Author's Note

Alright! This is my first story in the Doctor Who fandom, and I am so proud of it! I started watching the show back in May and what particularly got to me was the relationship between Rose Tyler and the Tenth Doctor, especially Doomsday. Needless to say, I was not satisfied with that ending, and I have taken it upon myself to fix it. However, it quickly turned into this thing.

I know it's in letter format, but there's more than just a letter. In this story, it contains some of the lessons I've always wanted to share and I tried to truly put the reader in Rose's shoes as she goes through this journey. This is the first of almost half a dozen letters, and there's a true and real plot behind them. I really hope you guys stick around and witness it unfold. Most of it's been written, and, like I said, I am so proud where's it gone.

I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing it. Review, comment, tell me anything and everything.

Erin x

"Where have all the good men gone
And where are all the gods?
Where's the street-wise Hercules
To fight the rising odds?
Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and turn and dream of what I need."

Dear Doctor,

I wish I knew how to begin something like this—it's just something my therapist, Stacey, recommended (my Torchwood therapist, that is: Mum pushed me to get counseling after our… separation. Don't worry; I'm not going insane. I'm just coping). I had an appointment with the doctor yesterday. His name is Dr. John Howell, and he isn't like you at all. I haven't been feeling well since I arrived in the parallel universe, and I thought I had picked up some sort of bug when I crossed worlds. I'm not sure if that's even possible, but I learned to believe in the impossible when I started traveling with you. Dr. Howell told me I was fine, though, and to expect some nausea and other things for the next few weeks. It turns out there's nothing unnatural about me; it's just nature taking its course.

But I'm not fine, Doctor. In fact, I've probably never been farther.

I know you will never read this letter, but you need to at least know that I tried to tell you. Even if I never see you again, it helps to know that I attempted. I'm certain that others will understand as well, if they ever come across this, because never once did we stop trying to find each other. We kept fighting and fighting, but fate was bound and determined to keep us apart. And that's not the worse part.

I'm pregnant, Doctor, and fate's keeping me away from you.

I wasn't originally going to write a letter to you, but after Mum's prodding, Stacey's recommendations, and Dr. Howell's questions… I felt compelled to do something. There was just so much all at once, and I didn't know how to deal with it. The only thing I do know is that I wish you were here: if not for me, then for the baby.

You once told me that the curse of the Time Lords was that you had to live on while us humans withered away, dying right before your eyes. I know that's why you never talk about the other people you've traveled with because it's hard to look back, knowing that they're aging, changing, and dying (or six feet under already). It's also why I never told you how I really felt. If we did have a life together, I know how difficult it would have been for you, living with the knowledge that you'd lose me someday. If we had known that my time with you had been coming to an end, I would have acted sooner. I would have told you how much I loved you, and even though you'd eventually lose me, I would have made sure that we made the most of it. I would have given you everything I could before I fell victim to the march of time.

I would have made sure that we would have had this baby sooner just so you could be in its life.

It's not fair, Doctor! I want you here with me. Everything is just so confusing… I think I should mention that Dr. John Howell is a specialist at Torchwood, dealing with different alien species' physiology as well as alien medicine and diseases… I think. I don't quite understand what his exact field of study is, but when I talked to Pete about a possible alien bug, he told me to contact Dr. Howell.

I learned a lot during my appointment. I'm about six weeks along, and Dr. Howell told me that means that the baby has officially graduated from an embryo to a fetus in scientific terms. We won't be able to tell if it's a boy or girl yet, but I really don't care so long as it's healthy and happy. I can't help but wonder, Doctor, what you would have preferred? If you were here right now, would you want a baby girl or a baby boy?

If I looked inside, I'd be able to see the face forming. It's about the size of a bean too, at least if we're following a normal human pregnancy. That's another reason I need you here, Doctor, because you aren't human and I am, and I have no idea what our baby will be as part Time Lord, part Gallifreyan, and part human. Dr. Howell told me that our DNA shouldn't even be compatible, so this baby shouldn't exist. (That only sent Mum on a roll, asking me which human from the future had knocked me up). However, Dr. Howell told me that something's different about my DNA.

I once asked you what the difference between Time Lord and Gallifreyan was, and you said it had to do with prolonged exposure to the Time Vortex… some sort of mutation, right? You already carry that mutation in your DNA, and it turns out that I do too. When I looked into the heart of the TARDIS, I took in the Time Vortex, and, like you said, no one's meant to do that. Dr. Howell said that I could be a different species of human entirely if we wanted to be technical: some sort of human plus Time Lord. The thing is, though, I didn't have the Vortex in me long enough to become a Time Lord (or Lady, whatever you call it). Apparently, though, it affected me enough create this little miracle.

I'm not sure what it's going to be like. Is there much of a difference between a Gallifreyan pregnancy and a human one? What will the baby look like? Most likely, it'll have humanoid features, but can it do all the Time Lord things as well? Will it regenerate and live forever? Or will it have a fragile but happy human life? All I know for sure is that when Dr. Howell hooked me up for my ultrasound, and I heard the baby's heartbeat for the first time… Doctor, it was the most beautiful thing in the universe compared to anything you've ever shown me. The best part: the baby has two hearts.

I guess, in a way, you're no longer the last of the Time Lords. You've got whatever I turn out to be and our child. I'm just scared about what's going to happen now that you're gone, and I'm facing the unknown all alone.

It's like you said, "There's a lot of things you need to get across this universe. Warp drive… wormhole refractors… You know the thing you need most of all? You need a hand to hold." And, Doctor, I've never needed you more.

I guess for now it's just the five of us trapped here in this other universe: me, Mum, Pete, Mickey, and the baby—the family. I always wonder if I should include you in the mix because, while you may not be here, a part of you is, and I am forever grateful for that. I also wonder if I'll ever be able to tell anyone of how that came to be.

I don't know if I'll ever tell our child the story of how his or her parents met and traveled through the stars together, seeing marvelous civilizations and saving people. "The Stuff of Legend", you called us. It hurts to look back on the years we spent together, but it's too big a part of my life to ignore. It's just hard for me to face what could have been while I live in what happened. There's a lot that actually happened between us that I can't seem to grasp, and I'm stuck between what it meant and what it was. I doubt I'll be able to tell our future son or daughter everything because there's so much, but I want to get it all down on paper while the memories are still fresh in my mind.

Hopefully, someday, I'll gather up the courage to tell them the truth about you and me. How it all started with one word. When you and I first met, it was in a warehouse where animated plastic people were trying to kill me. You appeared out of nowhere in your leather jacket with your big ears and Northern accent, and you held out your hand to me, looked me straight in the eye, and whispered just one word: run.

We kept running for two whole years, and though that may not seem like much, when you are flying through the entirety of space and time, it seems like forever. After all, I promised you forever, Doctor, and while our forever only lasted seven hundred and thirty days, it was enough time for you to capture my heart, take me by a choke-hold, spin me around, and threw me sky-high. In the span of two years, Doctor, I have traveled with you, befriended you, nearly killed you, almost lost you, and wholly and completely loved you. In the span of two years, I have been your assistant, companion, friend, hand-to-hold, and almost lover (or whatever you want to call us after that night).

The way I see it is that we had been building up to that night for months, so it's surprising that it didn't happen sooner. But that's another story for another time. All I can honestly say is that if there is one thing that being with you has taught me, it's that love and loss are intertwined so tightly that you can't have one without the other. Even though I've lost you, I'm better off having loved you than to have spent a lifetime without you.

Please don't forget about me, Doctor,
Rose Tyler