The One Adventure I'll Never Have
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"who's gonna hold his hand now?"
.
"I love you."
She says it as though it has been a big secret until now, now when there's but seconds before we're separated forever. Now, as though I'd never caught a glimpse of it in her eyes, in the curve of her lips as she smiled at me. Now, as if I can't see the very essence of Rose Tyler breaking and crumbling behind tear-filled eyes. Oh Rose, I know.
"Quite right, too." My voice breaks on the last word, refusing to behave in the one moment I need it to. "And I suppose, if it's my last chance to say it..."
It isn't. She's known it from the moment that I took her hand that first night and saved her from the clutches of mannequins. We've said it to each other in every way imaginable, through every grasp of the hand and hug, every adventure, every universe. Every way but this. It never needed to be said until now.
"Rose Tyler-"
But it's too late. Something flickers in Rose's eyes, a dying light, and then I'm gone.
I don't think I'll ever forget the haunting expression on Rose's face when I was torn away, the sound of her name on my lips.
"-I love you."
The sound of my own voice ricocheting across the walls of the TARDIS startles me, mainly because I haven't spoken. I slam my head against one of the spriggs at the base of the heart, mumbling a few choice words. The whispers of the other my voice echo around me, fading to whispers. Odd. I haven't accidentally returned to a time frame I've visited before, have I?
"Doctor, you can't...you can't be gone. Please. Doctor!"
I go completely still, the sheer terror behind the words rendering me immobile. I must be in an old time frame with my duplicate mucking about, otherwise I'd have no conceivable way of hearing her voice. For a moment, hope rises to clutter up my chest, but I refuse to consider it. Instead, I focus on the rugged state of the pedals on the side of the TARDIS's mainframe, calculating each chip in the wood. Most of those had been her fault, with her long nails always scratching about.
"Doctor." Rose's voice is softer, fading away. "I can't do this, not with you gone. Please, Doctor." Oh god, the tears in her voice. "Please don't leave me here."
"What the bloody hell is going on?" Has she found a way to open a small rift in between the two universes? I'd say it were impossible but Rose had surprised me with her ingenuity in the past. If anyone were capable of such a feat, it would be my Rose.
Moving slowly across the deck, my feet feeling as though they are coated in cement, I reach for the main controls of the TARDIS.
I've got to follow that voice. I cannot lose her again.
I'm deposited in a little town on the coast of Bristol. The date on the teleprompter reads August 18th, 2006, barely a month after Rose and I had been separated in Bad Wolf Bay. The call of Rose's voice is potent here, lacing the air. I step cautiously out of the TARDIS, emerging into an alleyway outside a small flat. There are a few children paying outside, tumbling about on the street. The ground is hard, flat here and sloping down about a hundred feet in front of me, eventually bleeding into sand.
The voice is coming from the flat, the room in the back of the building to be precise. I hurry toward the door, my feet determined to grow wings, and raise my hand to knock. With a funny, tickling feeling, my fingers go through the door. I giggle, pulling back to look at my arm.
Oh. That is what this is.
I think of beaches and a small hand drifting close to my face. The brittle hope in my chest crumbles to pieces. Then I step through the door.
"Pete, for the last time," Jackie shrieks from the kitchenette to my right, "I've told you not to watch your shows on the telly when I'm around."
"Rose doesn't mind."
"Rose doesn't mind anything anymore."
I flinch at the mention of Rose and press myself to the wall next to me, watching as Pete reclines further in his chair. Instead of turning off his show, Pete reaches for the remote and turns the program up until it is blaring.
"Pete!"
"What?" Pete asks, ruffling that ginger hair of his I've always secretly wanted to shear off and wear. "Aw, c'mon Jackie. The Doctor's given us a second chance. Are you gonna sit there and waste it jabberin' at me?"
Something on Jackie's face must give, because suddenly Pete looks about ten times more relaxed. His shoulders slump and he sends a soft, adoring expression in the direction of the kitchen.
"You shouldn't mention The Doctor around here," Jackie says, her remark half-hearted. "You know what it does to her, Pete. Honestly."
"She isn't here to hear me, Jacks," Pete answers, reaching out a hand. I hear the sound of socks on carpet.
Jackie pops through the door to the sitting room. "She's right back there, Pete," she says, taking her husband-from-another-universe's hand and squeezing. Her wedding band glints in the light.
Pete's mouth opens and his throat works soundlessly for a moment.
"You know what I mean," he says at last.
I take one step forward and then another, trying to put pressure on the balls of my feet. I know that I'm not really here; however, old habits die hard, especially when I'm on Earth. The lingering bits of Rose's voice call to me from the end of the hallway, behind a closed door that is probably latched from the inside. Casting a last look over at Jackie and Pete, I head over to the door, slowly and then all at once, My fingers press of their own the wood. They begin to sink through in a blaze of blue light, and I catch a sigh in the back of my throat.
The room is dark, the shutters drawn tightly over the windows. A crack of light spills through, catching on the edge of the wall by the bed. There are countless papers stapled there, overlapping at certain points. Some are filled with detailed notes, covered even down to the margins. They look vaguely like formulas designed to bridge the gap of nothingness between universes, but none are complete, only imagined. Others papers are occupied by drawings of the TARDIS and images of the end of the world Rose must've been able to remember well enough to sketch. Oh, why would you do this to yourself? Beside the drawings of our adventures, there is a short bookcase pushed up against the wall, half-full. On top of it are a handful of leaflets with the Torchwood logo written proudly on the right-hand corners.
Mickey isn't sitting beside the bed like I'd thought he would be, nor cuddled with Rose, re-claiming his territory. In fact, he isn't here at all. If I hadn't just caught the covers on the bed rising up and down slowly, I'd have assumed the two love-birds were out and about.
I take a step toward the bed, opening my mouth to call out to the bundle under the sheets even though she cannot hear me. Only a choked, little sound emerges, leaving the bitter taste of iron on my tongue. As I watch helplessly, a hand creeps out from underneath the covers and grasps at the beige pillow overhead tightly. The red, chipped nails are all too familiar; I could probably recall each and every line on her palms.
"Rose," Jackie shouts from the other side of the door. "Pete and I are off to entertain a client. If you need anything, all you have to do is call me." There's a pause. I can hear Jackie's labored breathing as she hunts for words to say. "Becky called again. She says you were supposed to turn in your new design to Torchwood last week. I taught you better than this. Hiding away doesn't solve your problems."
Unconsciously, I begin to drone out the irritating buzz of Jackie's voice, focusing entirely on the way that Rose's fingers dig ferociously into the pillow. The moment the front door slams, I give up restraining myself and sink down onto the edge of the bed. My fingers creep instinctively toward Rose's to provide comfort but I freeze when our fingertips are just inches apart. I shouldn't touch Rose. The fact that I'm here now is miracle enough. There isn't any need to prod at the tear in the Rift.
A few silent moments pass. I should go. It is nearly unbearable to be this close to Rose and yet unable to touch her, feel her, keep her safe, but something keeps me tethered. My body turns and lowers itself down onto the bed, sinking through the covers, and I'm looking right at her.
She looks as beautiful as I'd remembered her to be. Even with her cheek smushed into the edge of her arm and dried tear tracks staining the freckles on her skin, Rose Tyler is still captivating.
"I never thought I'd see you again," I whisper to her, my voice catching a little as I run my eyes down the length of her body. Rose looks as if she hasn't moved for days. Her blue jacket is rumpled - it is the same one she'd been wearing when we were confined to separate universes - and her black sweats are flecked with grime. Messy blonde hair pools around her face, in need of a good wash.
Rose's eyes flicker as I speak and the energy in the room shifts as I stare into their tired, blue depths. I know that she cannot hear me, cannot see me, but perhaps my presence might elicit a subconscious reaction within her and begin to heal. The sight of her face is certainly causing a reaction in myself; my body's humming at our proximity, something inside of me picking up the sweet essence of Rose. Rose isn't broken - she's too strong for that - but the longer that I look at her, soaking in her features, the more convinced I am that Rose has retreated deep into her mind. It is time to begin coaxing her out.
Rose shifts, then, sliding underneath the sheets until she's resting on the same pillow as I am with her head tucked into the crook of my neck. For a moment I wonder if she can actually see me, but with the way that her eyes are flitting everywhere except for the length of my body, it is highly improbable. Even still, as I give up with a rattling breath and rest my head against hers, the taut lines of Rose's face soften. Her eyes flutter closed and she sighs heavily. I missed you too, I think as I gather Rose close, running my hand along a warm stomach until it is wrapped entirely about her waist. So very much.
I close my eyes and breathe in her soft scent. Then my lips move, whispering her name over and over, caressing it. I'm still murmering the familiar syllables of Rose's name when I'm swept away, back to the too-quiet TARDIS that ceased to be my home the moment I lost Rose. I raise my hand up and sweep it across my face, catching the wetness underneath my eyes.
to be continued
.-. heads up. i've only just started series three so this will be considered AU from the end of series two on. .-.
