The Observation Room
By Holdur
doctorwho100 fic
Prompt: Star
Notes: 9/Rose the same way RTD writes 9/Rose, which is to hint around and do nothing.
"Rose."
Rose always thinks it's odd that she can sleep through her mother banging pots and pans over her head and all the Doctor has to do to wake her is crouch down by her bed and whisper her name.
"Rose, wake up." Sleep is still near enough that she doesn't want to give in, so she rolls over and clutches at her pillow.
"You promised," she says into the mattress.
"I know I promised you could sleep, but I want to show you something and if you don't get up now we'll miss it."
"Doctor, we're in a time machine."
He doesn't rise to the bait, so she knows that when she opens her eyes he'll be quiet and solemn. He wants company without words.
She half expects him to take her hand and tug her out of bed, but when she finally opens her eyes and sits up, he is at her door. He is keeping his distance. It's a bit of a shock, because suddenly Rose wants him to grab her hand and bounce off the walls and drag her to whatever is so important she had to wake up for it.
He doesn't. Instead, he leads a few steps ahead and Rose trails behind, teeth worrying away her lower lip as she tries to estimate how long she was asleep and how long he was alone and how far he went without her. From what she has seen so far, it has been long enough for him to get lost in the silence in his head.
They arrive at an open door and the Doctor manages to guide her into the middle of the room without actually giving her any indication of what he wishes her to do. While she waits, he pokes at a panel by the door with the sonic screwdriver and then she hears a muffled curse and the solid thunk of his fist against the wall. The room around her flickers twice and disappears.
It is with a feeling of intense pride that Rose manages to stay on her feet when the TARDIS plunks her into space without so much as a by- your- leave.
"Observation Room," the Doctor says as he walks to her side, "Easiest way to get a front row seat."
"Of what?" Rose asks. She can't bring herself to look. Standing in the middle of space is making her feel faint. The Doctor looks out to whatever he wanted to show her and drinks it in.
"The star is dying." His voice is quiet and Rose can barely force herself to listen without turning away. "The legends say that it was so old and so beautiful that the gods themselves couldn't bear to watch it burn."
Rose sneaks a look. The star is sitting in front of her, so close she thinks that she can touch it, red and yellow and purple and he's right, it is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen.
The star shrinks suddenly and then expands to white light that hurts her eyes, then dims to bright greens and blues and yellows laced with gold and silver. Rose looks over to check on the Doctor because fifteen minutes ago he was lost inside his own head. She watches the colours play across his face, more captivating than the actual star swirling around her. His eyes are fixed into space, taking in every detail of the explosion and memorizing it. His mouth twists like he's trying for a smile because he knows she's watching, but can't get it past whatever he is thinking. She is about to reach out to him when he hunches his shoulders and crosses his arms, warning her off.
She recoils, hands held close to her chest as if cold.
Maybe she's tired and maybe it's the Doctor watching the destruction like it's the most important thing in the whole of time and space, but Rose starts sobbing. For the first time in her life, she goes from feeling slightly melancholy to bawling without any intermediary steps. It's the sort of crying that she desperately tries to control but can't. She ends up with one hand over her mouth and the other on her stomach and the frantic knowledge that if she doesn't stop soon, she's going to be sick.
When she realizes that the Doctor is watching her she tries to wave him off with one hand but he catches it and holds on when she tries to pull away, even though a minute ago she knew he didn't want to be touched. She gives in, letting him lace his fingers through hers, and slowly her sobs become manageable tears.
He doesn't ask why she is crying. He doesn't offer words of comfort. He holds her hand and lets her lean into his shoulder and when she falls asleep on her feet he carries her back to bed.