The Doctor's mind was wandering, mentally cataloging whatever data he happened across on his trek into the small town up ahead, so it was little wonder that he missed the frantic blur of pink and yellow barreling in his direction before it was too late. The figure collided unpleasantly with his chest, a force that could have easily knocked the wind from him were he your average human with one heart and without the conveniences of a respiratory bypass system to keep him upright in the most hazardous of situations.
However, he didn't quite feel that 'hazardous' described the current predicament well at all. Shocking, mind boggling and every other word that would act as an appropriate synonym for unexpected would be more than adequate. Of course, at the rate in which these surprises were occurring, he was beginning to consider not being surprised any longer.
Next thing he knew, small fingers were digging into the material of his coat and grappling for some form of anchor and it startled him enough to do something about it, instead of standing there and gaping like a dead fish put out to market.
Hands that were otherwise caught inside the depth of his pockets were soon withdrawn, darting out and attempting to stabilize the reckless blond attached to his chest. It wasn't until he had her by the biceps and could disentangle the two of them enough to take a gander at the features hiding beneath the unruly mane of hair that he realized just who had stormed him.
“. . Rose?” he asked in a small voice, disbelief clear on his face, before sense took over and he was jerking her back even further, though hardly violent enough to cause damage, but sudden enough to leave the poor girl rattled. “Rose!” he all but shouted at her, the name becoming mangled on his tongue with the poorly contained excitement in which he used to say it in the first place. As unceremonious as before, he jerked her back, enveloping her in a suffocating embrace and tugging her this way and that with sheer, unapologetic joy.
At least, until the questions started niggling at his brain and all but destroyed the moment with violent curiosity and doubt. Without warning, he stopped, allowed her toes to touch ground again and shoved her back a few paces with firm hands clasped at her shoulders. His chin canted down and the fringe at his forehead flopped over his glasses when he leaned in to inspect her face with nothing less than determined scrutiny.
“But you can't be,” he murmured, voice grave. He glanced her over, took note of the subtle differences in her hair color and style of make up, perhaps another smile line or worry line if he peered hard enough at the corners of her eyes and mouth. But for all intents and purposes, she was the very same Rose he abandoned on Dårlig Ulv Stranden with his double not so very long ago.
“Rose Tyler is sealed away in another dimension, a parallel world that is now locked. Travel between universes isn't possible, at least it isn't anymore. And I should know—I put her there. I locked the door,” and no matter how stern he tried to come off, the bitter regret was still evident in his tone.