Aftermath
Notes: Well, I did say I'd never write an outwardly shippy fic, but the observant amongst you will notice that (shock and awe) this is shippy angst fluff! So I hope you enjoy my exploration into that private world of love and grief, and leave lots of lovely reviews when you're done.
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The TARDIS was quiet, which was nice, because inside her head it was terribly loud. Half-formed thoughts screamed at her, a sort of white noise that she didn't understand and couldn't translate. She put a hand to her forehead, willing it to stop.
He closed the door quietly behind him and paused for a moment, unsure and uncertain. Then, lacking the knowledge to react to how she was feeling, he resumed a well practised role and set the TARDIS in flight, willing the ship to find somewhere quiet.
She held onto the railing, telling herself it was in case the TARDIS lurched suddenly as it was prone to do. But the TARDIS' flight was smooth, and the railing she clung to felt like her only connection to the real, insane world of her best friend's time machine.
He could all too well understand how she was feeling, to have caused the death of a loved one. But no, he corrected himself, that wasn't right. Fair or unfair, her father had been dead to begin with. History had taken the course it was supposed to.
Her father had been dead before, but somehow this seemed more painful.
He was used to death, but she seemed so fragile.
In the deafening quiet, he reached for her and she fell into his arms like she always would. She couldn't cry. She'd shed so many tears in the last few hours it felt like they had been used up. Her eyes were sore. This was dry sorrow, the agony of grief and the heart-pain of loss.
"Rose…" He whispered her name, cradling her like the precious child that she was. Hadn't he always protected her like a child? Hadn't he? Hadn't he at least tried?
"I'm sorry," she said, heaving dry sobs. The tears would not come. "I ruined everything."
He murmured soft sounds of comfort. To carry the blame alone was a terrible feeling, and he could not allow Rose to bear that, rightfully or wrongfully. "I'm sorry," he replied. "I shouldn't have taken you there."
"You only did what I asked," she said, her breathing becoming more smooth as he stroked her hair.
"That didn't make it right," he assured her.
He wished he could be human for her, comfort her like and mother and a father and a lover all at once.
She thought he'd never seemed so human, so wonderfully like her.
"I never knew it hurt so much…" she said, and her naivety almost made him weep. "I was young last time."
He held her close and knew from this day forward he would give her anything, do anything to make it right.
Her mind grew quieter in the lullaby of his arms, his breathing, and knew he was so much more than a best friend.
"If I could," he whispered so that only she could hear. "I would take your hurt, and carry it for you."
Overwhelmed, sensing some emotional debt created by his words, she pressed a clumsy kiss to his lips.
He knew in this instant that he was a lost man, comfortably lost to her.
The TARDIS was quiet, which was nice, because all she wanted to hear was him.
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Phew…my first properly shippy fic…did it work? Did I pull it off?