"So Doctor!" Rose's bright voice echoed through the long corridors of the tardis, the sound bouncing off of the walls. "So, Doctor, where are we going today?" She left her room, peeking her head down the hallways. "Doctor?" She didn't hear his reply, and assumed that he was tinkering around with the console – he always said that he was fixing her up – her, of course, being the tardis – but Rose thought that maybe he just liked pretending that he was fixing up the Tardis so that he could have some time to himself to think. Sometimes, when they had days when they weren't saving planets, but lazing around the tardis, she'd find him sitting in the oddest places – in his room, in the library, in the pool – with the most strange expressions on her face, as if he was in another world. She always teased him for it, and he always put up with her teasing. That was just how they worked, though. Rose Tyler and The Doctor. She smiled at the thought – even thinking about him made her grin. Sometimes, it felt like the Doctor had a certain magic about him. She couldn't describe it, not really, simply that just being around him made you realize that you weren't just a daft old shop assistant – that, if you wanted to, you could be the savior of the universe.
Rose walked into the console room, scanning it for him. But she didn't hear the normal sound of metal clanging with tools, or his quiet conversations with both the tardis and himself. "Doctor? Are you in here?" She received no reply, and frowned. Where could he be? For one fleeting moment, she thought that he might have left her in the Tardis to go off and adventure by himself, but shrugged the idea off. He wouldn't leave her – at least, not without telling her first.
She began to wander down the hallways, searching for a sign of him, but saw none. She checked the library – he liked to go in there, sometimes to watch movies (usually they were history movies, and he would often laugh at the strangest, most serious parts, exclaiming that he remembered that happening, and speaking to the characters on screen as If they could hear him) but, more often, he would be reading. He loved all kinds of books – which she knew about him, because he'd told her. when he had had the big ears and leather jacket, he'd been so secluded, telling her the bare minimum. Trying to get anything personal out of him was like trying to push a giant rock onto it's side – nearly impossible. But as soon as he'd regenerated, it was as if all the things that he'd acted as if he'd rather die than tell her were things that he absolutely needed to say. Honestly, with every new thing that Rose learned about the doctor, she admired him all the more. She knew that some of the things he'd done were things that he regretted, but she also knew that, in life, everyone did things that they regretted. It was as if he felt like the weight of the world had to be carried on his shoulders – as if he didn't see all of the good that he did, only the good that he couldn't always do.
Sighing, she yelled his name again. "Doctor! Come on, where are you?" She glared at the ship, frowning. "Come on, old girl. Where is he?"
She heard a low hum, and one of the doors creaked open. She thought a silent thanks towards the ship – she'd long since stopped questioning how the Tardis knew what she was thinking – and headed towards the open door. "Doctor?" She asked, a bit hesitant, wondering why he hadn't answered her before. She pushed the door open, unprepared for the sight that awaited her.
A mess of limbs, hair and blankets were strewn on a bed in the middle of the room. Clothes and papers littered the floor, along with wires and bits of technology, which she guessed should probably have been on a desk, and not the floor, where people were likely to step on. She thought about mentioning this to him, but was a bit awe-struck. Was this the doctor's room? She couldn't believe she hadn't ever seen it before. Rose had known, of course, that he had a room, but she'd never been inside of it before. Of course, she didn't think that he was in her room all that often, either, unless he was waking her up or looking for her. She turned around, taking in the sight. The walls were painted an orange-brown, and papers, pictures and posters had been hung all around it. There was a desk pushed into one of the corners, and when she went closer to see what was on it, she saw a mess of writing in a language that she couldn't read – but recognized as Gallifreyan – and pencils and erasers strewn all over it. There were a few framed photos, and when she looked at them closer, she saw that most of them were of her. A picture of her and the Doctor in his former regeneration, after they'd crossed paths with the child from World War Two with the gas mask – when they'd met Jack. Two photos, newer ones, of them grinning at each other – one where they were holding hands and strolling down the street, another where he was bent over a book, her asleep on a couch. She smiled, fully engrossed in his room when she heard a small groan from the bed and her attention immediately turned to him.
"Oh, Doctor." She sat down on the foot of his bed, concerned. "What's the matter with you?"
"Ib fine." His voice was muffled, and his noise sounded stuffed up. "Ib just sweeping."
"Sweeping? You don't look like you're up for chores, Doctor." She teased him. Rose really was concerned, but, after pressing a hand to his forehead, deemed that he just had a cold.
"Rose, dob be mean." He protested. "Ib getting ub. Gib me a second." He started to get up, but she gently pushed him back down. "Doctor, you're sick. You just need to rest."
He looked as though he was about to protest before nodding, settling down further in his bed. "You knoe," He muttered. "That mib beh a good ibea." He was so out of it, and Rose grinned. "Go back to sleep, Doctor," She told him, but even before she'd finished the sentence, she knew that he was too asleep to hear her. She smiled at him fondly, watching him sleep. The Doctor. Her Doctor…
She quickly pushed the idea away. No. It would never be like that for them. He didn't want that for them. Because she was human. She grimaced. All because she was human. If only she wasn't – but that was just it. She was. And even though every touch, every time they held hands, every time they hugged hurt because it was just a reminder of what could never be – she still would rather have a piece of the doctor than none at all. She remembered meeting Sarah Jane, how the older woman had told her that the Doctor was worth getting your heart broken for. Rose agreed.
Humming softly to herself, she straightened out his blankets, pulling them up to his chin. He hardly ever slept. He looked so peaceful now – when he was a awake he always looked as though he was carrying around some great burden, which he would never let anyone else hold. But he looked so innocent now. He'd told her that Time Lords didn't need sleep like ordinary human beings did – they only slept four, five hours every week. But he could probably do with a little bit extra – he was sick, after all. Leaving his room, she said aloud, "Where's the cold medicine, then?" Rose thought that she heard an amused hum coming from the ship, before a cabinet swung open. She walked over and grabbed the only bottle inside – cold medicine. She smiled up at the ship, heading back into his room. Rose hated to wake him up, but she did, setting an arm on his back. "Doctor, come on. Wake up." He seemed to wake up, opening one eye to look at her before groaning, turning away.
"Come on, Doctor. This is some cold medicine. It'll make you feel better, yeah?" He didn't answer, and she sighed, twisting open the cap and pouring some of the cough syrup into it. "Come on, you." Groaning, he straightened himself up. "Ib tired, Robe." She shushed him. "Drink this." With some difficulty, she managed to convince him to open his mouth and swallow the medicine. "There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" He just grumbled to himself. "Go back to sleep." She kissed his forehead, then froze. What would he think? Had she just made things awkward? A bit afraid, she looked down at him, but he was already asleep. Rose let out a deep breath, shaking her head. She would have to be better at concealing how she felt. She left the room and headed into the kitchen to make some tea for herself. She'd just put the sugars in and was stirring it when she heard the shout from the Doctor's room. Jumping up, she raced over to make sure that he was okay.
He was sitting upright, eyes scanning the room, but she could tell that he wasn't really there, in the room, he was somewhere else. In another time, in another world. She rushed over to the bed, putting a hand on his back. "Doctor? Come on, Doctor. It was just a dream. Come on. Come back to me." He seemed to shake himself out of it, letting out a deep breath and slouching down into his covers.
"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked, and he looked up at her, confused. "No." He answered, shaking his head. Rose nodded. "Go to sleep. It was just a dream." He nodded, closing his eyes, and she got up to leave, when she felt a hand grab her wrist. "No," He complained. "Stay."
Rose felt her heart race, hesitating. Did he know what he was asking? The cough medicine had probably made him weird, drowsy, out of it. But she couldn't bring herself to leave, so she nodded, and lay down on the bed next to him, sighing a bit in content. She bit her lip, blushing at the noise, but he took no notice. He began to trace circles around on her back and she shivered at the touch.
"I wost you." His voice whispered in her ear.
"What?" Rose asked, confused, unsure about what he was talking about.
"My dweam." He coughed. "I wost you."
"Oh, Doctor." She turned around, wrapping her arms around him. "You're never going to lose me."
He looked into her eyes. "I wub you." The words were so soft, so quiet, that she wasn't sure that she hadn't just imagined hearing them. But then he said it again. "Robe Tywer, I wub you."
"I love you too, Doctor." Her heart raced. What were they doing? What was he saying? Why was she answering? What were they going to do when he – He kissed her, passionately, and her thoughts were the last thing on her mind. She returned the kiss, moving her mouth against his, twisting her fingers in his hair. They only broke apart to get air, and after a moment, she started the kiss again. He pulled her closer to him, hearing him say her name into her mouth. When they finally broke apart, she grinned at him, and he returned the grin. She lay her head down on his chest. "Doctor?"
He was playing with her hair. "Yeah?"
"What are we going to do now?" She paused, and the question hung in the air. Would he act as if it never had happened? Would he think it had just been a dream?
"We have forever, Rose Tyler." He told her. "We can do whateber you want." And she sighed happily, smiling. He was right. They had forever. And forever, at least for her, was a long time.