Here's a Ten/Rose short story, and I swear that I don't usually ship these two. I really don't but things like this happen when you read too much Ten/Rose fluff and smut. It happens. So here's to the soppiest, most melodramatic piece I have ever done. There's a bit of everything in this one.
Enjoy!
The war rages around them, everywhere fire rages. The air is filled with the mind shredding screams. The children run – eyes white with fear. The soul withers to witness this; it cries - even the soul of a time lord that has seen everything, the passing of the new, the passing of the old – the very, very old. Even such a soul can break. Each war he sees ages him a little more on the inside. Makes the pain new, adds more destitute pieces to the mosaic of memories he has inside. But he doesn't let it get him down, doesn't let it affect him. It's just fuel to save them, to save all of them. To make sure that everyone lives. Even though everyone doesn't, even though most die at times, but he goes on, because one life saved can be good enough – just as good as a million or five thousand.
Rose is terrified by it, she isn't hiding it well today - and as they run, her grasp on the Doctor's hand slackens. He crushes her hand, until the pressure snaps her back, "Rose, don't look …. Just run… " She's been with him, it might seem like an eternity, but the sounds and the air and everything else is getting to her.
The ground is reverberating, with gunfire and the air reeks of something chemical, and iron; sweetness cutting through the deluge of disorder - odd and distinctly ominous. Far away, in the jungles of the Far East, monstrous plants resembling the fly-trap children of a dandelion and a harlequin orchid, pump mind-altering toxins into the air, bringing the nervous system to a grinding halt through a haze of paranoia, and the fearful promise of hatred. They've been genetically altered by a faction of the planet government that wants to get rid of the fair, counsel style democracy. Even in the fallen state the flowers are in, they are still beautiful. They're captivating and stunning at the same time. The corrupt government faction is put away safely in their sky ship with their own supple of clean breathing air.
"You had no right to propagate those things – it's against intergalactic law!" He thunders at the officials, and they barely glance at him. He bristles with a particular kind of disdain, and peppery hostility.
They look bored with him because the wars on, and there's no way a skinny man in a pinstripe suit is going to stop it.
"Do You Know Who I am?" He says - the authority, and anger and the 'I dare you' quantity all strong in the question.
They still look bored.
"I'm the Doctor. They call me the oncoming storm, the legend. I'm a time lord." The shadows play on his features, making his eyes more dark, more prominent. Rose's on a lower level, helping the people out - the mind control on them broken.
A man steps from out a hidden door. "They won't listen to you Doctor, they can't see you."
"Who're you!" The Doctor demands, he twists his mouth. His stance is forbidding while the government man is relaxed.
The man laughs easily, madness mild, but plain in him, "Chester Reagan Five, Scientist, and mad man – you're too late." He's killed everyone who had been plotting with him, in cold blood.
"It's never too late." The doctor intones. But sometimes it is. And he knows that. The effects of the fear, hate inducing pheromones might have taken hold of the population already. The most he can do is shut down the signal that's making them mutate, He's already disabled the mind control on the officers that work the stations. Now he has to get past this mad man.
The Doctor sonics the devices that are placed in the fours corners of the room, the workers get up from their tasks as if waking from a dream. And look around drowsily.
"Get out!" He shouts at them urgently, "Go!" They run, grabbing cloaks, and heading for the elevators down.
The man hasn't moved.
"It's done already, the airs been saturated with the poison, they'll kill each other, and I wouldn't have had to get a single drop of blood on my hands – Marvelous, just fitting, watch how they run like mad cows, like viper snakes in a pit – This is your humanity that you love so much, can you watch it?" The government man looks the doctor dead in the eye.
"You sicken me," The doctor spits, dark, lightly bushed brows arching dangerously, "You are not fit to even breath another day, but I can't kill you, I won't – there's worse things than death, much worse." He breathes the last word – feet apart, facing him, like he faced the daleks. This man is puny compared to what they could do, but just as mad in his self delusions. The man lunges at the Doctor and claws at his face in an attempt to distract him and grab a weapon from under the desk the Doctor's hip is leaned against. He leaned himself there during the little speech.
"Have to come better than that if you want to kill a time lord." The doctor dangles the weapon distastefully and drops the blaster in a pocket. It sinks away – pockets bigger on the inside. The man inches away from him, slowly. The Doctor sweeps his hands up and touches the man's temples lightly in one fluid decisive movement. The man drops to his knees and keens.
"That's it, that's what it's like Chester, that's what pain feels like." The Timelord whispers darkly - vengeful. Chester wasn't always a mad man, wasn't always clamoring to possess power. It grew into him, he supposes, and as it grew, he lost his empathy. He forgot what pain felt like. Now, he remembers and it's every where - in every corner of his head, in every shadow, in every sick twisted dream of his.
His eyes wide, he looks like he's been kicked hard in the stomach - dry heaving.
The doctor kneels, and takes it back, and Chester deflates like a hot air balloon when the rides over but removes the man's memories up to a certain point. Chester won't be able to create monstrosities ever again. He won't even know what bases make up a strand of DNA.
He sonics the door at the end of the corridor, Rose rejoins him, breathless and pink.
"Everyone's out on the flight deck, like you said." She smiles at him adoringly. And his hearts melt.
She reaches for his hand, he holds on hers. Like Brother and sister, like soul mates.
They step in, and the sight is grotesque, there's an eerie, harsh, ultraviolet glow that pervades the darkness. Machines dial and beep and churn away - making calculations, and receiving information, and sending it out condensed into convenient signals that constantly communicate. Thick cords of wires like spilt innards snake every where, and eventually circle and cross into the main feature of the room -the source of the despair. The ceiling tall master plant that was mutated and connected to all these machine and computers - huge and sicky yellow, with splotches of night dirt and blood, a purple cast to the base. This one didn't release the chemicals, rather it was engineered as a cyborg, to be powerful enough to transmit gamma waves and other signals to make the other wild plants mutate.
"This is it… this is the master plant…. It's the one thats sending out the million gamma waves that are unlocking codons and mutating those plant orchid things, it's the transmitter…" The Doctor takes out his black framed spectacles and put them on, peering at the impressive, set up. He's stands like a child in front it for a moment - entranced - whistles low. It's running with a dark energy, crackles with it. At the base of the plant are dark pods, and the Doctor steps over the tanglements to get to one, and sonic it. The petal over it slides back and reveals something unsettling - a white fleshed body immersed in liquid. It's a woman, and her face is reposed in a peaceful expression. The doctor feels sick to his stomach, and steps over to another and sonics it as well, and then another and realises they're all the same.
This plant is feeding on humans - processing their minds, and emotions and souls - leeching on their humanity.
They can't be saved because they've already been integrated too far into the plant. Soon, he theorized the plant would start to digest the bodies as well, after there was nothing left of their psyches. He rolls up a sleeve and plunges it in the liquid, even if it burns, and feels just to be sure he's right. He runs his fingers along organic tubes that run from the bottom of the pod into their backs, and he feels it morph smoothly, fusing with innocent human flesh at the heart, the lungs and several other places.
Rose trembles behind him, "Are they? Can you?"
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," He says more to them, than to Rose. He runs his hand through his long, brown hair, disturbed - eyes wide and skin pale, shaking his head, "I can't do anything for them, it's too late for them."
Rose puts her hands around him, and he turns, hugs her hard - reassuring himself with her warmth, and pink and yellow humanness. He releases her, breaking the comforting contact and runs, looking for strategic points on the plant and the machinery.
"Take these, and put them on the very base, where the off shot flowers are…" She obeyed, doing it as quickly as she could. Both of them moving, as fast as they could, in the hope that maybe, just maybe the few precious seconds would mean something.
Someone's sanity,
Someone's life.
Rose scampers around, doing as he has asked, not staring at the monstrosity - just moving,"Doctor, after this I'm not touching another house plant ever." She tries a light comment to ease the atmosphere, and the Doctor rewards her with a small smile and an ear tug, and she turns to slap another round, nearly smooth disk in place at the base.
"Oh, and now you understand why I won't ever keep a cat around the TARDIS, a dog sure, or a Quicksilver Unistar from Cyrian, those are almost like dragons, but not quite... they're more like horses actually..."
"Let's go see them when we're done here." She gives a cheeky smile meant to ward off uncertainty. The Doctor grins back, that ineffable twitch that Rose loves so much about this body of his. His lips soft and pretty. They would be fine, she decided.
She didn't hear or see the vines extending to her from the quiet, still blossom behind her. She only felt them when they whipped her hair mockingly. She stepped back abruptly, fell back and simultaneously let out a scream, "Doctor!"His head jerked up to see the thick, green vines reach for Rose hungrily, and wrap around her body, trailing upwards, and then she screamed again, sharper this time. They moved rapidly, within seconds, to crisscross her like bondage restraints - around her wrists, her ankles, across her stomoch.
Rose's face contorts, and the Doctor takes her face in both his hands."Doctor, it's got me – there's something in my back."
Her voice frightened.
The Doctor holds her, vines and all, round her back with one arm, and feels it with the other. His hands encounter the vine that has embedded its head in the base of her neck.
"Doctor, I'm tired… I can't feel my legs…" Her voice is dying, "I ... can't…" Her lid's flutter, and close.
"Shhhh..." He hushes her, "It's just a botanic cyborg neural spike, nothing my sonic screw driver can't fix."
He's lying because his sonic screw driver can't do wood, but he scans anyway and reads it. And its like he's afraid it'll be - integrating with her with a speedy vengeance. He can't remove it from her without paralyzing her or worse.
He turns his face to the plant and shouts with dark petulance, brows arched "Let her go!"
The plant stays silent.
"Just give me a moment…" He says loudly and rakes his hand through his hair in a frantic gesture." Think, think Theta, think! I'm not nine hundred and seven years for nothing – there has to be a way!"
The panic in his chest blossoms ten fold, spikes of the blinding emotion piercing both his hearts, like someone had smashed thorny rose garlands around them. The Doctor fights to push the blinding emotion down. Panic fades and fear flows in to replace it. There's a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomoch and he mentally counts the number of times he's been wrong and the tally comes up to be painfully small. He doesn't want to be right - at least - not - now.
If the plant does not let go of Rose Tyler on it's own accord, then it's the end.
Of her, of him.
Why can't he be wrong just this once?
"There must be a setting on this dodgy sonic screw driver of mine - one thousand five settings ... cupboards, and locks, computers, and not a one for freak neural spikes!"
There isn't one. He knew that.
He rocks Rose's body - trying to feel for her mind - faint.
He's always right - burden of a Timelord.
Galifrey gone - burnt
Nothing to do except watch.
Nothing but this frail, humane life about to be snuffed - the only thing that would make his hearts stop.
"Let her go!" he screams, face twisted, "She's just a girl yet, she's got her whole life ahead. So many things to do - so much to see..."
His voice echoes in the dimly lit space.
"Let her go," and his voice breaks this time.
He sinks to the ground with his pink and yellow human in his arms. Rose opens her eyes. They glow blue.
"We must do what we must." It intones.
"You don't have to… You have a consciousness – you can stop." The time lord urges, eyes locked on hers, pushing his psychic aura at it.
"We do not have any concept of 'Stop', we do not have 'choice' – we do what is 'want of us." It replies sadly, "We do what we must."
"I can help you! Set you free. I won't destroy you...I'll find a way!" Determination is creeping back into his voice, and the set of his features. He'll rethink a way, now that he's come in contact with its intelligence. He's clever, he's the best. He knows it, and the universe knows it and he'll prove it again.
"Help," it sighs, "We have no concept of that either, nor 'freedom' – we only do what we were created to do."
The doctor looks so torn, and feels so helpless at its answer, it asks, "Why?"
"Because she means something me…" He replies quietly.
"What does she mean to you?" It asks again – wanting to understand.
"She means… she means everything to me… because I... I…" The time lord stumbles on his words for once, which is a contrast to his usual mouthy, wordy chatter.
The vine embedded in her neck falls out, barb and all, before he can complete his answer. "We do not know why, but we cannot stop, we must do what we must do – Stop."
The note in the mental voice is sad and it begs, "We cannot stop."
The Doctor brushes back Rose's hair and he understands, so he can't save everything. It's a lesson that he seems to have to learn over and over. The universe's way of pegging him down a notch.
He finishes with the last pulse device and sets it off with his sonic device. The electromagnetic pulse that is generated is strong and kills the machinery.
The plant is dying since it no longer has a life support system to keep its complex, altered systems going. The doctor looks at it, and does a scan with his sonic screw driver - an idea is slowly forming in his mind.
"No, leave us…" Come the whisper, "We are dying, let us go in peace – you have your 'everything'- go."
"I'm sorry." His eyes glisten a little.
Not everyone is saved.
Rose is still unconscious, so the Doctor carries her. The air is clearing, and he expects a bit of windy weather would help things along. He's set it up already – because he is clever like that - it isn't hard to do. But not everything is as easy as stimulating the movement of gases in an atmosphere. Some things can't be fixed, and he remembers another friend. It's funny that it's occurred to him. His old friend, slash nemesis – the master - all gone with Galifrey.
He shakes the memory away and studies Rose. Dear, sweet Rose – all life and youth.
She reminds him that he's still got a few tricks up his sleeves. She grew on him so much. He would do anything for her now.
Rose wakes up.
Rose looks around, and staggers, "Rose? Steady Rose …. Look at me!" But her eyes keep rolling to the side, "Rose look at me! That's it, can you walk? It's not far… the TARDIS is right around that corner." He braces her with an arm. Rose is still out of it and the Doctor worries that she might have some neural damage. There's still fighting, and running, and screaming. It's still loud, but more and more as they go, people were coming to their senses.
A man is standing though and cursing, and hitting a woman. Someone breaks them apart.
"Nothing's changed," Rose cries suddenly, "We didn't save any."
"No, we did, that's just the neurotoxin that's getting to you …. That's all… we saved lots today Rose," He crushes her against his thin chest, "The air will clear completely in a few hours and the chaos will end, this planet will recover, life goes on." The wind gusted, frilling her blonde hair and his brown. His coat whipped with the motion of air.
He held her at arms length and gripped her shoulders, so she was aware of him, and him alone, "You trust me, don't you?"
She wipes her face, "Yes, yes I do."
He gives her a big wonky smile then, and pulls her by the hand and they run, and run until they're collapsed over the thresh hold of the TARDIS.
He draws her close and gives her a peck on the lips – a light, feather touch, and she smiles, "I must be dying, if you just did what I think you just did."
"Humans, always joking about death like that, when you've only got one life… and you weren't even close- you know cats on Atrex actually have five lives, not nine though like they like to say one earth," he rambles.
She shut him up then, she shut him up good.
She kept shutting him up till they got to the captain's seat.
"I really ... have to …. get to the … ummmm…" He stammered hot under the collar, pulling back, pointing to the console with a long arm.
She let him go, "Oh, get on with it then."
He put them into the vortex. They went back to what they were doing.
I swear again, I did not mean to end the story with fluff - I actually intended this to be angst through and through but I couldn't do it. Not to poor ten.
So rate and review. Drop me a comment, drop me a flame - drop anything really. I'll take it all.
A/N Thank you Teddybearbones for the constructive reviews! I took them into consideration and made some changes :)