Chapter 34 – Fallout

Surprisingly, dropping Margaret off goes very easily as Verity lands us right outside the hatchery door and it is but the work of a moment to pop in and put her in one of the incubators with another egg. Come the next shift someone will be left with a mystery but as none of the warmers has names, I suspect the cameras going out for less than a minute will never be associated with the appearance of an extra egg. Most nurseries I have ever been near are far more concerned with someone taking a youngster rather than someone smuggling in an extra one.

As I reenter the control room, I try to cheer my suddenly droopy companions. "So, who wants to see Raxacoricofallapatorius proper? I hear the have a lovely spice market. How about it? A bit of shopping?" even as I say the word shopping I see both of them wince and immediately regret my thoughtless choice of words.

After a moment Jack replies, "Actually, it's been a rather long day, you may not need to sleep as often as humans, but being one I do." with that he heads for the living quarters mouthing behind Rose's back. 'Talk to her!' vehemently before disappearing.

'He's right Theta, you do need to talk to Rose,' come Verity's quiet words.

Sudden irritation flares at the fact they both seem to feel I am incapable of figuring that out on my own. As I walk over to my beautiful pink and yellow girl, I realize Rose looks just as tired as Jack did.

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I have been thinking a lot, about how selfish I have been, and I wonder why these gorgeous blokes feel I am worth the effort. One part of me wonders if the only reason either of them wants me around is for what I can offer them, sex and comfort, and Mickey's suggestion that we find a room echoes in my ears. Even Jimmy had only wanted me as long as I was willing to 'put out' - well that, money for drugs and, in the end, as a punching bag when I refused him the first two. Because of that, the Doctor's words surprise me.

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"Rose," as she looks up from what appears to be an intent inspection of her trainers, I hold out my hand lazily, wiggling my fingers in encouragement for her to take it. "Come to bed?"

Her startled almost fearful expression concerns me but she takes my hand readily and I wonder what that was all about. Looking at me as if there is a question she wants to ask, I wait. After a moment, she shakes her head slightly. Unsure what it was she was thinking, I dismiss the action and I gently pull her into a hug and am relieved as I feel her melt into me, her arms tightening almost painfully around my sides.

I gently kiss her hair as she burrows her face in my jumper. Sliding my hand along her back, I try to sooth the anxiety I feel coming from her. It's not surprising she is upset, considering what Margaret put her through. I could kick myself for not thinking about how scared she must have been. She is always so strong and courageous; I forget at times how stressful my life must be to her. Quietly I whisper to her, as I rest my cheek on her soft hair, "I'm sorry Rose."

Her reply is muffled but easily discernable, "I'm sorry, too."

Surprised, I pull back; gently lifting her chin, I make her look at me. "Rose, you have nothing you need to say sorry to me for, it was my fault we came here, not yours. This morning you were right too, it isn't fair. I keep asking you to trust me without telling you what is going on." The look of amazement on her face somehow is rather irritating and I have to qualify. "Well, it's not like I don't tell you anything, just sometimes it's not enough."

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The Doctor's apology startles me out of my thoughts; he almost never admits he is wrong and I suddenly know how close I again came to dying from the desperation in his eyes. However, there is something else there too, now, that makes me wonder what he is thinking.

So I try to lighten things up by teasing him, even though the question is serious. I smile, and poke my tongue in the side of my mouth in a way I know he finds adorable and ask, "So, does that mean I can ask you anything now?" At his evasion, I decide that can wait as I let him draw me into a kiss. In spite of everything, all I really want right now is to feel him holding me, no matter what the reason behind his actions.

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Giving her my most cheesy grin I reply "Sure, doesn't mean I will answer, but yes." As she bats at me playfully, I capture her hand and pull her in for a kiss, which although it starts out chaste enough, doesn't stay that way. She is so warm and so gloriously alive. In so many of the timelines I saw tonight this ended in her death, something I really don't want to think about anymore. I just want to hold her, touch her, and prove to myself I'm not dreaming, that things didn't go as they could so easily have. Finally, I force myself to give her a chance to breathe. Even that small bit of space though is too much, so I recapture her lips, pulling her body tightly to mine. In return, I feel her arms tighten about me, one hand digging into the bare skin of my shoulder, which she has slipped her hand up under my jumper to reach. Her other hand she wiggles into the back pocket of my jeans, unconsciously mirroring the position of my arms and creating all kinds of tension on the front side. Far too soon, I need to again release her and this time we are both out of breath.

"Shall we move this to our room?" I ask quietly. What I want to do next is far more comfortable in bed. With a quick nod, she pulls back, grabbing my hand, and we run for the bedroom.

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As I feel a wave of need from him, it reminds me of why this life is so much better. Even if all I can give him is some physical comfort, he can and does share it with me. Whatever he gives us, gives me, is so much more, repeatedly saving us all in spite of the risks to himself and Verity. A few minutes and some lovely snogging later I am more than interested in moving it to 'our' room and I feel a wave of comfort at his use of that simple three-letter word, as I am pretty sure that up to this point he has never called that.

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As we reach the room Rose has been sharing with me, and the door closes behind us, we resume our interrupted kiss. This time both of us waste no time in helping the other in shucking out of our now very unwanted clothes. With clothing disposed of, I let my hands roam over her soft warm body, so hot and alive but most importantly Rose. As her hot little hands grab, caress and explore, I moan as she abruptly pulls our bodies tightly together again, compressing my manhood against the incredibly soft surface of her belly which at the same time delivers to my nose a huge waft of her sweet scent. Part of my mind yells that I really need to talk with her, but the rest of me wants this feeling of being lost in her touch for a time. I promise myself in the morning we will talk even as her soft warm hands continue to roam.

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One moment I am sleeping, the next I am wide-awake as I hear Rose's cries of distress.

It takes but fractions of a second to realize Rose is having a nightmare, a bad nightmare. Never in all the time we have traveled together have I her cry out in her sleep like this. It chills me, and at the same time makes me boil with anger as I hear her because I know someone has hurt her.

"No please, Jimmy, please don't do this..." another helpless whimper of pain comes from her tightly curled form huddled in the bed with me. "Please... didn't mean…" and yet another small cry emerges even as I am moving to wake her. As I do, I smell the terror in her sweat wafting off her, like cheap perfume off of a prostitute. Rarely have I smelled her this scared, and those times she had been physically hurt so badly I too had been afraid for her life. This was the smell of someone who had been trapped, and it was flavored with hopelessness. I was far too familiar from my time in the war with this scent. I have smelt it far too many times as I watched human allies die, helpless to ease their suffering. Never should my Rose smell like this! In an intuitive leap, I suddenly connect this with the image of an angry, ginger haired boy I had seen in her memories a few days ago and about which I had never had a chance to ask her.

As I shake her, she jolts awake jerking back from me in her fright before finally coming to full consciousness, at which point she lunges forward to cling to me. As she sobs in distress, I know whomever did this will pay for hurting her, for hurting MY Rose. As I sooth her trembling form, I know even more how badly I have fallen for this fragile human.

As her tears begin to slow, I ask, "Who is he, Rose? Who hurt you?"

I feel her shake he head where her face is pressed against my chest and am disconcerted at her refusal. "Rose?"

Suddenly, she is pushing away from me and feel a wave of determination and shame from her.

"No, Doctor, it doesn't work that way. You don't get to keep your secrets and expect me to give you mine." With that, she bolts from the bed, entering the ensuite, and I know without moving that the door has locked behind her and I stare at the door, stunned at her words.

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As Rose's reoccurring nightmare about her break-up with Jimmy Stone resurfaces in her memories, I do not push it away from her as I have in the past. It is time for Theta to realize that he is not the only one in their relationship that has been hurt, and has things they are not proud of that they have done.

I begin to regret my decision, though, as Rose begins to relive that traumatic event. I nudge Theta awake so he can wake her, so it is no surprise when I feel his anguish over Rose's refusal and demands to know the details from me.

'Theta, for shame! Do you really think I am going to tell you? She just made it very clear she doesn't want you to know.'

'But he hurt her, you know he did.' Is his petulant reply and much as I want him to know, and actually, he needs to know, to prevent the impending paradox I can feel, it is not my place to tell him and I won't unless given no other choice. 'Theta, I told you last night you needed to speak with her.'

'But I thought...'

'Yes, you thought but you didn't act!' and with that I feel his wave of remorse. 'Theta, just talk to her,' I prompt, as I feel his mind spin off in to self-recriminations and guilt.

'Fine, but I'm not doing this naked!' he states, as if expecting me to argue with him.

I am relieved when he leaves the bed to dress before approach the ensuite, giving them both a bit more time to come to terms with what they need to talk about. His insistence on dressing really is no surprise to me - Theta hates these kinds of conversations, even when it's just us two and we have the advantage of over 800 years of dealing with each other's idiosyncrasies. With Rose and him, practically everything is some type of exposure, so wanting to be able to at least hide physically helps him deal with that a bit better.

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I wake to a nightmare that I haven't had in a long while and at first gratefully cling to the Doctor as I shake off the dream. I had thought that Verity had been shielding me from it, based on her knowledge of what had happened. Now I wonder, but as the Doctor starts asking about what has upset me, I can't tell him. The shame of how I let Jimmy use me rushes in, and I think of the first reason I can for not telling him as I dash for a shower to wash away the sweat and tears I always find myself coated in each time I have this nightmare.

As I shower I think about how I hate Jimmy, hate how remembering him hurting me gives me nightmares. Hate knowing that I willingly gave him my virginity because of the way he flattered me and made me feel pretty and smart when there were men like the Doctor and Mickey around. Even on his worst days, Mickey is more of a man than it had turned out Jimmy was, which as sweet as he is doesn't even get him in the same league as the Doctor. At that time though, I was just too blinded by his flattery and sweet words to see him for what he was, a weasel.

In spite of how frustrating the Doctor can be, and the fact he has never once told me he loves me, I know he cares about me more in one day than Jimmy did the entire time I knew him. As I think of the Doctor's words in Ten Downing Street, I know where I rate in his life, in spite of his reluctance to telling me in words. His actions have said over and over how much he cares. I also have a small idea of how much he has been hurt by the war. So, I can't exactly blame him for him for trying to avoid being hurt again, in spite of my frustrations at his lack of communication. I just wish…

I turn off the water as I hear the Doctor call in a tentative voice ,which gives me hope that he isn't angry and coming to throw me out.

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"Rose?" I know Verity said she was taking a shower but I feel her distress like a beacon. It's almost a physical pain to me, feeling her this upset, as it doesn't seem like she is attempting to shield herself at all. So when I reach for the door I know it will now be unlocked.

"Rose?"

"Yeah," comes her quiet reply as she turns off the water and I can both feel and hear the hesitancy in her voice.

"Can we talk?" A moment later, I see her hand appear from around the door of the shower to grab a large fluffy towel almost the size of a small blanket. I smile when I think of some of the small towels I have found over the years when Verity was upset with me. Less than a minute later, Rose is emerging from the shower, looking damp and beautiful.

Looking timid and at least as nervous as I feel she says, "So, wha' you wanna talk about?"

Taking her hand, I lead her back into our room to find it now contains to very comfortable looking set of chairs near the head of the bed. I look at ceiling and ask Verity, 'Hint, much?'

I get a gentle whisper of amusement from Rose before she says, "Seems like you're not the only one who wants us to talk."

"Appears that way," I say with a small, rueful smile. In spite of my irritation at Verity's meddling, I am glad that it has put Rose more at ease.

As we sit, I notice Rose curls her feet up in the chair, unconsciously shielding herself from whatever it is I have ask to talk with her about.

"Rose, you know I'm rubbish at this so please just hear me out." The look she gives me is one of confusion, but she nods for me to continue.

I hate this, I don't know what to say, I can talk circles around megalomaniacs wanting to take over the universe, faced down everything from Autons to Zygons, but this, talking to this young human, scares me in a way none of the rest ever did. Finally I just blurt out what I had been thinking, "Rose, if I took you to meet a friend of mine would it help? Ya know, make you feel less... I don't know, less whatever it is that is upsetting you?"

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I stare at him in complete disbelief. Did he just... I mean did he really just offer to let me... to take me to meet someone from his past?

"Rose? Say something." Comes his plea.

I suddenly realize that I have been staring at him in disbelief and launch myself into his arms, "Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Oh Doctor you mean it?"

"I offered, didn't I?"

I can't believe he has offered a window in to his life like this; he has never talked about friends, always shying away from any discussions of his life before I joined him. He is so reluctant to talk about it in fact that sometimes I forget exactly how much older he is than me, until something comes up and I see the storm and darkness in his eyes. I know it is just part of the way he deals with spending so much time with us short-lived humans. He walks away, and for the most part never looks back.