This is another one of my Alternatives stories, this time, for after the one way conversation between Rose and the Doctor about living together if they can't get the TARDIS back. No matter what anyone says to me, I cannot see how that conversation between both of them was fluffy, cute, both ways, or beneficial for the Doctor's health. It felt more to me that Rose was telling him exactly how they were going to live and he damn well better like it.
In which the Doctor thinks of Rose and how she reminds him of the lost Time Lords.
Impossible Things
He couldn't do it.
No matter how much it might have put a smile to Rose's face to talk of living with him and having a house with doors and carpets and a mortgage, and living with him not being bad, he couldn't do it. His little 'yeah' in reply to everything she had said had her angry. She had thumped her hand down on the table, practically glared at him and barked out a loud 'Yes!'
She just...didn't understand.
That kind of life he'd never be able to have. There was no settling down for him, even if he had wanted to. Without the TARDIS he'd be nothing, and bad company besides. As he had told her before her happy little blind talk of her perfect life with him, he would rather die. Die! Did she just magically leave that part of what he had said out? Because it definitely seemed so to him.
For that matter, if Rose was as controlling of him as he was beginning to suspect (why it had taken him so long, he had no idea) she was the least likely person he'd want to stay with. Yet he couldn't seem to not do whatever she says.
He missed it. His people used to be like her. Controlling his life, sometimes his very existence, with little to no care for what he might want. No wonder she was still around, especially after things like her jealousy at finding out other people had travelled with him. Something of which should have been a definite given to begin with.
It was stupid of him, since he had hated how his people thought they could rule him. But it was familiar and somewhat a comfort. Maybe he hadn't realised he had missed their meddling with his life as much as he must, to be looking for someone to do that to him again now that they were gone.
He buried his head in his hands and sighed loudly, drawing Rose's attention in the small bunkroom they were to stay in together until either he found the TARDIS or they got off this world and to another more stable one.
"Come on, it'll be fine. Just stick with me and you'll be alright. No worries. Yeah?"
He sighed, and nodded, adding on another "Yeah," in response, and hoping it wasn't said too dejectedly for her.
She nodded, smiled widely at him, got out of the chair she was in at the small desk, and climbed the ladder to the top bunk she had taken for hers.
That was Rose alright, must be on top of everything.
Especially him.
He couldn't even think of that in a sexual way. It made him shudder, though he was anticipating the time that Rose would jump him for it. He knew she'd try, and probably soon. He could smell her all too human desire for him.
The sexual act would reaffirm everything for her. She would have complete control. The last thing he wanted to do was to give away the last things he had left that weren't hers. His body and hearts.
He was afraid she already owned everything else. Including whatever soul he may possess.
Why else would he miss her? Why else would he crave her existence? Why else would he let her treat him the way she did?
Oh, he knew that last one...
He felt he needed the punishment.
And punishment it was.
If he couldn't get the TARDIS back, that was it. He'd find himself some matches or something and set Rose's cosy vision alight, with him inside. Death by fire sounded about right. He'd die the same way his people did. Well, the ones he had killed anyway.
Rose never needed to know.
He'd make damn sure she didn't take his death away from him.