Stars hide your fires
It was one of these times when Rose just sat there, cross-legged on the captain's chair, a magazine in her lap but more occupied with watching the Doctor tinker with the TARDIS' many cables. He was humming a soft tune, nothing she'd ever heard before, maybe some song that wasn't even composed yet. She could watch him for hours. She would never, never get enough of looking at his handsome face. She studied every expression, every miniscule change the muscles in his face made.
She was fairly sure that, in his concentration, he didn't even notice that she was here, hence the humming. She did not care that he didn't seem to notice her. It wasn't that she didn't like the action and adventures, but a little nice and quiet really couldn't hurt once in a while.
Suddenly, there was a loud fizzling sound, followed by a cry from the Doctor.
Rose leapt out of the captain's chair and closed the distance between her and the Doctor in a few quick steps. She knelt down beside him. "Are you okay?" she asked him worriedly.
He had one finger in his mouth and with his other, free hand he was angrily hitting some part of the TARDIS' equipment with a tool that looked half like a wrench and half like a blender. But try as she might, she couldn't understand the string of words - undoubtedly ones of frustration - that were coming out of his mouth. It didn't sound like English at all. It sounded like nothing she'd ever heard, really. It was muffled because he still had his burned finger in his mouth, but still. Was this his native tongue? She'd never heard him speak... Gallifreyan.
The words really sounded like nothing she'd ever heard on earth before. It sounded positively alien, a strange staccato, yet with a flow - but not one a human language possessed, but it rang a bell somewhere in her head. Strange enough, she suddenly had the image of her math class in front of her, the teacher talking about equations and functions. It sounded a bit like that, like math and science, ancient and old and yet unknown.
He seemed so absorbed in grumbling in this strange language, she doubted that he had heard her question in the first place. "Doctor? Are you okay?" she tried again. Did he even understand her? Or had he just destroyed the TARDIS' translation circuit? She hoped not. But then again, the Doctor could surely speak English. He'd once mentioned that he spoke about five billion languages. English must be one of them.
This time, he looked at her, still sucking on his finger. "Just got an electric shock and got burned. I'm sorry. I was cursing really badly."
Rose sighed in relief. "Good."
The Doctor looked at her with raised eyebrows. "Good that I cursed or good that I didn't lose a finger?"
She laughed. "What I meant was that it's good you didn't damage the translation circuit."
"What?" he had totally forgotten about his finger now. "Why would you think that?"
Oh. He hadn't even noticed! She smiled at him. "You were not cursing in English… I believe it was Gallifreyan."
"Oh…" The Doctor just said, expressionless. "Hm. Happens when I don't concentrate enough." He turned away, back to the part that was responsible for burning his finger.
"So you're talking English all the time?" Rose asked, curious now.
"Of course I do. The TARDIS does not translate Gallifreyan. She doesn't have to." He replied curtly.
Rose looked at him with a surprised face. "Ever since you told me about the TARDIS being in my head and translating I thought... ", she cleared her throat, feeling a bit self-conscious suddenly, and so she ducked her head, "... I just thought that, when I spoke, it would sound Gallifreyan to you..."
She waited for him to maybe say more, but he didn't. Ouch. She must've touched a sore spot. Maybe he was disappointed that he alone could still understand Gallifreyan. At least she pointed it out to him now yet again. Another reminder of the war. A war he still fought with himself. A war she so desperately wanted him to forget about. To ease the pain, to give him something to hold on to.
Very good Rose, you're as sensitive as a wrecking ball, she thought to herself.
The Doctor meanwhile had started tinkering again. He had wordlessly climbed under the grating of the TARDIS' floor, so she couldn't even see his face.
She had really thought that the TARDIS would translate her words... she was more than a bit disappointed by the fact that she was just proven the opposite.
She couldn't really imagine how life would be without her mom, a family, friends, her home... not being able to return to the earth she knew. Rose couldn't imagine what it must have felt and still feel like for him to have pushed the button that ended it all, destroyed his home planet. To be the last of a kind, so very lonely, so very guilty and no one there to forgive him but himself.
Nowhere – except the TARDIS – to call 'home'.
Then, suddenly an idea took form in her head. Maybe, just maybe, she could give him a small piece of 'home' at least.
She left him to his tinkering and stood up, brushing a bit of dust off her jeans. With a mumbled "'till later!" she walked out of the console room, in the direction of the library. By now, she knew the way to the vast room by heart. Down the corridor, past her bedroom, to the left, turn right after the swimming pool and right again at the junction, third door on the left.
Once she was inside the library, she was a bit lost. There were books over books – and other media from earth as well as from alien planets. Where should she even begin to look? Rose softly touched the walls of the TARDIS. You gotta help me out, old girl. Please. It's for him.
That seemed to string a chord with her, because the second Rose finished the thought, she felt the TARDIS in head, where she showed her an image of shelves stacked with small, thick and round devices in black with little red glowing lights on them.
Rose thought it rather looked a bit like a bomb detonator from these action flicks Mickey liked to watch.
Curious, Rose rounded a corner and found herself in front of a huge row of shelves full of said gadgets.
And now? The TARDIS sent Rose another image of her pushing the button in the middle, then another one of a projection the little device ejected out of its middle.
Rose did as she was told and grabbed one of the devices, holding it in front of her eyes to examine it further. On its surface, little filigree circles where engraved. She had already seen these characters on sticky notes the Doctor had pinned on the monitor in the control room.
"Okay... let's get started", she muttered under her breath and pushed the button in the middle of the device.
Like the TARDIS had shown her, a hologram was projected out of the plate. The circular characters appeared in front of her again. Gallifreyan, she thought and the TARDIS sent her the equivalent of a nod.
But what should I do with that now?, she pondered. She didn't really know what the TARDIS wanted form her. What were these strange devices? Why did she have to open them? Experimentally, she touched one of the circular characters on the hologram with her index finger.
Immediately, the hologram flickered and showed her a different picture. This time, she could read half of the page, because it was written in English.
Suddenly, it dawned on her. This was vocabulary - it was a device for learning English! Works either way! Thank you, old girl. You're brilliant!
As Rose experimented further with the device, she learned that she could listen to voice samples in either of the two languages, and that there were various sections with different themes like 'Negotiation', 'Physics' or (more useful for Rose) 'Communication in Society'.
Studying was really hard – she almost gave up on the fourth day upon finding out about the 27 different tenses – but she was more interested in learning a few words and short sentences anyway. At first she was so fascinated with the alien flow and sound of the beautiful language that all she could do was listen to the samples provided by the device. After a few weeks, she could at least pronounce some of the words right. It was a slow progress, but she was highly motivated by the thought of the Doctor's smiling face.
The Doctor however didn't even ask why she was spending every waking hour between their adventures in the library. He must've thought she was reading a new shallow Alien-Romance-series again. To Rose, he was so much like any other ordinary bloke sometimes: totally oblivious.
The Doctor slammed the door of the TARDIS shut, collapsing against it, laughing loudly. Rose had jumped in a second earlier. She was lying on the floor, chortling whilst gasping for air. "Did you see its face when I hid behind that curtain?" she asked. He laughed some more. "He was all like: Where did my food go?"
"Absolutely!" she responded. She stood up, brushing the dirt off her jeans. "I'm going to take a shower, and then I'll be in the library, 'kay?"
The Doctor also stood up, hanging his coat on one of the hooks by the door. "Okay." He hesitated a bit. "Why is the library so fascinating to you? You spent the last weeks cramped up in there! Is there a new alien romance novel I didn't know about? Galaxies of passion or something like that?" he grinned at her.
There we go! He noticed it after all, she thought as she stuck out her tongue playfully. "No!"she said, mock miffed. "I did some research, actually!"
"Research, of course. And what did you study? Alien anatomy? Or alien social behaviour during mating season?" he teased.
"You're so immature! As a matter of fact, I did some research on alien language." She crossed her arms.
"What? I thought the language of love was universal!" The Doctor sighed theatrically and blew kisses in the air.
"Ha ha Doctor, very funny." She took a deep breath and gathered her courage, then she spoke again, this time in Gallifreyan. "My research concerned the study of a very important and old language."
The Doctor stopped dead in his motions and looked at her as if she had suddenly grown a second head.
She concentrated, the she spoke again. "I'm very sorry, my Gallifreyan is not the best."
He still stared at her with disbelief. It was as if he was frozen, the way he stood there, like he wasn't even breathing.
Why didn't he say anything? Normally, he would have shown some reaction by now. Slowly but steadily it dawned on her that maybe she had made a big, big mistake.
"It's such a beautiful language... I think it's a shame that you're the only one who still knows how to speak it... but then again, you can't even really speak it... I mean as in really talking with somebody..." Rose noticed that she had started rambling and stopped talking, closing her mouth with an almost audible snap.
"I dream in Gallifreyan." the Doctor slowly said. "That always had to suffice."
"Are you mad at me?" she almost whispered.
He hesitated, and Rose didn't know if he was angry or not, she couldn't exactly decipher the look on his face. He wore a deep frown and his mouth was a tight line. Okay, that wasn't exactly what you would call a happy face, or a face at all – it looked more like he was wearing a mask.
"'m sorry..." she murmured and hastily looked down in shame when their eyes met. Immediately, she felt really stupid and foolish. She felt much, much younger than she was. She felt like a child. I'm such an idiot!
Never, ever before had she felt like this in front of the Doctor, not even when he was all big ears and leather and very angry at her for saving her father in front of his eyes and destroying a fixed point in time.
She knew it couldn't have been more than 2 seconds since she had asked him if he was mad, and then again, it felt like an hour to her. Shame coursed through her veins, and it only got worse as second by second passed by without an answer from him. Her heart was thumping so loud in her ears she was sure he must have heard it. She literally wasn't able to look him in the eye.
"I'm –I'm such a presumptuous cow..." Rose finally managed to press out between her teeth. "You're a Time Lord, I'm a human... I shouldn't have... shouldn't have thought..." she ran out of words. "...just shouldn't have. Sorry."
Her body moved before her mind could register it and she shot out of the control room like a bullet.
The TARDIS seemed to feel with her, because the door to her bedroom slid aside automatically in front of her. Once inside, she all but boxed the panel to close the door. As soon as it slid shut, she leaned against it, suddenly rooted to the spot. Humiliation shot through her, hot and white and scorching. And another feeling raised its ugly head inside her chest: rejection. Tears were now pooling in her eyes, threatening to spill over. He doesn't want you to learn his language, He's the last of his kind and what could be more intimate than speaking his language? He had his notes everywhere inside the TARDIS, written in beautiful and intricate circular Gallifreyan symbols. It was his personal space and she had tried to invade it! She felt incredibly stupid. How could she ever look into his eyes again?
She tried to take a deep, calming breath, but it hitched in her throat and she couldn't hold the tears any longer. She started to cry in earnest, the feeling of rejection washing through her, stabbing her heart like a white hot iron stake. She wanted so badly to hear her mother's voice right now, to be held, to be at home, safe in her bed.
But then again, what would Jackie say? Her mother had never been very fond of the idea of her daughter travelling through time and space with a man 900 years older than her and a heart – in her mother's opinion - "as cold as a well diggers butt." Okay. She knew she wouldn't be getting any real pity from her mum. No use in calling her then.
Slowly, she stopped crying and willed her breathing to return to somewhat normal. She angrily wiped at her wet cheeks with the sleeves of her hoodie and sniffed.
So, what would come as close to her comforting home as possible in the TARDIS?
Right: chips. Good old chips always cheered her up. Galley it was, then.
Her hand hovered over the opening panel of the door though. What if she now ran into him on her way to the kitchen? She was fairly sure she still couldn't look into his eyes.
But she really needed her chippies now. She straightened her back and opened the door. She peeked out of the door and looked left and right. Good. He was nowhere to be seen.
Is he here? Rose asked the TARDIS, just to be sure. The TARDIS seemed to hesitate, than she sent her an image of the Doctor standing in front of a... was it a painting or a photo?
Is he standing in his bedroom? Rose thought, curious as to what the bedroom of the man who never slept looked like. Is there even a bed? The lights flickered, almost impatiently, as if to say: Not important! Another image filled her mind, this time it was the Doctor's face. He looked so miserable, so lost, even though - or because - his eyes were closed.
"Theeere go my Chippies..."Rose said under her breath. And your dignity, she added as an afterthought, remembering running from the console room like a drama queen, not to mention her red as well as puffy eyes and cheeks. But she couldn't stand the Doctor's sad face. And the worst thing was that it was her fault. She had brought up all these hurtful memories again. Just because of her foolish attempt to replace something she didn't even know one thing about. (Except a few basic sentences and words)
She just wanted to forget what she had done, and hoped he could forgive her and move on. But, as much as she would have liked to hide under her pink covers for a few days, she felt like it was her duty to look after the Doctor – her Doctor. He seemed down, so she would try to cheer him up.
She hadn't even properly formed the thought as to where the Doctor's bedroom even was, as she saw an open door at the end of the corridor – the TARDIS was being helpful again.
Rose walked up to the room as silently as she could; she even subconsciously held her breath. She gripped the doorframe and stood still for a moment. Her heart was beating so hard in her chest, she was sure he could hear it.
But the Doctor didn't seem to notice her as she finally entered the room. Rose could only see his back and posture - rigid, almost statue-like – but she could imagine the pained look on his face, could maybe never forget it again, the image the TARDIS sent her a few minutes ago forever engraved in her memory.
She stepped closer, standing at the Doctor's side, deciding to not say anything yet, instead admiring the picture on the wall in front of them. She really couldn't decide whether it was a painting or a photo.
It looked more like a 3D-model hung on a wall. It showed a meadow with deep red grass, behind it a forest of silver trees. In the back she could see a city in what looked like a glass bubble. In the middle of the painting was a young man with blond hair, he was smiling and holding some sort of hologram. A diploma, Rose thought as she looked closer. To his left stood a man with a stern face in a really strange red headpiece attached to his gown. On the other side was a woman with a very proud smile that matched the big grin the blond young man wore.
"Is that you?" Rose asked, not looking at the Doctor. Somehow, she couldn't take her eyes away from the strange picture on the wall.
He remained silent for a few more moments before he hummed in confirmation.
She decided not to say any more yet and chose to study the face of the young Doctor in the picture instead.
He was a normal young guy, she thought: blond hair, greyish eyes, a very straight nose, thin lips but pretty nice cheekbones. There was really no resemblance to her Doctor now, nor to the one she knew before. Maybe except the boyish smile that he still possessed. Of course she knew about the whole regeneration thing by now, but it still was difficult to wrap her head around the fact that this young man was indeed her precious Doctor. She wondered how old he had been when the the painting was made. Maybe as old as her? 20-something? She looked back at the Doctor beside her, who had opened his eyes and also looked at the painting.
As if he could read her thoughts, he began to talk with a quiet voice, still staring at the picture.
"When this was made, I was 95 years old. That would be – what, 19, 20 years in human age? I had just passed the Academy where all Gallifreyans had to go if they wanted to become Time Lords. I remember the feeling of never being happier. My parents didn't really believe that I would ever come this far... I was pretty shy and solitary as a child. They were so proud. Well, when I say they, I mean my mother. My father was ... ", he stopped talking for a second to decide how do say it. "... well, it was expected of me to succeed in the Academy and become a Time Lord. There really was no other option. But on this day, I felt like the whole world was lying at my feet... and it really was this way, if you think about it. Not just the world I lived in, no: every world and galaxy I could imagine. The academy had already chosen a suitable partner for me and I had a lot of friends, with whom I could talk about the wonders of the universe. It all lay before me then... life's red carpet rolled out, and all I had to do was to take a step forward... and I did. And here I am now, nearly 900 years later, regretting that I ever took this cursed step." He sighed, his eyes closed again.
Rose could only stare at him. Never before had he opened himself like this to her and told her about his past on Gallifrey. "Doctor..." she whispered and lifted her arm to touch him but changed her opinion and let it fall back to her side. She had never felt so helpless.
The Doctor turned his head to look at his companion, and she quickly averted her eyes, looking at the floor. "I'm sorry Rose. Really, I am." He turned around to her and touched her arm. "Come on, look at me."
Rose did as she was told and looked up. The eyes looking back at her spoke volumes: sadness, loss, ancient pain and regret.
"Rose... I didn't mean to react like this. Well, I say react. All I did was stare at you. I should've gone after you." he said.
She shook her head. "No Doctor, you have absolutely every right to be mad at me. I was such an idiot for thinking I was doing something good for you. I was so dead set on my idea that it never once occurred to me that I could hurt your feelings like I have. I should be the one to apologise, really." She averted her eyes again, full of shame.
"Oh Rose...my wonderful, over thinking, brilliant Rose." He shook his head and gingerly took her hand. "Never again should you have the feeling you have to apologize to me just because you wanted to do something good for me. I was such an idiot. I was at loss for words, really. I am an old, sentimental fool, please forgive me. I'm so rusty after all this time. And a Time Lord on top of that. You know we were raised not to reveal our feelings. I'm really trying to get that out of my system, but as you can see, sometimes I'm still failing at that."
Rose warily looked at him again."But..."
"No 'but'!" he cut her off, squeezing her hands, then letting go only to cup her face. "What you did for me... I know how hard it is to learn Gallifreyan. It's complex and nothing like any human language. I really appreciate the effort you took for me. You are so brilliant, to be able to put a sentence together like you did is almost impossible in such a short amount of time. And Rose..." he searched her eyes again, gazing intently into her brown orbs. "I think you really don't know what you did for me. Thank you. So much. I really can't put into words how much that means to me." He paused, then said a Galiffreyan sentence she could perfectly well understand: "Thank you."
Her breath hitched when she saw the intensity in his eyes and suddenly his face was so close to hers that she could feel his cool breath. He was still looking into her baffled eyes as he closed the distance and gave her a chaste kiss on her partly opened lips. After a short millisecond Rose realised what was just happening and just as she was about to close her eyes and deepen the kiss, he had already taken his cool lips off of hers.
He took his hands away from her cheeks quickly, scratched the back of his head and cleared his throat. "Well... yeah. Just. Thank you, you know."
It took Rose a moment until she found her voice, which she could hardly hear over the volume of her heartbeat. "Yeah. You're... uhm... welcome, I guess."
"So!" the Doctor said cheerfully and clapped his hands while he all but ran out of the door. "Where to next? There is this one planet I've wanted to show you. The residents have to carry their heads around in the upper right hand! Well, I say heads. I mean, technically, it's a head. More like a box. With a mouth. The eyes are not on the box, obviously. That would look absolutely idiotic. Wouldn't make sense at all. The eyes are on the other three hands of course. But then, when I say hands – "
"Doctor!" Rose cried in exasperation, all but racing while trying to catch up to him. "Stop it!"
"Yeah. You're right. Of course." He stopped and scratched the back of his head again.
He turned around to face her with a big grin on his face. "But then again, we could also work on your Gallifreyan. Your accent is horrible, you know?"
Rose looked at him with disbelief. "DOCTOR! Now you gotta run!" She launched forward to grab him, but he was quicker, already starting to sprint down the corridor, laughing loudly.
Giggling, she ran after him, feeling as if she was taking a step forward on life's red carpet.