Call Him Johnny

CALL HIM JOHNNY

Call him Johnny:Chapter Two:Part 2

Worth Dying For

Disclaimer: Not mine; property of RTD, unfortunately

Author's Note: Part 2! All yours. I hope this goes down well. Rose isn't too cheery in Chapter 2, is she? I think she needs a Doctor... Ooh, I loved writing Rose's lines in this, especially the ones towards the end. Let me know what you think!

Rose raised a mascara-streaked hand to her temple, a dull pain throbbing behind her eyes. She definitely needed a drink of water, and perhaps something to eat. More than that though, she needed to see her mum; needed to see her baby brother. She picked up her bags and her dropped bunch of flowers and went to open the door, but once again, something inside her seemed to stop her, rather, she had the most bizarre tingling sensation behind her eyes and the enormous sense that someone was standing beside her in the empty corridor. Not really there of course, but she knew that if he was, he would be leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, grinning at her.

"Doctor?"

" Yep, that's my name."

Just like before, Rose could hear the Doctor's voice inside her head but it seemed clearer, less tinny. She felt a shiver prickle down her spine and again, felt him beside her. Yet he couldn't be…

" Not physically, no." he answered, as if hearing her thoughts. She couldn't help but notice that the lights in the corridor had dimmed ever so slightly and that it had become unbearably hot; her vision was swimming before her eyes.

" Then, how…?" she murmured, squeezing her eyes shut against the pain in her head, leaning against the cool wall in order to stay upright.

" Just…because I'm brilliant," he replied cockily. She could almost hear him smiling to himself in satisfaction.

" Yeah, you are," she admitted, nodding even though she couldn't see him, but then stopped because nodding hurt.

" So are you," he said seriously

Rose smiled at that, though not without a lot of effort; she was doing all she could not to faint. She had the strongest urge to give in to the shadows that were clouding her eyes, to give in to the darkness that threatened to overwhelm her but she didn't, she strained to hear the Doctor's voice, to keep a hold of it.

" Surprised?" she challenged him.

" Not at all," he said, proudly, his voice fierce and passionate, " though you do look like a panda, Rosie-Posie."

Rose couldn't help but flinch at the hated pet name he used to use whenever he wanted to annoy her.

" Shut up," she grinned, a high-pitched ringing filling her ears.

" Rose, listen to me," said the Doctor, urgently, " This connection won't last for long...we haven't got much time"

" Ohh, you and your daft time limits," said Rose sleepily, pressing her head against the wall, her bags and flowers slipping out of her weak arms.

" I know, I know but I need to know, Rose. Tell me you're ok. Tell me you're happy…still fighting?"

" I'd be happier if I still had you!" Rose whimpered sadly, not having enough energy to talk properly, tears welling up in her eyes.

" I know," said the Doctor softly, his voice full of emotion, sounding dangerously close to breaking. " Me too."

" Are you on your own?" Rose gasped, feeling her eyes roll to the back of her head. She needed to know, needed to know that he had someone; she couldn't bear to think of him on his own, like a lost child.

" No," said the Doctor thickly, sounding as if he had a cold, " I've got someone with me."

" Oooh!" remarked Rose, teasingly, " so you've replaced me, then?" She knew he hadn't, of course, she just wanted to tease him; just like old times. They'd always teased each other, over absolutely everything. Even when she'd said goodbye to him at the beach she'd teased him about working back at the shop and here she was again, teasing him.

" No!" said the Doctor quickly, his voice full of conviction, " Never, Rose. No one ever could."

" Never ever?" she quipped, remembering a walk down a London street at night in the middle of a celebration for the 2012 Olympics.

" Never ever," confirmed the Doctor, but his voice was beginning to sound more and more muffled, as if he were on a very bad phone line. Rose was starting to lose him, yet again.

" Rose," he began, uncertainly, " I know I should have but… I never did tell you, even when it was my last chance at the beach…"

" Ohh, shut up, you!" she interrupted him weakly, " I know, I know," she trailed off, smiling to herself. She did too; it occurred to her that she'd always known, deep down what he'd been about to say to her at the beach. She'd just been afraid to think it, afraid to hope that he actually might, return her feelings. The trouble with the Doctor though, was that he talked and talked, yet never really said anything. He'd shown her, many times that he loved her; whether it was just pulling her into his coat when she was cold or even just pushing her hair out of her face and gently tucking it behind her ear. She wanted him to say it, of course she did, but she didn't need him to say it.

" You know?" he repeated numbly, sounding relieved yet upset at the same time.

" Course I do," whispered Rose, her legs buckling underneath her, the Doctor's voice extremely faint, her head feeling like it was about to explode into a thousand tiny pieces. " How could I not?" she tittered, " You know who you are? Mr. Thick, thick, thickety thick face from Thicktown, Thickania!" she burbled, hysterically, echoing his own words that he'd said to a group of Clockwork Droids so, so long ago.

" I suppose I am, yes," chuckled the Doctor, " But Rose, I…"

" 'Dame' Rose," she corrected him. She was dimly aware that it was becoming difficult to breathe and that her words were slurred. This was the last ever time that she'd talk to him, she knew that; knew that she should be saying so many things; telling him everything she'd always promised herself she would if she ever got the chance to speak to him again, yet it was too difficult, she wanted the connection to break, wanted the darkness to take her, to fade into nothingness where she wouldn't be able to feel anything anymore.

" I-what?" asked the Doctor, confused

" I'm 'Dame' Rose and you're 'Sir' Doctor," she explained, wearily.

" Dame Rose and Sir Doctor," repeated the Doctor, amusedly, " Shiver and Shake!"

" Yeah," agreed Rose. It was such a pathetic, little word but she," couldn't think of anything else to say, " Shiver and Shake!"

A heavy silence fell between them. Of course, the corridor was silent anyway, and anyone who came down would most probably think that Rose was a raving lunatic, since it appeared that she was having a tearful conversation with thin air, but it was unusual for the Doctor to stay quiet for so long. Even if he was just a voice inside her head.

" Rose," he started quietly, his voice breaking, " I'm…"

" Don't," she said softly, allowing her knees to give way and sliding to the floor again. "Don't you dare start apologizing," she warned him, sounding so determined yet heartbroken at the same time, " Especially not to me."

Rose drew her knees up to her chest, pulling her skirt down over them like a little girl and buried her face in her arms, willing the dull pain that was seeping through her mind to go away, willing the Doctor to understand that she didn't regret anything.

" If you hadn't taken my hand and told me to run all those years ago I'd never have seen the universe," she finished for him, her voice muffled through her knees. " I'd never have met you and you…you, you're the best thing that ever happened to me. I wouldn't change anything," she promised him. That's when her resolve finally cracked and she burst into a torrent of noisy sobs.

" We were fairly brilliant weren't we?" agreed the Doctor, trying to laugh but Rose could tell that he was crying, just like her.

" Yeah, we were," she sniffed, tilting her head back and staring at the white ceiling, " The Stuff of Legend."

A powerful surge of pain, greater than any pain she'd ever felt before coursed through her head. It was if someone had drilled holes through her skull, poured corrosive acid through the holes and then set fire to it, she had the awful feeling that she was about to be sick and yet she couldn't make herself stand up; she could no longer feel her legs properly; they felt as if they were made of shattered glass. She couldn't prevent herself from crying out.

"Rose?" asked the Doctor, evidently worried " Rose, it's alright, I'm here."

" But you're not, though," she pointed out, desperately " You're not here and…"

Rose's head flopped down onto her shoulder, like a wooden puppet with cut strings.

" Doctor, my head…please make it stop," she begged him, her eyes wide and anguished.

" It hurts…Doctor, help me."

A curious sensation of weightlessness was beginning to drift over Rose's body, making her feel light and oddly relaxed, like nothing could ever hurt her; there was just the sound of the Doctor's voice…nothing more.

"Rose!"

The Doctor's frantic shout broke through the haziness and she felt her sense of awareness come creeping back to her; just enough for her to realise that she was currently sprawled on a hospital floor outside her mum's room, squashing her flowers, probably.

" Rose, I'm killing you…this connection is killing you. You're going to die if it doesn't break!" came the panicked, terrified voice of the Doctor, " Rose, let go…let me go Rose…break it."

Rose frowned. The Doctor was forever coming up with mad, ridiculous ideas, but breaking the connection? That was one of the stupidest things he'd ever said. Her dazed, confused state was making her feel fuzzy and argumentative.

" No, I don't want to," she said stubbornly, like an obstinate two-year old. " I want to stay and talk to you."

" Rose, you can't"

" Why not?" she argued, feeling like a rebellious teenager. All she knew was that she could hear the Doctor; he may not be physically there, but she could talk to him, and that was all that mattered; she'd missed him so much, she wasn't about to let him go again.

" Because it's going to kill you, Rose!"

" I don't care!" she slurred. " I've said goodbye to you once before, I can't do it again! Doctor, don't! Please don't make me!"

" Rose, I won't let you die."

" Why not?" she repeated, feeling that he was being tremendously unfair. She felt just as disgruntled as she had been when her mum had taken her shopping when she'd been about five, and she'd refused to buy her a pair of glittery pink jellies because they'd been too expensive.

" You've got a life here," he said sadly, " You've got your mum and Pete…even Mickey the not such an idiot."

Rose felt as if the Doctor was being deliberately stupid. She felt exasperated with him, even though her head was on the verge of splitting open.

" But I don't want a life without you!" she cried, tears and snot running over her cheeks and chin, " How many times have I told you that? You always send me away to 'keep me safe' whenever you need me the most and I've always come back to you! At Canary Wharf I left my family to go back to you, to help you because you're all I want! You! Just you!"

" This time, you can't come back to me, Rose. Believe me I wish you could," choked the Doctor, sounding distraught, " You've got to carry on without me."

Rose bit her lip; her blurred vision was getting even worse. She wanted to sleep so badly, wanted to stop thinking and just …give up.

" I don't think I can," she wept. " I've tried, Doctor, I've tried so hard; everything I've done in this parallel universe has been because of you I just…all I want is for you to be proud of me. That's all I want! But I can't do it anymore, I can't! I won't! I need you!"

" I am proud of you, Rose! I'm so proud of you, but I need you to do this for me, Rose, I need you to stay alive for me, please?"

" What for?" she grumbled. She'd never really noticed before how comfortable hospital floors were. Why did they even need beds when the floors were so soft and so warm? She curled up on the floor and attempted to go to sleep, but the Doctor was most insistent.

" Rose Marion Tyler! Don't you die like this! Break the connection; I won't be responsible for the death of another person I love!"

Rose opened her eyes blearily, her ears filled with a faint buzzing, like a radio tuned in-between stations. Had he really just said…?

" You just said you love me," she accused him, feeling somewhat disorientated.

" Oh, so you're listening to me now? Yes, yes I did; I just said I loved you! Ooh look, I've just said it again, now will you please just do as you're told?"

" You love me?" she repeated, another shot of white-hot pain flickering behind her eyelids, but she ignored it.

" Yes!" said the Doctor wildly, " Yes I do; I love you, alright? Which is why I can't let you die! Because, if I don't know that you're alive and well and safe, then I may as well just give up now!" he told her movingly, " It's because of you that I keep running around the universe like a headless chicken trying to save people."

" Why's the connection gonna kill me?" she asked, tripping over her words because her tongue felt too big and heavy in her mouth. " I want to keep it; I want to keep talking to you!"

" The connection's a tremulous telepathic one, but it's putting too much pressure on your mind; your brain's beginning to swell and it's going to explode! Do this for me, Rose; let me go. I'm not worth dying for."

" Yes you are," mumbled Rose. The darkness was gathering around her eyes and there was something moving behind it, slowly advancing upon her.

" There's something coming for me, Doctor," she whimpered, sounding like a terrified child, "There's something in the darkness!"

" Then run away from it!" he urged her, " run or hop or skip or jump or…cartwheel. Just get away from it!"

" Ok," she answered, trembling, the feeling of sheer terror immobilised her.

Vivid images and memories began to flash disjointedly across her mind's eye. She recognised her first day at primary school in a too-big blue jumper and freshly shined school shoes, saw pictures of herself playing around her estate as a child, saw herself with Mickey as a young teenager, relived an old memory of her and her mum sitting slobbing around on the settee eating ice cream, watching Eastenders, saw a group of shop window dummies approaching her, then remembered the feeling of a strange man's hand around hers, telling her to run, saw her memory of her first trip in the TARDIS, of the Earth exploding, saw Gwyneth, the servant girl who had saved the world…remembered meeting Captain Jack Harkness, remembered dancing with the Doctor, seeing the Daleks, seeing the Doctor explode in front of her to be replaced by a tall, thin dark-haired man. She remembered the feeling of the Doctor grabbing her around the waist and running with her from a snarling werewolf, remembered the way her eyes had burnt and her chest had ached as she'd watched the Doctor being lowered out of the space station on Sanctuary Base 5, and then tried to squeeze her eyes shut as she was forced to watch freshest, worst memories be replayed in front of her again. She saw a gold lever, remembered it's coolness as she'd clung on to it, her hands sweaty, causing her grip to slip, remembered the ferocious wind that had ruffled her hair as the void had opened and billions of Daleks had hurtled to their destruction, remembered looking up into the Doctor's scared, fearful eyes as she'd let go of the lever, remembered the terrible, death scream that had sent shivers up her spine until she realised that the tortured, awful sound was coming from her, remembered the Doctor screaming her name in despair as she fell…

The first thing she was aware of, was that the floor was extremely clean, cool and very hard; white flecked with bits of blue. The second thing she was aware of was that she had her face pressed into a bunch of damp, crushed roses; their strong perfume was making her head spin and she had a horrible metallic taste in her mouth, which had trickled warmly down her chin and over her chest. She registered the red, glutinous liquid on her hands but didn't understand how it could be her own blood. She felt very warm and fuzzy and couldn't really be bothered to think; she was simply content to lie here, letting her mind drift. She'd just been talking to the Doctor…he'd told her to cartwheel away from something and so she had. Was that how she'd ended up on the floor? Had she fallen over after doing a cartwheel? Ooh, she'd never hear the end of this from the Doctor; he'd laugh himself silly. Actually, thinking of the Doctor, where on earth was he? She had a bone to pick with him; he'd called her 'Rosie-Posie', and she distinctly remembered that the last time he'd called her that, she'd promised that she would chase him round the TARDIS with a pear and make it him sit down and eat it if he ever called her that again. Maybe she'd have a pear in her handbag?

She was dimly aware of a pair of shiny black men's shoes skidding into her peripheral view, and a deep man's voice shouting for a nurse. Now, that was very odd, she thought, because the Doctor didn't wear shiny black shoes; he wore converse. White converse normally, so why did she have a vague memory of him in red converse? Also, why would anyone be shouting for a nurse, for goodness sake? He was called the Doctor; not the Nurse. Imagine them introducing themselves as Rose and the Nurse! It was laughable, it really was, but then again, the entire world was mad. Bananas, it was all bananas, she cackled to herself. But then again, bananas were a very good source of potassium; the Doctor had told her that…he'd also told her to always take a banana to a party, hadn't he?

" Rose?" said a familiar sounding, panicked male voice from near her ear. She caught a whiff of minty chewing-gum as the man bent over her, which was all very well and good, she mused, but she very much wanted the Mint Man to speak a little quieter because he was making far too much noise and it was making her ears hurt. Her whole head hurt; it felt like she had been walloped over the head with a sledgehammer, and she distantly remembered the Doctor saying that he was killing her, but then, why would the Doctor want to do that? Perhaps she had upset him. She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids seemed to be weighted down with lead and it just seemed like too much of an effort so she kept them closed.

A vaguely familiar efficient female voice was asking her a question. What was she saying?

" Can you tell me your name, sweetheart?"

Sweetheart? Who was she calling 'sweetheart'? Of course she could tell the woman her name; she wasn't stupid.

" Rose Tyler," she mumbled incoherently. " Dame Rose Tyler actually because we've met Queen Victoria and she made me a Dame and him a Knight," she waved a vague hand what she hoped was the Doctor's direction because she still couldn't be bothered to open her eyes and see for herself. " But the Doctor calls me Rosie-Posie sometimes 'cause we're Shiver and Shake, you know? I dunno if I'm Shiver or Shake to be quite honest but there you are; we're Shiver and Shake. Stuff of legend," she rambled.

" She's completely out of it," said a third voice, bluntly. Rose tried not to take offence at that because in actual fact she was neither in nor out of anything; she was just very tired and wanted to stay asleep. Never mind though, the Doctor would probably put this rude person in their place…he was after all extremely rude himself. Where was he, anyway? She couldn't hear him anywhere.

" Doctor?" Rose moaned; her brow furrowed.

" Yes, I'm Dr. Martha Jones," said the female voice that had asked for her name. Daft woman.

" Doctor?" echoed Rose, completely nonplussed, " Doctor Who?"

" Dr. Jones," repeated the Martha patiently, " We were in the lift together just before?"

" The lifts?" said Rose, " Ohhh, the lifts with the disinfectant, you mean? They were awful."

" Yeah, those lifts," said Martha, choosing to humour her.

" Right," said Rose unsurely, attempting to sit up, but a strong hand forced her back down. From what she could tell, she was lying spread-eagled on the floor with three people kneeling around her, though she only recognised two out of the three voices; a male and a female's.

" Where's the Doctor?" asked Rose, beginning to feel a little worried that she hadn't heard anything from him and he never normally shut up. She tried to open her eyes, but again, found that she couldn't be bothered and so made do with keeping them closed. " Is he alright?"

" I'm Dr. Martha Jones…" began the woman again, sounding to Rose at least, like a bit of a one track record. She'd heard her perfectly well the first time, thank you very much.

" Yeah, yeah, you're Dr. Jones, I got that…ooh," paused Rose feeling a song on the tip of her tongue, " Dr Jones, Jones, calling Dr. Jones" sang Rose giggling, " That's brilliant! Do you get that all the time?"

" Not as much as you might think," answered Martha, steadily.

" Right then, where's the Doctor?" asked Rose again. She hoped he was all right and hadn't wandered off again. The last time he'd went off without her she'd had to rescue him from an old woman who had been laying into him with her shopping bag…she didn't want to have to do that again.

" The Doctor," repeated the familiar, male voice from her right-hand side, (Mint Man, by the sounds of it) sounding cautious. "What about him?" he asked carefully.

" Where. Is. He?" Rose demanded, annunciating clearly. Honestly, what was wrong with these people? If she'd been in any fit state she'd be sorely tempted to give them a sharp prod.

" You lost him, Rose," said the man quietly, his voice low and soothing. " Remember? You lost him months ago at the Battle of Canary Wharf when you got trapped here?"

Rose listened to the man without really hearing what he was saying.

" Battle of what?" she said dismissively. " The Doctor doesn't like canaries," she burbled on, " 'cause one made a mess of his coat. What's this about me losing him? He hasn't got himself arrested again, has he?"

She'd lost count of the number of times she and the Doctor had got separated. She'd even suggested that he wear a cowbell around his neck, not really intending for him to take her seriously, but he had. For a week he'd trundled around the TARDIS, ringing all over the place. She'd had to confiscate it from him when he'd begun to 'moo' at her.

"Rose," said the man, gently, " You're dazed and confused; you've had a bit of a fit, by the looks of it…nearly gave me a heart attack, but it's alright; Dr. Jones, here is going to look after you alright? Maybe she can tell us what's happened."

Beaming, even with her eyes closed, Rose had stopped listening at 'dazed and confused.'

" That's what the Doctor said to Queen Victoria's Royal Guard when we went to 1879!" she remembered, triumphantly. " He said he was dazed and confused because he'd been chasing me over hill and over dale, to account for him not knowing that we were in Scotland!

" What she keep babbling on about Queen Victoria for?" asked the third voice suspiciously, the one who had said that she was 'out of it.' " Seriously, she's not from the closed ward is she?"

"No, she's Torchwood," put in Martha Jones, helpfully…

"Torchwood…she's from Torchwood."

" What do you think, Miss Tyler?"

" You get wet in the rain, love?"

" You look like a panda, Rosie-Posie"

Instantly, Rose's confusion seemed to evaporate; her recollection of her conversation with the Doctor came flooding back and she remembered how she'd ended up on the floor and what she'd been doing in a hospital in the first place.

Her head throbbing, she tried to pull herself up into a sitting position; she had to tell Pete, she had to see if the connection was still working, but unsurprisingly she got forced back down yet again.

" Doctor?" she said desperately, opening her eyes to see that the world was upside down and her vision was grey and out of focus.

The Doctor did not reply.

" Doctor?" she bleated, more insistently this time, " Doctor, are you there?" She'd said those words once before. Over and over again into an intercom for the best part of an hour on Sanctuary Base 5 after she'd lost contact with him and she honestly and truly thought that she had really lost him forever. She'd been terrified out of her mind, she'd wanted to sit down and howl but she'd somehow managed to keep herself together, keep herself under control for his sake. Of course, he'd found a way back to her after a while; he hadn't really been lost forever, not like now. She remembered how tightly he had hugged her when she walked back into the TARDIS; how fiercely he'd clung on to her, how he'd not been quite able to hide the moisture in his eyes from her. That night neither of them had wanted to go their separate ways and go to sleep, so instead they'd squeezed in together in the Doctor's narrow bed, snuggled up close and comforted each other after too much of a close escape, not daring to close their eyes. Of course, after that, Rose never did venture back into her own room at night; there'd been an unsaid, unacknowledged understanding that from then on they were going to share the same room. Share, nothing else! Barely two months later though, the Doctor was sleeping on his own again and Rose was trapped in a parallel world.

" Who's this Doctor, person she keeps mentioning?" came a rough, impatient voice.

" No one," muttered a familiar male voice, " Leave it."

"Pete!" exclaimed Rose, recognising his voice and grabbing him by his suit jacket to wrench herself up. She'd sat up too soon, though and discovered that her headache and dizziness had not completely dissipated and she fell heavily against Pete.

" You alright?" asked Pete concernedly, cradling her as if she were made out of fine bone china, noticing that she had buried her face in his shoulder. Her felt her shake her head against him and held her close, scowling at the displeased looks on the doctors' faces.

" Mr. Tyler, I really think we should get her to a bed and get her seen to," cajoled Martha, gently.

" I'm giving my daughter a hug, alright?" he said sharply, " Last time I looked there were no laws against it and I reckon she might need me for a moment rather than be treated like a nut case."

He directed this last bit at the second doctor; a thin, wiry man who looked to be in his mid to late twenties.

" I'm not going mad," came Rose's muffled voice, as she spoke into Pete's shoulder. She pulled away from Pete enough to be able to look him in the eyes; eyes so very much like her own.

"He was here, I spoke to him," she said lowly, staring into her dad's inky black pupils, desperately.

" Who was?" asked Pete, uneasily. He had an awful feeling that he was not going to like Rose's response.

" The Doctor," said Rose simply, proving Pete to be right.

" Which doctor?" asked Martha, frowning, looking confused. " There are no male doctors on this ward."

" The Doctor," Rose repeated, ignoring Martha and appealing at Pete, who had gone very pale. " He managed to form some sort of connection and get in touch; I spoke to him."

" He was here?" asked Pete, swallowing, struggling to comprehend what Rose was saying.

Rose closed her eyes. She knew how foolish she was going to sound; knew that Martha and the other doctor would think she was a crackpot, but maybe Pete might believe her. After all, he had seen the Doctor, he had met him; he knew what he was capable of.

" Well no, not physically; in my head…" she began as Martha pursed her lips and the other doctor gave a derisive laugh.

" Bloody schizophrenic," he said snidely, under his breath.

Even Pete looked unconvinced.

" Rose, you're not well," he started, rubbing her shoulder, " maybe it's best not to get your hopes built up just yet, eh?"

Rose grabbed Pete's shoulders uncoordinatedly, resisting the urge to shake him, her head still spinning.

" He's telepathic, dad," she said explained forcefully, " He could have used psychic energy to create a temporal bond."

" I can't believe I'm hearing this," said the male doctor flatly, getting to his feet and retreating to the nearest ward.

Martha however, stayed where she was, looking from Rose to Pete with an unreadable expression on her face.

" Look," Rose carried on, holding onto Pete for support as she reached for her discarded handbag with her free hand. Rummaging through it, she drew out a sensitive-looking probe, which she waved about for a bit before showing Pete the results on the monitor.

" See!" she pointed out, triumphantly, " The air here is dripping with residual psychic energy. No wonder the lights went dim!"

" The lights did go dim for a while," admitted Martha, looking up at the strip lights on the ceiling, " But we thought that it was just because of the storm."

" The Oncoming Storm," whispered Rose to herself, smiling into her words.

Her head was not as bad as it had been when the Doctor was talking to her; that had been agonizing, the worst pain she'd ever encountered, but she'd stubbornly held on because it had been worth it just to hear the Doctor's voice. She'd felt so safe with him talking to her, even if it was through telepathy; she'd felt happy and complete again. That was why she'd refused to break the connection; she never wanted to stop listening. Never. She didn't think she would've known how to break it anyway, not when she didn't know how he'd forged it in the first place. So how had it broken? Why couldn't she hear him anymore?

" Pete, he was here," she told him earnestly, gripping his hands, " He…he called me 'Rosie-Posie."

" He called you 'Rosie-Posie'," repeated Pete, looking at her as if she'd just told him that he'd called her Santa Claus.

" Yes!" Rose stressed, clenching her fists, " He was here, Pete, you have to believe me!"

Pete looked at her for one long moment, his brown eyes boring into hers; she felt like he could see right through her, his eyes flickering over her tear, blood and make-up streaked face, at her messy hair, crinkled suit and shaking hands.

" Ohh, don't worry, Rose," he said quietly, taking one of her hands in his tightly and with the other, feeling for his mobile in his suit pocket, " I believe you."

With all the efficiency that had made him such a successful businessman, he pulled out his mobile and triggered a one-word alert to his staff. Rose herself felt her bag vibrate beside her as the message was delivered to her own mobile. She'd forgotten that you were supposed to turn your phone off before entering the hospital.

Martha Jones, who was still kneeling beside her worriedly, sent a disapproving look in Pete's direction.

" You shouldn't be using your mobile in here, Mr. Tyler," she reprimanded him

" I can if I'm calling in Torchwood," he said, sagely.

Rose gave a wan smile; the Doctor was always just as self-righteous. Perhaps even more so. There was this one time when he'd marched into a Royal wedding of some English princess in the late 22nd century with his hands shoved into his pockets, cool as you please and demanded that the wedding be stopped because the bride groom was a…

" Rose?" came Pete's voice, interrupting her from her thoughts. " Rose? What exactly did the Doctor say?"

Rose stared at him, groggily. What had he said? What did it matter what he'd said? The important thing was that he'd spoken to her…

Thick, white fog seemed to cloud her mind like cotton wool and to her horror; she found that she didn't know what he had said to her. He'd definitely spoken to her; that was one thing she was sure of. But, what about?

Jumbled images raced across her mind's eye that she couldn't separate. So often she'd dreamed about finally meeting the Doctor again that she could not sort out in her head what was real and what was simply wishful thinking. He'd definitely said that she looked like a panda, and he'd definitely called her 'Rosie-Posie' and told her that the connection was a 'tremulous telepathic' one and that it was killing her…what else had he said?

She felt like screaming in frustration because she couldn't remember, and it should have been one of the most memorable conversations of her life. Why couldn't she remember?

"Rose?" prompted Pete, gently.

" He said I looked like a panda," she said shakily, looking up at Pete through tear-glazed eyes.

Pete made a well-he's-got-a-point-there sort of face and nodded, urging her to carry on.

"He called me Rosie-Posie," she said again, in a small voice, looking deathly pale and deeply shaken.

" You've already said that," Pete reminded her softly, cupping a warm hand around her black-streaked face. " Did he say anything else?"

Rose tried to think, she really did, but her head felt like it had been stuffed with wool, and it seemed like Pete was so far away, like he was speaking to her from the other end of the corridor. His voice was so very faint and distant; she could barely concentrate on what he was asking her. She wanted to go to sleep, right here on this soft, comfortable floor. Why could no one understand that? The Doctor would have. The Doctor always understood…

" No," said Rose weakly, her eyelids beginning to droop and her grip on Pete's hand slackening.

" He didn't ask how you were, tell you anything else?" urged Pete

Rose shook her head, wondering why Pete was wanting to make such a big fuss about it. Such a worrier, Pete was; just like the Doctor. But why worry when the floor was so nice and comfy? Floors were good. Floors were brilliant, even. Would she be able to take this floor to a party, like the Doctor took the banana? She hoped so.

" No," he didn't say anything else," slurred Rose, tiredly.

With that, she keeled over sideways into a hapless Martha and fainted, allowing the darkness to take her once more.

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