Author's Note: Hello there! Welcome, and thank you for giving my story a shot. So, a few warnings and such: this was written as a 11th Doctor/Rose Tyler piece, but I suppose it could be read as 12/Rose or any post-10 Doctor, really. Also, if you like Tentoo/Rose, you might not like this very much. I don't deny the possibility of them having a relationship, it's just that if you think they do then this would be a little like Rose's "cheating" on him. With himself. Well, consider yourself warned.
Also, I clearly and sadly do not own Doctor Who or any of it's characters. If I did, Doctor/Rose would be canon and they wouldn't be in different universes. I do not profit from this work.
Happy reading! Do drop a review, I love me some opinions.
It was just for a few hours a week, and not every week, that you could catch the TARDIS in total, absolute silence. The humming of the engines and the whisper of soft breaths would be all you could listen to, and if any of the sleeping humans woke up, they would be startled not to hear the rush of feet or the lonely ranting of one mad Time Lord. Most of them companions had at some point assumed that the Doctor never slept.
But in that night precisely, if you listened really close, you'd be able to catch a small cracking over the rhythmic breaths, the soft, barely-there sound of time and space bending up in a silent miracle, causing the engines to hum just slightly louder; a greeting, pleasant tone added to the mysterious melody of the best ship in the Universe.
The Doctor would have caught that change for sure, hadn't it been in that precise night on those precise hours. Right then, he was too busy seeping into silent numbness to notice the small change in the air, and almost too numb to feel the brush against his side as someone settled down beside him, the new weight on his bed almost familiar enough for him not to notice it. Almost.
But the Doctor still had sharp senses that lead him to open his eyes wide, searching blindly in the darkened room, though his mind seemed to be taking a little too long to cooperate, his movements uncoordinated and graceless as he tried to get away from the someone laid down on his bed.
His moving was stopped, though, as a warm hand suddenly ran against his arms in what felt like a soft caress. The person was humming a low "shh" at him, the mattress underneath him shifting slightly as he felt arms curling up around his frame in an impossibly familiar motion, spreading a comfortable warmth around him and enveloping him in a soft scent, everything so familiar that his still-numb mind comfortably decided to let it pass as a rare good dream and before he knew he was back into a quiet sleep.
When he regained consciousness, the first thing he noticed was warmth around him. Now, with his mind fully rested, he was very much aware of the strangeness of that all, and he jumped silently away from the body embracing him.
Looking down at the form of the now-sleeping person, he felt his hearts rate increase impossibly. He rubbed his eyes as if to clear his vision, because it was surely tricking him. But no, there was definitely a blond-haired girl curled up in his sheets.
There is a twist in his chest and a breath caught in his throat as the wave of memories that only the right shade of blonde has the power to bring back crashes onto him. He blinks once or twice, because his eyes can't believe what they see - how could he believe? Oh, but he wants to. He wants to believe so badly, and it is with blind, impossible hope beating loudly in his chest that he raises his fingers to brush the golden locks out of her face. ("If I I believe in one thing, just one thing... I believe in her.")
The face that greets him leaves no room for doubt. He would recognize that face anywhere - had actually known every detail of it it by heart once, and maybe still did. Maybe his mind would have waved through hundreds of different possibilities to explain why was that girl here when she definitely shouldn't be - couldn't be -, but he felt her stirring in her sleep and restrained his hand quickly, the lack of her under his fingertips stinging like a reopened wound - and a wound that had taken far too long to close, had it ever really closed.
His eyes were wide with incredulity and old pain as he watched closely the girl's every movement, the slight flutter of her lashes and the way her hands rubbed her eyes in that quiet grace she had always had and never known. Her eyes then fall onto him and he finds himself frozen under her unreadable gaze. (Hadn't he always been so good at reading people? Oh, but that one girl...)
The smile that spreads through her face takes his breath away just as it always had. "You've changed again," she states, and her voice is so beautifully familiar that for a moment all he can do is let it echo through his head - he had never really realized just how much he missed that sound.
"Rose," Is all he can sputter after several seconds of silent, stunned wonder. "But- How-"
Any questions were taken out of his mind as she got up and threw her arms around him. His mind was blank as he felt her head settling on his shoulder, sniffing the new scent of his new body. She hummed against the skin, sending a shiver down his spine as he himself got lost in her scent, it had been so long.
"I missed you," She murmured, lips brushing against the soft skin of his neck. That was when he decided that questions could wait and returned her embrace, his arms tightening around her because Rose.
"So did I," He whispered back, his lips pressed against her hair, taking in every bit of her.
He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, pressed close to each other, the only sounds in the room being their shaky breaths and the beating of their hearts. He wasn't sure and he didn't really care, because in that moment all that mattered was Rose.
The peaceful silence was cut by a low beeping sound. Rose sat back, leaving the embrace, and he didn't want to let her go. She looked down at the machine tied to her wrist - something that looked like some sort of vortex manipulator -, and then looked back at him, a small, saddened smile taking her features.
"I only have a few minutes," She said calmly, and he felt his hearts skip a beat. "So I guess it's time to answer your questions."
Before he started, he took her hands in his, not wanting to miss a single second of the passing minutes he had left with her. He swallowed to clear the lump in his throat, and then lingered his eyes on the gold-ish brown of hers. He then stuttered his first question: "How?"
Her smile grew in a sort of smug way and she raised her wrist. "Void manipulator. Some sort of dimension cannon, only it gives me a few hours in this Universe and while I'm here it prepares to fix the walls of the Universes. Then when it's time, it pulls me back, healing all the tears and no damage done. I helped build it," the smug smile was joined with a cheeky wink.
His eyes lingered on the machine for a few seconds. Brilliant, really. Potentially life threatening but brilliant. But why would she take the risk? Why would she come here when she had... Him? That was his next question, he decided. "Where's... Where's the other me?" He whispered.
She smiled softly. "On the other side. He's doing very well, even if it was a little hard to learn to settle down. He's planning to travel all the Earth now," She chuckled.
He didn't. He looked down for a second and then back up to her eyes. "Does he know?" The look on her face answered that no, he didn't know. "Why are you doing this? If I were him - and I am -, I wouldn't be pleased if you were doing this to me. Why?"
She looked at him softly, her hands holding his tighter. Her voice was barely a whisper when she answered, "Because I need you."
And it was enough for him because he needed her just as much. So all he did was hold her close to him as tight as he could, feeling her sigh against his skin. And he should feel guilty but he didn't because it was Rose.
The beeping came back again and she got out of his embrace reluctantly. Her eyes were sad as she whispered "it's time".
As the beeping increased and her seconds passed, he looked right in her eyes and told her the words he should have told her a long time ago. And as she faded from him, she smiled the biggest smile he could remember.
And when he went to sleep again, weeks later, she was back, slipping into bed with him and holding him close. And he held her back and said the words when she was fading. And he found himself going to sleep even when he didn't need to, just because she would be there.
It took him three nights to kiss her and four seconds after their lips touched to regret not doing that before.
She would always be there, and it was always so very right. They would always hold each other and he would always say the words. And really, the Doctor didn't think he'd ever gone to sleep with such a frequency.
Maybe someone could point out many wrong things in their little secret. But it was the Doctor and his Rose Tyler, in the TARDIS, as it should be, and it felt nothing less than right.