John hasn't been to Durham University in years, his last visit with his old friend Professor - now Executive Dean - Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart being embarrassingly long ago. He's not even sure he still has his friend's phone number anymore. But it's business hours on a school day, and with any luck Alistair will be in his office.
Wherever that is.
He climbs into his car, which starts on the first try as if it, too, is on board with his inchoate plan. He takes Framwellgate Peth past Aykley Heads, for once not phased by the stop-and-go city traffic. Miraculously, he is able to find a semi-legal parking spot off South Road.
Through a combination of charm and begging, he finds his way to the Faculty of Science office in the Chemistry Building, and past the no-nonsense executive assistant Miss Goddard.
Alistair is sitting at his desk when John knocks on he door, and is half-hidden behind a large stack of disheveled papers. Alistair has gone gray since John last saw him, and John doesn't fight the pleasant bubble of nostalgic admiration for his old mentor, nor the broad smile that comes to his lips. He finds he is not half as nervous as he was expecting to be … this feels right.
"John!" Alistair almost shouts in disbelief, a wide grin coming to his lips as he gets up to make his way to the door to meet his old friend. "What on earth are you doing here, my boy? How's London?"
"It's a long story," John says, embracing his old friend warmly. "But … I was hoping you and I could talk."
—
It's dark by the time John gets back to the hospital. Rose is sitting at Wilf's bedside, curled into a little ball in one of the nearby armchairs. For his part, Wilf is asleep, his breathing in sync with the steady beep-beep of the cardiac monitor.
Rose stretches and gives him a smile. "Everything OK?"
John smiles warmly back at her. "Better than."
He takes her hand and leads her out of the room, keeping their fingers entwined until they reach his car. John asks about Wilf's walking test — Rose responds that Dr. Jones was slightly unhappy with Wilf becoming weak with activity, and that he might need to undergo a brief physical therapy program in rehab before getting to go home.
"He'll be able to come home in a week or two, if not a few days. It all depends on how much he adheres to the physical therapy program."
"So it depends on Wilf letting people tell him what to do," John restates.
He and Rose share a glance and she laughs. "Fat chance, that. But I hope he does … I'm so worried about him, John. He's all I've got left of my family. The last Prentice, other than me. I don't know what I'll do if I lose him."
John squeezes her hand. "You won't, Rose. You heard the doctor - he'll get better. We'll just have to keep a close eye on him."
Rose sighs, and the drive back to Weardale is quiet after that.
John makes a simple dinner of beef stew and mash, not having the heart — or the ingredients — to be more creative. They eat dinner wordlessly, each trying not to glance Wilf's empty chair at the head of the table, or his empty armchair in the other room. The man's absence weighs heavily, and John finally puts down his spoon with a small sigh.
Rose glances up, giving John a knowing nod.
"He fell asleep just after dinner. Tired himself out complaining about the broccoli. Said he could make it much better at home."
John chuckles softly. "I bet he could."
Rose lowers her spoon to her plate as well, her head dropping into her hands. When she brings her eyes up to meet John's her brow is furrowed and John has to press down the urge to stroke it smooth with his hand. She should never look so worried.
"I'm not sure, John — they say he'll need to take it easy, and to build up strength again before walking too far. I don't think he can handle the B&B on his own. And I'm no cook — we need the money I make from teaching at Swinhope Moor, and I can't take care of him and run the B&B and teach … and I don't know what to do — we might have to sell it, or, or —"
John hushes her quietly, taking her in his arms. "Or … there's another option." His heart beats wildly as he tries to come up with the right words. "I could move in. With you. We could … share. And we could take care of the B&B and Wilf together. If … if you want."
Rose pulls back. "But — London, and your job —"
John takes a deep breathe, invigorated by not being immediately rejected. He pulls back to look her in the eyes.
"That's what I was taking care of when I left you at the hospital. I went to Durham University today, Rose. The dean of the science department and I are old friends - he was my mentor when I was in school. Earlier in my career, he offered me a job teaching for him. Granted it's been a number of years, but I went to see him today to see if the offer is still open. He told me I can start with the new term. I'll take it — if you let me."
Tears spring to Rose's eyes, and she surges into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. "Do you mean it?"
"I'd do anything for you, Rose. Anything at all. Wilf is like family, and you …"
He presses her closer, kissing her jaw just under the sensitive lobe of her ear, feels her try to suppress a shiver as she snuggles in closer to him. "And you … Rose Tyler, I …"
He finishes the sentence by whispering into her ear.
She pulls away and there's a beat where he's not sure what's going to happen. His heart thuds out a panicked rhythm in his chest. He tries to keep his face blank in case she tells him she doesn't feel the same way. She may not feel the same way, right? Or perhaps the timing is all wrong. Oh Gods. He didn't think this through at all — it's so soon after Jimmy, and Wilf is in hospital. He can't read the look in her eyes, perhaps she's angry, perhaps he stepped out of line and — oh. Rose surges forward, pressing her lips against his.
—
John wakes in his bed, much later, to Rose asleep in his arms, her head pillowed on his shoulder and their bare legs dovetailed together. He hears the drip of the icicles outside his window melting into droplets of water plopping on his windowsill, and raises his head to peer out the window. Already, as the dawn breaks over the moor, he can tell it will be a sunny morning.
It won't always be easy, he knows, looking out the window at the spring thaw. The most important matter is Wilf's recovery, of course. And John still needs to finish the semester in London, commuting up to Weardale as often as he can until he can move up here for good in a few months. Their situation won't be perfect — both he and Rose will need to balance their jobs with helping Wilf, and keeping the B&B up and running. It won't be smooth and sunny: there will be unexpected icy patches on which they will slip and fall — but they will be temporary, and will thaw, Rose and John helping each other to their feet, supporting each other.
It will be them: together, united against anything that comes their way.
He lies his head back down on his bed - their bed - and wraps his arms more snuggly around Rose. Even asleep, she intuitively snuggles closer into his embrace, and John smiles. He lays his head back on the pillow, and turns his face towards Rose's hair, breathing her in. It was a long, winding road to get here, he thinks, as he begins to drift back to sleep. But he's found what he's always wanted, here in Wilf's rustic B&B with Rose in his arms. He's found home.
