Title: Bed of Lies
Summary: "And just like me/You've got needs/And they're only a whisper away" There was always a hidden fallout, as the Doctor learns. (Post ep to The Satan Pit)
Category: Angst
Author's Notes: Inspired by watching The Satan Pit in an angsty mood. It happens. +shrugs+ My first attempt at anything of this sort, so feedback is especially appreciated. Many thanks to Luna Lovegood5 for her wonderful beta skills, and to Mr.FireSign for being a nag.
The epigraph comes from the song "Bed of Lies" by Matchbox Twenty. I always thought they'd make a good inspiration for an angst-ridden Doctor/Rose hookup. Alas, that was beyond my capabilities.
And at the risk of sounding like an obnoxious nag myself, there really is no greater joy than feedback. Please, do be honest. I'm one of those twits who sees writing as an artistic endeavour, and I'm a perfectionist. Pretty hard to be perfect if nobody will tell you what's wrong, right?
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, which is probably a good thing. Otherwise, there probably would have been some not-so-subtle follow-ups to story lines. What can I say, I love the angst.
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Just like me you got needs No I would not sleep in this bed of lies
And they're only a whisper away
And we softly surrender
To these lives that we've tendered away
So toss me out and turn in
And there'll be no rest for these tired eyes
I'm marking it down to learning
I am
-:-:-:-:-:-
Had he realized Rose was in there, he would never have gone in. But that hardly excused what happened after. She had been so happy to see him when she boarded the TARDIS he hadn't questioned the events leading up to their reunion. She had left the planet, and that gave him the chance to do what needed to be done to defeat the Beast.
Beautiful in its simplicity.
So when she said she was going to take a nap, he'd shrugged, asked where she wanted to go next and focused on his controls.
Anywhere but here.
Her usual response, said with a bit of a laugh. It was normal.
And so he never questioned it.
He set their course, went into the kitchen and made popcorn. Ate what he could, reminded himself that they had defeated the beast, then made his way to the nearest bathroom for some floss. Damn kernels had a thing for those hard to reach places.
He didn't even notice the shower was running until he saw the fogged mirror. He doubted she'd notice he was there at all, but he was still quiet as he opened the cabinet and grabbed the floss. Then he heard the stifled sob.
There were few sounds in the universe he hated more.
"Rose?" he asked gently, slowly approaching the shower stall. "Rose, are you alright?"
There was no answer, and he debated for a moment. She probably just wanted him to leave, but she'd never been afraid to tell him so before. In fact, she was quite good at yelling it at him if need be. And the fact she hadn't this time worried him.
"Rose, answer me."
There was no keeping the concern out of his voice this time.
Another sob made up his mind. He pulled the frosted glass door back slowly, keeping his eyes at face level. There was no need to complicate manners.
She wasn't there.
He glanced down, and saw Rose sitting on the floor of the shower stall, knees pulled up to her chest and a face red from crying.
"Rose?"
No response, so he knelt down and touched her shoulder.
"Rose? What's the matter?"
He was aware of his hair getting wet, but it was a secondary concern.
"Rose," he said again, coming closer. "Can I help?"
She shook her head and sniffed loudly.
"It's nothing."
He gave a strangled laugh before he could stop himself.
"I doubt that very much."
"They made me leave."
Whatever it was he expected, it hadn't been a blurted confession that told him nothing.
"What?"
"They made me leave you. And then-" the rest was another harsh sob. Without warning, she flung herself into his lap.
"Oh, Rose," he murmured into her hair. "You had to go. Okay? I know that."
"But-"
"No buts," he said.
She began to cry again, wild angry sobs of genuine despair. He could do nothing but hold her, stroking her hair and rocking back and forth to comfort her.
After a few minutes she tried to speak again, but her voice was nearly gone. He caught bits and pieces through her sobs that had faded into quiet hiccoughs.
"Made me leave...dead...it's stupid...promised...and he said... Toby...and I grabbed...said I'd die..."
"Hey now. I told you; you're not going to die."
"But he said..."
"I promise you, Rose Tyler. You. Will. Not. Die. Not until you're an old lady, at least," he said. She gave a small laugh, burrowing her head into his chest.
"It could be like Titanic."
"I always wanted to die at sea," he joked.
Another weak laugh, but at least it was a step in the right direction.
"Now, anything else you want to tell me?"
Trying oh-so-desperately to keep it light. Because he can do light. He can do rude. But in the face of distress, he's pretty much useless.
"Why'd you say my name?"
And any chance this had of ending well flew out the window.
She was still in his lap, with the stupid shower spraying them and steaming up the mirrors that had started the whole thing. And for once, he was speechless.
There were answers to the question, some honest and some not. He just wasn't sure he wanted to know which was which. And he was afraid he did.
"I... you -" He's cut off from further ramblings by her lips, hot and slick against his.
He pulls her closer before he can question himself, slips his tongue into her open mouth. It's a desperate kiss, and he needs to touch more skin. To trail his fingers along the inside of her thigh, to feed off her responses.
Her moan snaps him back to reality, and he pulls away.
"No, Rose," he manages.
There are a million reasons why this is a bad idea, but he can't explain them to her because he expects that she would counter his every argument, and that would just lead them down a very dangerous path. One he isn't willing to take.
She doesn't argue, just stands up and shuts the shower off. Climbs out of the stall, grabs a towel and dries off. Never so much as glances in his direction or acknowledges his presence. She looks dead, and the Doctor wishes he could change that.
The Valiant Child.
But he doesn't know how, so he climbs out and heads for his room, his suit leaving a wet path behind him.
He remembers later a phenomena Jack had called Cold Comfort. He had said that humans had conquered outer space through sex not because of some deep seated desire to procreate, but because it was the only way they knew how to cope with their rapidly expanding world view. It was a declaration of defiance, the ultimate "fuck you" to the universe. Proof that they were still alive.
Jack had been surprisingly observant when drunk.
He wasn't sure if he liked that explanation or not.
Later, she joins him in the control room. She avoids looking him in the eye, and for a moment he wonders if he did the right thing. He knows it would have been easy to lose himself in her, and that's enough to convince him it was the right decision.
He would still give his left arm to change it.
He sighs, hits a button and asks her where she wants to go.
Anywhere but here.
She even manages a small laugh, however fake they both know it is.
And for now, that's the closest he's going to get to normal.
And so he doesn't challenge it.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Don't you know I feel the darkness closing in No I would not sleep in this bed of lies
Tried to be more than me
And I gave till it all went away
And we've only surrendered
To the worst part of these winters we've made
So toss me out and turn in
And there'll be no rest for these tired eyes
I'm marking it down to learning
I am
