A/N: I hope that all of you readers are enjoying the story : ) so far I'm doing well with getting writing done each night and am looking forward to it! I already have a bit of the next chapter complete, hoping to have it to you before the end of the weekend! If you don't mind taking a moment to leave a review I'd love to hear your thoughts thus far! /
Soft light shines on my face as I gently wake up amid a soft pile of pillows and blankets. It's dawn at our normal local time, London. Though the Tardis doesn't have real windows, the false ones built into the room feel like normal, even the heat in the faux rays is warming, welcoming. I feel a smile stretch across my face, recounting the previous day's events; I am still with him. He is okay. I reach through the bed, searching for what I know must be there. Coming up empty handed I force my eyes open, blinking several times to adjust to the morning. I am shocked to see that the room is not of the blue hues of the doctors', but the cream and chocolate browns of mine. The white duvet clings to my skin as I notice that I am wearing only my bra and underwear from the day before. My cheeks redden; while I don't remember much past our kiss last night, I know that I didn't take my clothes off and get myself into bed.
I sit up. Something doesn't feel right. Why did he leave me last night? I thought we'd had a break-through. I really thought everything would start to feel like… well, more and more real between us. He said he loved me; I remember at the very least that much. I shift so my legs are off the bed and pull the comforter off with me as I stand, hugging it close as if it were a battle shield. The legs are shaky but hold the weight of me as make my way out the door and down the hallway to find my doctor. It's morning now, I should try for the kitchen first. He can't have a proper day without starting with a good cup of tea first. Turning the corner I frown, biting my inner lip as I pull the blanket around me tighter. He's not here. Perhaps his bedroom? While it's not likely for him to have a lie-in, near death experiences can do that to you I suppose. Spinning on the ball of my foot, the squeaky floorboard groans beneath me. The Tardis hasn't sent me good morning energy yet which is uncharacteristically quiet of her.
Feet quickening with nerves, I stop in front of the doctors' door. Sucking in a deep breath I knock, one, two, three, four times. "Doctor?" I hesitantly call, forcing the breath I'd wanted to hold out of my lungs. My hands are tight around myself in a hug as my weight shifts from foot to foot.
The door is pulled quickly open and the doctor pops his head out as a wave of fear washes over me before the memories can catch up. Yes. This is still him. His big, goofy smile that sends a spark to his eyes hits his face and any anxiety I had fades away.
"Ah Rose, excellent that you're awake! Did you sleep well? You had quite a night!" A giggle escapes my lips as my head tilts to one side.
"Don't you mean we had a long night? Honestly doctor I don't think you give yourself enough credit half the time."
His smile only widens, "Au contraire, I was fantastic. We do still have much to talk about though."
His words leave his lips and float in mid-air. I don't reply. Talking would be nice, yes. Very nice to know that he still feels the same way this morning that he did last night. Being left in my own bed hasn't helped with my fears. He hasn't opened the door any more than to pop his head through. I open my mouth but close it again. Biting my lower lip I can feel my weight shift forward. His eyes dart up and down my body. We've lived together long enough that he can pick up on my cues. "Oh goodness, yes please come in," pulling the door open wider he steps back, gesturing with his arm to the large open space filled with trinkets and bobs over every shelf. His bed sits in the middle of the room, and I settle myself on the edge of this rather than the small sitting area further away. His duvet is a deep mahogany and soft as silk. He perches on the bed next to me.
I swallow the uncertainty down. "Well, what do you want to discuss?" There, now the ball's in his court.
He looks rather uncomfortable and I'm not sure I've seen him like this before. He's suddenly very interested in his hands which play with the hem of his long sleeved royal blue night shirt. His hair is sticking up in all directions. When you haven't had hair for a few years getting used to it again must be a challenge.
"Well, you see Rose, that light- the light from when I was regenerating- should have killed you. You should have burned to death by touching me when I was regenerating." Wow. The first thing he has to say to me. He doesn't continue. Apparently the first and the only.
My back straightens a bit, I can't let me see me hurting again, I've been vulnerable once already and if he really doesn't feel the way he said he did, if it was just a heat of the moment falsified confession, I am not sure I want to hear it today. A lump forms in my throat, but I squeeze out, "Well what are you trying to say? It didn't hurt me. I didn't die. I'm sitting here next to you." I'll be the first to admit that I'm complete rubbish at masking how I feel. His eyes flicker up to mine with alarm as his hand reaches out to me, grasping me softly just above my elbow, but now my eyes can't meet his.
"Rose, you don't understand. I am so utterly thrilled that you're here. And I suppose I should say thank you. You did save me after all. And I thought I was supposed to be doing the saving? I am the doctor, after all." He muses softly. Gah, damn him and his ability to make a smile break out on my face. "I guess what I should say is that I don't understand why it happened. I just want to make sure that you're okay."
"Is that all you have to say to me then?"
"Oh, of course not. But all in good time." He has the audacity to smile and wink at me. Somehow, he's more charming now than he was before. I run my hand through my hair, it must be days since I've last brushed it. He swiftly stands, the suddenness of it almost catches me off balance, but he steadies me. Taking his hand, I stand.
"Are we going somewhere? I hear the Kepler belt is lovely during this decade." My weak attempt at a joke is awarded with a chuckle. More serious now he turns to me,
"The med bay, Rose. I'd like to run a couple of tests; with your permission of course." His face is stoic, giving nothing away. I give one tight nod as my eyebrows knit together with worry as he turns, leading us out of his room to the right.
"Doctor?" I try to put up a veneer of courage, but I am afraid. He stops turning back to look at me. I hadn't realized how tall his is now, nearly a head taller than I am. He looks intently at me, expectantly. "I just, I worry, Doctor. You can't do that to me again. You can't leave me. Losing you, it hurt more than anything I've ever gone through." I take a deep breath in a poor attempt to maintain my composure. "Promise me, doctor. Promise that you will never leave me, no matter the circumstances." His face shows it plain as day that this isn't a promise he'd willingly make, but he can see that this is my hill to die on. I can't go on wondering if one day I'll be left again if the going gets a bit dicey.
A huff of a sigh is pushed out from his lungs; he hates making promises that he wouldn't want to keep. He pushes a lock of blonde hair from my face. "Rose, I promise you that I will never send you back home alone again."
"No matter what?"
"I promise." His eyes are honest, he means it. Before I even realize it, I pull him into me, hugging him with all I have and bury my face in his neck, memorizing his new scent. I can feel the Tardis energy awakening, cheerful and joyous. To imagine the feeling, think about a wave of calm and happy being washed over you, consuming and nourishing your mind. It makes everything feel like it can be okay again.
"Thank you," Unsure if he can hear the murmur, I pull back and look at him, ready to continue on to the med bay.
The med bay is a sleek room, most of the equipment hidden neatly within the 'bigger on the inside' cupboards that line a full wall. We're so close to the controls room and the soft hum of the engines is present. Along the back wall there are many screens, all readings at zero, as there's no patient now. A hospital-style bed sits along near the screens and I'm ushered up onto it. Sitting down I can't stop my feel from nervously kicking back and forth in the air. The doctor busies himself among the cabinets, first collecting a trolly and quickly filling it up. I see a needle and several vials added the pile and my hands involuntarily uncurl from the edge of the bed, my arms pulling myself into a tight hug and grasping around my sides for leverage. I've never liked needles. I know as a kid it's something you're bound to hate, but I've never seemed to get over it.
Wheeling the trolly over again, he looks a bit silly in his pajamas about to give a medical exam. Happy that I'm no longer left with my thoughts, I look up waiting for instructions. Procuring one of those wheelie stools that only doctor offices seem to have, he takes a seat, rolling to a stop in front of me. Arms resting on his legs, his eyes meet mine, a twinge of emotion I can't put my finger on playing among his facial features. This isn't the doctor that I have grown accustomed to. His lack of self-assurance is concerning, and I shift from one hip to the next, moving further back on to the table. Lips pursed; he begins.
"Now, Rose, do you understand why I want to check you out and make sure that everything's okay?"
"Well, Doc, I should probably be dead, shouldn't I?" Even in sticky situations I don't think I could ever stop telling terrible jokes. He doesn't seem to find this one funny, though.
"Well, frankly yes. Don't get me wrong at all, I am so thrilled that you're not," I'm glad to see a genuine smile push at his cheeks, "but it is rather concerning." His tongue darts out over his lower lip.
"Alright then, fair enough I suppose. Are you going to tell me what you're going to be doing exactly or shall we just get on with it?" I nervously eye the long needle. Catching my gaze, he turns towards the equipment, shielding my view. There's been more than a couple instances in need of stitches over the years, and unfortunately, he's become very familiar with my aversion to the sharp silver objects.
"Better get on with it, I suppose. Unless you want more details, of course." He continues with his prep work without turning back, knowing that given more details it's likely I would decline all of the testing.
Not answering, my eyes close softly as I move my legs up onto the bed, laying back. I try not to recount recent events but can't seem to force them out of my memories. Rushing back into the Tardis to try to find something for him. The Tardis fading. Seeing my mum and Mickey.
I sit up so fast the doctor takes a quick step back, having gotten a fright. Brown eyes look expectantly, but cautiously, my way. "I haven't called my mum yet to tell her! Oh my gosh, she must be worried sick!" I'm on my feet and halfway to the door before he can get a word in edge wise. Just grasping the door handle, I feel his warm hand on my elbow with a firm grip. I turn in surprise.
"Rose, I think you should hold off for a bit," he gives no explanation for his words and confusion renders me momentarily speechless. "Just until we know a bit more, yeah?" His face is a mask, hiding whatever I know that he's thinking, theorizing about.
"What'd you mean, wait? Why can't I call my mum? Can't this all wait until after she's chewed me out halfway to next year?" Even I can't put jest into my voice. I feel myself faltering.
"No, I'm afraid that I don't think it can."
I allow myself to be led back towards and up onto the bed, both in silence. I take a seat again and he sits next to me, looking rather odd as the balls of his feet just barely touch the floor and he's stretching to reach for it.
"You see, I've been up all night trying to figure this out. Trying to understand what may have happened to make me such a lucky man able to hold you in a hug for another day. Wanting to think of something good, reasonable," holding my hand in his, he brushes it softly with his thumb, "looking for nothing much short of a miracle, I suppose," I don't trust my voice enough to form a response, "And you see, the only conclusion that I've come up with is that somehow you've taken in part of the essence of the Tardis."