I was watching Smith and Jones a while back, and got this idea. Certainly not the best, very angsty, kinda dark- but I found it from a few weeks ago and thought I would post it anyway.

Enjoy =D

"I think it's time you find some peace. Steady him."

The Doctor let himself be pushed to his knees, let his throat be bared to the Plasmavore. He didn't struggle, didn't fight. Didn't even think. He was numb.

He had lost Rose.

It was time he found some peace.

Final peace. Not the dulling and shallow peace that regeneration brought him. The final peace of irreversible death.

Let the earth care for itself. His work was done. The woman he cared about was no longer down there to protect anyway.

As the Plasmavore began to feed the Doctor felt his hearts begin to slow with a detached interest. It was over. Some last shred of self preservation had been telling him to throw off the slab and escape, but now that his blood was quickly being drained away he knew the die had been cast. His eyes started to slip closed as his brain began to starve.

Rose was gone.

It didn't matter.

With one last thought of her fading from him, separated forever, his eyes closed completely and his will to live died, his last breath slipping from between his lips as he gave up that once vibrant spirit, now broken.

He just wanted peace.

And yet something inside him was still clinging to life. One silver shred of his spirit still hadn't snapped. And though it flickered feebly in his breast, down knelt a young medical student to coax him back into living.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Warm hands pressed against his chest, trying desperately to save him- most likely at the cost of her own life by suffocation. She was giving him her air. She was forcing his hearts to sustain that last fiber that refused to snap.

And the Doctor remembered. Remembered why he loved the human race so. Why he fought to live, and why he wasn't ready to die. Clinging to the small fact that someone out there, someone who had known him for only a few hours, cared if he lived or died, he grasped that small shred of his spirit and used it to bring back his soul.

As he accepted the last breath Martha forced into him, and as her hands left his chest, their work done, he could feel that gaping wound in his soul begin to heal. He could feel the silver strand start to weave through the peaces, putting him together again.

As long as there were people willing to give up their lives to save others, as long as there were still people worth fighting for, he would fight to live so he could live to protect them.

Because that's what he did. Because that's what Rose fell in love with.

Because that's what she would have wanted.

Review, don't, it's up to you, but I would love to know what you think =D