Alone, I Dwell in the House of Sorrow

The Doctor hovered in the shadowed doorway to Rose's room, gazing longingly at the peacefully dozing human girl. She was so fragile, yet her every breath reflected a purity of soul and a strength her merely mortal shell belied, captivating him. He was entranced, enchanted, bound to her beyond escaping. It was her and her alone who stood between him and oblivion.

And today the brief flickering flame of her existence had nearly been extinguished.

He shouldn't be here, shouldn't be watching while she slept, all innocent of his attentions. But he could not force himself to stay away, was drawn inexorably to her side. It was not the first instance temptation had beckoned to him, but now, after he'd almost lost her, his ability to resist had been worn to naught.

She stirred beneath the blankets, breath quickening as she muttered, her sleep disturbed by images he could only imagine. The muttering suddenly transmuted to a quiet cry, a denial of he knew not what, but it sent him striding across the room to crouch by her side.

Gently laying his palm against the silken ivory of her cheek, he brushed the sweep of blonde hair from her face, tucking it behind one delicate ear. Leaning forward, he murmured her name, his voice a velvet caress that whispered across her sleeping mind, drawing her from the horror haunted slumber in which she dwelt.

Eyes wide, shining in the dim light, she stared up at him. They were deep and warm, filled with confusion, the lingering tatters of nightmare swimming in their limpid chocolate depths. He yearned to free her from their tyrannical hold.

Whispering her name once more, he watched the confusion dissipate as recognition grew. Lashes fluttering, casting dusky shadows across her pale skin, she sighed his name in a voice like the dawning sun, sending a shiver across his skin.

"You were having a nightmare." The words were a simple explanation of his presence at her side, but the communication flowing between their locked eyes was anything but straightforward, speaking of emotions so deep and complex he doubted mere language would ever be a worthy vessel to express them.

She drew herself upright, gaze flickering to the side, hiding from his searching gaze. In an offhand manner that failed to hide how deeply affected she was by what had disturbed her rest, she asked, "Was I?"

He couldn't abide that she was hiding from him, when he needed so desperately to assure himself of more than just her physical well-being. His fingers trembled slightly as they touched her chin, sliding along her jaw, turning her to face him. When she didn't resist, when she instead brushed her cheek against his hand, his pulse raced. Every day he touched her, held her, but somehow, here in this moment, that brief gesture held significance beyond even his understanding.

"What were you dreaming about?"

Still hiding her eyes, she twisted the hem of the blanket between her fingers, replying quietly, "I don't remember."

He knew that she remembered, knew if she lifted her eyes to meet his, he'd see the remnants of what haunted her imprinted on her very soul. "Rose, please."

"I can't." The break in her voice shattered the remnants of his control. Slowly, carefully, he wrapped her in his arms. The feel of her heart beating against him, fluttering like the wings of a frightened bird, filled him with sorrow. She was his Rose, his to protect, and she should never have to be afraid.

"Of course you can, don't be daft. There's nothing in the entire universe that you can't tell me." Smiling gently, he pressed a soft kiss to her temple, striving for a light-hearted tone. "Besides, if you were dreaming about today, I was there, remember?"

She was silent and still in his arms and he waited patiently for her to overcome her reluctance. With a sudden sigh the tension drained out of her and she slumped forward, head tipped to rest against his chest, mumbling, "Well, yeah, there is that."

"So, you gonna tell me?" Her hands were flat against his chest, and they curled slowly into fists, clutching the soft wool of his jumper as she hesitated. Tipping her head slightly, she glanced up at him uncertainly from beneath those long eyelashes, and he tightened his arms, pulling her closer.

She breathed deeply, releasing a sigh that was more than half a sob, and said in a voice so soft he had to strain to hear it, "I dreamt you were back on that rig. That you didn't stop it, that it blew up and took you with it."

"Oh, Rose." Caressing her back, one strong hand sliding up her spine, his thumb coming to rest in the sensitive hollow beneath her ear, he shook his head, cheek brushing the soft expanse of her hair. She arched slightly into his touch, an unconscious gesture that stirred him, made his voice unsteady as he sought to reassure her. "But that didn't happen, did it? It was just a dream."

"It could have. I put you in danger, Doctor, not the other way round. If I'd just been paying attention, had just been a bit faster, you wouldn't have had to go anywhere near the controls - it could have fried you when it shorted out."

"Maybe," her voice broke, a single crystal tear sliding down her face, glinting in the reflected light, "maybe you'd be better off without me. If you weren't always having to watch out for me, you'd be safer." Her words so surprised him he could do nothing but stare mutely when a second tear followed the first.

His shocked stillness was shattered when her eyes clenched shut and she pulled away from him. His hands found her face, thumbs brushing away tears that hovered on the brink of falling, stilling her retreat.

"Rose." Her eyes opened, and he read within them a desperate fear that mirrored his own: that he would be lost and she would be left to carry on alone. It was the fear with which he began each journey, repressed and denied else it paralyse him, but no less real for all that. He'd never dreamed she shared it so deeply. "What would I do without you?"

"You'd get into a lot less trouble. If you got…hurt 'cause of me, I'd…" her voice trailed off, and her fists tightened in his jumper. "I don't know. I'd rather go back to London and chips and everything than put you in danger."

Ice poured through him at her words. She'd leave him? She'd leave to keep him safe? That was something he would not allow. "Rose. I'm nine hundred years old, and apart from you I'm alone in this universe."

She shook her head in denial, trying to pull away, but he held fast, following her as she retreated until he was straddling her legs, looming over her. She needed to understand this; he had to make her understand. "Without you it's just darkness and death, and the habit of not dying."

Her eyes were wide, fine tremors shivering across her skin as she stared up at him in mute disbelief. He shouldn't be telling her these things, shouldn't be burdening her with the weight of the truth, but there was no one else. "You give me life, give me hope, give me a bloody reason to keep going."

"The universe doesn't need me, I shouldn't even be here. I never intended to survive – that was just its little joke at my expense, see?" He could feel her heart pounding, could feel the confusion of emotions rolling through her, a heady cocktail that was making him feel giddy and reckless. "If you're gone, what's the point?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but he pressed two fingers to her lips, quelling the response. The breath of air that washed over his skin made him shiver.

"Rose Tyler, I love you. Not your silly human idea of love - I'm a Time Lord and you have no idea what that really means. I shouldn't love you, 'cause it's not safe and it's not easy, but I'm beyond caring at this point."

He let his hands fall from her face to slowly trace the lines of her neck; let them slide down her arms until he reached her hands. Folding his fingers around her own, he waited, eyes holding hers. She was silent, staring up at him, and he hastily added, "There's nothing you have to do, Rose. Except stay with me. You don't endanger me – you are, in fact, the only reason I have to try and survive. Stands to reason I'll be much safer if you're here."

He smiled gently down at her, ready to walk away, ready to step back and pretend this had never happened. Nothing had to change, now that she knew. He could accept that, so long as she stayed.

Resigning himself to a future of pretence, he was preparing to leave when she leaned forward, holding his gaze. There was a fire in her eyes, a bright burning flame, and sudden hope held him motionless. One hand was pulled free of his grip and she placed it delicately against his cheek, nails scratching lightly across the dusting of stubble.

She didn't speak, but there was no need for words, and he inhaled sharply as she moved closer.

And then she was kissing him.

It wasn't a perfect kiss - it was uncertain and awkward and her nose bumped his - but it was all encompassing and beyond anything he'd ever known. Burying his hands in her hair, he pulled her forward, lips parting slightly to touch his tongue to hers – she tasted of vanilla and cinnamon and something undefinable. The tiny sound she made deep in her throat shot through him, sparking a wild explosion of passion he fought to control. Breath suddenly ragged, he gently pulled away, tipping his forehead to rest against hers. He had to maintain control, had to hold back, lest he endanger her.

Laying a hand on his chest, carefully centred between his hearts, her words flowed like water across his skin. "Maybe I'm only a human, and maybe we've got silly ideas about love. And maybe I don't know what it means to be a Time Lord, but I know what it means to love one."

She couldn't fully understand the magnitude of what she'd just proclaimed - not yet - but she would. Feeling as if a new sun had been born in his hearts, driving the lingering shadows from his soul, he couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. Her answering smile was like the dawning of a new day. "You sure about this?" He had to ask. "I'm not like Rickey and his lot. There's things…"

She interrupted him. " Trust me, I know you're not like anyone else. You're one of a kind, and it's nothing to do with being a Time Lord – it's just who you are. I'm betting there's things that are gonna be different. But there always is." Her smile morphed into a tantalising grin, her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth. "That's part of the fun, isn't it? Learning what's different."

Leaning forward to kiss her, one hand splayed across her back, he let the other creep under the edge of her shirt to follow the luscious curve of her hip, fingers spanning her ribs, smoothing across the sensitive flesh. Grinning against her mouth, he savoured the shiver that sent goosebumps trailing across her skin.

She wanted to learn what was different? He would show her things of which she'd never dreamed.

A/N: written in celebration of Urple day.