Who would've thought that my first Doctor Who fanfic would be eleven/rose? Because ten/rose is my otp. Never fear, better stories will come later (hopefully) with those two.
The thing about Doctor Who fics, is that pretty much every possibility has been used . . . but oh well. It's all for fun anyway ;) Enjoy!
The Doctor wasn't exactly graceful. He knew that. He had begun to use his clumsiness as a new way to give off the impression of being goofy and fun. The Doctor would normally bounce to his feet, grin, and straighten his bow tie. When he tripped and no one was around, he just brushed himself off with considerably more annoyance than normal.
This time though, as he landed painfully on the floor of one of the TARDIS's many corridors, it only put him face to face with a piece of paper.
Sometimes he hated memories, but this one . . .
The Doctor picked it up. It was a rough sketching. He remembered the day, sifting through the cobwebs he had deliberately put up around any thoughts of his old companions . . . specifically her.
"Doctor, that man is staring at us." Rose wrinkled her nose at him. The two of them were stretched out on the sand, soaking in the warmth of the triple suns.
The Doctor laughed at her. "Rose, I will save you from the scary artist."
"Oh, an artist?" Rose contemplated the man again. "Well, he's creepy." She stood, marching over to the man.
The Doctor watched in interest as she seemed to be giving him a nice little tirade. At least it wasn't at him.
She came sauntering back, and the Doctor allowed his gaze to roam over her form only briefly before pulling his eyes away. Rose Tyler in a bikini was some terrible kind of torture.
"Here, look at this. He tried to draw us. Didn't get very far though," she said.
"Why didn't you let him finish?" the Doctor asked mildly.
"He didn't ask permission," she replied saucily. She flopped down beside him, and the Doctor, eyes drawn by the movement, noticed it.
"Rose, what's that?" The Doctor lifted his hand and gently traced the white line on her abdomen. She shivered.
"It's not a stretch mark," she said defensively, "it's just a scar."
He frowned. "From what?"
"Just walking home one day and someone attacked me. Got stabbed a little," she said flippantly.
The Doctor pulled himself into a sitting position swiftly, the fear and rage coiling within, even though she was fine, sitting right in front of him.
She noticed this and laid a placating hand on his own. "Doctor, it's okay. You know, someone was there to save me." She smiled at him. "And don't get jealous just because it wasn't you."
He let curiosity get the better of him. "Who was it?"
Rose shrugged her bare shoulders. "No idea. Nice man in a bow tie."
"So this was before I met you?"
"Yup. It was my eighteenth birthday, actually." Rose leaned in. "I went to a bar," she confided. "But I just pretended to have a drink."
He laughed aloud at that. "You take jeopardy-friendly to a whole new level, Rose."
She smiled blithely at him. "S'what I do best!"
The Doctor groaned. He couldn't know for sure if the man with the bow tie was him, but the chances were high. He didn't even tell Amy and Rory before he flew the TARDIS through the vortex, praying he wasn't too late. He rushed off to the infirmary, grabbing what he would need. The Doctor couldn't chance showing Rose the screwdriver, so he would have to improvise. As he rushed back to the console, the TARDIS shook with the rough landing.
He could hear Rory and Amy coming down the hall, but couldn't wait. This was too important. Time could be rewritten, but this . . . if she was rewritten . . .
The Doctor found himself outside the Powell Estates. He momentarily panicked, realizing that he had never asked Rose where she had been attacked, but then a scream split through the air and he was off.
There she was. Rose. She was on the ground, and there was blood. The man in front of her was standing, appalled. The Doctor, after standing for a moment, frozen in shock, sprang into action, slamming a fist into the assailant's head. He didn't want to consider how very right it felt to be so violent-maybe it was a bit of the leather-clad regeneration coming through-so he just focused on Rose.
"Hey, you're gonna be okay."
"Who are you?" she panted, trying to sit up and then crying out and falling back.
"Don't look. Just don't look."
He got to work, trying to ignore the fact that this was Rose, and she was here with him, not on a parallel world.
"Wow, it doesn't even hurt anymore."
"Just give me a little bit more to clean this up." The cut had been deep enough to be fatal. If he hadn't been here . . .
She sat up. "You saved my life. Who are you?"
He had known this question would happen, but he still was unprepared. "Um, I just . . . just passing through."
Rose laughed at that, and the Doctor found himself smiling unreservedly at the sound.
"You're not from around here, are you."
It was a rhetorical question. She was picking herself up and glancing around. The Doctor answered anyway. "No. Just . . . used to have a friend who lived around here."
"Anyone I'd know?" she was examining her stomach now. "Ugh, there's a scar. Maybe mum won't notice though." She looked up at him expectantly.
Oh, her question. "Probably not," he lied.
"How's it not bleedin'?"
"I'm very good."
"You a doctor?"
He coughed. "You know, I better go."
Rose smiled at him. "Thank you for saving me." She caught him by surprise, throwing her arms around him in a hug that felt all too familiar. The Doctor choked back a sob, and fought to keep himself from clutching her desperately.
"I like your bow tie," she offered after pulling back.
The Doctor smiled widely, as did she in return. Of course she liked it. The memories were beginning to overwhelm him, and the Doctor turned away. He threw behind him, "Call the police and get that man arrested."
"But I'm not hurt anymore. How can I explain that?" she reasoned.
Curse Rose for always asking the right question. He turned back. "Weellllll," he dragged out the word, the old habits coming to the fore without a conscious thought. That regeneration always had been so attuned to her. "Just leave him here, then."
"But he could do this to someone else."
The Doctor ran a hand through his long hair. "I can't fix everything."
"S'pose not." Rose was poking her tongue out in thought, and the Doctor was distracted. "Oh!"
"What?"
"We could talk to him," she said.
"That sounds . . . like a very bad idea." Another bad idea was the fact that he was still standing with Rose, and every second it was getting harder to pull himself away.
She pouted at him. "Well, I couldn't think of anything else."
The Doctor shrugged. "He'll probably be fine. Looked like he didn't want to stab you anyway, shocked as he was."
"Yeah . . ." Rose blushed. "I kind of yelled at him when he tried to take my purse, and then tried to hit him.
The Doctor laughed. When was the last time he had laughed, really? It felt good.
"I better go, then," he offered lamely. He had yet to move.
"You want some tea?" Rose countered.
He couldn't help himself. "That sounds . . . lovely."
"I need a name for you, still," she crept up beside him and took his hand in hers.
"Smith," he said awkwardly.
She giggled. "Mr. Smith. Sure you're not making that up?"
Rose gestured him up the stairs he remembered so well. His throat dry, the Doctor coughed out, "Is your mother here?"
"No, she's doing some shopping."
She skipped past him, starting to make tea.
The Doctor cast around for something to talk about. "What do you do?"
"Work in a shop." Rose's voice was too self-depreciatory for his liking, and he almost opened his mouth to ask her if she'd like to travel . . . but stopped himself.
"What about you?"
"Oh, I travel around and rescue damsels in distress," he said breezily. She laughed at that. Would it be odd if he asked her to continue to laugh? He had missed that sound . . .
"Here's your tea."
"Thank you."
It was just as he remembered it, and for a second, the Doctor closed his eyes and pretended they were in the TARDIS's kitchen, having a cuppa before bed.
"You look tired. Are you sure you're all right?"
The Doctor's eyes opened wide. "Me?"
"Yeah. I mean, you're young and all, but that look on your face is like my mum when she's remembering dad."
Instantly all the memories of Rose and her father came swarming back, especially Pete catching Rose as she fell towards the Void . . . "Just been a long day."
"Okay." She obviously wasn't buying it, as she settled in on the chair opposite him.
"I really should go," the Doctor stated. He stood, and so did she, but he made no move to go towards the door.
Rose cocked her head at him. "I hope you find something to make you happy."
"What?"
Rose shrugged. "Normally I don't say anything to people who aren't happy. But something about you . . . I think it just needs to be said."
The Doctor made an indistinct noise in the back of his throat.
"I want to give you something for saving me," Rose mumbled. "Hang on."
She bounded away to her room, and the Doctor saw his opportunity. Just open the door and leave, and she would never know the difference.
"Here!" Rose handed over a necklace. He gave her a bemused glance and she crossed her arms defensively across her chest. "It's not for you to wear, you can sell it. It's a real diamond."
It wasn't, but he wouldn't tell her that. "It's too much," he murmured, but in truth he already didn't want to give it up.
"No, it's not. I like you, and it's just to make me feel better, okay?"
"Okay." He ran his hands through his hair, again mimicking an old habit. This time his hair went completely wild . . . it was a lot longer than his last regeneration. "I should go."
"So you keep saying," Rose giggled. "I won't keep you captive any longer. I know I'm boring you. Go on, then."
Impulsively, he went over to her and pulled her into a tight hug. When they finally let go of each other, Rose wouldn't meet his eyes.
"Blimey," she muttered.
"You know . . ." the Doctor swallowed. "Things will get better for you."
She smiled at him. "You too."
The pain was overwhelming, and he turned away quickly, the bounce absent from his step, and the weight of two universes weighing down. Was she okay, his Rose? Did she still have the meta-crisis Doctor, or had that Doctor left her like he had?
He made good his escape, clutching the necklace in his hand and pushing past Rory and Amy as they stood outside the TARDIS, questions in their mouths.
The Doctor put the cheap necklace on, tucking it under his bowtie and shirt. He took a moment to shove Rose away behind a locked door in his mind. Though, if he was comparing his mind to a building, she was probably a whole floor. Finally he turned to his companions.
"Just said hi to a friend. So where to next?"