours passed since John ran away from the TARDIS. Only a couple hours passed since…

She could feel her cheeks heating. She couldn't even think the words.

Rose covered her face with her hands and groaned as quietly as possible.

Of all the stupid things she could have done in this life or the next or all of them combined, she went and – you know! - with the Doctor. The Doctor! The nine hundred years old, last of the Time Lords, that one! Of all the people and life forms in the universe, past or future or present, from Elvis to the Face of Boe, she had to choose the Doctor! No, worse – the Doctor's alias! His weaker side which he entrusted in her hands to protect and shelter.

Oh,Rose.

There would be no living with him after this. Just the embarrassment, the mortification… he had kissed her, touched her in the most intimate of ways, the most intimate of places. He had showered his adoration without shame or restraint. The Doctor had always been so squeamish about these human… contacts. The more domestic, the more hedonistic, the more he shied away from it. And now she…

Would she ever be able to look him in the eye?

But it wasn't like she forced him or anything, she thought defensively a moment later. There had been no forcing, indeed. If anything, it was his fault – he was the one who proposed to her! Had he just kept to a normal, sexual-harassment free employer-employee relationship like any sensible person would, none of this would have happened.

And he had been so tender.

She glanced at him, breathing calmly next to her, oblivious to the world. His lips were slightly parted in wonder, no doubt uncovering yet another chapter of the Doctor's life.

Despite the inconvenience of the situation, Rose felt a smile rise from deep within her belly for the endearingly daft John Smith. He didn't deserve his lot in life.

He had been tender and sweet. He had sworn his love in words and beyond. For a moment frozen in time, they were a young couple, deeply in love and deeply in danger. The whole affair was tinged with just the right amount of tragedy and impending doom to make her forget the rest. Their adrenaline levels were heightened to frightening proportions. John Smith thought she was demented while she thought they were doomed. It felt like the last night on earth as they held each other for dear life.

His single heart pounded in his chest and she felt it against hers. John Smith's, not the Doctor's. They were so different all of a sudden.

She used to dream of nights like this one when she was younger. Romance novels and movies turned into yearning dreams of something different than her mother's flings, than her own boring and expected relationship with the boy next door she knew since she was a baby.

It might have been those very dreams that caused her to be swept away with the Doctor so easily in the first place. She dreamt of more. She wanted to see the universe, wanted to feel something beyond bored, unaccomplished, okay at best and stuck at worst. She knew that somewhere, something better was waiting just for her.

So she climbed into that Blue Box and succumbed to its wonders.

Fat lot of good that did.

How was she gonna get out of this mess?

Next to her, as if reacting to her distress, John Smith started to tremble.

:-:

"Rose! Hold on!"

She wasn't holding on wasn't holding on wasn't holding on.

Wasn't. Holding. On.

She was slipping further and what was he supposed to do? He was the Doctor; he was supposed to have all the solutions to all the problems. When people were in trouble, hehelpedthem. When Rose was stuck inside a TV, hehelped. When she was stuck in a room and the sun was closing in on her, hehelped. Trying to keep his jeopardy-friendly companion safe had become second nature, even as she proved herself quite capable time and time again. But what could he do now?

Everything was chaos, everything around them. Daleks and Cybermen, childish saltshakers and tin men chopping wood, wailing and screaming. Slipping away from reality. When creatures like them were scared, it was time to run.

And Rose, slipping away with them. She was so much better, and yet, he was going to lose her. Unless he figured out a brilliantly Doctor-ish, allons-y trick to save the day.

'Turn it off', that human voice inside him said – the one which was selfish and irrational and didn't give a twig about what would happen.Turn it off, save her, sod the Universe, it urged, temptingly.

Help me. Help her.

What has the Universe ever done for him, anyway? Would he be forever forced to sacrifice everything he cared about for it? He shouldn't have to. He was tired of it.

A Cyberman blasted past her and she slipped further.

This was it this was it this was it this was it. Please, no. No, no, no. Not her. Not her, please.

TURN IT OFF!

He couldn't. It would destroy the world,bothworlds. She would die either way but she would take the rest of the world with her in her wake. She would never forgive him if she survived. But she would die either way.

She slipped.

The power of the Void sent her flying backwards, her hands stretched forward, trying to grasp at nothing. Time seemed to slow, tantalizing, as if to make sure he wouldn't miss a second of it, to make sure he would dream of it with perfect clarity.

She screamed; he screamed louder.

No.

And then it was all over and her back hit the wall forcefully. He heard something crack and she yelped but he couldn't believe it. It was probably wishful thinking and he was going mad because there wasno waythe Void decided to closejustas she reached it. Not when it had one last victim to collect. These things didn't happen in real life. Such a happy, coincidental ending was just unfathomable. Adventures, always; miracles, rarely.

Rose looked just as shocked.

"Oh my God," she breathed, her voice hoarse and foreign in his ears.

The Doctor disentangled himself from the basically giant paper weight he had been grasping for dear life. Was this really happening? Was he walking towards her, his Rose that was being pulled away into Hell just seconds ago, with nothing standing between them? Were the Daleks gone? The Cybermen? Had they won? Was it over?

"Rose?" he asked weakly.

She looked at him, her eyes giant with wonder. "Doctor?" she answered, just as weakly.

Another moment wheezed by them as they stared blankly at each other.

And then the Doctor whooped. A full-on, Time-Lord, too-much-time-in-the-sun-really-should-seek-counseling deafening whoop. Seemed like this was real, he might as well enjoy it. "We did it!" he hooted, bouncing over to Rose. "We did it!" he said again, disbelieving his own frantic declaration, like a baby hearing its own voice for the first time. Rose still looked a little uncertain so he picked her up in his arms and spun her around.

Which was silly, as it didn't exactly help her orient herself. "But…" she murmured, staring at the Great Big Wall behind them. "But… no?"

No, what? Oh, who cares? He whirled her around again, wild and excited. He was so happy that he could have built a new galaxy with the sheer force of his glee. He would take her to Barcelona and Copa Cabana and wherever the hell the TARDIS saw fit to send them, he didn't care. He had won and his Companion had survived, both instances miraculous and against all odds.

Poor Rose, she was still not getting it. He imagined that once humans start seeing their life pass before their eyes, it's a little hard to just stop the tape. Silly creatures. How he loved them.

He lowered her gently and cupped her cheeks. "Rose?" he asked, very slowly.

Rose looked up at him, her lips parted in surprise. No sound came out.

"… Hello?" he tried tentatively.

Finally, there was a sign of recognition. "… Hello?" she whispered back.

The Doctor nodded, stroking her hair softly, lulling her back to reality. "Yes, hello."

"I slipped," she suddenly said, confused and apologetic. "I'm sorry?"

The Doctor laughed, trying to keep his cackling as maniac-free as possible so as not to frighten her. "Quite alright. It was very heroic! Silly humans, always jumping into the fray. Funny word, fray. Fray. Fried eggs. No, that's not the same." he mused. "Thought, so do I, I supposed… jump, that is." Realizing he was once again overwhelming her with unnecessary conversation, he shrugged and grinned, "You're alright, by the way!"

"I am?"

"Afraid so."

Her lips formed a hesitant smile. "Really?"

The Doctor's smile was big enough for the both of them. He was in danger of actualizing that hyperbole about smiling from ear to ear. "As real as the Slitheen are smelly!" he chirped and then frowned. Well, that was neither witty nor especially kind to the Slitheen, was it? Never mind, moving on. He'd had a hard day today and he was allowed to be a bit daft.

Rose's eyes brightened gradually as she grasped the situation. And then, without warning, in true Rose Tyler style, she let out something between a choked sob and roaring laughter. The Doctor could relate. Either way, the last piece of the puzzle – the fact that they won – finally fell into place and she started laughing in earnest, tears running down her cheeks.

The Doctor had half a mind to say something insulting about the nature of human's physical reactions, because he was the Doctor and it was his job. But his throat closed in protest and he couldn't, wouldn't break the moment for anything. Instead, he joined her overjoyed laughter and wrapped his arms around her again. He couldn't seem to let go for too long, afraid she'll slip away. They held each other tightly enough to steal their breaths away; they were both dizzy and lightheaded but the laughter never stopped.

:-:

John stirred.

He was feeling dizzy, almost seasick, but he was laughing.

He was not himself anymore. He was having one of those dreams that used to be nothing but idle fantasies. What were they now? Was it always this… alien, the way he felt? He felt as if three tons of information were trying to fit into his tiny human brain. The gentle waves of time he was in no condition to comprehend, trying to jam their way inside. It had never been like this before. His dreams used to be abstract.

Not like this. More than a dream, this felt like a memory.

Rose was there, in his arms. But she was also here, in the real world that he could feel just barely though the barriers of sleep. She was on the cold floor, in his arms. She was the only link between this world and that one.

They were laughing, hugging with intimacy that took years to build, so different from how they were now.

He didn't like it anymore. It was too alien. He wanted to wake up.

His eyes snapped open.

Rose startled in alarm at the sudden movement. "Mr. Smith?"

He couldn't help thinking, Back to that, then?

His eyes focused on hers. He was surprisingly alert.

"Is that who I am now?" he asked quietly.

She bit her lip helplessly. "I guess. I don't know. Are you?"

"I think so," he said, glancing down at himself. He seemed human enough, at least. Then again, the rude (definitely not ginger) clone that spoke to them in the box had looked human enough as well. In fact, it had looked exactly like him.

"Look, Mr. Smith…" Rose started, her cheeks reddening as she clutched the blanket tightly around herself.

"Call me John," he almost pleaded, suddenly very aware of the fact that he was wearing a lot less fabric than he usually did around members of the female persuasion. Well. Awkward. He cleared his throat. "Surely we've progressed to given names, after…"

"About that-"

"Rose, I-"

She held up a hand, looking quite mortified. "No, really, it's alright. Whatever…" she made a vague gesture with her hand, "happened, we can deal with… after." She straightened, making sure to cover herself properly. Maybe if she were to imagine that they were merely discussing the situation over tea, they would be. She was being ridiculous, anyway. This wasn't her first time, for her to act like it was the end of the world. "We, uh… Tim! We left Tim, in the TARDIS, alone, with the watch? That's not good; that's very bad."

Very fluent, Rose.

John almost groaned. Not the nonsense about the TARDIS again. He could positively swear in court that he was sick of the whole thing. "Look," he said as calmly as he could. "Could you… if you were to explain to me what exactly is going on, right now, without lying or spinning the truth, or however you prefer calling it, then I… would consider, perhaps… believing you? I must stress the part about the perhaps."

"That's fair," Rose admitted. At least he wasn't talking about what had transpired between them. "But can we do it while on the way?"

John was feeling brave enough to give it a try. "Right. We were being chased by… The Family?"

Her face broke into a dazzling smile that was almost worth indulging in the mess she had orchestrated. Despite all that has happened, he was suddenly struck by how strongly he was in love with this madwoman. He truly wanted to marry her, still. In fact, more and more as every minute went by. It was madness.

"Yes!" she almost squealed. "Exactly! Because of The Family. The very real, very dangerous Family of Blood we should 'ave been dealing with, instead of…" she cleared her throat, unable to believe her own stupidity. They had finally moved on from the subject - why was she bringing it up again? Stupid Rose. "Doesn't matter. We need to find the TARDIS, and Tim, and the watch, and now."

Was this why the Doctor was always nattering incoherently? Because he was so anxious? Rose felt on the verge of tearing out her own hair. Her hands fidgeted violently as she stumbled with her stupid dress but she was still ready to go within seconds. John's movements, on the other hand, were slow and hesitant. It was quite maddening.

"Mr. Smith, I don't mean-"

"John, Rose," he interrupted. "It's John."

"Yeah, 'course. Anyway, John," the name sounded foreign on her tongue but this was hardly the time to be petty."I don't mean to be rude, but could you get a move on?"

"Yes, of course," he answered instinctively but his brow wrinkled in a frown a moment later. "No, wait. What? A move on what? What's a move?"

Rose resisted the urge to scream and instead amended calmly: "I mean, would you mind hurrying it up a bit? Please?"

The last part was more a squeak than a plea, but it got the job done just as well. John quickly pulled his clothes on, blushing all the way through it even as she swiftly turned away and stood stiffly with her eyes shut tight, quite crimson herself.

Well, he thought a bit bitterly, if they had been married like he suggested, this unbearable awkwardness might have been prevented. Rather, he imagined a warm breakfast, many kisses and cancelling work for the day, or the month, because he simply couldn't get enough of her. And to think, yesterday John Smith was still a bookish bloke with no notable attributes that were especially attractive to women, but today… he felt on top of the world! He felt confident and powerful, but at the same time light as a blissful feather, especially when his mind wandered back to…

Well. He had to keep himself from thinking too much about last night if he wanted to focus on the more… pressing matters at hand. It would do no good to start mooning over the pleasures of the flesh that could be achieved with the lovely lady of one's dreams. Literally.

Rose cleared her throat again, as if chiding him for his thoughts. "Uh, Mr… John. Are you decent… yet?"

John realized he had been buttoning and unbuttoning the same button while his thoughts drifted. Cheeks burning, he quickly finished donning his poor, battered suit from the dance. It was dirty and horribly wrinkled but it would have to do. He couldn't wait to return to his quarters and change, though.

For the first time he wondered how the Family had entertained themselves during all this time. Alien or not, they were sadistic and insane.

He hoped everything was relatively alright. He hoped the world had stopped briefly to allow him and Rose those few hours of happiness.

And as he hoped this, a terrible bombing sound shook the foundations of the cabin.

"Oh my God," Rose murmured, turning around and forgetting her shyness. "Oh my God, what are they doin'?"

"What was that?" John asked, moving closer to her instinctively.

"They're trying to scare you out," Rose said, before adding: "I hope that's what they're doin'. We 'ave to go now, back to the TARDIS, that's all I can think of."

Her accent got strange when she was nervous. It was adorable. Still, no time to dwell.

They ran, again.

John Smith was quickly becoming quite sick of that, too.

:-:

When they reached the barn that previously held the TARDIS, Rose froze in her tracks.

The blue box was gone, to be replaced by a brigade of those… scarecrow… things. They were clearly waiting for them. Wordlessly, Rose pulled him behind some bushes.

"Where's the, uh… magic carpet box?" John asked lamely. "Did it… fly away?"

Rose's eyes shot to his and she gasped with horror. Clearly, the thought never occurred to her. "No! It wouldn't, it would never," she shook her head. "Unless… no. No way. No."

"What?" he asked, rather impatiently – but who could blame him? "What is it, Rose? What's happening?"

"Tim," she said, so pale that she was almost glowing. The very definition of the word 'ghostly'. "He had the watch, and all that… psychic ability or whatever. Maybe he… tried to fly it?" she shook her head at her own idea. "No! It would be an absolute…disaster. You… I mean, the Doctor, can hardly manage to fly the TARDIS properly. Ican barely power her up without blowing somethin'. Imagine… he's just a kid! 'sides, they wouldn't be here," she indicated the scarecrows. The matter of whether the possibility that the Family stole the TARDIS was a better alternative remained unclear.

Another bombing pierced the sky.

"It's in the direction of the school," John murmured, tabling Rose's confusing ramblings for the time being. Really, he should just refrain from asking questions. It was doubtful that he'll like the answers. "They're mad. They'll hurt the children. Rose, we have to help them!"

Rose looked utterly lost, with those big brown eyes of hers focused on seemingly nothing, but another bombing snapped her to her senses.

He grabbed her hand, forcing her to take a second to look at him. He felt he had to ask. "Will this ever be over? Is it ever not like this?"

Rose's eyes bore into him. "Only if you run away and stop looking. The Doctor never does. Do you want to?"

Lord, did he ever. But he didn't answer and she took it for what it was: resignation. He couldn't let those children get hurt if he could help it. They were cadets and he was their teacher. Their safety was his responsibility. He would never be able to look at himself in the mirror if he ignored his duty, and rightfully so.

He sighed, eyes dropping to her lips. Rose nodded as if she understood the urgency. He kissed her without preliminaries, none too gently, just to make sure at least she was real, that she hadn't been taken away. He had meant to be brief out of respect for the situation, but found himself reluctant to let go and return to the horrifying reality they were drowning in. Another second couldn't hurt, he told himself. Not when it was so wonderful.

Rose didn't pull away like she knew she should have. On the contrary, her arms came to encircle his neck, on their own volition, it seemed.

:-:

They had no idea who was the instigator; they had been too ragged, too excited and dizzy for such a complicated cognitive analysis. And if even if they remembered later, they were happy to pretend they didn't and that it never even happened in the first place.

It was silly, really.

But when they pulled apart, just enough to breathe but not enough for anything else, they suffered from a surge of insanity and their lips met. It was just a few seconds, it was hardly romantic. It was the simplest of kisses, and yet, they didn'tdothat. They weren't like that. They had perfected hugging into an art form, but kissing was simplynot done. The one time had been on the moon and it was obviously all business. Not to mention, the Doctor squirmed and made such a fuss even as she openly laughed at him for being embarrassed like a child.

Still, this was different.

This was… different.

They broke apart, with Rose blushing to her toes and the inhuman Doctor merely furiously rubbing his ear as a clear sign of embarrassment. She could hide behind her pesky humanity; what was his excuse? Adrenaline? He was clearly trying to think one up.

Rose, knowing him enough to know that this may turn into an orchestra of "err…"s and "sorry"s, simply shook her head as if to brush the whole thing off and buried her face in the crook of his shoulder as she often did, inhaling deeply. She could feel the grief over losing her entire family, the loneliness sure to come, looming in the back of her mind. She was alone now. The last of the Tylers. But she didn't want to think about that; didn't want to think, period.

She was with her Doctor, and they were safe, for the extremely short time being. They lived another day.

The Doctor hugged back, tightly, unwilling to let go, foolishly hoping that this was the last big battle, that from now on he could keep her safe and with him.

:-:

John Smith broke the kiss with a gasp, frightened at how his dreams have apparently become waking hallucinations, but even more frightened of what was to come. Rose let go of one of his hands but her grip on the other tightened in preparation.

"Rose," he said, stupidly, knowing she wouldn't like it. She didn't last time. "I love you."

Her breath caught in her throat. She looked utterly heartbroken.

"Me, John Smith," he felt the need to clarify. "I love you, Rose Tyler."

Rose shook her head slightly as a tear rolled down her cheek. Her shoulders trembled. "In another life, I would've loved you, too," she whispered, voice choked. A moment later she added firmly, "John."

It would have to be enough. After all, he wasn't even real – at least not in her eyes. He kissed her again, quickly this time, feeling like he'd better enjoy what he had as long as he still had it. One way or another, though it pained him to admit it, he could see anything between them was doomed to be short-lived.

And so, guess what they did.

They ran.

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I don't know if it was worth waiting for, like, two years, but good? Bad? I'd love to hear what you think! Won't you please review?