Gold.

Part Seven: Rose.

AN: This was really supposed to be a short Doctor/Rose fic, but it keeps growing and Jack keeps making his presence felt... and actually, the more I write this, the more I love Jack (I didn't know that was possibly but apparently so) and start to ship him and Rose just a little bit more... who knows what'll happen?

But there's lots more to come, dammit. I was hoping to get this finished so I could work on my other fics, but it's nowhere near done. I love this one, but it's awfully selfish and won't let me write any other fic at the moment.

AN2: Reviews make my day ;)

Enjoy.

Breakfast is a silent affair. Jack has had a sleepless night as well, but none of them discuss what needs to be discussed. The air is heavy with unspoken words.

Rose is chattering on about some TV show she used to watch, and the Doctor and Jack listen passively, exchanging glances that show a mutual unease at her cheerful manner. It is clear she's hiding something, but she's blocking the Doctor from her mind and all they can do is pretend.

"So what we doing today?"

The Doctor looks at her, startled by the sudden question, and sees her carefully expectant expression as she continues to chew her toast. For a moment his mind drifts back to last night and he remembers holding her and feeling so safe that he now thinks it must have been a dream. But no, it was dreams that brought them there… He blinks, bringing his thoughts back to the present and pushing everything else aside.

"I don't know."

"Oh." She doesn't keep the surprise out of her voice; it's not often the Doctor utters those particular three words, and even less so that he is willing to let a day go by with no plan, no destination, and no chance of adventure.

"So anyway," she carries on as she reaches for the peanut butter. "And Shireen was always saying that girl could have been me, but that's total rubbish because none of these characters are realistic, right? And…" she catches Jack's eye and trails off. "Well what you said before it just, reminded… me…"

Jack sighs and downs the last of his coffee. Setting the empty mug down on the oak table, he studies his friends, who are both far too absorbed in their respective toast and cereal. Rose is the picture of happiness, but it doesn't reach her eyes. The Doctor has a studiously neutral expression, though his jaw is clenched so tightly Jack wonders that he has any teeth left.

"So, how 'bout these dreams huh?"

Rose chokes on her toast and the Doctor almost drops his newspaper into his Ricicles. They glance at each other, and Jack knows that look. That look means that they're talking, drawing on the energy link between them. He sighs again and leans back patiently in his chair, arms folded.

"How d'you know about…" she frowns at him.

"I dreamt of nothing last night. Literally, nothing. It was real but there was nothing there, no sound, no colour, nothing to touch, nothing to hear, no light or dark. Like being…"

"Dead," the Doctor finishes for him, and Rose looks at him sharply.

"You've dreamt that too?"

"No." He is looking closely at Jack, studying the younger man and seemingly searching for something in his eyes. "But I know what he's talking about. You know what I dreamt last night." He turns to Rose with a thin smile and then stands. "I'll go and see where we are."

Left alone with Rose, Jack feels strangely uneasy. This new, stronger, tougher version of his friend is hard to get used to and he feels cut off, not needed. Her smile is bright and familiar, and on the surface it warms him, but it doesn't lay his doubts to rest. He couldn't put it into words if he tried, but it irritates so that he can't forget it. Maybe it's the TARDIS in her head, or the Doctor in her head, or the remnants of the power over life and death but whatever it is it scares him, because it's a part of her that he can't get to.

She stands then. "I'm going to get dressed, back in a minute."

As she passes him on her way to the door, she pauses, her hand on his bare shoulder, and leans down to kiss his forehead gently. Her touch makes him ache for the safe feeling that he would have found with her just a week ago. She hesitates and he knows she can feel it; he wonders how when she's not even looking at him, their only contact her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. She flattens her palm against his skin and he feels a rush of calm spread through him, easing the painful tight feeling in his chest. It isn't gone, but it is lessened considerably. He knows that she loves him and they will always be brother and sister no matter how else their relationship changes. He only wishes it didn't have to change in the first place.

And then she's gone and he's not sure quite what just happened. He gets up and carries his mug and plate over to the sink and rinses them absently, turning things over and over in his mind. A loud bang coming from the direction of the console room breaks him out of his thoughts, and he heads towards the heart of the ship, wiping his hands dry on his blue pyjama bottoms.

"Alright?"

The Doctor is standing a little way back from the console, arms crossed, looking thoroughly perplexed. He nods his head vaguely in Jack's direction in reply. Jack steps up to stand next to him and scratches his head in confusion, turns to the Doctor with raised eyebrows.

"It just… blew…" he says in something like amazement, waving his hand towards the smoking panel facing them on the console.

"Hunh."

"She's never done that before."

They stand together in silence for a few minutes, staring at the aftermath of the TARDIS' little tantrum.

"What do you think…" He trails off as the Doctor snaps into action, clapping his hands together and stepping up to the console.

As soon as he nears the injured panel there is a hiss and a shower of sparks, and he steps back again. He stuffs his hands into his jean pockets and Jack smiles; it is an action that seems to be habit with this Doctor and, he supposes, it fits with his younger appearance. With a start, Jack realises that this Doctor, currently tinkering with a different panel, looks almost younger than him.

"She must be trying to tell you something," he says absently, startling himself out of his thoughts.

"Tell us something," the Doctor corrects with a smile, and Jack grins. "But that much is obvious."

"But besides what she's usually trying to tell you…"

The Doctor looks up. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Jack raises an eyebrow and the Doctor has the grace to redden and return to his mechanics.

They remain in silence for a few moments, Jack resisting the urge to count.

"But what, though?"

"Oh come on, she wants you and Rose to hook almost up as much as the both of you do, and –" he waves a finger threateningly in front of the protesting Doctor's face "– don't go denying it, I've seen the way you two look at each other."

"That's the psychic thing –"

"Except you haven't always had that. But you've always looked at her like she's made of gold."

"Rubbish."

"If you say so."

The Doctor feels the air in the console room relax slightly and swirl around him, somehow matching perfectly the amusement sparkling in Jack's blue eyes. He can feel the softest push in his mind, warming him, and he hurriedly shuts it off, blocking Rose from his racing thoughts. He stares at Jack for a moment and then turns back to the console, running a hand through messy brown hair. He runs his hands gently over the panel.

"What is it, girl?"

Suddenly an unknown force takes hold of his hands and it feels as though the TARDIS is trying to pull him into the central column. He gasps, his head thrown back, and he can feel the ship's presence in his mind like he hasn't done since he was channelling her. He sees Rose then, as clearly as if she's standingbefore him. She isn't facing him, but she turns and gives him the strangest, saddest smile and then fades into a gold light that dissolves before his eyes. He jumps back from the console as if it has burnt him, and feels Jack's hands on his shoulders, steadying him. He turns and meets his eyes, unable to keep the fear out of his own.

"What…?"

"Rose."

They wait a moment, only one moment, before they are out of the console room and on their way to Rose's bedroom. Jack holds back, letting the Doctor go first, following only a step behind. It is a long way to her room, but the TARDIS shifts around them, bringing them closer. Jack feels a rush of warm and shimmering air as they run through one of the changes in the space of the ship, and then they find themselves at Rose's door.

By the time Jack has registered this, the Doctor is already wrenching the door open. She is standing by her chest of drawers, dressed in jeans and a bra, holding up two similar tops and obviously trying to choose between them. She turns towards the two men with a smile, masking well the surprise in her eyes. But her smile fades when she takes in the looks on their faces.

"Are you alright?" she frowns, concerned.

"Rose…" the Doctor takes a few steps into the room, towards her, one hand outstretched, and she moves to take it.

Jack leans against the doorframe, heart pounding. The TARDIS is drumming, pulsing, urging, and it feels like time has stopped moving around them.

Suddenly Rose stops and pulls back, staring at the Doctor as though she's just realised something of great importance. A strange light settles over her and she slowly draws a deep breath before her eyes fall shut and she slides gracefully to the floor, unconscious.

Thanks for reading.