woo! a new story!
to be honest with you, i've had this written for a while now, FF has not been allowing me to upload for some unknown reason
next chapter will probably be up soon, as i finished it this morning, but don't hold me to that, cuz it could take a while for me to actually get it onto the site...lol
DISCLAMER: well... what do you think??
anyway, enjoy, review, have a good day lol!
REVIEWS ARE LOVE!!
"You'll grow old… at the same time as me?"
"Together"
Oh how she wished that was true!
"It's not meant to be like this!" Rose tried to shout, but she found her voice oddly hoarse, like she hadn't used it in years.
"I know…" he replied, his voice soft and comforting. His fingers gently stroked her palm, moving in tiny circles. She watched the steady trail of his fingertips, looked at their intertwining hands. Old and young. Still young. Forever. Young.
"You said we'd grow old together… and I believed you… So why this? Why now?" Rose asked, still struggling to handle the truth she had lived with for 20 odd years.
It had all been good, for so long. They had been married for 60 years, happily. Still, sometimes they thought about the original Doctor, both knew they would go back to the stars in a heartbeat, but they couldn't, and they were happy with each other. Both had lived a life neither thought they could ever have. But it was wrong.
"Specifically the aging part… I'll grow old and never regenerate…"
And now Rose sat, while her beloved Doctor lay cold and still by her side. She would stay with him. She knew that. She would stay with him and hold his hand until his last breath left him. Then she would go. Never look back. She was meant to survive whether she liked it or not.
The Doctor could feel his energy disappearing from his body, but at the same time he could see it swirl in his wife. Time. Pure and utter time. It would keep her safe. He only wished he could do the same.
Rose brought their linked hands tenderly to her lips, and brushed some of her warmth onto the Doctor's dying body through his fingers. She was warm… so warm, where he was cold.
It wasn't fair! It wasn't meant to be like this! She was human and he was half – should that mean that she died first?! And yet she lived. Where no human should. She was 83 years old and still looked 23. It was so wrong. She shouldn't have out lived him! Anyone else, fine, but him?!
Tears dropped from her face onto his.
Their life. Their wonderful, happy life. It had started so great, they were so perfect for each other – everyone said so. But then the Doctor began to age, and Rose stood still, captured in time, perfect. People started accusing the Doctor of cradle-snatching more and more over the years, until people would start accusing him of being her father! It got to the point, where they couldn't even defend the relationship any further, and they couldn't tell anyone about their years of marriage. Besides, who would believe her when Rose told people that she had been married to the same man for 40 years, when she only looked half that age herself!
It wasn't fair. They both knew that. When he had told her that he'd grow old, neither suspected for one second that she wouldn't. He had, of course, worked it all out years back, but he wouldn't tell her. He couldn't tell her. It wasn't right. It was just… wrong.
.o0o0o
Rose felt the TARDIS before the sounds of it's engines even reached her ears. Despite the universal retro closure, she had always known he would come, on the day of their joint death, to see them. She knew he would be there to say goodbye.
She wondered if he knew, if he had always known, or if he had worked it out. Maybe he never knew, and to this day, he still didn't know that her life was so far from over.
The Doctor's grip on her hand increased as he realised the his original was on his way. Still, neither could hear the engines, but they knew it would be there in a moment. Both were connected to the machine like that, even though Rose was only just discovering it, she wasn't surprised. Just like she hadn't been surprised when the Doctor had aged, and she hadn't. She supposed, after everything she'd seen, there wasn't much left to surprise her anymore.
As the TARDIS materialised behind her, Rose didn't turn her head, not once did she look away from the man she had spent her life with, and would be leaving shortly to continue. At last, she realised what the Doctor.1 had meant, all that time ago when they had met Sarah-Jane for the first time:
"I don't age. I regenerate. But humans decay… you wither and you die… imagine watching that happen to someone you…"
She had understood what he meant then, but only now could she really imagine what it must be like for him. The lonely traveller. She had understood his loneliness, but only now could she truly feel it for herself. She would be alone, one the Doctor's double had gone. She would be like him. Alone.
The doors of the TARDIS crept open. Rose half-heartedly wondered whether he had changed again, or whether he was still the same man. She decided she didn't mind either way. He was the Doctor, no matter what. Once, she had found that difficult to understand, but now the idea didn't bother her much. Nothing bothered her much anymore.
She felt empty inside. She had felt similar when the Doctor.2 had first been diagnosed with cancer. That feeling of helplessness, coupled with the fear of loosing, the fear of falling.
"We're falling through space, you and me, clinging to this tiny planet… and if we let go…"
She could feel it now. The turn of the Earth, like he had described to her all those years ago. She once thought that time would pass and her memories would fade, but as the Doctor clinged to her hand, all the memories were clearer than they ever had been.
"I can see everything… All that is… all that was… all that ever could be…"
She felt a hand on her shoulder and she didn't look up. She was afraid of the face she would see. Her blond hair, not died, still naturally bold, fell over her face.
"How is he?" the man Rose knew to be the Doctor asked, clearly speaking about the old, frail body in front of them.
He thinks I'm a nurse… Rose thought to herself before replying, "He's alright. Not long left now… but he's hanging on…"
"And how are you?" he asked, so softly Rose couldn't be sure she heard him. His voice sounded the same, and yet slightly different, aged and tied, much like her own. She wondered what losses he had witnessed since leaving her behind.
Rose took a deep breath, before looking up at the man she had once loved. She peered into concerned eyes – his eyes. The same eyes. Yet still, they were so different. The same never-ending age. The same wisdom. Only the Doctor's eyes looked like that. Not even his double, his exact replica – only human – 's eyes had the same wisdom and age as the original. The was less in Rose's Doctor's eyes, and still so much more.
His eyes were green now. He had regenerated. They were the same eyes, though. The same eyes Rose had gazed into when she was 19, only a little greener. A little less brown.
Rose wasn't surprised to find him regenerated. She wasn't surprised to find him changed, and yet still the same. Never surprised. Not anymore. Not ever.
She smiled sadly as her eyes roamed his face, "Ginger," she whispered, the hand that wasn't holding her dying husband's absentmindedly slipping to tangle themselves in the original's slightly longer, slightly floppier, ginger hair.
"Yeah, ginger," he replied with an equally sad smile.
Her hand remained there for a moment, before she let it drop back to her side. Rose sighed, before turning her attention back to her husband.
He may not be the original, Rose thought, but he's mine. And he's gunna be mine until his last breath takes him away from me. And he'll still be mine. And I'll always be his. Always.
Rose didn't say anything and neither did he. Both just watched.
After a while, the Doctor pulled over a chair and sat next to Rose. His Rose. The Rose he gave away… so she could be happy.
She's not old… He had expected them both to be old, but Rose wasn't. He wasn't sure whether he understood that, but he didn't press the matter. He didn't say anything about it at all. Something inside him told him that he should've expected it, or at least considered the possibility, but he hadn't, and he wasn't going to lie to himself or Rose. Not anymore. He had decided that just after he regenerated last.
They both sat in silence. Neither had anything to say. Well, that wasn't strictly true, the Doctor had a thousand things to say, 'I'm sorry' 'I missed you' 'will you come back?' 'did you have a good life?' 'I love you' but he would wait until she was ready before he said anything. He would wait until she was ready.
So he just sat with Rose as they watched his doubleganger sleep.
.o0o0o
"Should've known you would come." An old, tired voice broke the silence. The Doctor looked to himself and a small smile slipped into place on his face as he saw one echoed on the old man's.
"Couldn't stay away," he whispered, "I'm sorry…" he began, but was cut of with a feeble wave of the other Doctor's pale hand.
"Don't be. No regrets! That's what I keep trying to tell everyone, but will they listen?" he gave a good-natured laugh. It was warm and jolly. An echo of a good life. A fulfilling life. Despite it's quietness and obvious age, this laugh had been shared a lot over the years, and it wasn't quite ready to give up yet. "Rose…" he whispered.
Both men turned to look at Rose, who's blond hair was once again covering her face. She was staring furiously at their linking hands. Young and old. Right and wrong. Life and death. A tear dropped from her cheek and landed on her knee.
She didn't say anything.
"Rose, my love…" still, she didn't speak. She couldn't.
"Rose…?" the original Doctor whispered, cautiously placing a hand on her shoulder. He half expected her to shake it off immediately, and when she didn't he gained confidence and gently began to stroke her arm.
Rose didn't shake him off. She didn't have the strength anymore. She couldn't speak. She couldn't move. She couldn't care. She just couldn't.
"My Doctor…" her voice came out as a whisper, a hoarse, tired whisper. She didn't know which Doctor she was addressing, and found herself cursing that they had never given the second Doctor another name. They were going to… at one point. But they had decided against it in the end. They had just, never needed him to be known as anything other than the Doctor. It was who he was, and Rose had never wanted to change that about him.
Occasionally, they had introduced him as Dr John Tyler, but he was the Doctor. That was all he ever needed to be.
But now, she wished she had always called him that. Her John. It would've made today a hell of a lot easier! She thought, turning her face to look at the two men. The men who had once looked the same, but now one was old and the other was changed.
Only she remained exactly the same as she had on that beach, when she had said goodbye that last time.
Now she would have to say goodbye again. And she wasn't sure how long she would be able to keep this up, saying goodbye. She could see why the Doctor always avoided it where possible. Why he didn't come back.
But he had come back now. Would he stay? Or would he leave? Would he even say a proper goodbye this time? Rose didn't know, and it was hurting her head trying to figure it out.
"Hey! I'm the one who's meant to be ill here! You're not allowed to go fainting until I'm dead in my grave!" the dying Doctor said, as Rose found herself slightly dizzy, "God, I never thought I'd say that!" he grinned at her, that grin that could still melt her in a single glance, even with the added effects of age, leaving her smiling back – an empty smile, too sad for true happiness, but still a smile.
"That's it… a bit of a smile…" the original Doctor said, also grinning now.
She hated calling him that – the original – it made it sound like her Doctor was a copy, a trick of the light, when he was so much more. He was a person, his own person. More than a copy. He was different from the Doctor too, he had his own traits just like everyone else. They weren't the same person. After god-only-knows how many years, Rose knew that.
Tenderly, the Doctor.1 wrapped his hand around Rose's spare one, so they were all connected. The Time Lord, the human who didn't age, and the half alien. What a strange group! Yet still they sat – and lay – together. United by the events and by an undying love for each other. No, not all of them would admit to it, but it was there, connecting them more than they would ever know.
.o0o0o
"No! Doctor, hold on! Just hold on! You'll be okay! Oh-my-god! Don't die! Please! Don't leave me!" Rose's frantic cries subsided to begging whispers, as she clung to her husband's dying form. The first Doctor stood back, allowing her space and time to say goodbye. The time had come.
"Rose… let go… it's time… everything has it's time and everything dies…" the man who called himself the Doctor whispered, barely having the strength left to stroke her hair and reassure her.
All his words made Rose do, however, was sob more, her tears staining her beautiful face, but she didn't stop anyway, "No!" she sobbed, not caring that the nurses where coming into the room, not caring that the Time Lord had moved closer to her and had laid a protective hand on her shoulder. All she cared about was this man, dying in her arms and there was nothing, nothing she could do about it, "I love you, my Doctor…" she whispered into his ear.
"I love you too… I always have… and I always will…" he whispered back, his voice disappearing from his abilities, in one last, desperate hope, he pulled her closer to him, "We love you, Rose. Remember that."
She kissed him on the forehead, softly, barely applying any pressure at all, but it was enough. He closed his eyes and let go, knowing that his angle would be safe.
Rose watched the life leave his eyes and sobbed, clinging to his white hospital robe. They never did go to Barcelona. All those things she wanted to show him, all those thing he wanted to show her, now they could never happen.
She had known he would have to leave at some point, he was getting old and she wasn't. It was wrong, but it was what happened. She had always known… but that didn't make the blow any softer when it arrived.
She held him closer to her, trying vainly to hear his heartbeat, anything to show he had even a scrap of life in him, but he was gone. After all that. He was gone.
.o0o0o
"Rose…" she wasn't even aware she had left the room until she looked around and saw the familiar TARDIS walls around her. She supposed the Doctor must've moved her at some point. She wasn't sure whether to love him or resent him for that.
He was her Doctor. She had loved him first. He was real. He was alive. Even today she looked at the stars and wished she could see them again. Her husband had always told her 'never stop dreaming'. She trusted him with her life.
There were a thousand reasons she could think of to keep her in the TARDIS, but the only one she could think of to keep her out was the biggest and the one she knew she would have to go by:
He's not her husband.
Could she really go everyday with a man she loved, a man who shared the memories of the man she married? She honestly didn't know.
"Rose…?" she looked up, suddenly very aware of everything. The ticking of a clock somewhere behind her, the racing of her heart, the dripping of a tap on the other side of the TARDIS, the breath of the man standing over her…
"Rose!" he caught her just before she fell, "Are you alright?" he asked softly, not sure he wanted to hear the answer,
"Yeah… I'm… I'm fine…" she replied, pressing her hand to her forehead. When did she get such a headache?! She could feel energy flowing around her, pulsing through her veins. She looked at her hand when she noticed something odd, it was shimmering slightly, and her veins where sticking out much more than usual.
The Doctor was passing her some water, he hadn't realised. Shaking, she knocked the water to the floor, where the glass smashed, "Get away!" she shouted, pulling herself off the bench she was sat on. She needed to be standing.
The Doctor looked at her with fear in his eyes, he knew what was coming now. She had surprised him when she smashed the glass, but he knew that she must've realised before he did.
He didn't pretend to understand how this was happening, but he knew that he had to help her. She couldn't do this on her own.
"Rose, try to stand without support… that's it… now stand completely still… relax… it won't hurt…" he guided her gently, coxing her into the right position. She obeyed him without a seconds thought, and it didn't take long before she was standing in the middle of the medi-bay, ready for what both knew was coming next.
So this is dying… she thought, before a second voice entered her head, not dying… surviving…
An immense energy consumed her, heat filling up every last inch of her tired body. She wanted to scream, to leave, but there was nothing she could do. She wanted to run away, but there was nowhere to run to. Behind the fire, she could see the Doctor, his now-green eyes never leaving hers.
He could feel her pain, she was sure. She was exploding, and he was just watching, unable to help. No-one could help her now. She was dying… dying inside herself. She would be trapped, forever her own slave. She didn't want to leave… she wanted to stay the way she was, the last way he had seen her.
He died never knowing who I would become, she thought bitterly, before the fires overcame her and she could think no more.
And still he watched.