So, a little shorter than normal, just something to keep you from wondering where I went in case I don't update soon. See, college is starting next week (eeep!), and I've been busy getting everything settled. Anyway, read as little or as much into this as you like; fluff is definitley present, but it's light fluff. So no cavities


On Heartbeats

The room is quiet, and Rose listened to the sound of the Doctor's heartbeats as they laid together in her bed. They were beating soothingly in her ear, assuring her that he was still there with her. He had died before her eyes, and it had been her fault; the pain of losing him had been too awful to bear, and she nearly gave up then and there. Because of her stupid selfishness and stubbornness, he had died trying to give her a life with her father.

And she hadn't even realized that he was far, far more important than her long dead dad until it was too late.

She didn't regret meeting her father; even that short amount of time she spent with him had opened her eyes to the man he truly was, the good and the bad, and that made him even more of a man and less of an ideal in her eyes. Her parent's marriage hadn't been perfect, and that made her hope. Hope that her relationship with the Doctor would turn out alright even if he kept her at arm's length. Hope that their dysfunctional lifestyle hid a deeper bond, a bond that would connect them through eons. Even as her parents argued and fought and claimed to despise each other, she knew that they loved each other. Knew in the way her father would stare after her mother as she stormed off, longing and desperation in his eyes, the way her mother would still return and act as if nothing had happened and cling to her father as if it would be the last chance to see him. The look in their eyes, the unconscious contact of hands brushing arms or shoulders, the way they knew where the other was in the room even without actively seeking the other out. She wanted a romance like that, maybe without all the misunderstandings and infidelity, but one like her parents nonetheless.

She wanted to share it with the Doctor.

She didn't need a house, a mortgage, a wedding, children, all the things that society expected of a normal couple; instead she needed that connection, the sense of belonging with the other, completing each other in every sense of the word and knowing that someone would always be there for her even in her darkest hours. She had once envisioned that with Mickey, but after Downing Street ("I could save the world but lose you...!") she knew she only wanted to fit into society's definition of normality. With the Doctor, she finally believed, for the first time in her life, that she belonged. Maybe he didn't want her like that. Maybe he only saw her as someone to show off to. But to her, he was so much more, a dream becoming reality, a new way of living, the chance to truly become who she was meant to be. Most importantly, he was the only man in the universe who had stolen her heart one hundred percent, and the only one she wanted to spend forever with.

And she had almost lost him before she could tell him how much he truly meant to her.

Glancing up at his face, she smiled softly as she realized that, for the first time in a long time, the Doctor was sleeping. The normal crease between his eyebrows was gone, smoothed over in dreams. His mouth was turned up in a small smile, and it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Even his giant, wonderful grins and joyous laughter didn't compare to this. He looked relaxed, calm, the usual horrors that haunted him gone temporarily, allowing him peace. Hesitantly she reached up and brushed gentle fingertips along his face, ghosting over his skin and tracing his jawline. He moved slightly, as if seeking her touch, even in sleep trying to reassure himself that she was there. Swallowing, she whispered, quietly, "I wish I could see you like this more often."

He didn't respond, merely sighed and rolled over to face her fully. Wriggling forward so that their noses were centimeters apart, she took in every feature. Her eyes roved over his face, committing every little detail to memory, wanting to remember this moment. Her desperation, fueled by the fear of nearly losing him because of her stupid selfishness, only made this moment far more precious; so long as he was here, by her, safe and alive and his arms around her, she didn't care if this never happened again. If, in a moment of fear and loneliness and guilt and sorrow, she desperately clutched at him, asking him to stay with her just so she knew he was there, and he said no instead of "I'll always be here." She still had this memory, this moment, and that was enough.

The Doctor's heartbeats, strong and confident under her cheek, sounded like the most beautiful music. The steady, four-beat rhythm, alien and familiar, lulled her into a light doze as she continued to stare at him, her fingers hovering over his face before gently tracing his lips, soft as a butterfly's wing and gone before it was noticed. Sleepily, softly, she smiled, her hand falling back to his chest and joining him in the realm of dreams.

In the quiet, their hearts kept beat to each other, forever dancing to the same rhythm, forever linked to the other.