Rose remembered her first night in the TARDIS.
The Doctor had ushered her below deck. Rose had been fascinated when he led her down the seemingly never ending spiral staircase, chattering to her all the while about chips and traffic jams and aliens as if he'd known her his whole life.
They finally reached their destination, a short corridor with twelve doors and a smell of petrol. He showed her into a small room so full of disused parts and what was presumably years of accumalated rubbish that there was barely any room for the small, single bed squeezed into the right corner of the room.
"I'll leave you to get sorted out, shall I? You don't want me nosing around!" He said cheerily. "I'll be upstairs if you need anything. Sorry about the mess."
He had disappeared shortly afterwards, leaving her alone in the strange room.
It was her first and last night down there. The bed was generally comfortable, but that wasn't it. It was the noises that scared her. The engines rumbled every now and then, or the walls would shudder. She huddled in the bed, hiding under the duvet like she was three years old again. Despite all her self-restraint, she eventually ended up padding back upstairs. She got lost four times and took several wrong turnings, but, at last, she emerged in the control room, blinking in the brighter light and close to tears with confusion.
The Doctor looked up immediately, and Rose found herself wishing she had stayed downstairs. She felt like a fool, stood there, in her pyjamas.
He smiled at her. What else would he have done?
"It's late." He pointed out.
"I-I know...I was...I couldn't sleep."
The sonic screwdriver buzzed in his hands, analysing some reading or other. He glanced at it, then stowed it in his pocket.
"Noises in the dark?" He questioned, although it wasn't really a question. Rose got a feeling he already knew.
"Yeah, sort of. Alien noises, though." She admitted, sitting down on a chair near the controls.
"I know what you mean. Been down there a few times, didn't like it. Don't like sleep in general." The Doctor beamed at her again, then sat very still for a few minutes. She didn't know it then, but the Doctor was trying to resist getting the sonic screwdriver out, so that he could poke at machinery.
Eventually the screwdriver won the battle, and Rose had watched him sprint around the control tower, the last thing she saw before she had fallen asleep...
Another night. Another night in the TARDIS. Rose was sat on the floor, leaning against the control tower, watching the Doctor sleep for the first time since...well, ever. He always complained that sleep was a waste of valuable time, which Rose usually translated as "Who's gonna pointlessly poke bits of the TARDIS's mechanism if I'm asleep?"
This wasn't the Doctor though. Not her Doctor. This one looked different, looked...She didn't know. He was sprawled over three chairs, partly lying on his stomach. His arm dangled over the side of the chairs, and his chest rose and fell twice in rapid succession with each breath he took. Rose tried not to feel disgusted by the fact, but just watching his two hearts beat made her shiver.
His face was the only peaceful part of his body. His hair was sticking up in odd directions, and every now and then his eyelids would flutter, or he'd mutter something.
"Pass me...Sonic screwdriver...Rose! Get help...Get...Rose...Need Rose..."
Rose bit her lip, feeling herself blush by thinking of what the Doctor could be dreaming.
Eventually, the Doctor opened his eyes slowly, his gaze fixing on her almost immediately.
"Hello."
"Hey." Rose answered. Her voice was dry and raspy from lack of use. She coughed.
The Doctor opened his mouth to speak, but his words were obsured by a yawn.
"Tired?" Rose asked, although it wasn't really a question. She smiled, merely to have something to do with her face.
"Ugh! What was that?"
"What was what?" Rose looked around, wondering what he was talking about.
"That...smile. 'S'the sort of smile you give someone who's dying!" He complained, shifting into a decent sitting position. "Y'know : 'Oooh, you'll be alright! (Keep smiling, maybe he won't notice that he's...'" He faltered at the look on her face. "'Dying...)'" He finished half-heartedly.
There was an uncomfortable pause, broken only by the continual humming of the TARDIS. The Doctor glanced at her surreptitiously, then began examining his hands critically.
"Hmm...They've grown...They're bigger now..." He muttered. Rose couldm't tell if he was talking to her, or himself. He snuck a look at her, and ended up catching her eye. He smiled sheepishly and put his hands behind his back. "I'm sorry." He said suddenly.
"What?" Rose said slowly.
"I've gone and changed on you, haven't I? I'm...not quite sure what I am much anymore, and I don't think you know, either." He explained apologetically.
Rose smiled, properly this time.
"I don't mind. The new you is...different."
The Doctor beamed.
"Great! I got a proper adjective! Not like one of those throwaway ones like 'nice'. I think I'd've been insulted if you'd have called me nice." He said conversationally. He stopped, again, suddenly, looking around.
"Do I smell?" He asked quickly.
Rose didn't even bother to answer - This time she gave him a disapproving look.
"Well...I was wondering why you weren't sitting with me. Only plausible explanation I could think of." He shrugged and smiled again.
Rose got up slowly, and went to sit next to him. He grasped her hand suddenly, sending tingles up her spine.
She couldn't help blaming herself. She should've known. Good things like her and The Doctor never last, no matter how much you want them to.