The shriek shocked her from oblivion. It was one which reverberated in your own lungs, around your ribs, and toyed with your heart, sending fast, cold jolts through it. For a moment she could only see the dark and forgot the body next to her, the noise, herself, to a second of overwhelming confusion. But she caught the moonlight spattered on the sheets, making them something more beautiful, and the body drawn up beside her was remembered, and that scream. She could see the wide, whites of his eyes staring into it, whatever monster or demon plagued his mind; she could see his hair, falling greasy and lank into those brown eyes; and she could see his thin, hollow frame, white as ivory in the moon. His chest rose and fell rapidly. The last echo of his cry tumbled from his lip.
'Doctor,' she said, pulling him tight to her. His skin was cold beside hers. He let her pull him, like a rag doll, and kept his eyes ever-fixed on the air before him. 'Shh,' she whispered, her soft fingers stroking his shoulder, tracing little shapes, brushing like wind through grass. She closed her eyes and imagined he were alright. But she felt him flinch beside her, shift away, then the pressure of his skin on hers was alleviated, and when she opened her eyes the room was empty, and the sheets beside her were empty too, empty in their chaotic, empty pile.
It had been two years since their final adventure, two years of plodding along, working out how you can go back when you know what's out there. It was easier for her – she'd done it all before. For him it was unimaginable, and the horrors of a thousand years unsupportable to a little, breakable human body.
She'd said that she wouldn't cry again, but the tears came before she could stop them. Her sobs heaved through the night, clashed against the thick, dull walls and bounced back to her, drowning, drowning... She let them. It had been a long day and she was tired, and he was tired and ill and whatever he was, so she cried, with the sparks of moonlight in her golden hair. But it subsided soon.
Rose stood, picked up her dressing gown from the floor, where he had thrown it, and went to the window. The sky was the true black of the countryside, with a hundred thousand stars fluttering above. But her eyes withdrew quickly, for neither of them could bear to look at the stars anymore. So she cast them back to the ground, and saw his tall, thin shadow precisely where she knew it would be. She felt a deep ache bubbling up from the pit of her stomach, to her breast, catching in her throat and causing little, crystal beads to resurface in the corner of her eyes. He was her doctor, and he stood in the middle of her parent's garden in a t-shirt and pyjama trousers like a madman. But this madman didn't seem so magical anymore, but fragile, and cold on an autumn night.
Quietly, she went out to meet him.
Outside her bare feet were chilled by the grass, but it felt good to be free of the heavy walls and out, with the chill catching her senses, awakening her. Her steps were light and soft, scarcely making a rustle in the dead silence, broken only by a faint nightingale's whistle somewhere out in the expansive grounds of her dad's mansion. It was not long before she could make out his silhouette, crouched on the ground, staring intently at the small, throbbing green light before him. She could go no further. Something in her throat caught.
'Doctor,' she said firmly, seeming to break the quiet truce of the night, 'come to bed.' He did not turn. 'Please,' she added quietly, reluctantly, forcing the word from her full lips.
'In a second,' he murmured, never looking at her, 'I promise, in a moment.'
Rose opened her mouth to say something, to let the words spill from her that would make it all better, that would bring out his lop-sided grin and light swagger and maniacal, brilliant eyes, but nothing would do it. And she was half way back to the house before the simmering despair overwhelmed her, pressing her throat until she spun around to him.
'Is this not enough, Doctor, me and you, forever?' she asked, her low notes echoing through the trees as she fought to steady the tremor in her voice. His back remained to her. She stalked forward, her yellow hair billowing around her head like a real goddess under the stars, lit by the moon and ferociously beautiful in the dim night. She stopped a foot short of him. 'Talk to me. I need you to talk to me. I don't unders-'
'Neither do I,' he said slowly, standing up, twirling, hands in pockets like an imitation of a vague, warm memory. 'But I need this coral to grow, and I need to get out of here.' He looked at her for a very long time, and did not blink.
'You do. So you're just going to leave me again, right?' she couldn't hide her shuddering voice anymore as it grew louder; she didn't want to. 'You're going to run off on your adventures and leave me to pick up the pieces of this crappy human life? You claim it's so great to be human, but you can't do it. You don't want it. SO JUST LEAVE ME AGAIN!'
'Again?' He was aghast, his brow furrowed. 'I didn't leave you, Rose, he did. I suppose he thought I'd be enough, well, I know he did. But I'm not, am I? I'll never be him.'
'Well, I'm clearly not enough for you!' she cried, quickly brushing away a rogue tear. His expression softened, his thin lips hung limp.
'This lifetime isn't enough for me,' he said, despairingly running his hands through his hair. 'I was going to live forever. I'm ready for forever.' His breath grew short. His eyes widened. 'I can't die, Rose, I can't die.' His hands clapped around his mouth as tears tumbled from his eyes and his knees gave way, sending him to a heap on the ground. 'I need to get away. I can't wait here to die. I can't die.'
Rose rushed forward, silent tears blurring the pathetic silhouette before her, and held him tight. She stroked the strands of brown hair as he sobbed against her stomach, his frame heaving. The night and the stars and the grass dissolved. There was nothing but their tears and their bodies, clinging so desperately together that her nails dug into the back of his neck.
'I know, I know' she whispered as he shuddered against her. 'It's going to be ok.' His eyes were clamped tight, wrapped in another world of epic miseries she supposed she could scarcely comprehend.
'I need you to look after me,' he sobbed, his tear-tracks staining her gown like shards of a diamond.
'I will,' she said, casting her eyes now over the dark abyss before them and cradling his head tighter. 'I'll teach you how to do it – be human.' He looked up at her then, his eyes wide with wonder as if he were not ancient at all. 'Now, come on.'
He stood slowly, their arms gripped together, and when he was upright they remembered times long ago in a different universe. He gently extended his head down to hers, and it was with a light, fragile touch that she grazed his cheek, sticky with tears. But he kissed her harder, holding her as close as she could be, willing her to be closer, needing to be lost in her. She still cried little tears that he pushed away with quick, absorbing kisses.
'Rose Tyler, I love you.'
