Chapter 35 - Unraveling

For what seemed like forever the whole room stood frozen.

"I saved the woman you love. I saved you. And you do this to me?" the Doctor said, his words echoing in the quiet room.

"I'm trying to be kind," Fox told him. Mr. Lux was looking from one man to the other, not understanding anymore than Rose did at the moment.

"Come on, Rose," the Doctor said, tugging her along. Rose kept glancing back at Fox as they made their way up the stairs. He watched them go, a terribly sad expression on his face. The Doctor led her back towards the TARDIS.

"What did he mean?" Rose asked him. But the Doctor didn't answer. As he opened the blue door Rose pulled free of his hold on her hand. "Tell me."

"It's nothing," the Doctor said. "Get inside, Rose, please." But Rose shook her head, backing away from him.

"No," she said. "Last night, you said no more hiding things." His eyes narrowed on hers.

"You heard that?" he asked, Rose nodded. The Doctor sighed in defeat. "The Ood. They said the same thing. Exactly the same thing. That my song was ending."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know."

The Doctor disappeared inside the TARDIS. Rose quickly followed.

"Are you going to die?" she asked as the door swung shut behind her. The Doctor stopped halfway up the ramp.

"No, I'm not," he said with such conviction she could not help but believe him. "But would it matter if I did?"

Rose stared at his back in horror. "How can you say that?" she asked. He turned around.

"Well, you're going to leave me anyway, aren't you?" he pointed out. Rose was shaking her head.

"Don't do that," she told him.

"Do what?"

"Do you honestly think I want to leave you?"

"I don't know!" He took a couple of steps towards her. "I don't know," he repeated, throwing out his hands to his sides.

"I don't," Rose said after a while.

"But something will happen," the Doctor said. "Right? Something will happen that will make you want to."

"Nothing could ever make me want to," Rose said with conviction. He took another couple of steps towards her.

"Don't be so sure," he said. Rose's eyes narrowed on his.

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

She watched him as he came over to her. There was so much edged into that face of his. He'd seen so much. So much beauty. So much pain. Far more than she ever would and yet when he looked at her it was like he was thankful for all of it. Every loss he'd suffered, every heartbreak because without them he might never have met her.

"Maybe, you're right," he said. She stared at him in confusion. Suddenly those cracks she'd seen in his certainty. The certainty that if she loved him even a fraction as much as he loved her she could never leave him. Those cracks were given meaning.

The Doctor reached out and captured her hand in his. Rose felt him as he did. It was so difficult to put into words what actually happened when they touched. She didn't just feel it in her hand. Every part of her body was aware of it, responded to it. He brushed his thumb lightly across hers. The small movement ran through her like ripples on the water. She could feel that the wall he'd put up to hide his fear from her was almost completely down. He didn't have the strength to hold it up anymore whether he wanted to or not.

"We need to talk," he said. She looked up at him and nodded. "Come on," he said, turning around and pulling her with him.

The Doctor put the TARDIS into the time-vortex before retaking Rose's hand and leading her out of the console room. They walked down the hall, making their way to the kitchen. For every step, a hint of dread grew inside Rose. She knew they had to talk. Properly. About everything. They needed a course, an understanding and no more lies. She knew that but it didn't mean it wasn't going to hurt. He'd blocked off the bond for a reason. He'd said she might be right, for a reason.

The Doctor pushed opened the kitchen door and Rose followed him inside. He made his way over to the counter, beginning to rummage through cupboards.

"Are you planning on placating me with food?" Rose asked, jumping up and sitting down on the table, clenching her hands to keep them from shaking while she watched him.

"Do I need to?" the Doctor asked, as he got a couple of cups and put the kettle on.

"Depends," Rose said.

"On what?" the Doctor asked, buzzing himself with fixing tea.

"How much this is going to hurt," Rose said after a moment of silence. The Doctor stopped what he'd been doing. For a moment he stood frozen. Then he put his hands on the counter, taking a couple of deep breaths.

"I don't ever want to... hurt you," he said, forcing the words out past his lips.

"I know," Rose said. "I don't want to hurt you either." Rose clasped the edge of the table. "So how bad are we talking?"

"Bad."

"Then you should probably offer me something stronger than tea," Rose suggested. The Doctor poured the steaming water into the two cups, fixing the tea exactly as he knew she liked it. He walked over to her and put the cup down on the table, next to her hip.

"I'm afraid tea is all I got," he said and backed up. Rose picked up the warm cup and held it between her hands. The warmth felt good against her cold fingers. The Doctor got his cup and took a sip. Rose did the same with hers. It was the spicy tea she liked.

"It's about what happened at New Years, right?" Rose asked when he didn't seem inclined to start talking. He nodded. "You're afraid of something. Really afraid. I could tell." The Doctor was staring down into his tea as though he expected it to hold the secrets of the universe. "Just tell me," Rose said.

The Doctor swirled the tea once and then put the cup back on the counter.

"I thought..." he began but fell silent, struggling for a moment. "I thought it was negative emotions alone," he said. "That triggered you. That allowed you to loose control. Revenge..." Elsa Conn. "Grief..." Mickey. The Doctor took a deep breath. "But you were happy," he said. "At New Years. You were so happy. Right?" He looked up at her for the first time since they'd entered the kitchen. The hint of doubt in his eyes hurt. He must have known. He must have felt the joy coursing through her blood. Enough to fill a lifetime. Rose nodded slowly and the Doctor nodded back as she confirmed his thoughts. He drew his hand down his face.

"But you still lost control," he said. "And not just a little. You were gone. You couldn't even hear me." He ran shaking fingers through his hair.

"Just say it," Rose said, almost like a dare. The Doctor paused before he did.

"It's not just negative emotions," he said. "It's any emotion."

Rose put the cup of tea back on the table because her hands were shaking so bad she couldn't hold it.

"Right," she said, her voice far from steady. "Any emotion." It wasn't anything she had not thought herself but to hear it from him somehow made it real.

"If it's strong enough." the Doctor said. Rose jumped down from the table. She felt like she needed to get out of there. Run. Run far away. Until none of the stars were familiar to her. But the minute her feet touched the floor her knees gave away. The Doctor rushed over. He managed to catch her, easing her fall. Her forehead fell against his shoulder as they both sank down to the kitchen floor.

"If it's strong enough," Rose repeated the Doctor's words. "You mean, like when I'm with you. That's what you're saying." She struggled for breath. "That's why you blocked off the bond." It took a long time for him to answer.

"Yes."

But Rose shook her head. "No," she said. "You've brought me back from the brink. You help me keep control, not loose it." She looked up at him, an urgent need to make him see in her eyes. "The energy it's not so... aimless when I'm with you. It has a purpose."

"I thought so too," the Doctor agreed. "But... seems I'm not enough."

Rose desperately clutched the sleeve of his suit. She felt like she was slipping away. As though she was caught in a stream and she couldn't stop it. No, matter what she did she couldn't stop it.

"To feel nothing then..." Rose breathed. "That's the answer." But the Doctor shook his head.

"That is not an answer," he said. "That's hell." Hell. That is what was awaiting her. An empty life for an empty heart. Rose gasped for breath. How could she ever do that? How could she make herself feel nothing? How could that be her future?

But anything else was unthinkable. She could never risk hurting someone again. Maybe even kill someone. She couldn't. She still wasn't sure if she had at New Years and now she thought she didn't ever want to know. Because it was impossible. She could never make herself that numb. She wasn't the kind of person who could shut out what she was feeling or bury it deep down where no one could get at it. She wore her heart on her sleeve. She always had. It was part of who she was.

"What if I could undo it?" the Doctor asked. There was a tremor in his voice that made the very words shiver.

Rose froze. She looked up at him. Her heart began to beat at a frantic rhythm as she struggled to comprehend his words.

"What?" she asked, sure she must have heard him wrong.

"What if I could find a way to undo, all of it. Erase the bond," the Doctor clarified.

"You could do that?" Rose asked, not quite believing it.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I wont try without knowing that is what you want." Rose just stared at him. Everything she knew about the bond seemed to point to the exact same thing. Once created it could never be undone. But what if? What if there was a way? "Rose, is that what you want?" he asked again.

Rose didn't answer. Instead she ran her fingers up his arm. Slowly. Her eyes on the movement. She ran them all the way up the sleeve of his suit, over the collar of his shirt until she was touching his bare skin. Every inch of her responded to the contact. She gave in to the sensation, revelled in the joy of it. He trembled beneath her touch.

"By erase..," she said, running her hand across his jaw. "Do you mean this too?" she asked. The Doctor squeezed his eyes shut. This was hurting him.

"Yes." the word fell broken from his lips.

Rose let her hand fall. "Would you... want that?" she asked him back

"I wan't you to be happy. I wan't you to be safe. That's what I want."

"That's not what I mean," Rose said. The Doctor opened his eyes and looked at her. She could see the agony in them. The fear. The fear he'd fought so hard to keep from her.

"I'll love you the same regardless."

"That wasn't what I asked either," Rose pointed out. The Doctor sighed, letting his head drop. His hands were clenching into fists.

"At the thought of you... wanting this..." he struggled to get the words out. She could tell he didn't want to say them. That this was something he would rather keep inside. She supposed he'd told her the truth when he said all she ever had to do was ask. That he would never deny her a truth she asked him for. Even if it took him a while to give it. "... It makes me want to break something," he said. "I think it makes me want to break everything."

"Why?" Rose thought she might know the answer, but she needed him to say it. If she was going to make this choice, she needed him to say it.

"Because," he began. "I've been alone for a long time. Alone in a way I could never describe. It is a bitter, cold pain, Rose. To be the last of your kind. But it's not only that. When there were Time Lords roaming the universe I could feel them. In here," he said, pointing to his temple. "Since they died... there's been nothing. Only quiet. Enough quiet to drive anyone mad."

"But it's not quiet anymore," Rose finished for him. He smiled a little at her even though his eyes were awash with unshed tears.

"No. You're there now. You have no idea the joy of being aware of another person like that again and to have that taken away...again. That makes me want to break everything."

Rose had a feeling he wasn't talking about the china in the cupboards or the old, antique vases in the library. She had a feeling he was talking about the whole world.

"Then how could I take that away from you?" Rose asked, shaking her head. The Doctor looked at her, reaching over and clasping her hand.

"Don't you think I'd rather take the quiet than loosing you?" he asked. Rose's eyes narrowed on his.

"You think this is what makes me leave," she realised. He nodded, his gaze dropping to their hands. He was running his thumb across her knuckles, sending of sparks along her nerve endings.

"Why would you stay with a man who can't..." He pulled his hand back, rubbing at his eyes. "Who you can't be with. Who can't even touch you." He was turning away but Rose moved to stop him. She caught his hand. She placed it against her cheek.

"You can touch me," she said, holding his hand there as she felt the contact sparking off between them. "You can touch me," she repeated, moving closer to him.

"Not the way I want," he said. "Not the way you want." Rose let go of his hand but it remained where she left it. She captured his face between her palms, moving close enough that she was practically sitting in his lap on the kitchen floor.

"This is enough for me," she said. But the Doctor shook his head.

"It won't be forever, Rose," he said. "You'll want more. Maybe not now, maybe not even in a year. But in five years? Ten?" She shook her head in mindless denial. "I'm sorry, Rose. I don't think you'll ever understand just how much."

"This won't be why I leave. It can't."

"How would you know?" he asked, his eyes filled with sorrow and an infuriating hint of pity. "You're so young. You haven't even lived a century. How could you possibly..."

"Don't play the age card with me," Rose interrupted in a warning tone. "I know that means nothing to you. Some people live more in one year than other's do in a hundred. Age has nothing to do with it."

"Fine," he allowed. "Answer me this then." He wrapped his arms around her. She could feel the heat of his touch. "Can you spend every day with me and never again be this close?" He leaned down towards her. His lips brushed lightly against the curve of her neck. Not a kiss, just a brief contact, featherlight and maddening because of it.

Every cell in Rose's body immediately reached for his. The pull was undeniable. For how long could she fight that if she had too? Everyday for the rest of her life? "Can you?" he asked, running his hands around her waist. "I know I couldn't," he murmured. "It would break me. It would drive me mad." His lips were brushing against her neck as he spoke, his breath sluicing over her skin, making her tremble in his arms.

"If..." Rose struggled to form the words. Electricity was coursing through her blood, urging, imploring, compelling. "If..." she tried again. "...you're that worried, you should probably..." She swallowed hard. "...back off right about now," she managed to get out.

"Do you want me to?"

The Doctor ran his hands up her back.

"No," Rose breathed. In no way did she want him to back off. Even if he was just using the moment to prove his point. It felt like it had been so long since they'd been this close. Her mind was already twining with his. And he couldn't hide from her just how much he'd longed to hold her like this. How hard it had been for him to block off the bond. The mental strength it had taken.

Yet Rose could feel the war going on inside him even now. The desperate need to give in waring with the fear that she would be hurt. That being close to him would set her off and she would burn. Her arms tightened around him. She wasn't going to burn. And even if she did it would be something worth burning for.

"You're proving my point," the Doctor was murmuring, probably aware of every single thought she'd just had.

"So?" Rose dared him, her eyes drifting closed. His hand ran up into her hair, combing through it, letting it spill between his fingers. She could feel his eyes on her.

"Rose..." It was intoxicating, the way he said her name. All breathless as though her name was both a prayer and a curse. Rose...

She opened her eyes, finding his. They were beautiful. Arresting. As he was. Rose ran her fingers across the planes of his face, her eyes not for one second leaving his. She drew in a slow breath and as she let it out his name fell with it.

It wasn't a conscious choice. It just happened. But the word felt good. The way her lips formed around it. The way it tasted in her mouth. The Doctor became absolutely still. He stared at her. Rose was about to apologies, thinking that of course she couldn't go about just dropping his name like that. It was a secret after all. She knew that much. But before she got the chance to say anything he'd pulled her to him and kissed her. She felt as any plan he'd had to prove to her just how dangerous this was, was blown away.

The bond didn't simply ignite between them. It exploded. They both trembled with the sheer power of it, the room itself trembling with them. The Doctor pressed her against him. His movements were hasty and desperate. There was no artistry. No, careful calculation. They moved on instinct alone. Thought had no place where they were concerned. Rose ran her hands across the expand of his chest up and round his neck. She could feel all that he was feeling. The need driving him beyond sense, beyond reason. The need to be closer, to twine, to bind. She felt it too. It was more desperate now. Blocking off the bond had done that.

His hands were at her face, tilting her head to the side to give him better access. Every touch, every brush of his skin against hers was like nothing she would ever be able to compare it to. Everything else became secondary. This was the only thing that mattered. Kissing the Doctor was a whirlwind, a storm, a tempest. Rose clung to him in an attempt to find some purchase but there was none to be had. It was sweeping them away. Towards what she did not know. Whenever they'd been this close to it before she'd only remembered the aftermath. The few fragments she recollected from when the bond had first been forged were hazy images of memories that were not her own. And New Years was nothing but a blurry dream.

The Doctor's fingers brushed against her collarbone as he moved to pull the zipper down on the sweater she wore. He pulled it down in a rush, his movements clumsy in their haste. His hands stole in beneath it, moving around her waist, splaying out against her lower back, holding her against him fiercely, possessively. Rose's head fell back and a sigh escaped her lips. The Doctor kissed his way down her neck, every brush leaving a trail of fire in its wake. She had been so cold but now she didn't seem to even remember how being cold felt like. Every cell in her body was alive with heat.

The Doctor combed his fingers through her hair, tilting her head and ceasing her mouth with his. Every brush, every stroke seemed to say the same thing. Mine... and stay.

Rose, she heard him whisper across the bond. The emotion that accompanied her name was overwhelming. It was passion and fear and an obliterating sense of possession. He'd told her that he belonged to her. Always. But now he was proving that she belonged to him too, no matter if she thought she'd leave him. She would be his all the same. Always. And curse the stars and all the worlds if anyone ever actually tried to take her from him.

They needed to stop. But they weren't. His arms were tightening around her. Her lips against his grew more insistent. He'd been right. They couldn't fight this. It was in their blood. A constant calling. And the more they struggled against it the stronger it got. One more touch, one more minute and they'd fall. And if the Doctor was right it would be New Years all over again.

"Stop," Rose breathed between the kisses, her voice filled with all the pain it took to utter that one word. "Stop. Doctor. Stop." Somehow he managed to keep his lips from hers long enough to speak.

"I told you," the Doctor said, his fingers digging into her skin as held her. "You'll leave me for this."

Rose felt tears streaming down her face. His hold on her tightened as though he could keep her by strength alone. Rose didn't want to believe it. She didn't want to believe that anything could make her want to leave him. But to never touch him again? To never feel him? The strain that it would put on them, the constant struggle. It would be torture. Slow and surely. How could she know if one day maybe she wouldn't be able to take it anymore.

"We have to undo it."

His eyes flickered up to hers and she saw his world break and fracture within them. Some part of him had still hoped she'd say no. However deep and dark and hidden that desire had been it had still been there. This was part of who he was. Part of his genetic makeup. How he was made. Even if the Time Lords had done everything they could to breed it out completely. Rejecting the bond was like rejecting him. Again.

The Doctor had wanted her to be with him for however long her forever lasted. He'd asked her to acknowledge that. To put a name to it and she'd said no. Out of fear. Fear of hurting him. Fear that giving a promise and breaking it was worse than giving no promise at all. And now this. He'd given her a piece of soul. Even psychotic, coldhearted Annabelle Conn had phrased it like that. And now Rose was telling him she did not want it. It didn't matter he'd been the one to suggest it. Nor did it matter that it might be the right thing to do. The only thing to do. What mattered is that it was breaking him to hear it.

"Doctor," Rose breathed. She could feel all his pain and it was crippling her. "I..."

"No," he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. She could tell how hard he fought to lock the pain away from her. She shouldn't have to bear it. It was not her fault. "This is the right thing," he said, his voice brittle. "This was never meant to be, Rose." He swallowed hard, still not looking at her. "My people forbade it for a reason. It destroys everything it touches." Agony ran through Rose's blood at those words. Words she'd thought herself. It wasn't fair. That something that could feel this good, this important, this right and wonderful could be wrong.

The Doctor somehow managed to disentangle himself from Rose and get to his feet. He thought his knees might immediately fold under him but somehow he remained standing. He held out his hand for Rose but she shook her head. He understood her. There was too much pain between them and touching meant not only feeling your own but the other's as well. He understood if she couldn't take that. He wasn't sure he could either.

So he closed his hand into a fist and withdrew it. He wanted to tell her it would all be alright. But he remembered how much it had hurt when she'd told him that and he'd known everything was anything but alright. She didn't deserve all this pain he brought to her life. She deserved to be happy. And removing the bond would do that. It would. It had to. But he had no idea how to accomplish it. As far as he knew the bond was absolute. The mere creation of it forged a fixed point in time. No matter it would probably kill the both of them to attempt it, altering fixed points could unravel the whole universe.