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Rose Tyler gasped, the world blurring into a kaleidoscope of garish colours. Pain, sharp and searing, ripped through her side. She saw the Doctor's face swim into focus, his usually bright eyes wide with a raw, unfamiliar panic.
"Rose! Rose, stay with me! You're going to be okay, you have to be okay!" His voice was fractured, a jagged edge slicing through his usual confident tone.
"Hurts," she managed, a shaky smile trembling on her lips. Blood bloomed, staining her clothes crimson.
"I know, I know," he choked out, scooping her up in his arms. He was a blur of motion, a desperate whirlwind propelling him towards the TARDIS, now a beacon of hope in her fading vision.
He burst through the doors, the familiar hum of the ship a discordant symphony against the silence screaming in her ears. He didn't even glance at the console, just sprinted towards the med bay, blood trailing a macabre path behind them.
He laid her on the sterile surface of the medical bed, his hands a frantic blur as he attached monitors, desperately trying to stem the bleeding. Her skin was already pale, her breath shallow and ragged.
"Doctor..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.
His eyes, glistening with unshed tears, locked on hers. "Rose..."
"It's... okay," she breathed, her gaze softening.
He refused to accept it. "No, no, it's not okay!" The Doctors voice cracked, echoing in the sterile, fluorescent-lit room. "You're not going to..." His words dissolved into a choked sob, the unspoken "die," a forbidden sentence he couldn't bear to utter. He clutched Rose’s hand, her skin already losing its warmth, the chill a terrifying harbinger.
"I'm going to save you, Rose," he rasped, his voice thick with desperation. He leaned closer, his gaze fixed on her pale face. "We still have our forever. You can't die."
Rose's eyes, once vibrant with life, were now clouded with a weary acceptance. She watched him, a flicker of something akin to understanding in their depths. Silence stretched, broken only by the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor, a macabre countdown.
Then, nothing.
The flatline shrieked, a brutal, unwavering line against the screen. The Doctors world fractured. He stood frozen for a moment, the shock momentarily silencing the cacophony of alarms ringing in his ears.
“No!” He bellowed before slapping the button to charge the paddles. “ I am not letting you go.”
He slammed the paddles onto her chest, the jolt momentarily arching her body. Silence. Again.
He tried again. He felt tears run down his face. No reaction. The flatline held. Rose was gone.
He collapsed beside her bed, his shoulders shaking with the force of his grief. "Rose," he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears. "My Rose." He cradled her cold hand in his, the memory of its warmth a burning brand in his mind.
His gaze swept across her face. Then closed his eyes, picturing her radiant face, and a single tear escaped, tracing a lonely path down his cheek. The universe had stolen his rose, leaving him with nothing but thorns.
Then, a flicker. A faint, rhythmic pulse. The monitor beeped, a hesitant, fragile rhythm that grew stronger. Rose's skin began to glow, a brilliant, ethereal gold. The Doctor stumbled back, understanding dawning in his tear-streaked eyes.
Regeneration.
He hadn't believed it possible, but here it was, unfolding before him. The light intensified, blinding, accompanied by a searing scream ripped from Rose's very soul.
Slowly the regeneration light subsided, leaving the medical bay awash in a soft, golden glow. The Doctor, still reeling from the imminent loss he'd faced moments before, stared. Tears still clung to his eyelashes, blurring his vision, but he couldn't mistake what he was seeing. Rose laying on the bio-bed, breathing steadily, alive.
Her features had shifted, rearranged into delicate angles. Gone was the familiar blonde hair, replaced by a cascade of vibrant ginger, catching the light like spun fire. Her lips, always soft, were now fuller, more defined. He exhaled shakily when he heard the sound of twin heartbeats hammering from the monitor.
He tentatively reached out, smoothing a stray strand of ginger hair from her forehead. Her eyes fluttered open, the same warm, hazel brown he knew so well.
"Hi," she whispered, her voice huskier, more breathy.
He swallowed, unable to speak. Relief washed over him, so potent it almost brought him to his knees. "Rose?" he managed, his voice thick with emotion
His hand slid forward and cupped her face, his thumb gently caressing her cheek. He kissed her then, a desperate, passionate kiss fueled by relief and love, tears streaming down his face.
She returned the kiss with equal fervor, clinging to him as if he were the only anchor in a swirling, chaotic universe. When he finally pulled back, he buried his face in her hair, whispering, "You're alive, you're alive, you're alive..."
She hugged him back, confusion warring with relief in her eyes. "I'm alive," she echoed. "What happened?"
He explained, his voice choked with emotion, about the shooting, the flatline, the regeneration. Words tumbled out, a desperate cascade of explanations he barely understood himself. He spoke of Bad Wolf, a desperate hope clinging to his words. He promised tests, explanations, but for now, all he wanted was to hold her.
She pressed a soft kiss to his hair, her fingers tightening against the back of his neck.
“I love you,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion.
He closed his eyes, savoring the moment, the feeling of her nearness. He pulled her closer, burying his face in her neck. “I love you,” he replied, holding her tighter, the weight of his love a universe unto itself, a universe reborn with her return. He didn't know what the future held, what the regeneration meant, but for now, in this moment, that didn't matter. Rose was alive, and that was all that mattered. That was everything.