Dabbling in a new fandom here! A short one-shot about the time immediately after Journey's End. The Doctor's clone keeps watch as Rose sleeps, and Jackie steps in for a bit of mothering. I've been a fan for a while, but never had the urge to actually write any of it until I saw the s4 finale. Now I can't get half of them out of my head.
For the record, I don't own them. If I did, they'd still be in the TARDIS and I'd get twice the Tennant.
He sat by the bedside, watching her. She looked peaceful, for the first time in a long time, and he was in no hurry to wake her. All signs of danger were gone for the moment. There was always the potential for it to crop up again, it usually did in his presence. But for now, they were safe, and Rose Tyler could get the rest she so greatly needed.
Though it'd been hours, he felt as if it'd been days. He had no urge to leave her just then, though he was slowly becoming aware of how very human this new body truly was. It needed to be fed more regularly, he needed to use the loo as any human would, and he needed more sleep than usual to survive. But sleep was the last thing on his mind just then, unless it was the sleep he'd all but demanded the young woman in the bed at his side get.
Jackie popped in from time to time, checking on the pair of them. He saw Pete with less regularity, though the man had been amazed and thrilled to see him arrive with the pair. Rose's mum brought food, though, tea and sandwiches and occasionally watched Rose for a bit as well. But there was an unspoken agreement between the two of them that this was his responsibility. As far as he was concerned, it was his fault she was in this state, and he'd be by her side until she was past it. She'd once done the same for him, nursing him and caring for him just after his regeneration. He'd never been left alone, not for long, and he wouldn't allow the same to happen to her.
"You're sure she's alright?" Jackie asked the day after, leaning in the doorway to look over her sleeping daughter. "She looks like a coma patient, like on the telly, you know, like that one time on Eastenders."
He had no idea what she was talking about, and doubted he ever would. Part-human or not, he'd never quite catch the appeal of the television, especially the weekly or daily programs some tended to lose themselves in.
Still, the mother in her was coming out, and strongly. "She's fine," he said reassuringly, though the worry in his eyes was still enough to frighten her. "Just sleeping."
For a moment, Jackie only watched the rise and fall of Rose's chest, but she wasn't satisfied with his answer. "You're sure? Just sleeping? She never used to be such a heavy sleeper and here we're talking right in front of her. And it's been hours, nearly a full day!"
Well, as much as Jackie was talking, it really was a wonder Rose hadn't woken. A tiny flicker of a smile made a brief appearance on his face before fading. "She's been jumping universes for months, Jackie. That's something no one's meant to do. Every trip between the rip in time takes a toll on the human body. Even I couldn't withstand it with no ill effects. To have done it over and over as she did..." With a soft sigh, he squeezed the hand he was holding gently. She wouldn't wake from that, and it wouldn't hurt her. He knew because he'd done it several times since he'd taken up his sentry duty by her side. "To have done that and then fought a war immediately after says a great deal about her strength. She'll probably sleep this way another day or two, then several hours a night till she's recovered."
"But you watch over her as if you're afraid she's going to... You know. As if she's not going to be there much longer." The concern in her voice reminded him just how very human she was. And, from the war he was fighting with his own emotions, perhaps he was, too.
Gingerly, a finger ran over Rose's cheek. He was surprisingly unabashed at letting Jackie see him show such tenderness. Perhaps because, with the exception of maybe Pete, she was the only one who could say she loved Rose to the same depths that he did. "Maybe I am," he whispered, more to himself than to her. "Maybe I'm afraid if I walk away, even for an hour, she won't be here. Not from the sleep, but..."
His eyes clouded over, in that way they did when he was thinking of a dark past that only he knew of. Rose had bits and pieces of it. Martha, Donna, and Jack all did, too. Sarah Jane knew quite a bit, but on another spectrum entirely than his newer, fresher companions. But he could only be so open with any of them. Another curse, he supposed.
But perhaps not. Not really. He was getting a second chance. The Doctor--the other one--had given Rose a gift of sorts, but perhaps he'd given his clone one, as well. A chance to start fresh, in a human world, in a mostly human body. And, if she'd have him, with this girl by his side. Girl? No, Rose Tyler had definitely grown up. She'd been merely nineteen when he'd met her, but now she was an adult. A capable, driven, compassionate young woman who he'd happily spend whatever time he had left with. If only they could make it work out once she opened those eyes again.
"You're really him, aren't you?" Jackie said quietly, interrupting his silent monologue.
He was, wasn't he? Sort of. "I'm really him, Jackie. Same memories, same feelings..." A glance was spared to meet her eyes, before he returned his gaze to Rose's sleeping face. "I imagine that connection will break now. He'll have his memories and I'll make my own. But up until then...it's me. Him. Us."
She was looking at him as if he'd grown another head, and he had to smile. "So... I guess what I'm trying to find out... Rose."
Her worry was obvious. How genuine could he be if he wasn't exactly the man who'd taken care of Rose for two years? He looked up, his eyes just as concerned as hers. "I meant what I said to her, Jackie. He and I may have our differences, but we still feel the same. We have the same memories."
The older woman's eyebrows lifted curiously. "All of them? You're telling me you're supposed to be human but remember five hundred years?"
He smiled, then. "Nine hundred, actually. And look at you, thinking. Really thinking, not letting someone else do it for you. I'm quite proud, actually."
She rolled her eyes, but laughed a little, then turned a worried glance to Rose. Still, the girl didn't stir. "Laughter won't hurt her," he told the mother with a small smile. "She'll sleep through most anything right now."
Jackie stood surprisingly silent, then stepped forward. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and he glanced up, surprised by the warmth in her touch. "You do know if you hurt her, I'll make a Dalek invasion look like puppy kisses, don't you?"
For that, the Doctor's clone had to grin sheepishly. "Wouldn't expect anything less. You're her mum. She won't be happy with this. Not at first. He left her."
"She'll come to forgive that," Jackie protested. "She loves him. Always has. And you... Well, she's bound to see you're him."
At that, he flicked his tongue across his lower lip and dropped his head into his hand. A gesture so completely unlike him that even he had to pause and consider it. What other sorts of things did this more human version of him do? Other than grow old and die. Of that, he was certain. With only one heart, the regeneration process would be stunted. Like it or not, this was who he was now. "Maybe she will. Or maybe she'll always resent that he left her behind."
And who could blame her? She'd given up such a huge part of her life, trying to track him down. Again, as she had so many times before, she'd almost died at his side. The other him, the one wearing the trench coat - he was going to miss that coat - had simply left her there, on that beach, holding his hand as her only source of comfort. Rose Tyler had every right to be furious.
"No, Jackie," he said softly, several moments later. "I don't plan to hurt her. If she doesn't want me around, I'll leave. And if she does..." He glanced up catching her mother's eyes. The same eyes Rose herself had, only Jackie's were bluer.
More gently than she ever had before, she leaned down, pressing a light kiss against his cheek. "Then the two of you will live happily ever after," Jackie confirmed, brushing a bit of that unruly hair off of his face. "First we ought to see about fattening you up a bit. All skin and bones, you are."
He laughed, then. His first genuine laugh in two days. Well, no. Perhaps it could be judged his first laugh ever. A new Doctor. He rather liked the idea. The sleeping woman shifted, her first sign of movement in hours. "You know, I think she agrees."