TO DO IS TO LEARN
" . . . You know, I'm really glad he just came out and told us."
The Doctor didn't look up at Rose. He continued entering in the commands to the Tyler estate into the console with a blank expression. At least, it would have appeared to be blank to anyone else. Rose, however, could see the anger and disappointment he was carefully trying to mask.
"You could have gone easier on him, you know," she continued, earning herself a glance. She saw a hint of annoyance and more importantly, guilt, hidden behind his facade. She tried again. "Less yelling, maybe? He was only trying to be honest."
"'Better to ask forgiveness than permission.' Is that our new family motto?" he replied coldly.
Rose rolled her eyes, quickly becoming irritated with his rigidness. "No, but it's not 'an eye for an eye' either. If we do this your way, all he's going to learn from this is to hide things from us. That's not the kind of relationship I want with our son."
The Doctor's face fell into a frown and he walked around to put the time rotor between himself and Rose, but she followed him. She placed her hand over his before he could enter in the final commands and gently guided them away from the console. "Doctor, I know you don't want that either. So don't send him away because of one mistake."
"Two weeks at your parents' isn't sending him away. It's grounding him," he responded and it sounded like a lecture.
Rose bristled at the way he spoke to her but kept herself from shouting in return. "Most parents ground their kids by sending them to their rooms, taking away their toys and the telly. Not by sending them away from their home."
"Most parents don't have to deal with teenagers who sneak out to meet girls while on other planets."
"He says he met her after sneaking out," she defended.
"Am I the only one who's paying attention? You just used to the words 'sneaking out.' I think that makes when he decided to stay with a girl all night a moot point."
Rose threw her hands up in exasperation. "I'm not saying he did nothing wrong. I was just as upset and scared today as you were, so don't act like you're the only parent in the room."
The Doctor looked at her wearily, the fight draining from him. "Rose, that's not what I'm saying."
"Then listen to what I'm saying," she continued, remaining resolute despite his submission, "He came home. He told us what he'd done and he said he was sorry and if you had been paying any attention at all, you would have seen that too. But instead you yelled at him and sent him away. What happens the next time he screws up? And he will, it just so happens to be what teenagers do. What if he doesn't feel safe enough to tell us anything from now on? How safe do you think you'll be able to keep the TARDIS then?"
The Doctor sank into the pilot's seat, bending forward so that his elbows rested on his knees. "What do you want me to do, Rose?"
She joined him, sitting down with a sigh. "Well, for starters, you could go talk to him," she answered.
"He snuck out and betrayed our trust. You want me to just ignore that?"
"No. But you've already made sure he knows what he did wrong. Now you need to listen to his side of things."
"How do you know how to do this?" he asked quietly, finally sitting up to look at her.
"What do you mean?" Rose asked.
The Doctor studied the ground, working out how verbalize his thoughts. He had always thought his years with Susan would prepare him for a life of raising a family in the TARDIS, but this life with Rose was so far removed from whoever he had been back then that sometimes it was hard to remember what it had been like all those years ago.
When he did speak, his words were slow and careful, with an evident amount of grief. "I've always known what to do for them, what to give them, and what to teach them. But this? Rose, I don't know how to do this part."
Rose's mouth curved up into a small but warm-hearted smile. "Yes you do," she said, giving his slouched shoulder a playful nudge with her own.
"Hardly," the Doctor snorted, but Rose persisted.
"Do you remember when we found that girl possessed by the Ice-ulus-" Rose waved her hand in the air, trying to find the word.
"Isolus," he finished for her.
"Right," she continued, "do you remember what you did? I mean, it was hurting people, kidnapping other children. It could have taken the whole world if you hadn't stopped it, but still you took the time to sympathize with it. You saw a child that needed your help more than your punishment."
The Doctor slumped backwards into the seat, crossing his arms over his chest. "I really botched this one up, didn't I?"
Rose couldn't help a small laugh at his forlorn expression. "Not too terribly. You should have heard the words my mum shouted at me the first time she caught me sneaking out."
"Oh?" he asked, perking up a bit, "Sneak out a lot, did you?"
Rose frowned and stood, walking over to the TARDIS console. "Just once . . . or twice. Wasn't like I made a habit of it," she answered offhandedly as she copied her husband's custom of distracting herself by fidgeting with the controls.
"Ah, now I get it," the Doctor said, propping his feat up on the console and giving her a smug smile. "Like mother, like son, eh?" he teased.
But Rose didn't smile back. "It's not like that."
"Oh, come on, you can tell me. And I promise not to tell the kids," he vowed while placing his hand over his heart. But as the seconds ticked on by and she didn't join in on his new playful mood, the Doctor's smile fell away. "What is it?"
She moved to stand closer to him again, leaning against where his feet met the console. "I know the difference between coming home with nothing to hide and coming home when I can't say a word. No matter how much I want to."
And now it all made sense. He so often played the good cop, usually melting any time someone uttered the words "Please Dad?," much to Rose's chagrin. In many ways he was the provider and educator; he flew the TARDIS and most of the time succeeded in staying away from trouble. But in this regard, Rose was far better than himself. All his knowledge of time and space didn't compare to Rose's inherent ability to empathize with their very human children.
"Okay, you win. I'll go talk to him," he said as he stood and placed a kiss against her temple. "And thank you," he added when he pulled away.
Rose shrugged and gave a dismissive, sad laugh, "You're thanking me for being a scallie?"
"I suppose I am," he answered, "But really, I'm thanking you for understanding what I can't."
"Don't thank me for that," Rose admonished, "Between getting all my savings stolen and not speaking to my mum for months, I'm just afraid of him making the same mistakes I did at his age."
"I think we're a long ways from having to worry about that," the Doctor said, giving her hand one last soothing squeeze before heading for the hallway entrance that would lead to their son's room. "And if it's any consolation, he's more likely to make my mistakes than yours," he wisecracked over his shoulder as he turned the corner.
Rose hugged her arms around herself as she whispered into the now empty room, "I'm afraid of that, too."