"Rose! Hold on!"
Overwhelming fear and panic flooded through the Doctor, a combination of his emotions and Rose's that left him feeling dizzy and nauseated. Rose cried out sharply and the Doctor whimpered, feeling the aches and pains in her shoulders and arms as she tried to resist the forceful pull of the Void. His muscles throbbed in sympathy, and his fierce protectiveness of her raged through him. His bond mate should not be in pain, and every cell in his body screamed for him to fix it and make it better. But he couldn't; he was useless, holding onto his magna-clamp for dear life while watching Rose struggle to maintain her grip on her lever.
"Hold on!" he screamed, his voice cracking.
He could feel Rose attempting to push through the panic to soothe him. He was enveloped by the warmth of her mental presence, and he couldn't help but nuzzle into it and take comfort from her. That was so Rose, thinking of him even when she was the one in mortal peril.
She'd always been so patient and kind with him even when he didn't deserve it. She stayed with him even after he regenerated, and helped him learn and adjust to his new body while she herself readjusted to him. She was more than he ever thought possible, and he didn't deserve her, he never had. And yet he married her, and bonded with her.
When he'd bonded with Rose nearly three months ago after their horrific adventure on an impossible planet, he'd melded their minds together, like stitching together a piece of fabric. They were still their own entity with their own minds, but they were now forever, irrevocably, entwined. To lose a bond mate, either through death or to the Void, would sever the connection they had. If Rose was lost to the Void, the stitching would tear, leaving them both with jagged, painful edges. He knew it was a risk, bonding with Rose; he was opened up completely to her, and was left vulnerable to the fate of the universe. He never dreamed he would lose her so soon. He'd planned on having forever, his forever, no less, ever since he realized her cells weren't decaying.
By all appearances, she was the same, physiologically, since the day she opened the heart of the TARDIS. It was only at the molecular cellular level that the true differences could be seen. Her cells were rejuvenating themselves much more efficiently than a human's cells were capable of, and her DNA wasn't degrading.
He'd been fearful that she would resent him, or his ship, for extending her life like this without her permission. He'd learned that the TARDIS had tied Rose's life span to Herself ever since She gave Rose a piece of Her heart to keep, no matter how thoroughly the Doctor claimed to have taken it from Rose. It wasn't something for him to take.
Many rows and misunderstandings had happened between them until he finally told her the full story of her aging (or lack thereof), and she reassured him that she loved him unconditionally, whether they had decades or centuries together.
However, it now seemed that seventy-three days, nine hours, fifty-seven minutes, and eleven…twelve…thirteen seconds were all that they could have together. He'd finally allowed himself to hope that the universe was being kind to him for once, and now he was about to lose everything he loved.
Stop it.
The Doctor roused himself from the dark path he'd wandered down upon sensing the emotional hurt and pain coming from his bond mate.
No regrets. You promised me, Doctor. Please don't regret what we have together.
Rose was clinging to her lever with just her fingertips, her eyes clenched tightly shut in fear and from exertion. He forced himself to push away his guilt, self-loathing, and wallowing (there would be enough time for that later he told himself bitterly, as he watched her fingertips slip further and further off the lever) and instead projected his undying love and devotion towards her.
Flickers of images and scenes raced through his mind as he wracked his brain with how to save her. He saw various timelines, timelines where she fell into the Void, and where she was caught by Pete and taken to the parallel world, and where she found the strength to hold on long enough to stay in this universe with him. He was desperately wishing for the last one, and try as he might, he couldn't tell which timeline was their true one. Time was in a state of flux, and there were any number of ways the day could end.
Rose's panic suddenly escalated, knocking the breath from his lungs and causing his muscles to nearly unclench from his hold on his clamp.
Doctor! I'm gonna fall!
No, you're not! C'mon Rose. Just hold on! Please, love. Please. I can't lose you.
Tears blurred his vision as he reached for his bond mate, swaddling her in comfort and love even as he watched her fingertips slipping, slipping, slipping…
It was almost an unconscious act when the Doctor tuned into his time senses. He could feel the turn of the Earth, and the passing of time, ticking down the milliseconds…microseconds…nanoseconds he had left with his bond mate. He willed it all to slow down, to give him more time with his beloved.
Doctor, wha…?
Rose's voice felt sluggish and faded in his mind before becoming a faint, discordant buzz. He looked around wildly, terrified that something had happened to her without him realizing. But Rose was frozen in midair, her muscles locked, her fingertips just barely touching the grip of her lever.
No. Wait. No frozen, just slowed.
AHA!
The Doctor tuned in to his sense of time, and realized he'd slowed it around himself. He'd slowed the turning of the Earth, and without the angular momentum of the planet's orbit, the force of the Void had drastically decreased; it was more like a distant tug rather than a violent suction. He imagined he could let go of his lever and still be all right for a bit.
Rose was trapped outside of his time bubble, still fighting for her life, and failing.
He focused inward on his bond with her, finding that bright splash of gold in the middle of the telepathic centers of his brain. He dug deeper and deeper, infusing her bright golden light with his own silver-white light in order to let her into his slowed-down time stream. He could tell the moment he succeeded, because his bond with her sharpened into full clarity.
Grab on!
He watched as Rose looked around in confusion and he panicked as he felt his grasp on time slipping. Already the pull from the Void as getting stronger again, and soon it would be back with a vengeance.
Rose, now!
The Doctor watched her fingers scramble to find a better grip on her lever. He nearly sobbed in relief when he saw her hands clamp tightly around the grip, her knuckles going white. Like the snapping of a rubber band, time sped up to normal, and Rose gasped in surprise as the Void pulled on them strongly once more.
Doctor, what happened?
Time Lord trick, he answered vaguely, distracted.
The breach should be closing soon. Though Rose's grip on her lever was renewed, her muscles were exhausted, and he knew she wouldn't be able to hold out for much longer. Finally, he watched the stark whiteness of the Void shimmer and crinkle in on itself, smaller and smaller until it rippled closed.
His feet thudded heavily to the ground. He heard Rose whimper as her muscles gave out and she collapsed on the floor.
"Rose!" the Doctor shouted, leaping on shaking legs to his bond mate.
He crouched down beside her, frantic. His mind was still pulsing with fear and panic as he laid a shaking hand on her shoulder. Rose moaned beneath his touch, but her mind quickly enveloped his as she tried to soothe him. His knees gave out and he fell onto his bum as Rose lifted herself onto her knees.
"Oh, Rose," he whimpered, tugging her into his arms.
He peppered kisses across her face before pressing a lingering kiss to her temple. Their bond sparked and electricity hummed against his lips. He sighed and nuzzled his face into her neck. He inhaled that lovely smell that was purely Rose: cinnamon and vanilla and lavender and time. She smelled like home.
He tightened his hold around her waist, swallowing the sobs building in his chest.
Rose suddenly let out a yelp as she tried to wind her arms around his neck.
"Rose?"
Pain throbbed across their bond.
"My shoulders," she mumbled, wincing as she tried to flex her aching muscles.
"Stop that," he reprimanded softly.
He stood, reluctant to break their embrace, but knowing they needed to get to the TARDIS before UNIT found them here. The Doctor never was one for clean-up. And he wanted to take a look at her shoulders.
"C'mon," he said, offering his hand to help her stand.
Rose looked at it blankly for a moment, before scrambling from her knees and up to her feet.
"My shoulders hurt, Doctor," she reminded him gently when she felt his hurt.
"Right," he said awkwardly, scratching at the back of his neck. "Well, I can fix that in a jiffy! Ooh. Jiffy.Jiiiffyyyy. No. Don't let me say that again."
Rose giggled at him as he exaggerated the motions of his mouth to say the word. She knew he was doing it just to make her smile and to distract her from her pain, and she was grateful. She hugged her arms to her stomach to stabilize her shoulders as she sent him the telepathic equivalent of a hug. He hummed happily and gladly returned it, keeping his telepathic presence closely cuddled to hers as they walked home.
oOoOo
Rose began walking to the infirmary as the Doctor sent them into the Vortex. The ship shuddered slightly, the only indication that they had dematerialized. Rose sent a pulse of gratitude towards the TARDIS for not jostling too much, or for sending her sprawling to the floor. The TARDIS hummed gently in reply.
The Doctor jogged into the med bay lab just as Rose plopped down onto a stool. She was absolutely exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to snuggle next to the Doctor and sleep for hours.
Soon, the Doctor promised, catching her desires.
Rose leaned back in her seat, her eyes fluttering shut as the Doctor scanned her with various tools and instruments.
"You've got some muscle tearing," he finally announced after a few minutes of comfortable silence.
He waved a long, oblong tube across her shoulders and arms that glowed bright blue as he trailed it across her body. Tingling warmth prickled just beneath her skin, and she squirmed reflexively to try and get away from the odd sensation. Finally, the tingling subsided. She still was sore and achy, but the sharp pains were gone.
"Thanks," she said, standing.
She walked over to him, took his tool and set it aside, and lifted her arms to wrap them around his neck. She let out a soft sigh, relieved to be able to hold him. He responded automatically, wrapping his arms around her waist. They stood like that for a very long moment, not speaking, but tightly embraced in both body and mind.
I almost lost you.
They both clutched at each other more tightly as the weight of the day settled on them heavily.
Rose pulled back, and lifted herself onto her toes to press her lips to his. He sighed, opening his mouth to her wandering tongue; her taste mingled with his, and all seemed right in the world. He flicked the tip of his tongue over the sensitive ridges on the roof of her mouth, and delighted in her shudder. She retaliated by knotting her fingers into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp.
He gasped, and his mouth popped away from hers as shivers rippled down his spine. His eyes fluttered shut and he leaned into her touch as her fingers slowed until she was playing with the soft strands of his hair. The Doctor dropped his forehead to rest against hers, pressing hard against her forehead as though he couldn't get close enough.
Rose's knees nearly buckled at the whirlpool of emotions coming from him. Desperation and fear and anxiety mingled with love and gratefulness and lust.
Hey, she said softly, projecting calm comfort through their bond. I'm okay. You're okay. We're okay. I love you.
A strangled moan stuck in his throat, and he pressed his lips frantically to hers once more.
oOoOo
Much later in their bedroom, sated and boneless, the Doctor curled himself around Rose, content to watch her sleep. He watched her eyelids flutter and her eyes flicker beneath closed lids; he watched her hair dance from where it was dangling in front of her parted lips; he watched the steady rise and fall of her bare chest. She was beautiful.
He sighed and snuggled closer to his bond mate, his anxiety from the day still chafing at his mind. Rose's presence was still strong in his mind, despite her being asleep, but it was inactive. He tried to keep himself from reaching for their bond, lest he wake her, but he struggled with his need to hold her as close to him as possible, mentally and physically.
He delicately brushed his mind against hers, softer than a whisper, and was delighted when her unconscious mind tucked his beside hers, like a child cuddling its favorite stuffed animal. He breathed a sigh of contentment, and pressed his lips to her bare shoulder.
For hours, he lay spooned up beside her as she slept. He knew he ought to sleep, but he couldn't seem to shut off his mind long enough to even try to get some rest.
Finally, Rose stirred beside him, letting out a soft grunt as she stretched her muscles.
"Morning," he said tenderly, his heart bursting with love for her as he watched her sleepily roll over to face him. She had day-old makeup crusting around her eyes and pillow creases across her cheek, and yet he'd never seen her look more beautiful.
"I feel gross," she mumbled, resting her cheek against his shoulder and resting her hand over his on his stomach.
"You look beautiful," he assured, pressing his lips to her forehead.
She let out a contented sigh, and the Doctor was sure she was going to drift off to sleep again when panic pulsed across their bond and she stiffened. He was about to ask her what was wrong when a deep sorrow and longing and a sense of loss pierced through her.
Oh.
"I'm sorry about Jackie," he whispered, gathering her close to his chest. "I'm so sorry."
Her anguish faded slightly, only to be replaced by a righteous fury, directed at him. Her anger then receded slightly, overwhelmed by her hurt and confusion, before her anger built up again. Her emotions were changing faster than he could process what she was feeling, and it was giving him a headache. He reached for her and projected waves of calm, but she rolled away from him and pushed away his attempted comfort.
His arms fell limply to his sides and his lungs constricted in his chest as she moved away to sit on the edge of the bed. She rubbed the heels of her hands roughly into her eyes. A tangled web of emotions was coming from her, despite her deepest efforts to mask them from him.
Don't shut me out, he begged, clambering over to her to rest his hand against her shoulder.
Don't, she warned hotly, shrugging away. I'm angry with you.
Hurt seared across their bond from them both.
Yes, I gathered, he said blithely, trying to bury his hurt and confusion. Why?
"You regretted our bond!" she shouted, her head aching too much from their combined maelstrom of emotions to continue to communicate via telepathy. "Forever, Doctor! That's what we promised each other! And yet at the first sign of trouble, you start doubting yourself, doubting us!"
Guilt pulsed across their bond, which only seemed to infuriate her more.
"Rose, wait," he said, trying to soothe her both verbally and mentally. "Just let me explain."
He panicked when he felt her telepathic presence withdraw from where it had been tightly twined with his for the past five and a half hours. He desperately chased after her. He remembered all of the timelines that could have been, including several where he'd lost her and was left with an empty, aching mind. He remembered the moment he'd accidentally slowed time around himself, and he lost Rose's presence for just a moment. Phantom aches stabbed at his mind, and he swallowed a cry as he struggled to keep himself at bay, warring with her need for distance and his need for closeness.
Rose sensed his pain, and her own guilt started replacing her anger.
She sighed, and tentatively reached out for his muted presence at the edge of her consciousness. As soon as he felt the invitation, he melded his mind closely to hers once more. She turned around and wrapped him in her arms, cradling his head against her collarbone.
I'm sorry, she murmured, holding him closely. I'm just… emotional. It's been a long day. I'm sorry. But I'm still mad at you.
Be mad, fine. Just don't shut me out, he pleaded. Don't leave me in here. He tapped at his temple.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, trying to filter through their combined cascade of emotions. "I just need a minute to myself, I think. I'm going to shower. Why don't you make us something to eat?"
The Doctor reluctantly loosened his hold on her.
I love you, she said, sensing that he really needed to hear that. His utter relief confirmed her theory, and she repeated it again. Forever.
She pressed her lips to his forehead, before standing and walking to their en suite.
Rose turned on the water as hot as she could stand before stepping under the spray. She groaned in appreciation as the hot water helped loosen her tight muscles. She stood under the spray for several long minutes, trying to process the day's events. She'd lost her mum, and she hadn't realized just how much that hurt. Then she'd nearly been lost to the Void; she shuddered as she remembered the Doctor's absolute and utter panic compounded with her own when she thought she'd lost her grip. Through their fear, she'd caught a glimpse of regret, sorrow, and bitterness from the Doctor. He'd regretted their bond, their marriage, even if it was for just a second, or just a passing thought. That he'd even entertained that idea sickened her to her core and left her feeling hurt and confused.
Rose?
She hadn't realized how upset she'd gotten; tears mingled with the cascading water, and the Doctor must have picked up on her distress.
Out in a mo'.
She lathered shampoo into her hair and scrubbed soap over her body before hastily washing away the suds.
After hastily drying herself, she donned a pair of knickers and one of his shirts before wrapping herself in a warm, fluffy dressing gown.
The Doctor was waiting for her on their bed, clad in pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, a platter of fruit, toast, and tea resting on his lap. He held out his hand to her and offered a small, reassuring smile.
She sat down on the bed beside him, and though he was trying to give her space, she could still feel his desire to hold her. As angry and hurt as she was, she couldn't deny him her affection, and she scooted closer to him so that her hip was pressed to his, her legs stretched out alongside his. His muscles loosened, and she felt warm contentment pulsing from him.
"Sorry 'bout earlier," she mumbled, picking her toast apart piece by piece.
"Don't be," he said. "As you said, it's been a long day. It's quite alright to get emotional."
She snorted.
"Pot, kettle."
He chuckled softly, and they relapsed into silence. The Doctor ran his thumb along the rim of his mug while Rose continued to mutilate her food rather than eat it.
"I love you," he whispered, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Don't you ever believe for second that I don't. Or that I regret marrying and bonding with you. You are the most important thing in my life, and I could never regret anything between us."
Tears stung at her eyes and she tried to blink them away.
"Then why…?"
The rest of her question got stuck in the lump in her throat.
Earlier, she continued, when I was about to fall, I could feel that you wished you'd never bonded with me. That hurt me, Doctor.
I know, he murmured, resting his head atop of hers. I didn't mean for you to get the feeling that I regretted our bond. Because I don't. I never could. Our bond is the most precious thing to me. I'd been merely cursing the fact that we'd only had it for a short amount of time and we were so close to losing it. And I was thinking forward to what it would be like without you in my mind with me. Losing a bond mate hurts. Excruciatingly. And I was just angry that you would have to feel that pain. You know that I would've stayed with you forever, even if we didn't bond. But you gave this gift to me freely, and it would cause you pain if it broke. I never want you to feel that.
Tears were falling down her cheeks as he spoke. Through their bond, she could feel how earnest and genuine he was being, and she could feel his sorrow and remorse that he'd made her feel like he didn't want her.
I do want you, he said earnestly, catching that rogue thought. Forever. I love you. I love you so much.
He clumsily set their uneaten tray of breakfast on the bedside table in order to pull Rose into his lap. He curled his body around hers and rested his forehead against her temple, projecting his love for her through their bond. He rocked them gently, continuing to tell Rose how much he loved her as she shuddered with sobs in his arms.
Several minutes later, she calmed enough to ask, "So what was it that you did that saved me? One minute I think I'm falling, the next, it's like the Void just…stopped."
"Time Lord trick," he answered into her hair. "You know about my time senses? Well, one of them is the ability to slow down time."
"Slow down time?" Rose asked incredulously.
He nodded and said, "Yep. That's one of the harder ones to master. Even I'm not that proficient with it. But it worked well enough. I didn't even try it; I just wanted more time with you. The next thing I knew, you weren't in my head anymore, and you were frozen in time. So I brought you into my slowed time stream, where the Void wasn't pulling so strongly."
Rose nodded slowly, trying to process what he'd just said. The Doctor wrapped his arms around her more tightly.
"Well," Rose said, keeping her tone light as she tried to forget just how close of a call today had been. "Thanks."
"Always," he whispered, nuzzling into her neck.
The tenor of his thoughts was still melancholic beneath his layer of contentment. Rose gently worked on relieving his lingering stress and anxiety, and was unprepared for the flash of images she saw. She sucked in a breath when she saw visions of the Doctor pressed up against a white wall, utter devastation on his face. Then she saw herself pressed against an identical white wall, tears leaving streaks of mascara across her cheeks. She saw a cold beach and more tears, and a semi-transparent Doctor disappearing from view.
Rose shuddered against the images and pushed them away, focusing on the here and now. They were safe and together, as it was meant to be and would always be.
You can't know that, the Doctor said stubbornly, pressing an openmouthed kiss to her collarbone.
No, Rose allowed. But I do know that I will always do whatever is in my power to stay with you.
Rose could still feel his unease. She had her own, too, and imagined the scars of the day would not be so easily and quickly healed. But they had nothing but time ahead of them, and would work through it, together.
A heavy wave of lethargy suddenly submerged them both.
"Sleep," he murmured, maneuvering them to a supine position.
"You need to sleep, too," Rose argued, fighting to keep her eyes open.
The Doctor hummed noncommittally, and began stroking his fingers through her hair. She exhales softly, feeling her muscles relax further, and wrapped her arm around his waist to cuddle closer. She stroked her fingers across his hip and tried to soothe him enough for him to fall asleep with her.
The TARDIS's hum softened, and Rose felt the ship's comforting presence alongside the Doctor's. Another wave of exhaustion fell over her, and she realized the TARDIS was trying to help them sleep. She mumbled her thanks to the ship when she saw the Doctor's eyelids droop.
"Sleep, love," Rose murmured, running her fingers across his ribs.
Love you, he mumbled thickly, his consciousness clouding and fading until it was an inactive buzz beside hers.
I love you, too, she whispered, before closing her eyes and letting the sounds of the TARDIS lull her to sleep.