His heart (one, just one) clenched as he saw her eyeing him like he was a museum piece or a freak of nature, which in truth, he felt he really was.
In the hotel that night, lying stiffly in one of the twin beds, he listened to Rose's breathing and wondered if she was sleeping. And if she wasn't, was it his presence in the room that was keeping her awake?
Her silent appraisals of him throughout the day when she thought he wasn't looking seemed to mark her discomfort at him being around; being The Doctor but not. How she could possibly relax enough to sleep with him so close to her?
It seemed odd to settle into a bed that wasn't gently dipping and swaying through the Time Vortex. The quiet of the room, no humming to lull him to sleep made every noise seem so much louder. He glanced over at Rose, her back turned to him and tried not to think of that as rejection, but the worry that he would never be good enough overwhelmed him and he couldn't get settled enough to follow her into dreamland.
Assuming the same position as the slumbering woman, on his side but facing her, watching her in the darkness he willed himself to breath steadily and not let the rising panic he felt overwhelm him.
It was no use, he rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Holding his hands up to this face he studied them. To be called into existence by a strange accident, as a fully grown adult, his mind crammed with another being's memories was a bizarre way to start life.
He felt raw all over, unused to this human body its ways strange to him even though this was the only body he would ever know. Placing his hand on his chest he felt the single heart beating against his palm and wondered if he would ever be comfortable in this strange form.
He shifted again, arms up over his head gripping the bedposts as he tried to stop his mind and let the peaceful oblivion of sleep wash his cares away.
He had almost succeeded through sheer might of his will when he heard Rose stirring. A brief flash of guilt hit him, had his restless movements woken her? Had he made a noise that called her from her sleep?
Trying to remain as still as possible, he closed his eyes pretending to be asleep as she half sat up to regard him silently.
He heard her chuckle softly, "if you're going to play possum, you need to let up on the death grip you have on the bed first, otherwise it's not really very convincing."
He opened his eyes, and met hers, "did I wake you?
"I wasn't really asleep," she admitted turning on the light on the bed stand.
"If my presence is keeping you awake, I can go someplace else so you can get some rest," he offered.
"You are the reason I'm not sleeping," she smiled.
He threw back the covers and started to get out of the bed, only to be suddenly joined by Rose on the narrow mattress, "scoot over," she bumped her hip against his.
He slid over, plastering himself against the wall his arms folded across his chest defensively.
"All these years," she breathed into his ear, as she threw one arm and a leg across his body, "I've wondered what it would be like to be with The Doctor," she stopped and raised herself up, "hmmm...you'll need a name of your own now. What should we call you?"
Puzzled by her trying to climb on top of him and now her quick change of subject he just stared at her. She brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes, "The Doctor, well the other one, liked 'John Smith', maybe we should call you that?"
"Works for me," he agreed, still wondering what this was all leading to.
Rose grinned, holding out her hand, "I'm Rose Tyler, John Smith, nice to meet you."
He reached up and took her hand in his shaking it briefly before letting it go.
This seemed to amuse her and she laughed heartily before growing serious once more. She shifted until she was almost laying on top of him, "if you'd prefer this bed to your own," he offered, "we could switch."
Bending her head down she got in a mere breath away from his lips, "only if you're in it," she rasped before covering his mouth with hers.