Title: Fix Him
Author: Gail R. Delaney
Series: The Unseen and In Between
Setting: Christmas Invasion
Characters: Rose, Mickey, Jackie, The Doctor (though passively), the TARDIS
Disclaimer: Not mine. If I owned Doctor Who, Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant would be my own private little playmates.
Summary: "The thing is… I thought I knew him, Mum. I though me and him were… and then he goes and does this. I keep forgetting he's not human."
Author Note: I spend as much time scouring the Doctor Who pages of Wikipedia for a lot of the 'past lives' information. I remembered some from watching Doctor Who as a kid on PBS, but that was 20 years ago, so I needed to refresh my memory. Some things are open to interpretation – especially details surrounding the Eighth Doctor since much of his 'telling' was in book form. I hope I've carried it off.
--
With an exhausted huff, Rose brushed some stray strands of hair off her damp forehead and sat back on her ankles where she knelt on her mother's bed. She was beginning to think her refusal to accept Mickey's help had been stupid. This man was thinner than her Doctor, but his dead weight didn't make it easy to remove his clothes and get him in the pyjamas.
But, she wanted him out of the Doctor's clothes. The leather jacket didn't belong to him, and the trousers had hung off him like a kid wearing his father's pants.
Why she had refused Mickey's help, she wasn't sure. It's not like this man was any one to her… she didn't care who he said he was. So what if he knew the first words her Doctor had said to her? So what if he knew how to fly the TARDIS and knew how to take her home? He couldn't… it wasn't possible…
As long as you believe, anything is possible.
Someone told her that once, a long time ago. And she had truly begun to believe it being with the Doctor. Not just believing in aliens, and time travel, and blue boxes that were bigger on the inside. Not just the fantasmic. But, believing in something better, believing in being more than she thought she could be. Believing in the kind of love that broke boundaries and never needed to be said to be felt.
Her fingers trembled as she fastened the final buttons on the pyjamas, her tears dropping on the striped cotton to form round, dark spots. Rose sniffed and smoothed her hand down his chest and pulled the blanket over him. He didn't stir, didn't make a sound. His chest barely rose and fell with his breath, and she wondered if he was dying.
Panic twisted in her chest, and for one brief moment she thought What if he really is my Doctor? I can't watch him die again. Not again.
The front door opened and closed, and her mum came into the bedroom, holding a stethoscope. "Here we go. Tina the Cleaner's got this lodger, medical student. And she was fast asleep, so I just took it." Rose took the stethoscope and stuck one earpiece in her left ear just as her mother added, "Though, I still say we should take him to the hospital."
Rose pulled the earpiece free, shaking her head. "We can't. They'd lock him up. They'd dissect him. One bottle of his blood could change the future of the human race." Jackie Tyler opened her mouth to add something, but Rose cut her off. "No! Shush!"
Jackie didn't look pleased, but she stopped. Rose scooted closer to the Doctor's side and put the stethoscope in her ears, leaning closer to him. Holding her breath, she laid the stethoscope against his left side, and heard the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, just like anyone would for any man. With a slight shake in her hand that she tried to hide, Rose moved the stethoscope to his right side.
The same steady rhythm sounded in her ears. She swallowed and sat back, removing the earpieces.
"Both workin'."
"What d'you mean both?" her mum asked.
"He's got two hearts."
"Oh, don't be stupid!"
Frustration and sadness collided in her chest, making it hard to take a breath. Her nerves were raw, and fatigue tugged at her. Her mother hadn't seen her in weeks, but for Rose, she had just left here hours before to find the Doctor and save him from the False God. She blinked, pausing for a moment, rolling the name through her head… False God… False God.
"He has," she snapped back, standing up.
"Anything else he's got two of?"
"Leave him alone," Rose ground out and left the bedroom, her mother on her heels. Even though she wasn't hungry, she knew her mother would be pesterin' her soon to eat and she wanted to avoid the lecture. She went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, picking up a pork pie for consideration.
"How can he go changin' his face?"
Rose dropped the pie and shut the door, blinking as a brief memory flashed of her Doctor looking up at her. "Rose, you've done it. Now stop… Just let go."
"Is that a different face or is he a different person?"
"Rose, it's me. Honestly, it's me. I was dying. To save my own life I changed my body. Every single cell, but… it's still me."
"How should I know?" Rose snapped out. She immediately closed her eyes and tried to sort it all out in her head. She sighed and turned to her mum. "Sorry."
Jackie nodded, and Rose saw in her eyes that she wanted to understand… and didn't want Rose to feel the way she did… but there was nothing her mother could do. She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat, the lump that had been choking her since he went away.
"The thing is… I thought I knew him, Mum. I thought me and him were… and then he goes and does this." She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand and sniffed. "I keep forgetting he's not human."
"I want you safe. My Doctor."
--
The TARDIS was too still, too quiet… she felt empty. The usual hum that was always present in the air had dulled to barely a whisper over Rose's skin, and a heavy weight of sadness sat on her chest as she looked up at the still engine pistons.
She remembered how the TARDIS shook when the Doctor had convulsed before their landing, showing the depth of their connection. What he felt, she felt. It didn't surprise Rose — she had known for a long time that there was a deep-seeded connection between the Doctor and his ship.
"The heart of the TARDIS. This ship is alive. You've opened its soul."
"I need to understand," she said to the silent control room, her vision blurred with even more tears. Rose didn't expect an answer, but some small part of her hoped.
Another fragment of a memory whispered in her head of looking down at her Doctor, everything painted with a golden haze.
He's lying on the floor of Satellite Five, his eyes wide as he stares at her. "What have you done?"
"I looked into the TARDIS. And the TARDIS looked into me."
Rose's head hurt, but it didn't bother her nearly as much as the frustration at knowing she had forgotten something important. She remembered yelling at Mickey to go faster, to pull harder, and to open the Heart of the TARDIS so she could go back to the Doctor. She remembered being washed in warmth and liquid gold…
And then she woke up on the floor of the control room, and the Doctor was there. He was alive… but then…
"Tell me!" Rose slammed her fist on the edge of the console. "Tell me! Tell me!"
Silence answered her.
Wiping away her newest wave of tears, Rose left the control room to enter the inner sanctuary of the TARDIS. As it had been of late, many of their most used rooms were clustered together along a long hallway. Today the walls were high and the ceiling arches with massive carved architectural beams and the wainscoting shined with polish. A deep red Turkish rug covered the floor. The doors stood open, and first she saw the bedroom they shared.
A sob hiccupped in her chest as she went inside. It felt like an eternity had passed since the last time she woke up in his arms. They had left Cardiff, and the plan was to go on to Raxacoricofallapatorius to find a nice nursery for the now-egg form of Blon Fell Fotch Passameer-Day Slitheen.
The Doctor didn't need to sleep like she did, but each night he joined her in the bed. He ate with her because he said he enjoyed food, and her company, not because he needed to consume as much as she did… and always quoted different biology. She didn't complain, she slept better with him beside her.
Sometimes, she would wake to find his eyes closed and his features relaxed, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath of sleep.
Sometimes, she reached out for him and found him just sitting beside her, his back braced against the padded headboard and his attention far away.
Sometimes, she would open her eyes to find him studying her, lying beside her with a smile.
That morning —that morning that felt like an eternity ago — he had been studying her. And before she could slip from the warm covers, he had 'studied' her from head to toe.
"You have beautiful knees."
Rose smiled, too satisfied and satiated to open her eyes. But she felt him behind her, his legs against her back and his fingers brushing over the back of her thighs. Most men she'd known were knackered after sex, but not the Doctor. It was more like an energy boost. Good for Rose… but, he could wear her out.
"I don't think anyone has told me that before."
His thumb stroked the back of her knee, making her twitch slightly and giggle when he hit a ticklish spot. He chuckled, his hands continuing down her calf to her bare feet. Rose purred when his lips pressed to her ankle.
"I'm quite fond of your ankles, as well."
"For a human?" she asked, not even trying to hide the humor in her voice.
He shifted behind her, and she rolled onto her back as he leaned over her, bracing his hands on each side of her. The Doctor's weight settled over her, and she ran her hands from his naked hips to his back, loving the feel of his dual heartbeats beneath her palms.
"For a human," he said against her lips before kissing her. "For any race, any universe, any time." The Doctor shifted his weight onto his bent elbows so he could lace his fingers into her hair and deepen the kiss.
Then Jack banged on the door, shouting that the 'egg' looked like it was about to hatch. They went to Raxacoricofallapatorius, dropped off Blon Fell Fotch, and then went to Kyoto, Japan 'as a treat'. From there… her world had fallen apart.
One of his jumpers draped across the corner of the bed, and Rose picked it up, holding it to her nose. The soft material held the scent of leather, fresh air and The Doctor. Reluctantly, Rose let the sweater drop again to the bed. The only thing she would find in this room was memories.
She went back into the hall, heading deeper into the TARDIS, past her old bedroom, past Jack's bedroom, past the kitchen… The hallway ended with a wide, high archway that opened onto a landing with a carved wood banister looking down onto the Doctor's massive library. Her gaze immediately shifted to the fireplace, and more memories greeted her.
"Rose…"
She loved the way he said her name, the way he had always said her name. It was as if no one else had ever spoken it until he did. Her body trembled as he pulled her tank top off, exposing her to the heat of the fire and of his gaze. Rose looked up at him, fighting the urge to cover herself. But when she saw the adoring glimmer in his eyes, she only reached for him and pulled him close.
Skin against skin, she sighed and dug her fingers into his back as he kissed her neck and shoulders. She wanted to burn. To light up in flames. To be consumed.
"There's nothing I should know, is there?" she managed to gasp between ragged breaths. "Nothing… unusual…'cos you're a Time Lord and all?"
The Doctor pushed his fingers into her hair and looked down at her, his familiar wide smile spreading his lips. "No, Rose."
"Good."
He kissed her and she had to hang on to keep from flying away. Her senses reeled, her equilibrium tilted and her whole body ached. Ached for him. Ached for more.
She didn't remember lowering to the floor, or how they did it without losing contact, but they did and she looked up at him as he braced himself over her. The soft weave of the carpet cushioned her back, and she relished in the delicious sensation of his weight settling against her.
Rose turned left and walked along the banister, letting her fingers run along the warm wood. The staircase curved along the outer walls of the library, so close that she could run her fingers along the bindings of the books. Old, thick tomes with leather covers and gold letters sat along side obviously newer paperbacks and books with colorful dustcovers. Rose couldn't help smile when she saw all seven Harry Potter books gathered together on the shelf, bracketed on one side with at least two dozen Nora Roberts romance novels, and the complete works of William Shakespeare on the right.
She reached the bottom of the stairs, and looked up at the three stories of books. Where would she begin to look for answers? And would the answers even be here?
Her attention shifted to a section of shelves with hundreds of thin books with no title or designation written on the bindings. Some had ribbons sticking out of them as place holders, others bits of string. All were worn, with curled edges on the pages. They varied only slightly in size, some were bound in leather, others different fabrics.
She pulled a random book from the shelf, and thumbed through it. Handwritten words filled the pages. "Journals," she mumbled, and glanced along the height and length of the book shelf. "Nine hundred years worth…"
She heard a thump, and spun around. On the floor at the base of the bookshelf was one of the journals, lying open. Rose couldn't resist the urge to glance around, but knew she would find no one. No one but the TARDIS.
"This a hint, I'm guessin'?" she said aloud, crouching down to pick up the book. The pages crackled and the leather binding creaked as she ran her thumb over the edge of the pages.
The book fell open near the beginning, and she scanned the neat handwriting. "Can't be the Doctor's," she said softly. "Can barely read his chick'n scratch."
Sam and I have once again encountered rumors that Gallifrey is about to face an impending war like none ever seen or imagined. I have attempted to ascertain this enemy who sneaks in the darkness and seeks to destroy the very foundation of Time Lord existence.
I fear that this is a battle that many will not survive. I have decided to return Sam to Earth, somewhere near the beginning of the twenty-first century. The TARDIS has become more and more unreliable as of late, for which I cannot blame her. After all, she had traveled for a century before our fortuitous joining. But, for this reason, I cannot guarantee I will be able to return Sam to her proper place and time. I am quite sure Sam will be vexed with me, but I have lost dear friends in the past, and if I can somehow prevent the loss of another to death, I shall do it.
Rose grimaced and flipped the pages forward. Whoever that was, it wasn't the Doctor, for sure. All flowery and pansy, she needed a dictionary just to read it.
She flipped ahead, a feeling of dread skimming along the back of her neck.
On several pages, there were scribbled words, but written so erratically that she couldn't make out what they said. One section showed signs of pages being torn free, their ragged edges sticking out of the binding, and the page before and after were crinkled by spots that had once been wet, but had long since dried. She turned the page.
They're gone. They're all gone.
The rest of the book was blank.
With shaking hands, Rose closed the journal and held it to her chest. "Oh, God."
Blinking hard, she slid the journal into the space left behind when it fell to the floor. Her fingers curled around the binding of the next journal on the shelf. This one was bound in deep-grained brown leather, the edges of the pages showing much less wear than the others. For some reason she didn't understand, Rose's heart beat faster and she caught her breath. In this journal, without even opening it, she knew it was his.
She opened the cover, and flipped to the center of the book.
"That which we call Rose Tyler by any other name would smell as sweet"
I don't know about that… not sure I'd care for calling her something like – oh, I don't know – Martha or Ingrid or Bertha. Rose fits her. Beautiful, but poke her wrong and she pokes back.
Though, I suppose I've picked up worse traveling companions. Had a few thick ones, more like dead weight than anything. But not this one. She's clever, for a human. Barely blinked when she came in the TARDIS.
I didn't want to bring her along. Been doing fine alone. Better that way. Even with her here, I'm not convinced it was a good idea. The TARDIS had other ideas, stubborn old ship. She wouldn't let it go.
Nothing to be done about it now. She's here until she doesn't want to be. I took her to 5.5/Apple/26. Didn't bother her. Well, it did… but not enough to make her leave. Took her to 1869 Cardiff, and nearly got turned into zombies by the Gelth. She looked beautiful. Not that it matters. Either way, still didn't shake her enough to make her go home, so I guess she's here for a bit.
Personal note: Check the TARDIS navigational circuits again. May need a mercury filter next time I'm at a commerce market. She's getting sketchy again.
Rose is sleeping. One too many glasses of the Fruit of Kasterbarous. The TARDIS gave her a room, so I guess the old girl expects her to stay, too.
Rose sank to the floor, bracing her back against the wall. She hugged the journal to her, and drew her knees to her chest. Tears ran down her cheeks, falling on the leather cover of the journal. She quickly wiped them away, not wanting the treasured book to be marred by her tears.
Part of her wanted to read more. These were his words, his thoughts… about her, about where they had been and what they had done. But, right now… her heart couldn't take it.
When the tears eased and she could breathe again without her lungs aching with the effort, Rose rolled to her feet, still holding the journal to her chest. She intended to leave, but something nudged at her—like a tingled at the base of her skull.
There's more.
She screamed and stumbled back, spinning around searching the empty space for the source of the voice. An ottoman caught the back of her legs and she sat with a humph, trying to catch her breath. Urgency danced over her skin.
Link breaking. Connection dying.
Rose swallowed, slowing rising to her feet again. She stared up, not at anything in particular, just up into the dark caverns of the endless ceiling. The whisper didn't come from there, not from anywhere in the room, but from within her mind.
Fix him.
"I don't know how." She knew now who she addressed, and until today she hadn't ever thought about being so direct. "It's him, though, isn't it? You…" she stuttered over the words, blinking rapidly as she tried to wrap her brain around the conversation. "You wouldn't lie about that. It's him. That's the Doctor."
Fix him.
"How?" Rose demanded.
Several more journals flew from the shelves, all from different places along the seemingly endless rows. Rose picked them up, nine in all including the first journal the TARDIS had tossed to the floor, and bundled them in her arms.