AN: This update is long overdue. I wrote the end of chapter 1 and then got stuck, not knowing what to do next-or more accurately, not wanting to do what I'd set myself up for. But I finally accepted where the story was going, and it came really easily. There should be two more chapters of this story, and it will hopefully be finished before the end of April.
The Doctor froze for a nanosecond, his brain working rapidly to process Rose's question.
Is that why I can still feel you in my mind?
Between the adrenaline rush of getting her to safety and the struggle to control his anger over the fact that she'd been subjected to such an attack, he hadn't realised the link between them was still open. But when he focused, he could feel it—a thin strand connecting him to Rose Tyler.
He backed away from the connection and shoved the dread to the back of his mind. Then he pasted a reassuring smile on his face before Rose even noticed her question had surprised him. "Just a few lingering effects," he said breezily. "It'll fade soon, and then you won't even be able to tell I was there."
He crossed his fingers where she couldn't see them. I hope.
Rose leaned into him, and it took every bit of his self-control to keep from stiffening at the contact. "I kinda like it," she said quietly. "Do we have to get rid of it?"
The Doctor dropped his arm to rest on her shoulder, pulling her close. "There isn't really a choice," he said apologetically. "You aren't telepathic, so temporary contact is the most we can share."
His dread morphed into panic when he grasped the truth of what he'd just said, and he jumped to his feet. "You said wine, I think. Why don't you let me make supper, and I'll open a nice bottle to go with it? You just go… take a bath and relax. Teleru wasn't exactly the calm destination we thought it would be."
Rose gazed up at him, and he had a feeling he wasn't really fooling her with his nonchalant facade. But after a moment, she nodded her head slowly anyway and stood up.
"All right. A bath sounds lovely, actually. Just come knock on my door when it's almost ready, so I have time to get dressed."
The Doctor kept his smile on his face until Rose was out of sight, then he leapt to his feet and started pacing in front of the fireplace. "Oh, this is not good. This is very, very not good," he muttered, tugging on his hair. He could still feel Rose in the back of his mind. Her contentment jarred against his own frazzled nerves, and he kept his distance as much as he could, not wanting to alert her to his own mental state.
Hands pressed firmly against the mantle, the Doctor took a deep breath and stretched telepathic muscles he hadn't exercised in over two years. His barriers had become laughably thin, and he shored them up quickly, blocking his emotions especially.
Once his own thoughts were protected, he approached the link, steeling himself for what he might find. There was no way a human should be able to sustain a telepathic connection; it should have closed the moment he stopped consciously keeping it open. The fact that it had remained open stirred up a whole host of possibilities he didn't even want to consider.
The Doctor closed his eyes and took a deep breath in through the nose, letting it out slowly through his mouth. Despite the barriers he'd put up, he could still feel Rose, and her presence drew him in. Keeping away was giving him a headache, and he massaged his temples, trying to ease the pain.
He let himself edge closer, still trying to keep her from noticing his presence. The link shone brightly in the corner of his mind, and once he was close enough to feel the reality of it, there was no longer any doubt. The warmth of her mind was entwined around his cool strength in a way that was… unbreakable.
He backed away from the link—he refused to call it a bond—as quickly as he could with alerting Rose to his presence. The rapidity of his withdrawal exacerbated his headache, and he sank down onto the couch and put his head in his hands.
The Doctor's thoughts were all jumbled up. Had she always been telepathic, and he hadn't noticed? He dismissed that idea as soon as it came to mind. As empty as his mind had been when he'd met Rose, he would have recognised another telepath the moment he took her hand. Which meant she had somehow become telepathic in the time she'd been traveling with him, and he had a sinking feeling that he knew exactly when that had happened.
The TARDIS pulled on a memory he'd tried to forget—one that was already haunting him tonight. His Rose, wreathed by the golden light of Time, her voice and the TARDIS' speaking together as they called themselves the Bad Wolf.
Rose and the TARDIS speaking together…
The sound of a very large anvil dropping echoed through the Doctor's mind, and he looked incredulously at the ceiling. "You… you strengthened her latent abilities, didn't you? Took the mind she opened to you when she looked into your heart and reshaped it so you could communicate with her more easily."
The TARDIS' chime confirmed his suspicions.
"You had no right to do that!" the Doctor roared. "I promised her—I promised—that your contact with her would always be superficial. You violated her trust, and mine."
His ship didn't sound the least bit repentant. Instead, with a montage of images from Margaret Slitheen's transformation through Rose's multiple attempts to pull open the console, she reminded him that Rose had known opening her heart could have extreme consequences, and had still chosen to do it. She'd been determined, in fact.
The Doctor's mind took the next logical leap. If Rose was already… telepathically inclined, or whatever, on the Game Station, then he'd formed a temporary connection with her when he'd gone into her mind to haze the memories of the previous hour.
And that's why it was easier connecting with her the first time I told her I loved her, he realised. Then with each successive occurrence of telepathic contact, the path between their minds became more solid, until… this happened.
He scrubbed his hands over his face. It didn't surprise him that he would do something like this, as alone as he'd been in his head since the war. But the thought that he'd forced a permanent bond on Rose without even discussing the possibility of it with her first sickened him.
He didn't even want to think about how Rose would react to the news. She was more accepting of telepathy now than she had been when they'd first met, but this was a far cry from the courteous request-and-response he'd always adhered to.
The Doctor's imagination conjured several outcomes, none of them favourable. He purposely avoided looking at the timelines, not wanting to know exactly how badly things would go. Would she want to leave him? Demand to be taken home? Thinking of the pain that would bring made him ill—not for his own sake, but for Rose's. He had to find a way to make sure she didn't suffer for his rash mistake.
oOoOoOoOo
Dinner was a frankly torturous affair, during which the Doctor was forced to act as though everything were normal. Afterwards, while he was cleaning up, Rose came up behind him at the sink and wrapped her arms around his waist.
"Want to put a film on in the media room and snuggle on the couch?" she suggested.
Between the feeling of her hot breath on his neck and the fleeting images he picked up from Rose, it took every bit of the Doctor's restraint to keep from shivering at her words. He turned around and took Rose's hands in his. "I wish I could," he said, putting as much regret behind his words as possible. "But I've got a bit of work I need to do tonight."
Her brows drew together in an adorably confused furrow. He knew what she was thinking—ever since their relationship changed, they'd had an unspoken understanding that the evening was their time together, and he was breaking that rule. But after a moment, he felt her absolute trust in him wipe away any concerns, and she smiled.
"Fine," she said, drawing out the word teasingly. "But don't spend too long tinkering. You know what they say, 'All work and no play…'"
The Doctor gasped and put a hand over his hearts. "Rose Tyler! Are you saying I'm dull?"
Rose's eyes twinkled. "Never!" She pushed herself up on her toes and kissed him quickly, then sauntered out of the galley with the air of someone who knows she's being watched.
Once she was out of sight, the Doctor sighed and slumped back against the counter, guiltily relieved to be alone. When Rose was standing right in front of him, it was almost impossible to resist the siren's call of her beautiful mind, pulling him closer. And when she touched him…
He shuddered. Rose's touch had always had a profound effect on him, especially when she learned to project her emotions through a caress. But when a touch telepath touches his…
The Doctor balked at the term bond-mate. Rose hadn't agreed to that. He might have presumptively formed the connection, but he wouldn't think of her in those terms.
He shoved his hands into his hair and growled. These thoughts weren't getting him anywhere. Stalking out of the galley, he sought refuge beneath the TARDIS console, where the mechanical workings of the ship would focus his mind on something besides Rose.
oOoOoOoOo
Rose woke up alone the next morning, which did nothing to calm her gut feeling that something was bothering the Doctor. He didn't join her in bed every night, but he did more often than not, and his absence, combined with his behaviour yesterday, unnerved her.
Their temporary telepathic link was still active, and it was tempting to use it to determine his mood. That felt a bit too much like snooping, though, so Rose eased away from the connection and got out of bed.
After showering and getting dressed in jeans, a burgundy shirt, and a hot pink jacket, she went to the galley, hoping to find him preparing breakfast. But the room was empty, and judging from the dishes in the dish drainer, the Doctor had already eaten—alone. Rose took a deep breath and pushed back her disquiet enough to eat a cup of yogurt and a slice of toast, then took her tea with her to the console room.
"There you are, sleepyhead!" the Doctor chirped as soon as he saw her. "I thought you were going to sleep the day away."
Rose stared at him. The teasing was familiar, but today it sounded rehearsed—maybe because she'd actually gotten up earlier than usual.
She tilted her head and took in his appearance. The henley and blue oxford he'd worn the day before had been exchanged for a light brown oxford and a dark blue tie. So he'd spent the entire night on his own, then showered, dressed, and eaten breakfast without seeking her company.
"Well, you know," she said, belatedly realising it was her turn to say something, "human, etc etc, sleeping half our lives away and all that."
He shook his head as he turned away from her. "Such a waste of time."
Rose walked cautiously down the ramp and sat down on the jump seat. "So, what are our plans for today?"
He looked at her over his shoulder and started adjusting the coordinates. "Well, actually, I discovered last night that I'm in need of a few rare TARDIS parts."
"Oh, fun," Rose said. "Junkyard shopping."
"Actually."
He hesitated, and she went cold.
"The best place to get all the parts I need isn't very human-friendly. Scratch that, they aren't human-friendly at all. So I thought…" He tugged on his ear. "Maybe you'd like to spend a few days at home? Talk to your mum, go out with Shareen…"
Rose felt as if her breakfast had just turned into a rock in the pit of her stomach. "Couldn't I just stay in the TARDIS while you go shopping?"
The Doctor looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "We both know that plan never goes well," he said wryly.
"Only when you end up getting into trouble and I have to come rescue you!" she retorted. "An' if you're just going shopping, that shouldn't be a problem, should it?"
Consternation crossed his face, and he shook his head. "I'd rather not run the risk," he said and crossed his arms over his chest.
Rose set her cup down on the grating and stood up. "What's going on, Doctor?"
He ran a hand through his hair. "I told you, I need to get some parts—"
"Do you think I can't tell when you're lying?" Rose forced herself to keep her body in a non-confrontational pose. "Tell me what's bothering you."
The Doctor spun on his heel and went around to the other side of the console, adjusting the controls as he went. "Nothing!" he insisted.
"Then why do I feel like you're trying to take me to Mum's and just leave me there!" Rose demanded, the accusation pouring out of her before she could stop it.
"What?" He looked at her around the time rotor. "Rose, I wouldn't—"
"It seems pretty convenient is all," Rose said, interrupting his denial. "The place you need to go for parts just happens to not be human-friendly? And the best thing would be if I went home? Sorry if I don't believe you, Doctor."
The time rotor chugged as soon as she spat those words out.
"What are you doing?" Rose shrieked. "You're not just dropping me off there!"
"I didn't do anything!" he insisted. "She's flying herself."
"Well tell her to knock if off," Rose retorted. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on—and I mean the truth this time."
They landed with a hard thud, and only her quick reflexes kept Rose from falling on the floor. The Doctor sighed and pointed at the door. "We might as well go out there," he said wearily. "She's not going to let us do anything else."
Rose looked behind her and realised the corridors were all sealed off. In her mind, she let the ship know exactly what she thought about her manipulation, and the hum she got in return was not apologetic in the least.
"We aren't done with this," she growled at the Doctor as she stormed out of the TARDIS.
A moment later, he stepped out behind her and shut the door. "I don't know what's wrong, though," he muttered. "I mean, I know why she brought us here, but she feels sort of queasy. Indigestion. Like she had to force herself to land."
"Well, you were the one who said she wouldn't let us do anything else," Rose muttered. "Where are we?"
The Doctor looked around at their cramped quarters. "I think we've landed in a cupboard," he said, then opened the door and led the way into the corridor.