Please do not do any of the following:-
-Flame me
-Panic
-Beat me to death with wooden sticks, vowing vengence.
The old 'Only In My Sleep' has been removed. This is because I was not happy with it. Not because I'm not going to continue with it. I would never abandon my stories! Anyway, the reason why I got rid of it was because I have a shiney new one for you. It's better than the other one, I promise. It may seem like the same one, but its got more stuff in it .:coughthesecondhalfcough:. so please, read and review (again) and tell me what you think of the new one. There were too many mistakes in the old one, plus I forgot to mention things I thought of later. Hope you like, more chapters coming very soon.
Oh! I personally recommend hot chocolate for this chapter. I'm drinking it right now in fact. I also recommend you play 'Collide' by Howie Day, cause I think it fits (the lyrics 'The dawn is breaking, a light shining through. I'm barely waking, and I'm tangled up in you' especially) Trust me on this, this is pure fluff of the highest degree. Quality fluff. I think I may die of fluff poisoning. Can you actually do that? Anyway, I know I sound big headed, bear with me people, I'd like to know what you think. There will definately be another chapter, of equal fluffage. Cross my heart, ;) x3
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Only In My Sleep
The control room of the TARDIS was empty. Completely empty. The gentle buzzing and the occasional blinking light went unnoticed by the Doctor or Rose. Even the main lights had been shut off, and the blue-tinged shadows crept across the iron grating of the floor. The roughly sculpted columns stretched up lazily towards the high ceiling, brushing the deepest shadows as the soothing whirr of the very alive ship kept itself company. If anyone listened carefully, they would hear what the Doctor heard everyday. The TARDIS was breathing. Softly, ever so quietly, the rush and sweep of the mechanical ship inhaled… Then sighed. Of course, to Rose it was just her normal everyday sounds. But to the Doctor… He adored his ship. Usually the Doctor would be here, making final checks on the navigation, life support, even the mass of wires under foot. The Doctor knew where each one fit, exactly, and he knew how to help his ship. The TARDIS looked after herself mostly, and she could fix minor problems easily. But the Doctor took great pride in making sure everything was just so at the end of the day.
But not today. Today he was not chuckling easily over how grimy the switches had become. He was not rearranging the great metal mallet that 'fixed everyfin', as Rose so inaccurately put it. Inaccurate or not, it had made him smile softly as he threw switches and punched in coordinates.
Today, or should I say, tonight, he was sat on his bunk. He'd been there for the last two hours staring at the same spot on the opposite wall, thinking. That day had been… demanding to say the least, even for the Doctor. If he had known what would have happened, he would have never stepped out from the TARDIS. Not ever. The groaning of his ship should have warned him. It had not been 'indigestion'. It had been a warning. By some cruel twist of fate they had been joking about leaving, he remembered now. He should have taken Rose's advice, however sarcastic it was. He would have smiled brightly at Rose and suggested they go somewhere else. If she refused he would distract her with promises of exotic beaches or another world in danger. He would never have let her step out of the safety of the blue box. It hadn't ended in tragedy, he was so grateful for this fact he had blocked out any substitute. If Rose had … An invisible wall loomed up in front of his thoughts, cutting them off mid-sentence. He would never let that happen. He would rather lose his other three lives and become mortal. He would sacrifice his life her. It was as simple as that. He couldn't live with the knowledge he could have saved her and didn't.
A smirk tugged his lips. To think, he had once referred to her kind as 'stupid apes'. Even referred to her as an ape upon occasion. Playfully, yes, but after she took command of the remaining crew and her devotion… She wouldn't leave him. She had shown such courage, just like all the other times…What right did he have to call her that now? He thought savagely, hating himself. He had put her in so much danger.
Why didn't she leave him? What had she been thinking? Did she realise how close that had been? No, it wasn't her fault.
He said he would protect her, save her from anything. He had promised himself a million times… And yet… Recently, he seemed to be helpless when it came to defending her. Too often he had had to rely on chance to save her… But that was what he had always done, and only now did it seem his luck was changing. Not so lucky now. A storm was coming…
Oh Rose…
He bent his head into his hands while he sat perched at the end of his bed. The dark warmth of his hands did nothing to calm his self-rage, but he collected himself enough not to break anything. He looked up and stared down at one of them. It surprised him how wonderfully her fingers curled around his. He examined his long, slender fingers. He supposed they were strong, able hands. They had changed. He had changed. Before they were lightly calloused, thicker, stronger. Now they were pale, different, and alien. Just like the rest of him. Yet she still held onto him like he was the only one who could save her. He usually was, but more and more he had begun to feel like their places had swapped round. She was, little by little, day by day, saving him. He still felt the imprint of her fingers on his palm. Her hands were soft, shorter than his own, somehow child like. He could remember the first time he had taken her hand. The memory seared his soul, flashing in front of his eyes.
Her wide, petrified eyes, framed by long, thick, mascara-covered lashes looked to him in shock. He knew he couldn't leave her. He had to get everyone out of the building, even that foolish girl who had wondered in while an attempted invasion was taking place.
'Run.'
Such a small word. He hadn't thought about it particularly. It was a human word like any other. And it had shaken her out of her paralysing fear enough for her to use her suppressed instincts. To grasp his outstretched hand and run as fast as she could.
How did he know it would throw her into his world, catapult her into his new, frightening, exhilarating world. With just one word, he had sparked something too huge, too exasperating… too fantastic than he could imagine.
Her smile… Her light blonde hair falling around her face… Oh, her eyes. Just being around her… But, what if that stopped? What would I do then?
He blinked slowly, still lost in thoughts too dark for the Doctor to bear. She almost… She could have… He could have lost her today. Because of him.
He growled frustratedly in the back of his throat, and stood up. He shook his head distractedly. But she was alive. She was here, safe, on his ship. With him. He took a deep breath. She was with him. And he breathed out, relaxing. Then that creeping cold feeling of suppressed truth awoke. But if she was with him, she would never be safe. Sure, she survived… This time. He went still. The clammy touch of reality fell over him. She could die next time.
It was not a new feeling. He had been pushing it to the back of his head ever since…
Another memory re-surfaced, crashing through the quiet of his mind.
'I'm so glad I met you.'
'Me too.' Her smile, so bright it burned his eyes. He could feel her trembling against him. Felt her fumble for his hand. She wasn't ready for death.
'But Doctor, will she be safe? Will my Rose always be safe? Can you promise me that?' Jackie's voice had chilled him then and still did. She was right. She would never be safe. Then more painful memories…
'Doctor, I want you to know it wasn't your fault. It wasn't your fault…' He had heard her hysteria rising, her fear, even heard her tears …and… something else. He had felt broken when he heard those words.
And in that moment;
'I wouldn't have missed it for the world…' If he had felt broken then, he had almost shattered at hearing her last hurried goodbye.
Then the last word he had heard before jerking the head set off his ear, staring at the wall, eyes gleaming, mind frozen;
'EXTERMINATE!'
The terrible steely cold had clouded his mind. She was gone… Human. Female. Nineteen. Young… so very young. His mind screamed in pain. Rose. He should have protected her… Should have never left her side. His feelings of guilt washed over him, and he could feel the pangs of deep regret, of… How could he have known that then… Even then… The first stirrings of affection, devotion, and something deeper he hadn't dared name it.
But she was alive still. Breathing, warm, soft, alive.
'I thought you were dead…' He had breathed, his eyes still shining, mouth open in wonder.
And he was back in a studio, Rose in hysterics, screaming for him. When she had seen him, she had dashed forwards. Too late he saw a blast of energy somewhere behind her, slicing through the air. He held his arms out to her, planning to snatch her into his embrace then turn and take the shot himself. But she never reached those arms. She… collapsed into dust, a fine powder, right before his eyes. His empty arms still reaching out for her, but too late. They fell to his sides, the numbing cold settling over him, stopping the truth seeping in. She was gone… He had seen her desperate eyes as she pelted to him, crying, his name ripping through the air, the hollow echo of her screams dying as the last particles of dust fell. He dropped to his knees, and looked down at the pile of powder, tracing the particles through with his fingers. The dry sandy ash… Oh Rose… He would have stayed there for eternity, just trying to… What? He didn't know. He hadn't understood until that second how much she meant to him.
When he saw that she was alive… He had no words. Only that deep feeling of something bigger than his whole being, flooding through him.
He sighed. How could he miss her when she was just in the other room? Even thinking of her, peacefully sleeping, those dark shadows of the past still clung to him, and he could not disperse them.
That was then… The thought still made him shudder. How could he lose her now? There had come a time, not long ago, when he almost did. They had been stuck, trapped, on Satellite Five, and he lost himself to the rising tide of emotion within that memory.
He remembered that second when he had decided to save her, send her away. He knew then that he loved her. He couldn't let the Daleks reach the TARDIS, but secondly, much, much more importantly, he wouldn't let them have her. He had acted, making sure she believed him. She had to believe him, otherwise she would never go, and she wouldn't let him face them on his own. He knew her well enough to know she would resist. He had to do it like that. Otherwise he could never part with her.
He began talking, fast, too fast to make sense. He was talking gibberish. He knew that. The sad fact was she didn't. She trusted him. She didn't need to know the whole plan; just being with him was enough. In the spur of the moment he kissed her forehead; she had grinned at him, and giggled. He didn't believe that that was the first time her had kissed her. The last time. His mouth was dry. Could he do this to her?
He had sprinted into the TARDIS, knowing she would follow him. She always did. That excited gleam in her eyes and that hopeful smile… He remembered clear as day running out of the TARDIS again. Then stopping, his shoulders dropped, and he slowly turned to face his old friend, his TARDIS. At that moment he reached up, pressed a button on his sonic screwdriver, heard the ever familiar wail as the TARDIS left him, and the last echoing shrieks of Rose as she pummelled the panels of the door, drifting away into silence.
He knew what she would have been watching. His last goodbye. The thought of having to say goodbye to Rose made him shiver and the intense need to see her, touch her, know she was still with him almost made his eyes water. His hologram would have flashed up in front of her, and explained everything.
'Have a fantastic life…'
He had frantically hoped he would never have to activate it. Afterwards, Rose had made him promise to never do that to her again, and he had grinned cheekily at her. But he didn't answer her. He couldn't make that promise. He had to know he had a backup, just in case he wasn't enough.
He had thought he would never see her again, thought that she was safe, but when he heard that recognisable sound, not quite pleasant, but slightly wonderful, his breath caught. She wouldn't…
A thousand questions had raced through his head. How did she-? Why would she-? Did the TARDIS malfunction? Or was she truly here?
And she was there. The TARDIS reappeared, the blue doors opened and a blinding golden light spilled and writhed from the doorway. And a silhouette. Her silhouette, breaking through the horrifying light, and when he saw her eyes… He knew what she had done. All fear of pain, danger, death, anything, everything, they all died when he saw her. Tears were streaming down her face, her mascara running, lips trembling and her face was so pale. She had looked into the heart of the TARDIS, and the power, the knowledge was devouring her, and he couldn't stop it!
The words were heavy on his tongue as he remembered.
'What have you done?' The bitter regret in his voice stung.
'I looked into the TARDIS, and the TARDIS looked into me…' Her voice was so weak, he could practically see the force of the TARDIS channelling through her, wearing down her mortal body, breaking her down into raw energy so her body glowed.
'You looked into the time vortex. Rose, no-one's supposed to see that!'
'I am the Bad Wolf.' Her voice had lost all of her child like glee, all emotion, except pain. 'I create myself. I take the words. I scatter them, in time and space. A message to lead myself here.' He cringed at the hitch in her tone. She must be in so much agony.
'Rose! You've got to stop this; you've got to stop this now! You've got the entire vortex runnin' through your head. You're gonna burn!'
Suddenly Rose looked at him. No, she looked into him. She smiled faintly, grimly, only her eyes betraying her pain.
'I want you safe.'
He looked up at her, bewildered. She was so precious to him, how could he have let something like this happen?
'My doctor…'
Something inside him clicked. The feeling of being called her Doctor made him ache. A wave of savage possessiveness washed away all other feelings. There nothing he could do. And it tore him apart.
But wait… There might be something…
He forgot about everything, everyone, except Rose. The Daleks, Satellite Five, everything. Suddenly, he realised what she was doing. Her tear-filled eyes blazed, melting into the centre of a Dalek, and to the Doctor's utmost amazement and horror, the Dalek's atoms divided in a mass of bright sparks. Every Dalek perished. None were left. He didn't know this Rose. The sheer volume of energy flowing through her head had messed with her brain. She no longer seemed like his Rose. This had got to stop, before Rose was eaten up by the time vortex. Her arms stretched out by her sides, an almost sacrificial gesture, and he caught a glimpse of his Rose. She wouldn't let go.
'Rose, you've done it. Now stop. Just let go!' He urged, knowing it was useless. She could be so determined… So stubborn.
'How could I give this up? I bring life.' She was dying. Her voice broke with the strain of staying alive, her breathlessness told him that much.
He couldn't believe what he was hearing.
'This is wrong! You can't control life and death!' How could she think-
'But I can.' The Doctor was horrified. His Rose. She didn't think like this.
'The sun and the moon.' She continued, 'The day and the night. But why do they hurt?'
Agony seeped through her words, and another tear slipped down her damp cheeks.
Oh Rose…
'The power's gonna kill you and it's all my fault.'
'I can see everything. All that is. All that was. All that ever could be.'
Those words broke through his resolve. He could do one thing. Just one. It would hurt, oh yes, it would hurt. But she was worth it. He stood.
'That's what I see, all the time. And doesn't it just drive you mad?'
'My head…' Her voice was so weak he could barely hear her.
But it didn't matter. He knew what to do.
'Come here.' He held her upper arms in his hands, turning her to him. She was beautiful.
'…Is killin' me.' More tears coursed down her face.
'I think you need a doctor…' He came to a stop, very close to her, so close he could see her real eyes. They were pleading with him to take away the pain. Take away the hurting. They beseeched him; he almost expected her to cry out with her suffering. But she didn't. She stood in his arms, so trusting, he couldn't resist.
His eyes drifted down to her mouth, her lips slightly parted. Bending a little, he closed the distance between them, taking her lips in a soft kiss. Technically, any contact would do, but he couldn't help it. He might never get a chance to kiss her ever again, and he had to. His hands gently squeezed her upper arms, comforting her. Her eyes sank closed at the contact, as did his. She didn't struggle; in fact she leant into the kiss. He could feel the tears on her cheeks…
It wasn't a long kiss, just enough time to collect all her energy, yet he lingered on her mouth. He nuzzled her lips a little, relishing in her sweet softness, then firmly drew back. Trails of golden light left her mouth and eyes, and entered his own. Now he could feel the intense pounding drumming through his whole body. Then dull, mounting pain. It would only take a few minutes.
Rose's eyes drifted closed once more and her head came to rest upon his shoulder. He very carefully supported her body until he could place her upon the floor. He stood again and opened his eyes. He could feel the burning radiance behind them. This would not do. He stood facing the TARDIS and sighed. A stream of waving, curling gold escaped his lips and re-entered his TARDIS, and the blue doors swung silently closed. His body convulsed, and he staggered. He bit his lip with the pain. He could still taste her. Bending down, he rested a large hand on her cheek, brushing away her tears with his thumb, caressing her skin. She looked so peaceful. She was safe.
It seemed such a short while ago. In fact, it had been months, and she wasn't safe anymore. Not with him. The Oncoming Storm. That was what they called him. Did he create these tempests, or did they follow him? Track him down. Strike at the ones he loved because it made him weaker. He didn't know. Either way, he could feel a tension in the air, a tightening in his chest that made him afraid.
The Doctor looked at the same patch of wall, his need to see Rose building. Surely she wouldn't still be awake? His head only half decided he walked to the door, stepped out of his room, and quietly closed it again. His eyes were a little blood shot, and he was ashen faced. His hair had defied all attempts at being tamed and stuck up at odd angles, the brown tufts occasionally falling across his forehead or into his eyes. He glanced down the hall to the control room, and hearing the TARDIS' muted murmurs, slipped into the corridor to his left. He saw four doors to his right and one single door to his left. The furthest door was a storage cupboard, one of many, accompanied by another similar door to its right, which contained an alternative life support control, just in case the first blew out. The door next to this was really a bathroom, but he never used that one. The last door on the right was no more spectacular than the others, except Rose had, to his amusement, put up a sign simply reading 'Rose' in red. The door to the left had only one use. It was filled with supplies and extra parts. A cargo hold really, except Rose had taken that over too and had filled it with her little comforts that never ceased to amuse the Doctor. She kept her 'special supplies' (ice cream mainly) and other belongings in there, and since the Doctor began to use a different room for its original purpose, he never told her she couldn't.
He noticed her door was ajar, but no light spilled out onto the metal grating on the corridor's floor. The small blue lamps on the ceiling had been dimmed, and gave little light, but the Doctor didn't mind. He could always see better than most in the dark. He absentmindedly pinched the bridge of his nose to ease the tender skin under his thickly framed glasses and rolled his aching shoulders. He needed to get some sleep, soon. Inching along the hallway, he silently stared into Rose's room.
He had been inside before, just to help her settle in. She had asked him to carry her rucksack in, and he had obliged, but not willingly. He grinned in the darkness. She could be so dominant so times. He didn't mind much.
He saw the blue night lamps were illuminated, and he could faintly see the outline of her face against her pillow, her hair splayed and curling around her shoulders. The clock on her bedside gleamed through the room, and the Doctor could make out the flashing digital display; 3:47. He gently pushed the door open with a hand and edged inside, gazing at her face. The ever constant whisper of the TARDIS seemed to quieten, and he could hear Rose's slow, measured breathing. She was sound asleep. He noticed the leisurely rise and fall of her shoulders and chest from his position near the door and a faint smile played on his lips. The dull nudge of worry for Rose faded, and was replaced by a calm the Doctor only experienced with her. Even asleep she comforted him. He wasn't alone on his ship any more. She had filled the emptiness.
'Oh Rose…' He muttered, raking a hand through his hair. He made his way over to her bedside, telling himself he was checking she was alright, that she was really there. The real truth behind his actions, however, even he couldn't admit.
She was resting on her side, her arm under her head, and then curling round her body. Defensively. Her other arm was placed in front of her, her hand resting on the pillow by her head. The Doctor sighed quietly, and took his thickly framed glasses off for a moment, focusing on the girl once again. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, and distractedly laid them down on her bedside table, on top of a curiously titled book. It simply read 'Diary 2006'. The Doctor hesitated. Did he want to know what she had been writing in her diary? It was special to a person, sacred even. He himself never owned one; he didn't have the time to write about his life, but Rose obviously did.
His hand hovered over the binding. The voice in his mind began to whisper again;
Go on, go on, go on, go on…
He slowly drew his hand away. Curiosity was a dangerous thing, as he had discovered only too well that day. He wanted to know what Rose had been writing, wanted to know what she felt for him, if anything. But he decided she should be the one to tell him, if she wanted to. He had no right in looking into her diary. He loved her too much to do that.
He breathed out gradually, and glanced back down at Rose's sleeping face. He was so tired. He crouched next to her, put his elbows on the mattress and rested his chin on his folded arms. She mumbled something inaudibly, and her brow furrowed. The Doctor also frowned. What was she dreaming of? He didn't think as he brushed a few strands of her hair from her face, careful not to wake her. His fingers remained on her cheek, and he traced the line of her jaw, then lifted his hand away. She was so warm, so soft. Would she awake if- No, she was too deeply asleep.
Deftly, he stood, his eyes already noticing she was sleeping on only half the bed. Ever so quietly, he shrugged off his pinstriped jacket and laid it at the end of her bed. He wouldn't stay long. Her arms were so perfectly positioned… If he didn't wake her…
He tenderly nudged her over and sat on the mattress. He slipped off his shoes, and turned to see Rose still asleep. Cautiously, he leant back and arranged himself next to her, gently shifting her arms around him, and laying her head on his chest. Her hand rested against his torso lightly. Her solid weight calmed him considerably and he rested his cheek against her hair, his own arms snaking around her shoulders and stroking her back. He hushed her when she moved against him, a soft smile gracing her mouth, and she buried her head in his shoulder, breathing in deeply. The skin along his neck tingled as she breathed out, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. His eyes closed for a moment and swallowed.
She was safe. She always would be safe. She would, she would, she would…
He knew he was lying to himself, but he didn't care. That fierce possessive rush encircled him as she sighed happily, and he kissed her temple delicately, whispering her name into the darkness.
She was alive.
'Rose…'
Still unconscious, Rose answered, as if on instinct.
'Doctor.' Her fingers tensed against his shirt, and then relaxed.
He blinked down at her, his eyes burning and smoothed her hair with a careful hand.
He slid into a dreamless sleep, forgetting he shouldn't be there, forgetting where he was and why. He only felt Rose's steady breathing, the rise and fall of her body against his, and her irregular mutters. Meanwhile the TARDIS heaved a great sigh to itself, and for all appearances, fell asleep too. Finally, one by one, the faint blue lights within the room dimmed to nothing, leaving the two in complete, quite darkness.
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I would love it if my reviewers would review again, this way I'll see if you like the new and improved 'Only In My Sleep'. I do so love reviews. As you well know by now, I dance. It's a happy dance of a delighted authoress. You know what I'm talking about people. Be generous. Review?
