A/N: Hey everybody! TW again for this chapter. I've played around a bit with POV here, hope you enjoy!
Nights continue like this for a week, and days aren't much better. I barely see the doctor; mainly keeping to my room, and he's quietly tinkering with the Tardis, or in his own room. I wake up earlier than normal in the mornings and make a cup of tea for each of us, leaving one at the table for him.
Many of my days are spent in bed in silent contemplation. I've come to think of my blankets as my shields, protecting me from the choices. But they let the thoughts in. The relentless, berating thoughts. I doze off from time to time, but nightmares of my own questions badger me;
'Why did you put him on the spot?'
'How could you do this to your mum? To Mickey? Don't you care about them at all?'
'You can't leave the doctor, that wouldn't be fair on you! You have to be happy too!'
'But how do you know that he even wants you anymore?'
They're suffocating me, a weight sitting on my chest constantly. Only one thing brings me sweet relief, the only thing that can quiet the voices. It calls me back to it, and more often than not I'm not strong enough to resist, finding myself sitting on the shower floor. Angry red marks scratch their way up each of my forearms in a crosshatch pattern, matching the ones on my hips.
It's Tuesday now I suppose, London time. One week since I died. Six days since I've pushed the Tardis out of my head, though her attempts to get in don't cease; just one more thing to add to my head. Her disapproval is palpable, and I'm surprised she hasn't locked me out of the bathroom yet. I can feel her energies swirling around my mind, probing for any sign of entry.
I'm not quite sure how long this might go on for, but the cutting is becoming less satiating each time. Each time I have to hold back from going deeper.
DOCTORS' POV
A week has passed since I've spoken to Rose. I – I really messed up this time, I reckon. I just don't know how I could possibly face her, this amazing, wonderful woman who's shared adventures with me, tears and laughter. A woman who I would be honored to spend a lifetime with, our lifetimes, but how could I say that? What if I were to be wrong, and she died? I wouldn't survive it. Not that I would really need to, without her. Or much the same, what if she grew tired of me, my jokes. I only have so many, you know.
Each morning I've been met with a steaming cup of tea, and if I close my eyes as I hold it gingerly I can almost feel her laughter sprinkle through the air, like soft wind chimes on a warm summers' day. A steaming cup of tea that seems to whisper softly that Rose Tyler still loves me, despite the ass I always seem to become. I hold my cup of tea this morning and inhale deeply, trying to bring myself to a simpler time, where she would be sitting across from me, and I wouldn't be trying to find the words of a lifetime to fix my blunder. I know though, that it's up to me. I've created this mess, I am the one who wasn't strong enough to face my feelings even when my no-longer-simply-human companion was. It's my turn to find the right words, I can't let this go on any longer without her knowing the truth.
THIRD PERSON
It's now the middle of the night on the Tardis, according to the biological clocks of its occupants, anyways. The tall and lanky man in the suit paces the hallway, back and forth. All of the languages in the universe and he can't find the right words to say.
A tentative knuckle knocks softly on the hard wooden door, and he stills his breathing, listening for a reply from the room. He can feel the swirling energy around him, full of excitement as it wills him to open the door with a hint of urgency. He frowns; this is very unlike his ship. Not a word has been uttered in reply to his knocking, but thanks to his keen hearing he knows that his companion is awake. Her breathing is shallow, almost gasp-like. Eyes widening, he looks down to the doorknob and grasps it, again knocking but more forcefully. After only another moment of non-reply his hand turns and the door opens slowly. The doctors face is nearly pressed flush against the door, and he peers into the empty room before the door is completely open.
A soft gasp hits his hears, and, SLAM! The door to the bathroom shuts suddenly.
"Rose?" The man calls out, in a tentative tone. The door had startled the time lord, who was expecting her to be in bed, and for them to hopefully have a nice chat where he could apologize for acting like… well, an ass.
He steps out from behind the now open door, his slippers patting softly against the pliable hardwood floor. Concern flames over his features as he looks anxiously towards the door. Striding with passion, he moves around the large bed, and knocks briskly.
"Rose? Are you alright in there? I've just come for a chat, I was hoping you could join me for a cup of tea," an audible intake of breath is the only reply for a moment, until a twisted voice wafts through the door.
"Doctor, this isn't really the best time. Could we do this in the morning or something?"
Frown deepening, he feels the swirling Tardis energy become more frantic, nearly in a panic state, as if it's trying to propel him into opening the door in front of him.
"Rose? What's going on in there? You never answered my question, are you quite alright?" No reply. He reaches into the pocket of his pajamas where his sonic sits. Silence breaks into quiet tears from the bathroom floor. "I'm coming in now Rose," with a quick move from the screwdriver the door is unlocked. The time lord opens it slowly, unsure of where she is sitting and the sight he's about to find. She's never done this before; she's always been one to talk it out. 'You haven't exactly given her the space to do that now, have you Doctor?' His inner monologue chastises him.
"Doctor, wait," the door midway open, he stops. "I should probably warn you before you see…" a pregnant pause hangs in the air. Only part of her heart shaped face is visible through the crack, and his determined eyes latch onto her tearful ones which are quickly averted to her lap. "I think I may be in need of a doctor, actually." He can nearly see the weak smile on her lips, but a newfound concern rises through him, not sparing a moment before forcefully shoving the door fully open. His eyes widen at the scene on the floor. Rose is in her pajamas, hair a mess.
Her eyes are rimmed in red and a bluish-purple underneath, it is obvious she has not been sleeping. Biting her lower lip, he can see tears threatening to fall. The most striking feature of the scene however is her arm, dripping red onto what used to be a striking white towel. Blood pours down and he sees a small glint of metal discarded on her right side, just having fallen out of her hand by the looks of it. Her eyes fearfully search his face, and he becomes hyper-aware of his appearance, which is likely quite intimidating. Taking a deep breath. he makes a conscious effort to put a kinder look on his face. He sits down next to her on the floor quietly, their eyes not breaking contact. He's yet to speak, but his lips pucker as he tries to find the right words, eyes feeling misty. Sometimes a moment is too powerful, too emotional for words. Ignoring the likely possibility that the blood will stain his clothing he pulls her into a tight hug, tucking her head under his chin after a quick kiss to the forehead. While her eyes are covered he snatches the blade, carefully stowing it away in his pocket, far away from his untold love.
He murmurs, but mostly to himself, "Oh, my Rosie, what have you done?" More audibly this time, "Darling, why didn't you come to me?"
Loud sniffled are the first response before she manages to choke out words. "I didn't think you'd want to be bothered with my problems anymore, I didn't even know if you still wanted me here. I still don't know. All of this is just all of my fault, and I don't know what I'm doing now, Doctor, I really don't. I don't know where I'm to go, but I don't think you'd want me here, anymore." They fall out of her mouth and he takes it. He deserves it. All she's gone through and he left her to be alone, to face it all. She takes several deep breaths.
A deep sigh, deeper than time, breaks through the doctors' lips as he grasps her pink cheek in his hand, urging her to meet his gaze. "My Rose Tyler, I know that this is going to be hard to hear after my actions, but there are two things you need to know for certain. Firstly, this is neither the place nor the circumstances under which I want to confess to you how much I need and want you in my life. Secondly, Rose Tyler, I cannot express deeply enough how much I cannot exist in this universe without you."