Title: Curse of the Time Lords

Author: Takada Saiko

Notes: So, this is my first Doctor Who fic. Ever. I obviously don't own it, so please don't sue me. I really don't have a lot, being an about-to-graduate university student and all. XD

Also, thanks to Gabrielle Day for beta-reading this!

Curse of the Time Lords

He'd told her to stay away from the box. Why hadn't she listened? It had been safely tucked away in a little room far from where they'd been directed upon arriving on this planet. She didn't even remember the name of the planet anymore. She couldn't seem to remember much else other than the sound of it calling her name. The pretty voice accompanied by a golden light that called to her. It sang. It sang so beautifully.

Rose Tyler didn't remember much between when she'd been standing next to the Doctor's side and now. She thought that he might have been discussing the anniversary of some sort of peace treaty with an aging alien and then it was like her feet had developed a will of their own, carrying her down the ornate hallways and into the room that had been pulsing with the strange energy that had brought them to the planet to begin with. Hadn't the Doctor told her to stay away from it? She really couldn't remember now.

Her fingers were caressing the box in a way that she thought might remind her of the way that her Doctor touched his TARDIS when he worried over it. Maybe she was comparing too much to him, she wondered absently. With that she opened it, eyes widening. Light exploded from it and then fizzled almost immediately as it hit the open air. The young Human stared at her hands as they glowed faintly with the only residual light from the decorative box.

"Rose!"

Strong hands – surprisingly strong with as thin as the arms they were – pulled her back and away, causing the box to slam shut without her to hold it open. As soon as it was fully shut the singing ended and she looked up to see a pair of dark brown eyes looking frantically at her. "Doctor?"

"I told you, Rose!" he fussed, hands moving from her shoulders to her face, checking something that she couldn't follow. "I told you to stay away from that box."

"There was this voice," she murmured quietly, head feeling somewhat fuzzy and eyes having a difficult time focusing on him. She had to bring herself around. This was her Doctor speaking. She had to focus on him. He was more important than some box – now dead looking with a strange rust building rapidly on its edges – that no longer held a tune in her head. He was real and right in front of her and without warning she launched herself forward and wrapped her arms around him. "There was a voice," she repeated, clinging to him with such a sudden passion that he had no other option in his mind but to return the embrace. "It was so strange, Doctor."

The Time Lord held her close, reveling in the proximity and feeling all irritation washing away from him. "It's all right," he whispered. "I think it's gone. I don't think it lasted against the open room."

"What was it?"

"It was old," he told her calmly, pulling away and flashing her a reassuring smile. "It was old and insignificant."

She nodded, accepting it without question.

Rose wasn't sure if she'd broken some unbreakable rule or if the Doctor just truly wanted to leave, but they didn't linger there much past that. He was gracious to their host, a smile on his face and they were off.

As soon as the doors closed on the TARDIS, the Doctor collapsed onto the bench on the far side of the control room. He sunk down so quickly that his companion was taken off guard. "Doctor?" she murmured, inching towards him. She was half worried that he was still upset with her. He was used to her wandering off when she was told not to, but it wasn't like she went trying to look for trouble. His quiet, odd sort of behavior was starting to unnerve her. "Where are we going now?"

"What about London?" he offered, voice low and tired.

"What year?"

"Oh…. 2006."

"We're going home? Why?"

"I thought you might fancy some time with your mother."

"Are you mad at me?"

This startled the Doctor. He cracked his dark eyes open, not even realizing he'd closed them, and looked at her. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"The box."

His face paled a bit at the mention of it. Slowly, almost unsteadily, he stood and crossed the space between them. His Rose – his beautiful, strong Rose – looked down at her tennis shoes, looking very upset over the thought. He reached out to her, hand brushing her face very briefly. "I'm not angry at you," he murmured lowly.

Lighter brown eyes widened and Rose grabbed his hand, holding it between her own. The Doctor could tell her mind was running quicker than she might have spoken out loud and her hands finally rested against his cheeks. "You're warm."

"What?"

"Your face is warm," she said as her fingers brushed skin, feeling cool against it. It was an odd sensation. She knew that, while it was rare for her to consciously note the usual coolness of his skin, his core body temperature was much lower than any Human's. So the fact that his hands and face felt warm to hers caught her attention.

"Oh." The Doctor pulled away from Rose very suddenly, moving towards his controls. "So, London. 2006. I think your mum will be glad to see you back." He began to pull on the levers and set the destination. The TARDIS roared to life, shaking and moving them into and through time and space.

"Are you sick?"

"I'm sorry?"

Rose rolled her eyes and moved to take hold of his coat, pulling him until he stumbled down to the bench. She didn't bother speaking as she pressed her hand against his face again, feeling him lean slightly into it as his eyes lulled closed. "I didn't know you could get sick."

The Doctor opened his mouth to argue with her, but stopped, a strange look crossing his face. Very suddenly he sat back, hands going to his mouth as he fell into a coughing fit. Every time that it looked like it might pass it would start again, until he was leaned forward, exhausted and panting for breath, with Rose's hand gently on his back.

The TARDIS had settled down into its landing spot by the time that the Time Lord had caught his breath. He was still leaned forward, shoulders trembling under the sudden strain and he groped for Rose's hand. He felt her arms encircle him from behind, embracing him in a manner that they rarely found themselves in. Neither were opposed to the closeness that was inevitable – and enjoyed – in their strange relationship, but her touch eased the pain that had been building in his head since the box had been shut.

"I'd hoped that it wasn't what I thought it was."

"What?" Rose asked gently. She didn't like the pause in his voice that, if it had been anyone else, might have sounded something like uncertainty.

He opened his mouth and then closed it again. "Nothing. It's nothing. I'm just a bit under the weather." He turned and flashed her a smile. "Just need a bit of rest."

"All right. Come on then." She started for the door and turned when she didn't hear him following. "If you think that I'm going to leave you here with you sick, you've got an other thing comin'."

The Doctor paled more than he had already. The thought of being dragged into Rose's home with her mother going between irritation at him for taking her daughter away to the furthest reaches of the galaxy to a mother-hen sort of attitude made his head hurt more than it did all ready. He really just wanted to go to his own personal room on the TARDIS, curl up in his own bed and sleep until his body had recovered. He didn't want Rose to worry and he didn't want to be fussed over. He certainly didn't want her to blame herself.

Rose sighed dramatically and grabbed his hand, pulling him behind her. He found himself stumbling out the door of the space-time ship and across the street to the apartments. By the time that they made it up the stairs he felt the world swaying around him and the sweat was beading against his face. The blonde fished her key out, opened the door, and announced them. "Mum! We're back!"

"Rose! Oh it's been so long, sweetheart! I thought you'd gone and gotten yourself lost!" Jackie called out, squealing as she rounded the corner and nearly took her daughter off her feet. She fussed over her for a moment before turning to the tall man at her side. "Look at you. You look like death warmed over. Whatcha do to yourself, Doctor? You didn' put my daughter in any danger, did you?" She waggled her finger at the alien, ignoring the innocent smile that stretched across his lips. "You two are always goin' to strange places and it's just not normal…"

"Mum!"

"Just a bit under the weather," the Doctor acknowledged with his hands raised in mock surrender to Jackie's tirade.

"Under the weather?" the middle-aged woman echoed, scrunching her nose in disbelief. "Do aliens get sick? Oi! You're not bringin' in any strange, otherworldly diseases into my flat!"

Rose rolled her eyes.

"It's not contagious, I promise."

"Then how'd you get it, eh?"

"Well… It's not contagious to humans."

"So you know what you got?" Rose piped in as she started for the kitchen to rummage through the fridge. She hadn't realized how famished she was.

"Pretty good idea," the Doctor answered as he watched her round the corner. He coughed harshly into his hands, feeling truly sick. "I really should go back to the TARDIS."

Jackie squinted at him. "You don' look so good," she was barely able to say before the Doctor felt himself sway.

He caught his balance against the wall, leaning heavily against it. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision as a bout of chills shook him and he slumped down to the carpet before he even realized it.

"Rose! Get in here! He's passin' out!" Jackie hollered, her shrill voice doing nothing good for his throbbing head.

Rose rounded the corner into the hallway and was knelt down by him almost before he could register her presence. "Hey, open your eyes," she instructed, cool hand against his feverish face.

Dark eyes fluttered open and he finally focused in on Rose. "Hello."

"Hello yourself," she returned, smiling slightly. "You all right?"

"Just a bit dizzy."

"More 'n a bit."

The Doctor nodded, regretting the action almost instantaneously. He could feel himself slipping and he tried to warn her, he really did. He knew it was going to scare her. He knew that she had no idea what had happened, and if he could keep her from knowing, it might be all the better.

"Rose, sweetheart, he might be contagious."

"He said he's not, so he's not."

"Well, he might be."

Jackie stood just behind her daughter who was leaned up against the bedroom doorframe, watching her Doctor carefully. They'd gotten him changed – in a pair of his own pajamas that Rose had found on the TARDIS – and into bed. His fever was up and his face had gone deathly pale, only tinged pink on the cheeks by fever. He shivered violently no matter how many blankets they piled on him and his sleep seemed to be disrupted by something as he tossed and turned, groaning quietly against whatever demon he was fighting in his own mind.

"It's weird," Rose murmured, half to herself. "The last place we visited… I barely remember it. All I really remember was this box that sang. Like a music box, but not." She leaned her head against the doorframe as she watched the Doctor toss in bed, sounding as if he were calling to someone but the name never left his lips. She thought that it might be a bit of his telepathy that always caught her by surprise.

"I don' know how you keep 'em all straight to begin with," Jackie complained.

"S'not so hard." Rose moved quietly into the room, sinking down next to the bed. Carefully she reached forward, letting her fingers race the Doctor's face. Frustration had been building in her since he passed out. "You've got to give me a way to help you," she whispered as she pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Nothing you could do," his raspy voice sounded in her ear, startling her.

"Doctor?"

Dark eyes fluttered open slowly and he tried to give her a smile. He reached up for her hand and took it in his own, holding tightly to it. "There were legends, years and years ago, about a sickness that had been created to try and wipe out the Time Lords." He watched her reaction carefully. "When I say years, I mean long before I was even born."

"It only affects Time Lords? Why would that even be around anymore?"

"Shouldn't have been," he admitted softly. "It was contained on the planet we visited."

Rose paled at this. "The box…."

"Don't worry too much over it," the Doctor murmured, feeling sleep try to drag him back to oblivion. He was so very, very tired. "Not your fault."

Tears built in her eyes. "But you told me… Oh my… What if you die? It'll be all my fault. Will you regenerate again? Are you going to have to change yourself all over again?"

"No," he coughed out, wincing against the obvious pain. "I can't. First thing the illness does is block that ability. Like I said: made especially for my race. They called it the Curse of the Time Lords. Bit melodramatic."

The tears began to spill over and Rose clutched tightly at his hand, bringing it to her lips. "You can't die."

"Don't plan on it, thanks."

"But you said-"

"That's what it's meant to do," he breathed. "It's old and worn down. I'm surprised it's having this much effect. I'll fight through it. You'll see, I'll be right as rain in a couple of days."

"Promise?"

"'course."

"I'm holding you to that." She paused, squeezing his hand. "Anythin' I can get ya?"

"Cup o' tea would be nice."

A grin lit her face and she nodded, scurrying out of the room to do as asked. By the time that she returned her Doctor was fast asleep, not having been able to wait. She checked his breathing, his pulse, and then finally tugged a chair to his bedside and settled in to sip on the mug of tea that would be far too cold by the time that he woke next.

He saw flames. Burning civilizations that had been at war. The Time War. He could feel tears streaming down his face and thousands of cries echoed in his mind, threatening to rip him apart from the inside out. It was so hot. He didn't remember it being that hot.

A dream, the Doctor tried to tell himself. That was all it was. A horrible nightmare of a memory that was tugging at his soul. He closed his eyes against it, hoping that it would shut it out. "It's done," he whispered to himself. "So long ago."

He reopened his eyes, hoping to find himself where he'd fallen asleep. Instead he found himself standing on Satellite Five. His lips touched Rose's and he could feel the power flowing from her to him, the Time Vortex eating him alive. They broke apart and he felt the entire floor shift under them. She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. "You were supposed to save me," she whispered and the floor dissolved under her.

She fell and he screamed her name.

Rose heard him call out from the kitchen. She'd stepped out of the room only moments before to refresh her cup of tea and give Jackie an update – not that there really was one – when the Doctor's horse, pain-filled scream tore through the flat. She didn't know she could run so fast as she seemed to materialize in the room, the mug of tea dropped to the floor in her haste.

The Doctor was sitting straight up in bed, hand stretched out in front of him like he was grabbing at something. His whole body shook and his breathing was hitched.

"Doctor?" Rose called hesitantly.

He turned frantic eyes to her and the chill that had settled in the pit of her stomach when he'd called out turned to ice. He dropped his arm down to his side. "Rose?"

She crossed the distance between them and took his hand in her own. "Yeah, it's me. You okay?"

He clung to her like his life depended on it. He wasn't content with just her hand, but instead latched onto her arm and held tight, all the while murmuring half coherently. Heat radiated off of him. "A dream. It was just a dream. You're here. You're alive. I saved you."

"What? 'course I'm here. Why wouldn't I be here?" She stroked his hair soothingly as he clung to her. "What'd you dream about?"

"The war. The Time War. And then it shifted to the satellite last Christmas."

"I still don't remember much of that," Rose admitted softly. "What happened? You called my name."

"Everything was like it happened, but then you fell. I couldn't reach you. I couldn't save you." He choked back what sounded like a sob and Rose placed a reassuring kiss on the top of his head.

"You saved my life," she whispered, bits of memories playing in her mind's eye. She remembered the heat from the Time Vortex and soft lips against her own, tugging the heat away. It was strange, she thought that maybe she'd dreamt it then, but in that moment she was sure that he'd saved her. There really had never been a question, but she finally allowed herself to think about it. "It's okay. You saved me."

The Doctor felt his pretty blonde companion wrap an arm around him and hold him close. He didn't seem to have control over the rush of emotions as he sobbed into her shoulder. They sat there for several long moments before she shifted, never really releasing him, and laid down with him in the bed. "This okay?" she murmured and he nodded against her.

"Fantastic," he managed sleepily and she couldn't help but smile.

Time Lords were not a race that slept as often as Humans, so the fact that the Doctor had slept nearly three days straight with only the occasional, semi-coherent moments of wakefulness had put him into one of the most energetic moods Rose had ever seen. She couldn't complain that he'd taken to her in the way he had during his battle against the Curse, but she would have liked to have a bit more time like that without the life-threatening situation.

He was ready to go by the beginning of the fourth day. He bounded all over her mother's flat, rattling on about various places he thought they should go without taking a breath. He stopped, finally, and turned to Rose as she let out a loud sneeze. "What was that?"

"A sneeze."

"Obviously. Why?"

"What? I'm not allowed to sneeze?"

"Oh! You've gone and given her some weird alien disease!" Jackie howled.

"I told you," the Doctor grumbled. "It only affects my race, and since I'm the last, it only affects me. There is no way that I could have given it to her!"

"Yeah, mum. It was just a-" Her sentence was interrupted by an other sneeze, much louder than the first.

"Right," the Doctor said, nodding. "To bed with you."

"'m not sick!"

He reached forward and cupped her cheek. "Burnin' up, actually." A wide grin full of mischief crossed his face. "Looks like it's my turn to play nursemaid."

A/N: I'm rather addicted to reviews. Please feed the addiction =D

TS