The moment they entered the TARDIS she walked away, leaving him to launch them from the church, from 1987. He knew it was what she needed, time alone, and so he did not attempt to follow her but instead set the ship to enter the vortex, then pulled out some tools to make repairs and to wait.
She reappeared later, face washed clean, with telltale pink nose and puffy eyes but otherwise calm, carrying two mugs of tea. She drank hers quietly, cradling the hot mug in her hands while he told her about the necessary work to be done. "Do you mind if we stay in the vortex for a couple of days?"
She shook her head, gaze cast slightly to his right so that she didn't quite meet his eyes. He had not fully realized how much he normally enjoyed her chatter after a trip. She ran her fingers over the TARDIS's controls, and he felt the ship hum inside his mind. "I think I'll take a nap," she finally said.
"OK. I'll have the TARDIS wake you for dinner."
After she left, he sent his thoughts out to his ship.
"Is she all right?"
No, she is hurting right now. Seeing her father die was more difficut than she imagined it would be.
"Will she be all right?"
I think so. Give her time.
That was one thing he understood – time.
He worked, and she drifted, walking from room to room as if searching for something she had lost. He knew the TARDIS placed rooms before her that might help her – library, swimming pool, garden, observatory. She chatted with him lightly, ate sparingly, disguised her tired eyes with makeup, annd retreated from him a little each day. He watched, worried, and tried to give her space.
"She's not getting any better."
I know. It was a deeper wound than we expected.
"What can I do?"
Patience, dear one. Patience and time.
"This is more than her dad. She's so pale and she's losing weight. I scanned her today when she wasn't looking, just to be sure – nothing detected."
I know.
"She won't talk to me. How can I help her if she won't tell me what's wrong?"
You better than anyone know how that feels.
"Can you find out what's wrong? Don't pry into her mind too deeply. I know how uncomfortable that makes her."
Yes, I'll try.
"I'm just…"
I know, dear one…
"Maybe a different kind of planet next time. That one we went to last week was too dry – she doesn't really enjoy desert planets. I remember one in –"
No. No travels.
"What?"
She doesn't need travels. She needs rest.
"She doesn't want to travel? Does she… does she want to… to go home?"
No, dear one. She needs rest. She is exhausted, physically and emotionally. She is not like us – she is still bound by time. She will not stop as long as you are willing to take her, but she needs to stop for a little while.
"But how? How can I - Wait, what about…"
Yes. Yes, my dear one. That is what our girl needs. Exactly what our girl needs.
The next morning saw Rose walking into the main room looking confused. "Doctor, what's going on?" She gestured toward the sleeveless shirt, shorts, and sandals she was wearing. "I thing the TARDIS wants me to wear this, but I don't know why."
He did not look up from the controls. He did not want to muck up these calculations. "We're stopping today, and the weather will be warm." A slight bump. "Here we are. Go ahead – I'll be right behind you," he added casually.
She walked to the door, and he watched her closely, smiling to himself. Here goes nothing, he thought, and the ship hummed with excitement.
Rose opened the door and stepped out slowly, looking around in amazement. Whatever she had expected, it was not this.
Sunlight, hot and bright sparkling on the waves of a blue, blue ocean which spread out unbroken to the horizon. White sand pristine, untouched by any living thing. Birds wheeling about in the cloudless sky. Behind her, the edge of a tropical forest, trees waving in the warm breeze. Soft air full of the sound of the sea, the smell of salt and flowers.
As she slowly turned around, feet sinking into the soft sand, she found the Doctor beside her, smiling down at her. "Where are we?" she whispered.
"A little island, uninhabited, not too far from Tahiti," he answered.
"Earth?" she said wonderingly, and he nodded. "When are we?"
"Does it matter here?" he asked, and then she smiled, really smiled for the first time in too many days. She took a slow , deep breath and quietly released it, her eyes closing briefly then opening again, like a child on Christmas morning before a laden tree. "May I walk?" she asked, gesturing toward the shore.
"Sure. I'm going to power down the TARDIS, so I'll be here when you get back. Wait," he added as she turned away, "let me…" He pulled out his screwdriver and slid the beam over her. "Sonic sunscreen – your English skin is no match for the tropics." He smiled at her encouragingly. "Take your time. I'll see you soon."
She kicked off her sandals and walked quickly to the edge of the ocean. She stepped into the water so that the waves lapped about her ankles and, after a quick, sweeping glance, set off down the beach.
The Doctor stepped back into the TARDIS, smiling. His ship fairly sang with pleasure as she felt his relief.
The sun had risen to its apex when he saw her figure appear. As she drew nearer, he could see her hair streaming behind her in the ocean wind, a tangled golden curtain. She walked up to him where he lounged on the sand – he had spread out a large blanket in a spot dappled with sun and shade. He squinted up at her and felt his hearts relax at the expression on her face, the smile and the sparkle in her eyes.
"Look at you," was the first thing she said, and her voice was already stronger, brighter than he had heard in weeks. "Quite the beach bum, you are."
He had changed in the TARDIS. Gone were the jeans, jumper, and leather. In their place were a simple white tee and shorts. His feet were bare. "Bum was not the look I was going after," he said, glancing down.
"Oh, I think it really works for you," she said, a teasing lilt in her voice. "I like it. I hope you sonic-ed on some sunscreen yourself – you're as pale as I am."
"Definitely – red is not my color." He patted the blanket beside him. "Care to sit down?"
She dusted the sand off her feet and jointed him, sitting cross-legged facing the water. He watched her profile through eyes half closed against the sun.
"It's so beautiful here," she softly said.
"Yes, it is," and when she turned her head, she found his eyes fixed on her face.
"Why did you bring us here?" she asked curiously. "It's not our usual type of spot – high excitement, danger…"
"Would you rather be somewhere else?"
"No! I can't think of a more perfect place." She looked out over the water again. "I didn't know the ocean could be so blue." She met his eyes, and he thought the blue of the ocean could not compare to those brown depths.
"Thank you," she said simply, and it was enough.
"You're welcome." And he leaned back and closed his eyes against the brightness of the sun and her face. He felt her lie down beside him, shoulder and hip and bare foot touching him. He reached for her hand and twined his fingers through hers, and they sighed together before dozing off under the warm tropical sun.
They watched the sun set into the ocean, a glorious explosion of gold and orange and pink. As twilight crept with inky purple fingers across the sky and the stars began to shine, the Doctor lit the bonfire he had carefully built. Sparks danced about them as Rose taught him how to make s'mores. He tasted them gamely – they were ridiculously sweet, but she seemed to love them, licking chocolate off sticky fingers with childlike glee. He was content merely to watch her enjoyment, smiling indulgently at her.
As the fire died low, they looked up at the stars, the Doctor sitting cross-legged and Rose leaning back against him. Her hair tickled his nose – she smelled of salt air and wood smoke and … Rose. He told her stories of those far-away worlds, whispering them in her ear – not stories of war or strife but of wonder and discovery. When he was silent, the only sounds were the crackle of the dying fire and the gentle rush of the ocean.
"Doctor?" she breathed.
He tightened his arms around her to let her know he had heard.
She turned to look up at him, the firelight reflecting in her eyes, and she smiled. Reaching up, she gently touched his cheek, cupping it in her palm.
"Doctor," she repeated, and it was no longer a question.
"Rose," he whispered in reply.
Her smile widened, became a tongue-touched thing of beauty. She turned back to the fire, laying her hands over his where they rested on her arms and entwining their fingers. He rested his cheek on her hair.
For tonight, it was enough.
They spent three days on the beach, walking and sleeping, talking and laughing. Finally a moment came when Rose turned to him. Color bloomed on her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled with anticipation.
"Are you ready to go?" she asked.
"Ready," he answered.
"Where?"
"Everywhere," he replied with a grin.
They reached out simultaneously, and their hands met, joined, palms pressed close. Together they turned from the mighty ocean and walked back into the TARDIS, their home.