No. No, he refuses to talk. He won't do it.

This isn't his Rose and he doesn't care whose it is, because his Rose is dead trying to help. This Rose is, is. Well, she's tarty. She's not her.

"Don't get excited. They fob it all up in the end."

Damn it, she's good.

"Course they do. Never cared much for futbol. Always Mickey's thing."

That's the problem really. She is his Rose. Absolutely and entirely. They'd have an easier time of it if she weren't.

Well, she's had a bit more time with him.

He huffs. "Stop it."

Throwing a hissy fit is not something he's above. The Doctor moves away from the console and down the steps to root around in some little trap storage unit. He gives a satisfied sound and pulls out something that looks like a cross between a power drill and a wine bottle opener.

Then he starts back toward the console, and Rose.

She watches him entirely amused. She'd be more concerned about his plan working if the TARDIS weren't in on this.

"Bottle of wine? Guess we ought to celebrate me being back and all. Hasn't been time really with you being grumpy."

He crouches down next to her; refusing to look at her, and with both the new device and his sonic screwdriver in hand. The buzzing doesn't quite drown his huff of frustration.

"I said stop it. You're not her." The readings only serve to make him angrier. "So just stop!"

It's the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes that breaks her heart more than the words. Words don't matter much with the Doctor. They never have. She twists around until she can face him a bit then she takes the sonic out of his hand and puts it down on the grating before she threads her fingers with his.

"I'm always her. Just like you're always him."

He won't make eyecontact, he just won't do it. She's touching him, and she's supposed to be dead. No, she is dead. And yet this Rose refuses to acknowledge that something is terribly wrong here. And he doesn't like what she's saying, not one bit.

The Doctor throws her hand down, away, and scrambles to back away from her, scowling. "No! You're not, she's dead! She's dead because I killed her because I failed. Again. And you-- she just-- gone. She's gone and you're just an insult."

But he can't walk away, he can't let her out of his sight.

She can't help the hurt look on her face when he pulls away from her. She tries to hide it though, tilting her chin up a bit and putting on some bravado she doesn't feel.

"You didn't fail in my time line. You saved me. You always saved me. It's me. Just different sort of me."

She forces a smile and after a moment it's a bit more genuine. "Least you got the version of me that's not a yappy dog."

Well, great. Now he's done gone and made her cry?

No. No. She's not her, she doesn't deserve his pity. He will not replace his Rose with some deformed version of her. Just looking at her hurts, the timeline all out of sync and chaotic.

He turns away, rubbing the back of his head in an attempt to ignore her. Reassuring himself that he can get through this. It would be easy to accept her, pretend like he didn't mess up.

"It's not fair."

She bows her head and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth.

"No. It's not. We both lost each other. Shouldn't have happened."

Her brow furrows because she knows she's not supposed to tell him things that happen in his future but then it's not his future anymore. "I told you once that I'd stay with you forever. Promised. I keep my promises to you. Always will. Ripped holes through dimensions and time lines to keep that promise to you."

He can't help it. The Doctor softens a little, turning back to her; it's exactly what she's do. She's not giving up and he admires that so much about her, always has. He's silent for awhile, minutes building up.

"You don't get it. When I look at you, I just see...wrong."

Maybe if he keeps saying it to her. If he ignores everything inside him that wants to take comfort in her being here, she'll go away. Back to her home with her Doctor. Leave him here with his consequences.

But he's still not leaving.

"I can sorta understand that. You regenerated while we travelin'. You were tall and lanky. Had really great hair." She tucks her hair behind one ear. "I hated you at first. When I looked at you...you were wrong. You were s'posed to look--took me a little while and almost losin' you to realize that---you're still my Doctor. It doesn't matter what time line, what regeneration. You're still him and I'm still her."

She stops a minute because she realizes he sees her as wrong on an entirely different level. "I get that that's not the sorta wrong you see in me. Has to do with the same way you see the Earth moving and everything that could be; everything that will be. I'm still me. I just...don't fit with the patterns anymore. Never was one for fittin' in though."

He starts to protest before she clarifies. She's not supposed to understand that, and it makes him angry that she does. He's looking at her, not as Rose, but as an anomaly to be studied. The Doctor crouches down in front of her, not too close, and only far enough so she can't pull that hand-holding rubbish again.

"You shouldn't know all of that." He knows that he's just throwing a tantrum, but he's damn good at tantrums. "Imposter."

"You're from before the dalaks then. Or maybe that's where you lost me."

She recognizes the way he's looking at her and she's trying not to let it bother her. "You sent me home so that I would be okay. Me and the TARDIS. I couldn't leave you alone though. To die without anyone...I pried the console open, got to the heart of TARDIS and looked into it. I took it all inside of me and I could see everything, be everything but it was killing me. That's why you had to regenerate. You took the time vortex out of me. So that I would live."

She takes a deep breath. "Seen the Bad Wolf yet? That was me, with the time vortex in me. I traveled all over the time line, all over the universe making sure to leave signs to lead me there. To make sure I'd be able to get back to you."

He slams his hand on the grating below them, to shut her up. That's not how it happened. It didn't work and she just-- was gone.

"No, that's enough."

She keeps going and he is just done with it. "I said enough! You. Died. You took the vortex and and you killed the daleks and then it killed you. Too much for you, you idiot girl. Stupid blathering idiot!"

His head smacks back on the railing when he looks away from her, and he curses. Why is this happening to him?

She steels herself against flinching when he slams his hand down on the grating. He would never hurt her. She knows this but he's not looking at her like her right now.

"I would have forgiven you. For not kissing me. For not saving me. It wouldn't have mattered. I saved you. That's the important bit."

She looks up at him. "You kissed me. You saved me and then you regenerated. And you saved me over and over again. Never let me down. Never disappointed me."

Until he'd left her on a beach with a man who could never be anything more than a poor imitation. She won't go there. Not yet.

"Look in my head. If you think I'm lying, take a look."

The look on his face is-- contempt. She was the important one, he knew that as soon as she did the stupid thing and tried to save everyone. And now she's telling him it's okay that he failed? His disgust for himself cannot be contained.

"The only thing that matters is that I failed. And you, here -- your rubbish timeline and backwards memories, they're just. Proof. That I failed again."

She squeezes her eyes shut. He's not that far along. She forgets that. He's her Doctor but he's not the Doctor she put so much work into. She's going to have to put her foot down.

"All right. Got it in one. You failed. You can accept that. I didn't. Jumped 'round in time 'til I found you 'cause I wouldn't. You failed. And now you got a second chance. M'not going anywhere. TARDIS won't let me." She tugs on the handcuffs that are more a part of the TARDIS console than anything.

"Oi!" And she's back, tricking him again. He's really not expecting that, with the way this encounter's been going and now he's scowling at her, indignant.

"Isn't like I didn't try! And where do you get off all high and mighty-- you didn't fail, hmm? You found the wrong Doctor, Rose. Yeah, you did a right bang up job!"

Okay, so now he's less angst and more petty bickering, without even realizing what she's doing.

It's an improvement and she'll take it.

"No such thing as the wrong Doctor. They're all mine. It doesn't matter what time line, what regeneration. You're still you. Sorta what counts."

Ha. Take that.

"Sorta was hopin' I'd find an earlier regeneration. Or a later one. That'd be fun. Seein' who you become."

A scowl, again -- no, more of a pout. He wasn't supposed to let her get the upper hand. How does she do that!?

"Rest of them were bloody moronic. You're at the best one." Wait, he's agreeing. "...Even if it's the wrong one."

She grins at him, the tip of her tongue between her teeth.

"Maybe I've just got good taste. Rather have fun and be wrong."