For two days the TARDIS wouldn't even let him near her room. Every time he would approach the hallways would shift and he would end up farther away than before. The Doctor responded by keeping them in the Vortex, afraid to land anywhere. He spent most of the time tinkering away in the control room, avoiding his own room where Rose's pajamas still lay across his bed from just a few nights ago.
If anything, it gave him time to think. Seeing his old friend Sarah Jane so much older than the young girl he had preserved in his memory had bothered him more than he could have imagined. How much longer would Rose have with him if she stayed? He could take her to the future where medical advancements could keep her alive and young for another 400 years easily. But even then he would most likely live on after her. And there was always her fragile human biology. She was constantly in danger while he was around.
So he had pushed her onto Mickey. It was unfair to both of them, but Trisha Delaney be damned, he knew how Mickey still felt about Rose. And if she chose to leave him for her human ex-boyfriend, then it would be the best thing for her. Mickey could give her a real proper life; marriage and children, the whole nine yards. But now that it appeared that his half-hearted plan might have actually worked, he couldn't bear to go through with it.
On the third day he chanced landing the TARDIS for just a few minutes. He quickly came back inside, his prize in his hands and the TARDIS mercifully let him go to her room. He pushed the door open but she wasn't inside. Not sure what else there was to do, he left the vase of flowers on her night stand with a note that read:
Rose,
No one compares to you. Not to me.
Love,
The Doctor
On the fourth day he found them both in the kitchen. He didn't dare walk in, instead choosing to spy from the doorway. They were both dressed and cooking together. Rose seemed better, even happy. His heightened Time Lord senses told him they had been physically close recently. They smelled like each other. But thankfully, he could tell they hadn't slept together. Still, his blood ran cold at the idea of Rose snuggling into Mickey's bed each night and not his own. Had they kissed? Had he really done so much damage that Rose had run back into Mickey's arms for good?
On the fifth day he returned to his room. It had been over a week since he'd slept and even Time Lords needed real rest every once in a while. He walked into the room and there was his Rose, standing by his bed. She was holding a souvenir from the planet Barcelona. He had finally taken her there after they met Queen Victoria. It was a simple decoration of an odd shape, but a little boy there had handed it to her blushing before he ran off. Before then, she had kept any souvenirs in her own room but this one he had taken from her pocket and placed on his nightstand. He had meant it as a sign that his room had become hers as well.
She set it back down as he walked towards her. "Thank you for the flowers," she said simply.
He took in the image of her standing there. She was calm and collected and appeared well rested. With the assortment of her things scattered around the room he could picture her as she kicked off her trainers, slid out of her trousers, and snuggled under the blankets as she waited for him to join her. It was comfort and it was domestic and he loved it. Right now, he couldn't fathom why he had ever tried to pull himself away from that.
"I'm sorry," he said gently as he walked over to her. He reached for her hand, and she accepted the familiar gesture with a small smile.
"I know. Me too."
He noted that she smelled noticeably less of Mickey today. Instead, there was a strong floral scent to her. He imagined her sitting alone in her bed with the bouquet of flowers he'd brought her, reading the note over and over until finally she had left in search of him. He found he rather liked the idea of that.
"Rose, what are you thinking?" He wished she would just let him in, but knew that they were still too estranged for that to happen. She had only ever let him in her mind a few times, in their most intimate of moments, and only then just at the surface. With the things that Mickey had said the other night, he wondered if it was because she was hiding from him, afraid that he would think less of her if he saw too much. He could relate to that feeling. And while it was terrible that she thought he could ever think less of her, a large part of him felt a bit of relief at the idea that he was finally starting to understand where she was coming from.
She took a moment before responding. "Mostly that I'm just really sorry about the way I acted. And about the way Mickey acted. I shouldn't have gone running off to him like that. Should've just talked to you instead."
"Don't be sorry for Mickey." He took a deep breath before he continued,
"Rose, he told me-"
She broke away from him then, before he could finish his sentence. "I know what he told you. I wish he hadn't."
"I don't." The honest surprise on her face pained him. "Well, that's not necessarily true. I wish you had told me first." He tried to shorten the distance between them. She didn't step away, but she didn't reach out for him either.
"Why on Earth would I ever tell you about all that?" It was a genuine question and there was no sarcasm in her tone.
"Rose, do you honestly believe that I would look down on you for that? Do you really think I'm that misogynistic?" He reached for her hand again, but she only stepped farther away. Maybe he was pushing the subject too hard, but she had to know that this was okay. If things were going to get better with them, it wasn't even an option.
She shook her head slightly. "It's not about that. You don't understand. The only two people who knew about Jimmy are my mum and Mickey. And my mum was the one who told Mickey, not me."
"Wait a moment. Jimmy?! He was the one who . . . ?" The Doctor thought back to months ago, back when he was all northern accent and Jack was still with them. Rose had taken them to her favorite restaurant, just a few blocks from her flat. They had been laughing, Jack telling them about another one of his crazy adventures. He remembered he had had one arm around Rose, and she was just putting her head on his shoulder when she sat upright. She had pointed Jimmy out, explained he was an ex of hers, and had pleaded with him "Please, can we just go?" Her hand had been in his and it he could feel it shaking.
Oh, if he had known back then . . . the Doctor knew he would have killed the boy.
"It's embarrassin', Doctor," she paused; shook her head, and continued, "No, it's worse than that. It's the worst thing that can happen to you. It's like you're no longer a whole person. They don't call it bein' a ruined woman for nothin'. And if for one second you ever thought that about me-"
"Stop it. Don't you even say it, Rose." He grabbed her arms before she could step away from him again.
"But don't you see, Doctor? Things like that don't happen to someone like Reinette. Women like that don't have my kind of baggage. So I don't blame you for fancin' her. She's the kind of woman you deserve. But me and Mickey . . . he grew up 'round that kind of thing. When we're together, we're just two kids tryin' to make it in the world. When I'm with you, I have to struggle to be good enough. And I fail." Against her will, tears were starting to build up in her eyes.
The Doctor took her face in his hands and kissed her right between the eyes. Her chin quivered from the restraint of choking back her sob. She wouldnot cry again.
"You're wrong." He kissed her lips this time. It was chased and sweet, and it was the first truly intimate touch they had shared in far too long. "You're the most wonderful, brilliant, daring, brave, amazing woman I've ever known. And you make me better. And you better believe me, because I've lived a long time. Too long I think. And I've seen a lot, done a lot, and only some of it was good. So if I know one thing, it's that you're the one that makes me better. It's not the other way around. And you have never failed me."
She kissed him back this time, openly. She was wet, and warm, and so sweet against him. He pulled her tight against him and her arms went around his neck. He had one coherent thought before he finally lifted her up and carried her to the bed: He was never going to let her go again.
So later on, when they were in the parallel universe, he would let Rose run into Mickey's arms when she realized he was still alive and that it was Ricky who had died. He would even let Mickey kiss Rose when they had to part again to go save that world's Jackie. And he would walk into the TARDIS to let them have their one last private moment to say goodbye for good. Because he understood everything Mickey meant to Rose, and he was so very grateful that Mickey had always been there for her when he himself had failed. But mostly because he knew that Rose was always going to be his, not Mickey's. She may come back into the TARDIS and cry on his shoulder over Mickey. He would even take her home so she could cry to her mum. But at the end of the day, it was his hand she was holding. It was him that she snuggled against on the couch when her mum left the room. It was his hair she would run her fingers through in just that way. It was his name she gasped as she came in his bed an hour later. And as she fell asleep in his arms, it was in his ear that she would mumble "I love you" into. And his hearts would stop and he would revel in the knowledge that he was the only man his little pink and yellow human would ever say that to.
