A/N: Coauthored by HelplesslyNerdy (on Tumblr/Tsp) and myself.
She leans back to her pillow with a sigh. Ping! She rolls to her side towards the noise. Ping! Ping! Pebbles on her windowpane. Isaac. She trudges over to her window, sliding it up. "Go home, Isaac," she whispers loudly. "It's one in the morning!"
"Rose?"
Dr. Smith. She takes a small step back as she recognizes the voice. "What are you doing?" she hisses. "It's one in the morning!"
"So you said! I couldn't leave things like that between us."
She leans back from both hands on the sill, head between her arms, before straightening up again. "Couldn't this wait until morning?"
"No!"
"I'm pretty sure it can!"
"I want to make things right, now! I won't be getting any rest until I can reconcile with the woman I love, even if I have to stand out here all night!"
She gasps, stumbles back, and fumbles to get her cane. Before her brain even reconnects with her body, she's already out the door. It's a good thing she can't see, otherwise he'd be a bloody pulp by the time she's done with him. She makes her way off the porch around the house.
"Rose?" He's getting closer, so she swipes her cane in front of her, barring him. He yelps softly, and she hears the crunch of grass, probably him leaping back.
"How dare you!" The anger is rolling off her in waves, making her tremble. "What on earth am I supposed to do with that?" And I had to hear this from you when you're not even yourself.
"These aren't ideal circumstances, I know, but-"
"You'd better explain yourself!"
"I will!" After a beat, he replies, a little more placatingly, "Could we walk? I mean, I'd prefer it if we weren't within earshot."
She clenches her jaw before nodding. If Nurse Redfern were to wake and see them, it wouldn't be good for anyone. They walk in relative silence until they reach the river. She settles on her rock, and she hears him settle on the grass nearby. When he doesn't speak, she begins tapping her cane against the rock. More to relieve her muscle tension than anything else. His hand tentatively covers hers before removing the cane. She pulls back, and it clatters to the ground.
"Rose, I am sorry. I shouldn't have announced my feelings in that manner."
"That isn't enough."
"I know. I wish it were."
She tries to swallow past the lump in her throat before asking softly, "Do you love Nurse Redfern, too?"
"What?" he splutters. "No, most definitely not. Actually, I'm at a loss to know why you think I do." His voice rises in pitch as he sounds more indignant. "I was sitting there in shock when you ran inside!"
"You kissed her! And the walking to church, and she-" She closes her eyes, not wanting to think of how jealous she sounds right now. When he doesn't respond, she continues, "Mary saw you both."
"…oh." He says, very quietly. "It wasn't what you think, Rose."
"Mary seemed to think it was."
"Look," she hears the scratch of fingers through hair, "Nurse Redfern has been the only friend I've made since first arriving here. And she's had a rough time of it, herself. What Mary saw was an unintentional occurrence. We had been talking, and she had been explaining how it had been since losing her fiancé. I have…known loss." He clears his throat. "And I was trying to give her some measure of comfort. Let her know that I knew what it feels like. Before I realized it, she was kissing me."
Rose worries her lip, curling her knees up to her chest.
"I know it wasn't fair, believe me. I've been self-flagellating over it since that moment. But it was comfort imparted between us. And when I realized that she was taking more from it than I meant, I broke away." She hears him closer to her than before. "Rose, please. I promise, I don't feel anything more for her than friendship."
"Did you explain that to her?"
"Er- not as such. I couldn't bear-" he pauses, "I couldn't bear to hurt her when she was so vulnerable."
She scoffs. "Typical. You think that letting this go won't hurt her worse in the long run?"
"I know. And I will make it right immediately." His eagerness makes her want to believe him, to forgive him, but she's still wary.
"Can you ever forgive me, Rose?"
She lets out a puff of air. Can she? "I'm not the one who you need to be apologizing to."
"I know. But can we- can we move past this?"
A part of her doesn't want to forgive him. For that matter, she doesn't want to move past the fact that the Doctor left her in the first place, sticking her in this situation. And how much it just plain hurts that the first real, honest apology she receives from him that doesn't involve a lot of evasion and a lot half-made sentences is in the middle of this, from Dr. Smith and not the Doctor himself. But…she really does have no claim on this man, human or Time Lord.
She draws in a shuddering breath. "I'd like to think so."
He moves to take her hand, but as she feels his hand on hers, she draws back, and he doesn't press. "Good." She hears movement, as if he is standing. "Here, will you walk some more with me? I'd like to take you somewhere." She again feels him trying to take her hand to help her up, and this time she accepts. Once she's standing, he loops her hand tentatively through his arm. She rolls her eyes before gently squeezing it, letting him know it's all right. She can almost feel that grin radiating off him, and it hurts how much she misses seeing it.
They come to the edge of the forest, a little farther than she remembers being, and then he takes her off a path into long grass.
"Where are we going?"
"Oh, one of my favorite haunts. I know you can't, weeell- I know you won't see it, but I thought you might want…"
She merely tightens her grip on his arm and smiles. He's put his foot in it enough tonight for her to keep punishing him. "Why don't you describe it to me?"
"Nope," he pops the 'p'. "I want you to describe it to me."
She lets go of his arm and gives him what she hopes is a withering look.
"Come on!" his voice hits that higher octave that is oh-so-familiar. "I want to experience this through you, too. Just because I see it doesn't mean that I will notice everything you can." She feels his hand lightly take hers lest she pull it away quickly. "Please?"
With a beleaguered sigh, she nods as she threads her fingers through his. "Well, what do you want me to tell you?"
"All of it."
She rolls her eyes. "Well, I know we're in long grass." She lets go again of his hand to tentatively step forward. "If you let me bump into something, I'm gonna kill you."
He chuckles. "I wouldn't dream of it."
She crouches down, palm facing the ground to feel the grass. She pulls a blade through her fingers, finding that it had a soft, thick top. "I bet this is pretty when the breeze blows past." Raising the grass to her chin, she absentmindedly brushes it back and forth. "That was one of my mum's favorite views- the wind blowing through tall grass. Like waves on the sea. We never had much money for holidays, and she hated the sand anyway. But we always went for picnics near parks with long grass." She lightly tosses the blade away, trying to keep from letting those thoughts get to her. "Sure you know what kind of grass that was with all your extensive herbalist knowledge," she teases.
"It's reed-grass," he explains, refusing to be baited.
"Ah. Well, keep going then?" She sniffs the air. The muggy moisture of early summer is making the short hairs of her neck curl. "I can smell the- is that honeysuckle?"
"There are a few of the plants around us, yes."
"'S almost…heavy. Kind of similar to when you get stuck in a lift with some woman with no sense of smell and loads of perfume."
"A…lift? What is that?"
She curses internally. "It's…it's another word for a carriage."
"Mmm. Curious. Well, I was never much for keeping up with the times."
"So I've noticed." She grins before she turns to where she senses his presence. "Is there a clear path in front of me for a few paces?"
"A couple hundred meters, maybe. Why?"
She doesn't answer, and instead takes off running. Her limbs groan after the weeks of disuse, but she feels more herself than she has since this whole thing began. That's one of the things she hates most about the whole bleeding mess. She could run from monsters with the best of them.
You can't run from being blind.
You can't run from your best friend not being the same man.
But, for these few precious minutes, she pretends.
The air rushes past her ears, drowning out all other sound.
She steps wrong on a clod of ground and loses her footing, falling forward. She catches herself on her hands inches above the ground.
"Rose! Are you all right?" He is now running towards her. After a split-second of self-assessment, the absurdity of a blind girl running willy nilly gets to her, and she starts to giggle as she rolls to her back.
He reaches her and he sounds close. She feels the vibrations in the ground and assumes he is kneeling beside her. "What on earth were you thinking? Did you lose what little sense you had to begin with?"
His lack of jest just makes her laugh even harder.
She hears a huff and then a soft thud beside her. "What are you doing?"
"Since you decided to become completely ridiculous, I thought I would lie here and wait it out." The previous edge of concern to his voice has softened. "Besides, it's a clear night. All of the stars are out."
"Tell me about them."
"You aren't finished telling me what you sense."
She snorts. Both of them are stubborn pieces of work- but all this is more like her pesky Doctor. "Fiiiine." She lets her heart rate settle, lets the pounding in her ears give to the other sounds around her. "The crickets and cicadas are so noisy. It took me more than a week to get used to them." A beat passes and he doesn't respond, and she blurts, "Try not to think about the silence, though."
"Why?"
She lies there quietly for a few seconds and hears the crinkle of starched cotton. Probably facing her. "I never knew how loud silence can be."
His hand takes hers confidently- the Doctor's natural, yet firm grip. She brushes her thumb over his, trying to retain nonchalance so he won't know how affected she is by it.
Just holding hands- nothing serious, right? She closes her eyes. She just feels so…alone. And here's a man who obviously wants her- and isn't afraid to go for it.
But how much of that is actually the Doctor? Is he even in there at all? Or is she falling for a shadow just because he's willing to give her more?
They continue to lay in silence, hands clasped. After a minute or two passes, Dr. Smith speaks. "Ursa Major and Ursa Minor are out tonight."
"The Dippers?"
She hears him shift towards her. "You've studied astronomy?"
"Oh, just picked up a little here and there."
"Tonight there's Aquila, Saggitta, and Cygnus." With each one, he lifts the hand she's holding and points towards the star clusters. "Three of the summer constellations. Then there's Vega. Brilliant star. It's from the Lyre Constellation. A reference to Orpheus."
They lay there, the cacophony of the night the only noise. Before she could overthink the consequences she asks, "Who did you lose?"
His grip tightens on her hand. She runs her thumb over the top of his hand- trying to soothe, or as an apology, if need be. "There was a girl. And I-" he clears his throat. "I didn't say, and I hope she knew. I was going to lose her. I just couldn't stay…she deserved better."
"What happened to her?" she whispers, afraid to interrupt too loudly.
"She, she…"
When his words fail, she leans her other arm over to rub his arm above where she's holding his hand. She decides to change the subject. "Wasn't Orpheus the bloke that went to the Underworld after his wife?"
"Yes. And didn't trust her enough to come after him. The moment before they would have been safe, he lost her. His own folly." He has let her hand go.
She allows him a few minutes, as it seems he is still wrapped up in his manufactured past. How much of that was real? Did he leave his planet because of a girl? She shakes her head, trying to clear it. "I remember thinking that the constellations never much looked like the stories they were supposed to tell."
"Weeeeelll, you know how it is. People always look for their favorite stories in things. Always look for…connections." With the last word, his fingers begin to brush along the veins in her wrist. "A way to pull everything in their lives together." His fingers continue to trip lightly along until his palm ghosts over hers. Rose tries to keep her breathing steady. "Aren't we all just stories in the end?" He finally laces his fingers through hers again, but draws her hand towards him and they hover for a second before she feels the press of his lips upon her fingers.
This is wrong.
This isn't the Doctor.
She can't be falling for this doppelgänger.
This is wrong.
She jerks her hand away, jumping to her feet and unsteadily walking away.
"Rose?"
She turns to face where she thinks he's standing. "I—" Words fail her.
All she hears is a soft click of him swallowing before his hands are on her elbows and his lips are pressed to hers. They're gone almost as quickly as she realizes what is going on. He's also gone, the only evidence that he is still nearby is his labored breath.
Don't want to be alone anymore.
She reaches out towards him, fingers grasping the air in front of her. "Doctor?" As she moves to drop her hand back to her side, crestfallen, it catches on the cotton of his shirt. She holds the fabric and uses it to guide herself closer. He stands, as still as a statue, not touching her.
She lays her other hand on his chest, right over his single, rapidly thrumming heartbeat. The other hand mirrors on the other side of his chest. The cicadas fade to the background until all she hears is his breath, his heart. She allows her hands to slowly slide up until they reach the skin of his neck. Slightly sticky from the humidity. The beginnings of stubble start mid-neck, and her fingertips catch a little as they continue up. When her palms are cupping his cheeks, she stops.
"You called me 'Doctor,'" his voice rumbles in his lowest register. With each syllable, she feels his breath on her face.
She allows a small smile. She lifts her hands so just her fingertips are resting on his face. This would be pushing it with the Doctor- but she isn't going to waste this excuse to do something she had only dreamt of doing.
"Can I touch- ?"
Her arms move slightly as he nods.
Her fingers start at his forehead, lightly sweeping through the fringe that is still, to her delight, a mess. From his hair to his skin, from skin to those eyebrows. The one on the right arches impossibly high, and she bites her lip against a grin. As her fingers slide lower and touch his temples, he breathes in sharply. Dancing in, her fingers are tickled by his lashes. She allows just her index finger to trace the line of his nose. Her left hand comes to rest on the side of his neck, her fingernails scratching through the short hairs. Her touch traces his high cheekbones, continuing along to jawline until she reaches his chin. She traces up the cleft and pauses before reaching his lips.
Oh, what she would give to see his eyes right now.
She hesitantly touches his bottom lip. As she begins to trace along them, she feels them part, feels the heat of his breath. Her fingers finish a circuit, and both her hands are at either side of his face, where they began.
A breathless moment.
He cups the back of her head as she tugs his face down. There is no finesse, no delicacy from earlier in the night. He's…everywhere. Her senses caught up in just him. His left arm wrapping around her back, his right hand tangling in her hair. Smelling the tang of sweat, harsh soap, and peppermint. The rigid plateaus of his shoulder blades, the catch of his stubble against her cheeks. All in the midst of the way his lips contour to hers.
When her hair falls from the clasp, tugged loose by his fingers, they both draw back, panting. His lips lean against her forehead, not really a buss, but not without pressure as his breath warms her skin cooling in the night air. His nose burrows into her hairline, and her arms reflexively tighten around his thin waist. She shifts so her head is on his chest, burying her face to suppress a contented sigh.
A twig snapping brings them out of their little bubble. A couple more snaps cause the Doctor, Dr. Smith, she corrects, to wrap his arms again around her waist, placing her slightly behind him. Her fingers press into his shirt, a warmth spreading in her chest despite the fear. He was now protecting her. She shook her head, willing away the fluttery feelings.
What if the hunters, the 'Nameless,' had found them here out in the open?
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
After a tense moment, nothing has happened. But she's not about to risk it further.
"Best be getting back, yeah?" She tries to keep the tremor from her voice.
He takes her hand and starts leading her back to the village.
When they get back to Nurse Redfern's, she expects that he will try to kiss her again. A little distance from the situation, and now she isn't sure what she wants. When they reach the porch, he brings her fingers that are intertwined with his up and again kisses them.
"Goodnight, Rose."
He holds her hand as he backs away, and she finds that she doesn't want to let go, either. When her arm is held at full length, she finally lets her fingers slip from his.
"Night."
She tries to make as little noise going up the stairs as possible. Once she's down to her shift, she climbs into bed. But there's no way she's going to sleep after that night. After everything that's happened. Especially since she needs to figure out…
The sunlight warms her face. She groggily leans forward, trying to smooth the haystack she can feel on the top of her head. This is the first time she's had a dreamless sleep since arriving. And her head isn't letting her forget that fact. She cleans herself up a little at the washbasin before going downstairs to scrounge up some breakfast. Usually Nurse Redfern leaves her a piece of fruit before heading out that morning, but she must have been called away. The clock chimed the hour while she was dressing. Nine. Late for her now, but she had been out until almost three the last evening.
She is cutting some bread she found to munch on when there is a knock at the door. She wipes her hands on her apron before heading to the door and opening it.
"Hello?" she asks when the person doesn't say anything. She feels familiar fingers lace between hers. She can't help the beam that spreads across her face.
"Run!"
Before she can react, Dr. Smith is pulling her out the door and around behind the house. When they stop, she leans against the wall, panting. "What's going on? Is something wrong?"
"No." His hands frame her face, thumbs smoothing over the apples of her cheeks. "Quite the opposite, in fact." Before she can respond, his lips cover hers.
The kiss is short and sweet, much more like the first kiss she always imagined they would have had that didn't involve a life-threatening situation.
He takes a step back, his hands rubbing her upper arms. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do that. It feels like years."
She lifts a hand, seeking his face, and he leans into her palm. Her thumb traces the corner of his wide smile, which she matches. Opening her mouth to speak, she is interrupted by the rumble of her stomach.
She shrugs. "I haven't had my breakfast yet."
His giggle is so close to the Doctor's, her heart clenches. She is once again pulled into a brief kiss before he leads her back around the front of the house.
"You go eat your breakfast. I need to make a few calls in this area anyway." When they come to the front of the house, he lets go of her hand. "May I come 'round later? We could maybe go for a walk."
"I'd like that." She tucks her chin, hoping that the blush she feels creeping into her cheeks isn't as apparent to him in the morning light.
"Good morning, Miss Tyler."
She gives him a light shove. "I'll see you later."
The morning goes by much as usual, her doing what little chores Nurse Redfern has allotted her. The thought of the woman makes her feel quite guilty now. Hopefully Dr. Smith is a man of his word and took care of it this morning. Though, it would make for very awkward living arrangements. But maybe she'd be adult about it.
At least, she hopes the nurse would be.
Rose is cleaning up the dishes when a sharp pain shoots through her skull. The dish she is holding falls into the tub with a clatter as she digs the heels of her palms into her temples. After a couple of deep breaths the pain subsides, and she opens her eyes to a fuzzy, white blur.
She can see something.
She can see!
Trembling fingers work at the knot in her apron. She has to go and find the Doctor and tell him the good news. The white blur shifts in brightness as she moves, and she figures that it's the change of intensity of light through the house.
She can see!
She takes her cane and immediately goes off in the direction of the Doctor's house. Not wanting the villagers to try and hinder her is the only thing keeping her from breaking out into a full run. Once she reaches his house, she bounds up the steps and to the door. When she goes to knock, she finds that it's already open.
"Doctor! Doctor, come quickly!"
She walks further into the house, knowing that he still had a tendency to get wrapped up in his work and do silly things like leave doors wide open. As she reaches forward, her foot knocks into something soft. A tiny moan makes her stop. Did an animal get in here?
As she backs up, she kneels down, trying to see what little she can. She reaches out and touches…clothing. The white blur she sees darkens as she looks down.
She reaches out and realizes it's a person on the floor. The starched cotton, the arm, the long fingers that she knows almost as well as her own- she begins to shake his shoulder. "Doctor." Nothing. "Doctor! What's happened?" She reaches across his chest, trying to find his face. Her hand touching the fabric is suddenly warm and sticky.
All she can see is…red.
Rose screams.
