Disclaimer: Doctor Who is the property of the BBC, and no infringement is intended.
Author's Note: Thank you, as always, to Sonic Jules for encouragement and support.
Watching some episodes from the first season again made me feel a bit nostalgic for Nine, so here he is...
She was sitting on the jump seat reading a magazine when she heard the deep, rending groan. Rose looked up immediately to see the lights flickering and fading to a sickly grayish-green. The ship shuddered, but it was not the wrenching jolt of dematerialization or landing. This was more like a shiver, and it accompanied another agonized metallic moan.
"Doctor!" she cried, "what's goin' on?"
The Time Lord's close-cropped head popped up from beneath the open grating on the floor. "Oh, this isn't good," he replied, his expression somber.
"What? What is it?" Even she could sense that something was terribly wrong with the TARDIS.
He'd sprung to his feet and was now running his hands gently over the console. He paused every few seconds to press a palm more firmly against the vibrating surface, and two or three times he leaned in closely, listening intently. Then he studied two of the screens and tapped at several buttons. His frown deepened with each passing moment.
Rose had gotten up to stand beside him as he worked. She rested a tentative hand against the console, feeling the unsteady, arrhythmic quivering. Something was very wrong with the ship; even her untrained senses could feel the entity's growing distress.
"What can I do?" she asked softly.
The Doctor's head shot up at her question. "Nothing," he replied curtly. "This's all on me."
"What's the matter with her?"
"Vitamin deficiency," he said succinctly. "At least that's the nearest equivalent I can give you in terms you'll understand. She's run low on cochlolinite."
"That's some sort of mineral?"
He nodded. "She only uses a small amount, but she needs it to operate smoothly. I've let it run low—idiot, me." He looked utterly miserable. "Usually needs replacing about once per century, an' I just replaced it seventy years ago. But extreme stress can deplete it faster, an' I should've realized…"
She placed her hand over his arm. "So we'll just get some more."
He shook his head in mild annoyance. "It's not that easy, Rose. This's a rare element, available on only a handful of planets."
"But we can go anywhere, right?"
"Normally, yes, but the ship's weak now, an' she's gonna have trouble breaking out of temporal orbit. In this state, there's a good chance we'd break up in the effort."
Rose's heart beat just a little faster. "You don't have any tucked away, hidin' in a bin somewhere?" she asked hesitantly. If he did, she was sure he'd have thought of it.
He frown deepened almost impossibly, then suddenly his mouth quirked into a smile. "Brilliant you are, Rose Tyler! What'd I say about only taking the best?"
She was still trying to think of a response when he took her arms and gently pushed her out of the way. She watched as he bent to peer at a small indentation on the side of the console. He poked at it with a finger then reached into his pocket for the sonic screwdriver. He wriggled the instrument a bit until it clicked into the little hole then switched it on.
"Come on," he murmured, his thumb caressing the edge of the console. "Extract it… just pull out what you need."
The ship juddered, and for one instant the lights flickered off. Then the normal illumination returned, and the pained hum ceased. The Doctor grinned up at Rose.
"You had some of that cocolite in the sonic screwdriver?" she asked.
"Cochlolinite," he corrected, but not unkindly. "Just a tiny bit, really, but it should be enough to get us out of the Void and to a place where we can get more."
He stood quickly and began pulling levers and twisting knobs. The TARDIS lurched abruptly, nearly throwing Rose to the floor. They dematerialized with a thud, and then the lights dimmed to a distant glow.
"She's conserving power," he said, "waiting 'til we get outside, then she'll power down 'til we return with the cochlolinite."
His eyes were moving rapidly over the view screen even as his fingers typed at one of the keyboards. A hint of a scowl returned to haunt his brow.
"Make that 'I'," he said.
"Huh? What about your eye?"
"No, Rose, I mean I'm going out to get us the cochlolinite; you're staying in here."
Now it was her turn to frown. "No, I wanna come with you."
He turned the screen toward her and pointed. "You don't wanna go out in that."
She could see snow swirling in the foreground and a steel grey sky above. "So I'll wear a coat."
"No." His tone was resolute.
"Bad weather's never stopped me before—"
"It's not just the weather," he interjected. "This planet's hostile; it's not safe for you out there."
"Don't be daft! It can't be any worse than facin' the Gelth or Slytheen—"
"It is," he said summarily. He placed his hands on her shoulders. "Stay here, Rose. Please."
"For how long?"
"Long as it takes." At her questioning look, he added, "Which should probably be less than an hour."
He walked down the ramp and opened the doors. She was close at his heels. The frigid air hit her like a slap in the face. She blinked. "Where're you goin'? How far'll you have to go?" she asked.
He was squinting through the snow. "I see smoke—looks less than two kilometers away. I should be able to reach the village in about twenty minutes. So I'll be back in an hour, hour-and-a-half, tops."
"An' if you're not?"
"I will be. Stay here, Rose. Don't open the doors for anyone but me."
She could see the determination in his face. There was a little glint of fear in his eyes, too. He really was concerned about her well-being, and she knew he wouldn't back down.
"Fine," she said, although her voice expressed her displeasure. "Anythin' in particular you want me to do while I'm waitin'?"
"Make tea—lots of it, an' make it hot. I'll need it when I get back."
She nodded. "Be careful."
He gave her hand a quick squeeze then stepped out the door.
Rose watched him walk away on the view screen. He was hunched over, keeping his head down against the arctic wind. He looked miserable. She wished she'd told him to take a heavy coat; his leather jacket surely wouldn't offer much protection from the freezing air and icy snow. He had only gone a dozen meters. It wasn't too late to run after him.
She hurried to the wardrobe room and found a warm overcoat and woolen gloves. She grabbed a fur-lined cloak for herself then ran back to the console room. She wrapped herself in the cloak and draped the coat over her arm then stepped outside.
The wind was strong and even colder than she'd anticipated. If she'd had more time, she would have changed into something warmer than her short denim skirt, jumper, and tights, but she wouldn't be outside long. She could see the Doctor's dark form ahead, and if she set a good pace she could catch up to him in just a few minutes. …
She tried calling to him, but her loudest shout was carried away in the rush of wind. She strode forward purposefully, and soon she was approaching him. "Doctor!" she cried again.
He turned around, and for a moment she was utterly confused. She saw a bearded man staring back at her. He was about the same height as the Doctor, but he was much burlier, and he wore a thick fur coat. A dark cap was pulled over his head, mimicking the Time Lord's short hair from a distance.
"Oh," she exclaimed. "Sorry! I thought you were someone else—" She looked to the left and right, but she couldn't see the Doctor. Where had he gone?
The man was walking toward her with heavy yet fast steps. The closer he got, the bigger she realized he was. Now she wondered how she could have mistaken him for the Doctor. His gaze was fixed on her.
Instinctively, she began to back away. "I'm lookin' for—" she began.
"Woman!" he shouted, his deep, gruff voice rumbling through the wind. His stride seemed to double in length.
Rose turned and began to run. She had gone only a few meters when his hand wrapped around her arm. His grip was like iron, and she was unable to tug or twist away from him.
"Let me go!" she demanded.
"Woman!" he repeated, and then his massive arms wrapped around her waist and he hoisted her over his shoulder. The coat fell from her hands.
Her head hung over his chest, and her feet dangled against his back. She kicked and pummeled him with her fists, but he seemed oblivious to the blows. He was walking again, and the arm he'd clamped over her back tightened.
Rose could barely breathe beneath the unrelenting press of his steely forearm. She gasped for air, struggling ineffectually against the forced constriction of her lungs. Finally her fists unclenched and her hands swung limply as consciousness slipped away.
To be continued...