He walked silently down the hall, the cold metal grate of the floor stinging his bare feet. It was late for a human, after three in the morning. As he neared her doorway, he began to regret his decision. He told his body to turn around, to go busy himself in the control room or his study, but it would not listen. His legs just kept moving toward her room.
He paused at her door, surprised to see a dim light shining through the crack at the bottom. He could also hear soft music playing within. He leaned against the wall and listened hard, trying to hear the quiet words.
I look to the sea, reflections in the waves spark my memory. Some happy some sad. I think of childhood friends and the dreams we had. We live happily together, so the story goes. But somehow we missed out on that pot of gold.
Listening to the haunting words should have been enough to make him turn around, but his current mood wouldn't allow it. He took a deep breath and knocked firmly.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
He heard something fall to the floor, followed by a quick expletive, then the door opened. Rose stood before him in a pair of nondescript black sweatpants and a snug t-shirt, her hair plaited and out of her face. He mustered up the best smile he could.
"Hello, Rose."
"Doctor? What's wrong?" She bit her lip and searched his face for some kind of answer, as if he wasn't speaking quickly enough.
"Why's something got to be wrong?" He forced a small laugh.
"Well," she began, thrown a little, "usually when your housemate bangs on your door this late at night, something's wrong."
He simply shook his head and kept his smile in place. She moved to the side and he entered her room. Her bed was still made, though there was an imprint from where she had been stretched out before he disturbed her. A pile of clean but unfolded laundry sat waiting for her attention. A small speaker in her wall was the source of the music he had heard drifting into the hall.
"D'you wanna sit, Doctor?" She motioned to an armchair next to her bed.
He did so and tried his best to relax, but she saw through him. She always saw through him. She grabbed a few pieces of clothing from the pile, then sat down on the bed facing him.
"Out with it. What's got you going? Are you okay?" She asked this without eye contact as she folded her clothes, knowing that he would never tell her anything if she looked at him. He had a serious deer-in-headlights problem when it came to emotions.
He opened his mouth, cleared his throat, then closed it again. After a few moments he finally spoke.
"I don't need much sleep. A night or so a week suits me fine."
She hummed an acknowledgement and he continued.
"See, the thing is, I can't fall asleep. So," he laughed awkwardly, "I noticed you were awake and thought maybe you could use some company."
She looked up then, studying his face. She saw the dark circles under his eyes, the way he squinted every few moments, and the near constant grinding of his teeth.
"How long have you been awake, Doctor?" She asked softly, kindly.
"Oh, not too long. A few weeks, maybe." He again flashed her the fake grin.
She stood up quickly, then, and began clearing off her bed.
"What're you doing, Rose?"
She straightened and shot him a stern look. "I am making you go to sleep."
He stood up quickly and slowly, and he hoped subtly, backed toward the door. "Ah, that's quite nice of you, but I'm fine. I have my own room, thanks."
This time, the look was a full on glare. "Oh? How much sleep have you gotten in said room?"
He had no response for her. Instead, he just looked at the floor, feeling slightly ashamed.
She moved about the room, turning off the overhead light and turning on a small desk lamp next to the bed.
"Do you sleep in your robe, Doctor?" She startled him and he looked down. He was, in fact, dressed in his robe and pajama bottoms. When did he change his clothes? He hardly remembered falling asleep. The nightmares always threw his mind off balance.
"N-no." He stammered.
"Off with the robe, then." She motioned toward the bed and he slowly realized that he was not going to be getting out of his current situation. He bashfully slipped off his robe, laid it on her armchair, and slid into her bed. She gave him her famous grin and climbed into bed next to him.
He lay there, stiff as a board, afraid to move. She propped herself up on her elbow and looked at him, a great deal of concern on her face.
"Please. Talk to me. Let me help you." She shocked him then, by stroking his hair softly for a moment.
He was a bit speechless, then, too ashamed to answer her while she could see his face. It was as if she could sense this and she leaned over to flick off the lamp.
He gathered his thoughts and began to speak.
"I know I've told you of Gallifrey, of the Time War." He saw her head bob in agreement. "I've told you of what I had to do. I've seen things, heard things no one should ever see or hear, Rose. It tears me apart. Every night, every day. Everyone I meet, I just wonder how long it will be until they're dead because of me as well. Especially those I truly care about. It eats me up inside. I never get relief. I see the faces of the dead, hear their angry voices cursing me every time I close my eyes. I dream of them every time I am asleep."
He stopped there, mortified to find small tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He swiped at them angrily, but it did little to stop them from forming and falling. Suddenly, he felt Rose's hand searching for his in the darkness, and without hesitation, he grasped it.
"Oh, Doctor," she breathed. "I wish you'd come to me sooner. May I try to help?"
He frowned. "How can you?"
She sighed. "I probably can't, but you're my best mate. I have to try. If I can't chase the nightmares away, please let me help you face them."
Slightly stunned by her words, he could only nod.
"First thing's first. Will you sleep here tonight? Will you let me keep you company and be here if the nightmares come back?"
Another small nod.
She thought a moment. "Have you ever listened to music while you slept?"
"No. I always thought I would find it distracting."
She chuckled. "Doctor, maybe you need a distraction." She got out of bed and walked over to the speaker. "Any requests? Favorite artist?"
"Er, no one I can think of. I've never been a big music fan, to be honest. I have to be in the right mindset to enjoy music. The right mood. Oh, I can enjoy a good Ian Dury once in a while, but…" He trailed off, not bothering to finish his sentence.
He heard the speakers crackle quietly as they began to pump the room full of the same haunting song as before. The bed shifted slightly as she climbed back in.
"May I touch you?" She asked, almost inaudibly. "I just want to comfort you."
He nodded and she moved closer, wrapping her arms around him. He relaxed slightly against her and his head rested on her chest. One of her arms was firmly wrapped around his waist, and the other rested on his shoulder and she stroked his hair. He hated being so vulnerable in front of Rose, but for the first time in years, he felt warm and looked after.
"Just focus on the words, Doctor. Let them surround you, surround us."
I'm sailing away
Set an open course for the virgin sea
Cause I've got to be free
Free to face the life that's ahead of me
On board I'm the captain
So climb aboard
We'll search for tomorrow
On every shore
And I'll try
Oh lord, I'll try
To carry on
He felt a small smile cross his lips as the tension and fear slowly began leaving his body. The words were sad yet soothing, and combined with Rose's comforting grip, he had never felt more safe.
As the exhaustion began to win the battle, he focused more firmly on the sounds of the music and Rose's steady breathing. His eyes slid closed and he finally fell asleep with a beautiful, relaxed smile on his face.
Come sail away
Come sail away
Come sail away with me
Come sail away
Come sail away
Come sail away with me