A.N. I don't own anything but the little idea.
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At first I couldn't figure out why the TARDIS had woke me. The old girl literally threw me out of bed, but was too skittish to tell me why. It was a scream that answered the question of why. A scream brought back old memories of the last time I was on this ship. The old doctor got to the screaming stage only once before. She had been drugged at a bar, and had to sleep it off. The doctor woke me up screaming her name and I took a shot at the jaw during that one.
I met up with Martha in the hallway, with a look I tried to tell her to leave. She doesn't know it but she doesn't want to walk this path. She ignores the look I send her, her own fault then. She will soon learn just why I wanted her not to see this. The door to Doctors room was closed, probably locked but I don't even feel the door as I slam against it. The door easily buckles under the weight of my body and I rush over to the bad. I hate to have to wake him up like this but being gentle may do more harm than good at this point. With a deep breath I shake his shoulders and shout at him to wake up. I know how he will wake up, we are similar enough that when we are jolted we both wake up fists swinging trying to fight off the demons we see in our sleep. When it comes quicker than I expected I just try to roll with the punch, going boneless and letting the power behind it throw me from the bed. I just wish I could've woken him like She does…like she did.
She used to wake us up gently with soothing touches and quiet words in gently hummed lullabies. I remember should always combed through my hair with her fingers. She treated me like I was a child, but it wasn't condescending just motherly. I never woke up violently after that first night, the nightmares still came but she would soothe them. She wouldn't ask what was wrong instead she offered hot chocolate or tea and understanding ear. Many nights I would wind up crying into her shoulder. I never thought to question why she offered comfort during our bad nights. I was never even curious to wonder how she knew we were having the nightmare, let alone what we needed so we could forget it.
She may have been a mother with me but for him she was a lover and practically a wife. After the Doctor's first nightmare I asked the TARDIS to wake me before he got to that state ever again. It didn't even occur to me that Rose would do the same thing. So when three days later the TARDIS woke me, it was with some surprise I found the doc clutching Rose. He was holding her so tightly I knew she would have bruises. She said not one word of complaint just held him and when he started to wake she kissed him. The doctor held onto her like she was the only light in the darkness, like she was water in the desert. He held onto her like he loved her and she knew that he did so she let him. She let him lay down next to her as she wrapped her arms around him and placed his head on her chest. She gave him the rest he needed and listened to his half-asleep ramblings. She was there, she was solid, and she stayed. That's what he needed the most at night when those dreams started to creep in as they always do.
Coming out of my thoughts and daze of the punch I look around the room and see Martha clutching the door frame looking too terrified to move. I realize in that instant that this is the first time she's seen him like this, the first time she has ever seen him in the grips of a nightmare. I don't understand how that's possible because she has been with him for months. It took me a second to realize just what was going on. See, I knew that Time Lords could run on less sleep than a human, but he had to have slept sometime. If Martha had never seen him like this then how many times has he woken up during the throes of a nightmare? Just how many times has he not been able to wake himself and the TARDIS had to do it for him?
Looking at him now I can't help wonder how many times he got like this before Rose came. How many times did he wake up arching out of bed with a scream? I can't help but wonder just how bad he was when she got here. I know he wasn't this bad when I last saw him. When I left he hadn't had a bad nightmare in weeks. The last time he had a nightmare was two days before the game station. He had pulled himself together in a matter of seconds after he woke up. He just didn't let Rose know that though. He held her, for the simple pleasure of it. Just because he could. I can't help but be scared for I now realize it's been almost a full minute and he still is out of it.
He looked different than for a moment I couldn't place what had changed. And then it dawned on me his guard was down. His mental shields were completely gone which allowed everything he had been hiding to be fully seen in the light. I knew before Martha even told me that the Doc wears masks. He did the same thing back when I was a companion, but he wore them less around Rose. He let himself be seen by her truly and fully and everything he hides from everyone else he showed her. Even as I noticed this he pulls the shields back together. Replacing his inner masks and hiding everything that would scare us humans. With a deep breath he, (well he's not the old doctor) but he seems somewhat normal or as close to normal as he can get nowadays.
He offers me a hand up off the floor and I know no apologies needed nor am I sure I would expect him to offer one. I hear his absentmindedly mention something about meeting us for tea in the kitchen as he wanders over to an open door. I can only assume it's a shower based on the steam pouring out around the door frame. Looking at him now I know that I would give up my life just to give him Rose back. Truly seeing him now I realize how lost he is without her.
I attempt to make tea while we wait for him in the kitchen. I didn't know that he doesn't take his tea the same way anymore, the grimace on his face as he does take the swallow tells me that. He has a look about him, a look I've never seen before. Something just doesn't sit right with me...and then it hits me he's about to tell us everything. Everything we do or don't want to know. In that moment I know he needs a distraction, something, anything, to keep him from not saying whatever it is he's going to say. The ringing of a cell phone answers my prayers.
I manage to fumble for the phone and answer it before the caller on the other end gives up and stops trying to reach me. It's my team they're calling because they need my help. Some new type of alien, humanoid, just dropped into the middle of the base. With nary a word between the three us we're up and heading to the control room. I don't know how she did it, but I can't help but thank the TARDIS, this is the distraction I wanted.
