Title: The Politics of Trust
Rating: K+
Pairing: Doctor/Rose ish – but it's more dark than shippy.
Spoilers: New Earth and TCI
Summary: Set directly after 'New Earth'. Did she ever know him at all?
Rose sat once more on the grassy rise overlooking New New York, the stiff breeze whipping her rebellious hair violently about her face, apparently not caring how awful it made her look. To the right of her was the hospital, still a hub of activity, city officials and other men in uniform scurrying about like ants, trying to return some kind of normalcy to the place. To her left was the city itself and, much closer, the flattened path the Doctor had created as he'd gone off to get ice cream. New New York did the best ice cream apparently and he wasn't going to let her leave without tasting it. Rose had offered to go with him but he had insisted that she stay here with the TARDIS. Keep an eye on it he had said, but she knew that that was a lie. Maybe he had somehow realised how full her head was right now and how much she needed some time alone to sort it out.
She sighed, fingers running almost tenderly through long strands of apple grass for a moment before her grip tightened and she tore a clump out. Distractedly she began shredding individual pieces between her fingers, not noticing them fly away in the wind, her mind elsewhere.
Something had been bugging her about this new Doctor ever since he'd awoken on the Sycorax ship. No, he didn't look the same, talk the same or act the same but she could handle that, she had gotten used to and it wasn't what bothered her so much. He was still the Doctor, she could feel it. But something was wrong. Well, maybe not exactly wrong, but just very different.
She had said as much to him the last time they'd sat on this hill together. 'You're so different'. He apparently hadn't minded, had made a joke out of it in fact. And she'd been smiling as she said it too, liking the differences at that moment, liking his silliness and charm. Liking how much more he smiled.
But in the hospital she had finally come to realise what it was about this new Doctor that bothered her so much.
He frightened her.
Not all the time. Very rarely in fact. Mostly she found him sweet, fun and charming. It was just that sometimes that seemed to slip away, as though it was just a mask hiding the real him from an unsuspecting and unprepared universe, and she got a glimpse of something much older and much darker than she was unprepared to handle.
She had seen a glimpse of it on the Sycorax ship. 'No second chances, I'm that kind of a man'. His mood had flipped so rapidly that she hadn't even been entirely sure that she she'd seen it. But she had felt it, the shiver that passed through her, the buzzing in the air that seemed to intensify around him. This new Doctor would take no prisoners.
It was like two opposite sides of a coin – the jovial, cheery, charming companion and the harsh, dark, intense Time Lord who radiated power like heat. She didn't know which side was real and she didn't know which one to trust, if either of them.
That worried her more than anything really. Whatever had happened in the past, whatever daft and dangerous adventures he had lead them into, she had always trusted him. Now she wasn't quite so confident. Not about whether she did or not, but whether she should. Or maybe it wasn't a matter of trust after all, maybe it was just understanding. She had thought that she knew him, had dared to believe that she understood who and what he was. But she had a horrible feeling that in reality she still had no real clue and would never fully understand the complexities of his existence. The idea made her rather sad.
And he made it so easy to forget his dark moments too. A flash of a charismatic smile, a delightful, elegant, cheeky speech and she could barely remember how else he could be. Yet she couldn't help but wonder if that persona was all an act. Just a trickster putting on a show to disarm his opponents into a false sense of security. To convince them that he wasn't actually dangerous at all.
She scowled to herself, wondering why she should suddenly think so badly of him. Yes, he could be sly, clever and cunning when he needed to, but she had nothing to worry about from him. He only did it to try and help people. He had never been anything but wonderful to her, even when he was being a bit of a sod and she wanted to smack him one.
And yet for a moment he had frightened her.
When they had found that man in the basement of the hospital, the Doctor had certainly sounded compassionate. Yet, she realised – the fact that she didn't have to bother with controlling her body at least giving her plenty of time to take things in – there was something cold in his reaction. As though his sympathies were genuine, yet they were automatic and not the foremost thing on his mind. He seemed too controlled, like he was holding himself back in order to calculate something, but in reality he was burning inside.
They had stood, gazing over the thousands of similar pods, his voice so quiet and tight as he explained what was going on to her. And then he looked around, beginning to get angry, letting his disgust show.
His face was like thunder when the Novice had arrived, his tone challenging, daring her to justify it. He had shouted at her explanations fired by a true, deep and consuming anger, his voice demanding and unforgiving. No second chances, no attempt to understand. Just indignant, disgusted fury. Even the near unflappable Cassandra had flinched.
'If they live because of this then life is worthless' he had stated with such utter conviction that she almost believed it. And yet Rose couldn't be quite as certain as him. How could life ever be worthless whatever the circumstances? Yeah, it was horrible what had happened to these people but it wasn't the fault of the ones they cured. They didn't know about this. How could he dismiss them like that?
'But who are you to decide that?'
'I'm the Doctor. And if you don't like it, if you want to take it to a higher authority, there isn't one. It stops with me.'
That truly chilled her, right down deep where even Cassandra couldn't hear. Rose had thought the darkness in him was gone with the regeneration; his lighter mood and cheery tone certainly seemed to suggest it. But she was wrong. It was just deeper now, more ingrained. It was part of who he was and no longer something swimming on the surface, threatening to tear him apart. It was like he used it to fuel himself, thinking he had control over it. Rose wasn't so sure.
The other Doctor, her other Doctor, he would never have said that. He may have thought it, he may have understood his own power and ability, but she could never imagine him blatantly laying it out to anyone. She didn't like it. It wasn't right.
Who was he to decide anyway? What gave him the right? Yeah, he was from a race of super advanced, highly intelligent people but did that really give him the privilege to decide what was right or wrong for everyone else?
Despite what he said, he didn't look very calm when he asked the nun what had happened to Rose. He looked like he was just holding on by a thread, teetering on the brink of really losing it. She would never have admitted it, but Cassandra was very afraid in that moment, needing a second to compose herself. Rose had heard about people having volcanic tempers but this was the living proof of it. For the first time she got the feeling that the Doctor could be very,very dangerous if he chose to be. The tenseness in his whole being seemed to radiate around the room, pressing at the walls, smothering the atmosphere, frightening the shadows themselves. If he erupted, boy would the people here know about it.
He had also been angry with Cassandra as he had demanded that she give Rose back to him, but that hadn't felt dangerous to Rose. It had felt safe. Protective. And even though she was a prisoner in her own body, she had suddenly felt not too bad about things. The Doctor would see her safe. He wouldn't let her down. She could always rely on him.
Yet, sitting here now, hours after the event his words still chilled her.
'I'm the Doctor. And if you don't like it, if you want to take it to a higher authority, there isn't one. It stops with me.'
Who died and made him god?
Maybe he was, she thought ruefully. She kept imagining that she knew him but it was likely she'd only ever scratched the surface. He was over nine hundred years old. She couldn't even imagine that, let alone hope to understand what that man would truly be like. Maybe the other Doctor had never been the real him after all. Maybe that was just a fluke because of all that had happened to him and this was what he was really supposed to be like. She wasn't sure if she liked it. In an odd way she had felt like an equal of the old Doctor – maybe not in knowledge and technical skills but in other ways she was as good as him, could outdo him in fact. But this new guy…In those few moments back in the hospital basement he had made her feel very small.
And yet when he caught her, she had forgotten everything. For all the wrong she had felt that day, the moment his hands were on her holding her steady, his voice asking her if she was okay, his face grinning at her in sheer delight to have her back, everything suddenly felt right once more. She felt special. She felt safe.
She didn't know which feeling to trust.
"There you go."
Rose jumped, startled. She hadn't even heard him approach. If he saw her reaction, he said nothing, just held out the ice cream. She took them both at his insistence and then watched as he removed his coat and spread it out on the ground like a blanket before beckoning her over to sit down.
"Just don't drop any ice cream, right," he warned, taking one from her, "This does not dry clean well."
She smiled slightly, a sort of fond amusement, "You're such a tart."
He grinned in return but declined to comment.
There was silence for a moment, not their normal, companionable one, but a tense, thoughtful pause. He kept glancing at her, knowing something was wrong but not pushing her into saying anything. She licked half heartedly at the ice cream. He was right, it was good. Shame her mind was too elsewhere to fully enjoy it.
"Who are you?" she blurted out eventually, unable to hold back any more.
"I'm the Doctor," came his reply, so simple, as though that explained everything.
"I know that," she reasoned with a frustrated frown, shifting slightly so she could study him a little better, "I just mean…what are you? You like…some sort of god or something?"
She felt stupid saying it. The very idea was daft after all. And yet she had to ask. She just couldn't be comfortable around him whilst that question was still playing on her mind.
"With these teeth?" he said, too lightly, "You've got to be kidding!"
There was another long pause and this time it was his turn to look uncomfortable and Rose's turn to wait patiently.
"Do you trust me?" he asked eventually.
"Pardon?"
"Do you trust me, Rose?"
She looked away, not being able to look at him as she considered that question, not able to face his sincere desire to hear her answer. How did he know that was what was bothering her? Was it some sort of weird, Time Lord mind reading trick she'd never heard of? Or was she just really obvious?
She suspected it was the latter.
"You don't have to say 'yes', you know," he prompted after a moment, taking her silence as an unwillingness to answer in case she upset him with the truth, "I'd understand."
"No, I do," she reassured, as though it was as much a revelation to her as it was to him, "It's just…you're so different."
He cocked his head slightly, giving her a thoughtful look, "Good different or bad different?"
"I dunno," she admitted with a shrug, "Just…different."
He nodded in either understanding or acceptance, she wasn't sure which. "Takes some getting used to, hmm?"
She smiled a little, "I'll say."
"Think what it's like for me, eh," he returned with a grin, "I have to keep remembering to brush my hair!"
Rose laughed slightly at that. She'd never even considered that before. "You're so vain," she teased.
"I'm am not…" he replied with indignant protest before a rueful smile set on his face, "Okay maybe a bit."
She laughed again, feeling warmer now despite the cold of the ice cream and the chill of the air.
"Rose, you can trust me, you know that?" he insisted softly after a moment. His voice was odd, almost a little pleading, like he needed her to agree.
She nodded, "Yeah, I know." That was the one thing she was always certain of; she was safe with him and in the end that was all that mattered, right? After all, who was she to say how a Time Lord should behave?
"I don't have a rule book," he admitted looking at her carefully, attempting to explain, to allay her fears, "I'm just trying to do the best I can."
"I know."
"And I'm glad you're here."
She grinned, "Me too…" Her smile faded slightly as she looked out at the hospital once more, trying to really organise her thoughts. "And it's not that I don't trust you. I just, don't know you. Not really."
He grinned back, "Well I'm a man with a big mouth and even bigger hair, who likes bicycle riding and time travelling in my spare time. My favourite colour is red and I love banana ice cream. Oh and I dance a rather fantastic tango."
Rose laughed. "Well that's a start, I guess."
He stood up holding out his hand, "Come on."
She didn't even hesitate. And the moment she took his hand, everything felt okay again. She did trust him, trusted the feel of his hand wrapped tightly around hers, the way their fingers interlocked as if that was how it was meant to be. He didn't look the same, he didn't act same but he was the Doctor, her Doctor and nothing would change that. He knew what he was doing, she was sure of it. He was only trying to help after all, even if his methods didn't always suit her. And besides, he had always done what was best in the end, always had others' interests at heart. In a way it made her feel bad for doubting him.
"Where are we going?" she asked, helping him pick up his coat and shake the grass away.
"Dunno," he admitted, grabbing her hand again and pulling her back towards the TARDIS, "Somewhere we can run away from hideous monsters hopefully. New New York ice cream tastes good for a reason, you know. Has calories like you wouldn't believe."
"Oh cheers," she said with a pretend huff, "You couldn't have told me that before?"
"I thought you'd be happier not knowing," he said with a smile.
Rose smiled in return, pressing a little closer to him, liking how he affectionately squeezed her hand as she did so. And pointedly ignoring the voice that kept telling her that he was dangerous and not to be trusted. That there were probably more things she was happier not knowing. For her he was safe and right now that was all that mattered.