Tell Me, Princess

Words: 1082

There is a bit of a spoiler in here for the sixth Harry Potter book/movie.

Rose didn't know when, but somewhere along the line, she and the Doctor had become best friends. It wasn't something she thought would happen, not something she dared hope would happed, but it did. Both the Doctor and the TARDIS were her family, as close to her as the mother that took care of her single-handedly for nineteen years, her whole life, and as close as Mickey, who had spent almost his whole life chasing after her.

The TARDIS was always there for her, like a mother. A mother that barely nagged, that understood. No, more like an aunt, the kind that pampers and listens. Her presence was always there, right by Rose's side, just as she was by the Doctor's. Rose's room was always clean, new things put right where she would have put them. And of course, the fact that the ship was telepathic also helped.

And the Doctor. . . Rose didn't even know where to start there. The Timelord was damaged. He was skeptical, and sarcastic, and rude, and so, so, so hopeful. No matter what had happened in his past—something that he hadn't elaborated on but Rose knew had happened—he was always so hopeful, not only in situations, but for the future. No matter how much he put on a show, a sort of shell between him and the world, Rose knew he was a happy child inside.

That happy child had took her in, had offered her a home with him, with the only actual friend he had left. The Doctor had become her caretaker, her confidante. He showed her everything, took her everywhere. He cared for her, genuinely cared, and that was something she wasn't used to. As much as it scared her, she didn't mind.


The Doctor showed her new things.

"Get dressed, Rose!" the Doctor shouted, bounding into her room.

"Where are we going?" she asked from the bed where she was reading the latest Harry Potter book.

"I don't know," he grinned.

"What do you mean?" she wondered with a frown, walking over to him.

"The TARDIS is choosing for us," he explained, shooing her away to her closet.

"How's that?" she asked, taking a shirt off a hanger.

"Magic," the Doctor shrugged.

"Doctor," she laughed, changing out of her pajamas.

"I don't know," he sighed in defeat, leaning on the door.

"I thought you knew everything," she teased as they walked down the TARDIS's halls to the doors.

"Most things," he reached out an inviting hand. "But now what's on the other side of those doors."

"May I?" she asked excitedly, already reaching her hands toward the exit.

"Of course," he smiled at her enthusiasm.

"That's. . . odd," she said after sticking her head out.

"What?" he asked from where he stood near the Console.

"It's all. . . pink," she explained, frowning.

"Valentine!" the Doctor groaned.

"What's that?" Rose inquired.

"It's a resort. In the 37th century—you humans, you're out there right now, in the universe—you've made this place a couple paradise," he near growled in annoyance, not at Rose, but at the ship.

"Why're we here?" Rose asked.

"It's her idea of a joke," the Doctor sighed.

Not really.

What does that mean? Rose asked the ship, knowing that the words were directed at her.

Nothing, dear.


Things she wouldn't have even dreamed of seeing.

The universe. The stars. The dust that flies from place to place, never settling, always everywhere.

Victorian England. Tudor England. The American Revolutionary War. The building of the Great Sphinx.

Things that made her laugh.

"Are there things that are popular everywhere?" Rose asked once.

"What do you mean by everywhere?" the Doctor answered, puzzled.

"I mean like. . . all planets, or. . . all civilizations," she elaborated. "Something that's like a universal thing."

"Love?" he offered. "Family?"

"Really?" she asked with wide eyes, because no matter what, she was sure that it wasn't the case.

"Well, no," he shook his head. "Not everywhere. Not the Sontarans. The Daleks. The Cybermen."

"Who are they?" Rose didn't recognize the species, other than the Daleks, and was sure she didn't want to.

"You don't want to know," he confirmed her suspicions.

"Oh," she nodded.

"But other than that," he thought for a moment. "Other than those simple things, the ones that everyone wants. . . there's clowns."

"'Clowns'?" Rose repeated, sure she had heard wrong.

"What's wrong with clowns?" the Doctor defended.

"Nothing," Rose dropped the subject, determined to discuss it with the TARDIS later.


Things that made her cry.

"I don't understand," she sobbed quietly into the Doctor's shoulder.

"You shouldn't have to," he rubbed her back patiently.

"Why?" she whimpered again.

"Because life's not fair," he guessed. "Because for there to be good, there must be evil. Because writers are sadists? I don't know."

"Why?" she asked again.

"To make you cry," he offered.

"Why did he have to die?" Rose whispered.

"He didn't have to," the Doctor agreed. "He could have kept on living, but where would Harry be then?"

"I know," Rose sighed. "It's just not fair."

"I know."

"Why did Dumbledore have to die?" Rose repeated again.

Things that made her want to curse humanity to the darkest and most condemned places in the universe.

"It was torture!" Rose pounded her fists against the Doctor's chest. "They were torturing them!"

"I know," he made no move to stop her.

"Why didn't we help?" Rose continued screaming. "We could have helped!"

"I'm sorry," he said, defeated.

And he held Rose when she couldn't do it herself anymore.


Things that made her want to call whatever power was in charge of all life and put in a good word for some beings.

"Why can't everyone be like that?" Rose asked.

The Doctor followed her gaze to a young red-skinned woman helping the few survivors of the shipwreck they had tried to stop.

"There can't always be good," he sighed.

"Where do they come from?" Rose wondered.

"Her?" the Doctor devoted .45 seconds to think about the answer. "Madidr."

"No," she corrected. "People that care."

"Oh," he put an arm around her shoulders and started heading them back to the TARDIS. "We come from everywhere."


Life was never boring. A little sad—a lot sad—at times, sure. . . but life was precious. Rose had learned that with the Doctor. She also learned that she had friends. Two amazing, magnificent friends that would do anything for her. That she would do anything for.