One day, he snapped. The Doctor snapped.
He was condemning and rescuing the species all at the same time, and consequentially, it broke him. He held up the facade long enough to wrap up his mission with a bow, but then Rose closed the door to the TARDIS, and he walked to the console. Instead of performing his customary ballet jig of excitement and anticipation, he just looked at the ceiling, hands in his pant pockets. It was because if he looked anywhere else, he'd combust.
"Doctor..," Rose fiddled with her fingers and walked around the center to stand next to him. She looked nervously up at him. Taking a deep breath, she asked the expected question. "Are you okay?" A pause.
"I'm always," his voice shaking, broke a little, "okay, Rose."
He sighed and let it all wash over him. He didn't realize how fast one could drown in their emotions until he felt himself choking on misery. Images of the day's deaths vividly played across his vision, and he stumbled backwards to the console chairs. He inhaled sharply, in shock at what had been done, what he did, what he had prevented, all of it, as Rose quickly came to his side, supporting him by his elbow. The vision stopped; the pain remained.
The Doctor leaned heavily on the cushions of the chair, and turned to look at Rose, her face twisted in concern. He always knew he couldn't fix everything, but he never stopped trying. And she never left his side. With only bitterness and anxiety and suffering occupying his thoughts and mind, he instantly caught ahold of the beacon of hope Rose brought to him.
All in one moment, before either of them had time to think, the Doctor had both hands on Rose's waist, pulling her lips to his and pushing her back towards the console. He kissed her with all the strength he had left. She was the one now leaning heavily on the console. Soon enough, she began to sink into the rhythmic motion of his mouth, and she brought her arms over his shoulders, holding his steepled hair as if it was her only connection to reality. And in a way it was. Rose felt so confused, but all in all, the kiss permeated her mind and soul with a blank. Her thoughts were scrambled.
All too soon, the Doctor pulled away, breathing heavily and still leaning over Rose. He placed his forehead on hers and silently refused to open his eyes. Her eyes were glued shut, too.
"Rose..?" He whispered inquiringly.
"Is it okay... To not be okay?" His voice was still shaky, but not for the same reason. Now, he was searching for permission to be vulnerable.
Only seeing one response appropriate, Rose ran her hands through the Doctor's hair, and kissed him with all the strength *she* had left.
