The Doctor and Rose were in the midst of something extraordinary and unusual. They were sitting in an Indian restaurant in London, simply eating lunch.
While Rose was never keen on staying at home for long, she was usually willing to hang about her mum's flat while she did her washing. But not today. The drastic contrast between her world and that other place was focusing in on her. Pete, dad, not dad. Mum, not mum. Rose Tyler the terrier. Most of all, Mickey. She wasn't sure if she should scream, cry, break something… so she was absently picking at her vindaloo.
"Moping won't do, will it? Time to travel. Yep. Time to go." The Doctor's faux excitement roused only a sigh in reply.
"I dunno. Don't fancy an adventure this moment. Mum's not even done the whites yet."
"Well," the Doctor entreated, "I think I know the perfect spot. Sort of a Zen spa place. Does wonders, so the brochures claim. Quite liked it myself, other than the trouser thing…" His eyes wandered off into a tortured squint. "Oh! But that's what thermal jim jams are for!"
"Maybe later, right?"
The Doctor's wild-eyed pitch fell flat. His face shifted, showing sincere, albeit frustrated, concern. "We're going, you need this."
Rose would have been exasperated if she had the willpower. "Fine, but I want to be back by the time my socks are done."
The old Time Lord lit up like Christmas. "Easier than you think!"
Back at the TARDIS, Rose began to liven up a bit. "I could go for a little peace right now. In fact, I think I'd quite like that."
That was enough to send the Doctor speeding across the console for take off. He was a bit overexcited for someone headed to a "Zen spa thing," but Rose was still game.
With the usual unceremonious thud, they landed. Instantly, the Doctor bolted for the wardrobe room. Rose followed him slowly, and with an air of expectant confusion.
"Where exactly are we?"
"Oh. Did I forget to tell you?" She could hear the clatter of boxes, hangers, and other odds and ends that crashed with a frightful sound.
"Yes. Yes you did," she softly smiled at him.
He popped up to attention. "Paxementii, so it's called, orbiting Sirius, Canis Major." He dove back into the closet without stopping for breath, terribly determined to find whatever he sought. A shoebox promptly fell, knocking him on head, and he landed flat on his bum.
"Y'alright in there?" She couldn't help chuckling at the absurdity.
"Sure, right." Straightening himself back out, he picked up the offending carton and examined the contents. "No wonder," he gave his scalp a rub, "porcelain's heavy."
"What are you on about now?"
"See!" He grinned, presenting a beautifully ornate teacup. "Got it at a lovely garden party held by a certain Mrs. Bonaparte. Nearly got nicked there. I think that's where this 'allons-y' business came from…"
Smirking, with her trademark tongue tip, came Rose's first twinkle since they left the other London. "Now and again, I wonder if you're really just some sort of space nutter. What're you after anyway?"
"Thermal jim jams. Can't well relax half-frozen." He found his prize, and snatched a similar set for Rose. "Also, be mindful that you keep to the assigned program. There are dozens, and you don't want to end up spending the whole trip in primal scream therapy."
Rose worriedly toyed with her hair. "You think I need therapy? Do you even believe…"
"Sorry, no, no, no." He nipped that idea quickly. "It's a kind of complete individual… thing. Body, mind, spirit-y… thing."
"And why would you be frozen again?"
"The uniforms are a bit drafty. Modest and comfortable, but drafty. You'll see."
Snatching his coat, he bounced for the door. "Come on, no check-in after 10 AM."
Rose grabbed her rucksack and followed. But the Doctor couldn't help but notice she had bundled an old jumper of Mickey's into her bag. Sure, she was hurting, but he did not fancy the idea of her dragging mementos everywhere like a worry stone.
They stepped out into a world that was a Japanese watercolour come alive. Misty mountains, weeping trees, and a quiet stream greeted them. The energetic alien took Rose by the hand as he skipped towards… enlightenment?
"Used to come here all the time. Ages since I've been though." His tone drifted somewhere distant, and he deliberately cut himself off before distance became melancholy. Rose sensed that his mood was turning, and she wished knew why. He still kept many doors shut, and decided it was best not to ask.
The gate opened to a willow-lined courtyard. As they approached, the concierge greeted them at the lobby doorframe with a serene smile. "We welcome you to the Springs of Harmony." The slender figure was distinctly feminine and very human in appearance. Until a closer examination, that is. Her skin was translucent, coloured like the inside of a shell. She had lavender eyes, and silver toned hair. The complete image gave her a peculiar tranquility, utterly alien and soothing. Their race staffed the facility exclusively, and added to the simple artistry.
They were led into the dormitory area, which surprised Rose.
"I don't mean to be rude, but shouldn't we have full suites or somethin' at a place like this?"
The concierge glanced at the Doctor, and then she calmly explained the situation. "I very much apologize if you were not made aware of our accommodations details. We have private rooms for sleeping purposes only. The rest is part of your cleansing process."
"But these walls, they're made of paper, right?"
"That is correct."
"I can hear everythin' people are doin'?!"
"Why yes, but your sleeping area should be used for sleeping and for private mediation. You should not be at all disturbed by our other guests."
While she had never had a remarkably private life, Rose was not sure if she was ready to have her every move so easily monitored. Nor was she sure that she wanted to know what everyone else was up to in the middle of the night. But she had seen enough couples arrive to inspire a sudden attack of shyness.
Rose nervously nodded in agreement, and rolled her eyes at the slightly amused Doctor. "In for a penny, in for a pound," she muttered under her breath.
They had found their rooms, directly across from each other in the middle of a long corridor. "Now please do enjoy, and take this opportunity to change into your program garments and review your program details. Your exercises will begin shortly." The concierge politely backed away, as Rose immediately began to inspect her quarters.
"It's the size of a cupboard. Great." She looked at her mat, which was basically a nicely presented small futon on the floor, and saw her "garments." "This can't be serious," she chuckled.
"Oh yes, quite so too." The Doctor slid her door open, and he was set to go. The uniform was a simple tunic-length top that was designed like a dressing gown, and huge flowing drawstring pants. "Don't forget these if you need them," tossing the smaller sized pair of thermals her way. "Time to get going; we don't want to be late."
"We re-doing a samurai movie?"
"Nope, your dreams of 'Blondes with Bokken' will have to wait. What's first on the list? Ah yes." He pulled out a card with the day's exercises. First, a one hour herb and oil massage, a light cleansing meal, a full body mineral cleanse, then streaming…" Trailing off, he looked a bit worried.
While he had hoped to cure Rose of her melancholy, he was no longer sure that this was the right move. The process sounded lovely in name, but it was brutally intense. Not at all relaxing. Every trauma is brought through, streaming out like an unseen beam of light towards the sky. Afterwards, participants are meant to feel a supreme sense of peace and cleansing, but that can be a bit dodgy. He had succumbed to baleful tears after each visit since the Time War. The healing came afterward.
"What's streaming? What's wrong with it?"
"Well, nothing, it's just the psychological, emotional cleansing part of the program." He used his best blasé tone to put her at ease, but he knew what was coming. And he hoped it wasn't too much. "After that, another two massages, breathing techniques, then private meditation and bed. Shouldn't be too bad, right?"
"Lemme change and we're off." She almost sounded cheery.
The first few hours were the most relaxing of Rose's life. She was pampered like an empress. The massage was not was she had expected. Herbs from all over the galaxy were used, and the masseur's technique was so exquisite that she was nearly catatonic. Then, she was brought back to a small dining hall looking over a simple garden. And four plates full of aromatic vegetables and fruits that she had never seen before were placed in front of her. And Mr. Smiley came waltzing over to her table.
"Hmm, I think I need to do this more often. Or we, we need to do this more often. Yes. Aren't you gonna eat that?"
"It's sky blue. Just a bit weird lookin' for me."
"Oh just try it. All of the foods served here are one hundred percent natural and guaranteed to help you physiologically maintain your newly relaxed mood."
She gingerly began nibbling at different pieces in front of her. Her brown eyes bulged with each taste. "Omigosh, these are amazing!" She made short shrift of each plate, while her companion smiled on.
"Nice work there, I don't think I have ever seen a woman eat a meal that quickly."
"Oi!" she smacked him on the hand, they kept giggling on through the meal "period."
The guides escorted the group to a beautiful terrace positioned past the garden near the dining hall. Mats were carefully positioned for each guest, and they all settled in for the streaming exercise. Surrounding the grid, large incense burners lined the square, with a small riser at the front for the guides. Six guides positioned themselves around the group. Standing at one cauldron each, there were two and the front and back, with one on the left right. They looked like bizarre pearlescent statuary, elegant and serene in the midst of this peaceful dreamscape.
The leader, or presumably the leader, glided to the front of the gathering. "Now we are preparing for your streaming exercise. The purpose of streaming is to allow your mind and soul to cleanse itself of strong negativity. Please remember to close your eyes and focus on your breathing. Follow your thoughts and emotions. You may feel an array of emotions, but if you are able to remain focused, you will be able to identify and purge your spirit. Once we have lit the cauldrons, please deeply inhale the incense and your process can begin."
The Doctor made sure that he was directly behind Rose. He chose to forgo any personal revelation; Rose was going to need him. Hopefully, she could make it to the finish.
The sounds of the river and trees were the only audible noise as the guides circled the group and lit the cauldrons. Rose closed her eyes and began to breath deeply and slowly. Before she could settle into a pattern, images began flashing in her mind. The other Jackie hauled off to be turned into a Cyberman. Daleks. Pete Tyler, the success. Pete Tyler, the dying man on the pavement. Creatures, death, explosions, running, panic. Then Mickey. She heard every plea, every smart remark, and felt not only her ebbing feelings for him, but the pain she had inflicted on him. The look on his face when she left him again and again and again. And finally, their last goodbye that did years of friendship and loyalty a bitter injustice. She was unwillingly given an omniscient view of herself, and she was utterly disgusted.
The Doctor knew he could not rush to her at the first signs of turmoil. That defeated the purpose of the exercise. He was trying to gauge how much she could take. Like it or not, he had to try and qualify her misery. She had not wanted any of his comfort thus far, but he wanted to be there to catch her inevitable fall.
At first, she steadily hitched her breath. Then her tears began to flow, and she careened into an unbearable sob. Dutifully, he followed her; he was not going to let her weep alone again.
He followed her cries all the way to her room. He slid the door open slowly, and his hearts nearly broke at the sight of his Rose sprawled on the floor in utter agony.
He took a soft step crouching toward her. "Rose…"
"Please just leave me right now." She choked out each syllable in a muffled staccato. "Nothing to be done. Please."
And she felt the guilt of the universe on her, almost matching his own. Of course, he knew that this was a bad trip of some sort. That's what could happen. But the idea that he couldn't help her made him feel impotent, and he slinked back into his room. For the next hour, he heard every sob and tried to will them all away.
Once Rose collected herself, she knew she had to carry on. If she didn't, she would have put herself through torture for nothing. She followed through with the next step of the program. It was easy for her to find the massage therapy area. The whole treatment was designed for recovery after streaming.
She soaked in an aromatic oil bath, and then another guide brought her to a massage table. This round, she heard sweetly soothing singing everywhere. Her masseuse, who had witnessed her run off, was smiling kindly at her. "You should never be afraid to let go. It is just as harmful to hold onto to self-hatred as it is to hate others. You may have been able to leave that all in the garden, but you still carry it."
"I did something horrible to someone who loved me. It's completely shameful." Rose winced at the idea that she was utterly transparent to this strange creature. Worse, she did not want to be pitied. The lady just smiled as she proceeded to give Rose a cooling facial treatment. "You don't want those tears with you all day. Just let it be."
As she continued to be pampered, she slowly began to feel at ease. Yes, she had left Mickey behind at every turn. She never even thought about it before, and now it had caught up with her. He chose to be in a completely different universe instead of always watching her leave with the Doctor. She took everything about him, her family, and her old life for granted, but she was sorting out her old life's place. It was her old life. Mickey made his choice as she had made hers, and she started to feel at peace with it.
Whilst Rose was coming out of her despair, the Doctor was sinking into a storm of his own doubts.
Once he had left her room, he sat down in the middle of the floor, trying to understand why she had shut him out. As he aimlessly scanned his room, counting every fibre of carpet, the darkness inside him bubbled forth. He catalogued every detail that told his hearts that maybe she had not been his after all. Grinding his teeth, he started muttering a list. "Necklace, always fidgeting with it. A teddy in her bed. Pictures on her walls. Now that damn jumper." She had never shut him out before. Why now? Was she regretting leaving? Was losing Mickey what it took to make her want him again? Wasn't she supposed to be with him now? Was it the way he touched her? Was it the familiarity? Before, when she had done something that upset him, all she had to do was say she was sorry. Apology accepted, time to fix it, move on. But he was not the same man he was then. He knew the darkness could take him. The thought of losing her to a ghost was enough to send him spinning. Worse, it was the thought that she did not want him to hold her hand through the pain for once.
He started rocking like a madman, chewing each fingernail to the nub. Murmuring curses, he continued replaying his worst nightmares for the next several hours.
The Doctor did not see her again until dinner. She looked so relaxed again, like none of the afternoon had happened. But her chocolate eyes were still dim.
She came to him, and they avoided eye contact while they waited for the servers to come around.
"I'm sorry, I just needed to…"
"No matter. I know that I am not a great listener." His response wasn't just cold, it was icy. She saw the void in his eyes, but she could not comprehend why.
"S'not like that, you don't quite understand. I mean, me and Mickey have known each other for years. It's a lot to think--"
"Yep, fair enough." He was not going to let her finish. Worst of all, she didn't see why he was reacting this way. Every thoughtless deed toward friend and family, every stunted visit, it was all because she was with him. And while she regretted hurting other people, she did not regret her choice.
Frustrated, she got up and sat closer to the garden, away from other people and away from him. She couldn't even tell if he had seen where she'd gone. Sod this, she thought, and she quickly ate and marched back to her room.
After some time, who knew how long, Rose got up, determined to settle this insanity. She carefully slid the Doctor's door open. He was sitting straight up, cross-legged, back to the door, staring straight ahead. She got up the nerve to call his tantrum out.
She had to muster a strong sounding whisper, or else, she might wake the whole place if she shouted like she had wanted. "Look, that whole streaming thing was way more than I had ever thought a 'relaxing' trip could bring up. I am knackered in every way possible, and I was honest with you. Now you act like this? What's wrong with you?"
"Let's start with you being the poor penitent girlfriend," he hissed back. "After all of your protests, your chances to turn back, you have been with me for how long now? And now you are shattered because you might have done the idiot some damage? Now?!?!"
"You. Shut. Up." She didn't think she could be angry with the Doctor, much less furious. "That's unfair."
"Really now? So unfair? You wouldn't even let me get you a tissue earlier, now I am the one pushing you away?" Every word became a bit more vengeful.
"I chose you. Never looked back, still haven't. Only owned up to how I have cocked up every other relationship in my life. And it's worth it to me, and I thought it was to you too." She turned away. She didn't want to disturb the entire dormitory and she did not want him to see her cry. The salty burn hit her eyes like fire, but she held it all back. In a matter of hours, he turned from her healer to her punisher without explanation.
She stood there, refusing to acknowledge the tears running down her face. Clutching the doorframe for strength, she waited for him to come down from his rage.
Sitting there, the Doctor could feel the pain emanating from his companion. The crimson fog in his mind parted, washed away by sorrow and regret. How easily those two emotions came to him now. "Rose?" A shamed voice croaked. "You there?" She had forced him to be honest, and now all he could feel was that shame. He couldn't even raise his head to see if she was still there. "I'm not good at this, but I do not want to hurt you ever," he murmured.
"I know that." Her tone was forgiving and calm, which made him want to hide all the more.
He saw her shadow move closer to him. Now his voice didn't waver or falter. "I have not let myself get close to anyone or anything in a very long time, and I am out of practice. Never dealt well with it, and so on. I…"
Without another breath, he felt her arms around him. He was still staring at the mat between his crossed legs, but he could feel her warmth. Slowly, he raised his back to lean it back against her shoulder. She softly ran her hand through his hair, watching the shadows clear from his face.
He nuzzled her neck, and whispered, "I am so sorry." Finally, he got up the nerve to hold her properly. They sat in silence, listening to each other breathe. There had been more than enough words that day. Eventually, exhaustion caught up with them. Nestling into the rather small mat, the Doctor curled his arms around his Rose as she fell to sleep.
Finally, they had found some peace.
They did not leave each other's arms that night, or any night thereafter.