The afternoon was a quiet one; it faded away like smoke from a chimney, comforting, like home. We hadn't spoken about it as of yet – and I wasn't relishing in the thought of the conversation. What if the Doctor was as afraid as I was about how easily he could hurt me?
What if he thought it wasn't worth the trouble in the end?
Questions lingered and flitted around the corners of my mind as I took a lone evening stroll through the dim corridors of the Tardis. Passing familiar rooms and pausing in the doorways of some of my favorites. The library was grand, perhaps the largest room aboard the ship. It stretched on for years, and the way the Tardis stretched its impossibly small walls around impossibly large rooms never ceased to amaze me.
I continued on down the hallway. It felt as though I was searching for something, but I had seen this side of the ship already. I pause on the pad of my foot – you can't discover new things if you take the same paths. With a shake of my head I turn, ready to find a new, unexplored doorway. But something about the tinge of the library entrance drew me inside. The door whispered shut behind me, and I began walking down a row of dark shelves, luscious carpet muffling my footfalls.
My hand traced the outline of a hundred titles, most so ancient the bindings were worn and unreadable. A handful were readable, but my eyes flitted over them.
The shelves twisted deeper into the chasms of the library, and I wandered with the guiding energy of the Tardis at my side. She's a funny thing, really. She's like an invisible best friend holding your hand as you go. Murmuring in your ear as you walk, and then stop.
The bookshelves parted to make way for an arched doorway, the dark stone kissing the edges of the wood like a long-lost lover: happy to be together, and blending in quietly among the shadows. My curiosity piqued; even with all of the hours I spent rifling through books alongside my Doctor, I had never seen this pathway before. A new direction. An adventure.
Feet carrying me down the unlit path, mind picking up momentum. I halted at a large wooden door, not unlike the shelves I left several paces ago. The handle was large and heavy, much like the door and I quietly pressed it open, only a soft creak gracing the air.
Floor to ceiling windows opened up the narrow room, with a breathtaking landscape in view. The tallest mountains you've ever seen painted across the sky; a waterfall piling down the side and plants in every color imaginable which I had no name for clinging onto their edges. Reminding myself to breathe, I stepped out into the center of the room. A smaller, singular bookshelf adorned itself against the back wall, the one with the door, as every other one was made of glass. An empty small side table complimented and oversized chair, more apply called a small bed.
Golden streaks from the setting sun stole my gaze, and in a silence so sharp it felt like it could be shattered, I could sense the warmth of Tardis energy settling around me, within me. It felt like home. Hearing the tiniest of thunks behind me, I tore my eyes from the view, to see the empty side table decorated with a steaming cup of tea and a title-less novel. Stepping towards the table I grasped the book, tentatively pulling the cover open but not before admiring the lilac binding. My lungs expanded with a shocked breath; not at the mysteriously appearing title, but at how she knew my favorite book from when I was a young child: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. The irony was palpable; for years and years I had read stories about adventures, talking cats and animals, and even a wardrobe that was much, much bigger on the inside. I had yearned to dream big enough to fit the entire story inside my head each evening, but now? Now I lived these dreams every single day, inside a box unimaginably larger on the inside; until perhaps, now. Who knows what may happen now?
The Tardis couldn't talk, but she cared for us, and she tried to always provide what we needed most; this afternoon of peace was worth more than I could ever repay her for. Devoid of my own thoughts, I sunk down onto the lounger and began to thumb through the book. Page by page I drank in the familiar words, only pausing to sip the cooling tea.
I was vaguely aware of the darkening sky, but only slightly. I had drifted off to dreamland far away by the time the stars were visible.
- Doctor POV -
Cool air had settled in the lounge room, but the fire did a good job keeping the chill out of the air. With a swift lift of my hand the cool glass residing in it was empty. Liquid courage, I suppose. I've never had to deal with anything like this before. For nearly a thousand years I have battled creatures and entire races; always trying to fight for the good side and uphold what is right. I faced all of these with what I would like to say bravery, but maybe it was just quick thinking and a bit of luck, tied together with a sonic screwdriver? I've dressed up as knights before, but I've never been expected to play the entire part in shining armor. In any case, what was it about the demons living in Rose Tyler's head that terrified me so?
Was it because I put them there? If Rose had never travelled with me, she never would have gotten hurt. She would be safe, at home with her mum. I think we both know that she would never be satisfied returning to that life now.
Or was it because the stakes were much higher than a planet, a galaxy, or the universe? The biggest stake of them all was sitting aboard my ship at this very moment.
After all we've been through together, I've not been able to picture a life beyond Rose. Every memory prior to her now feels incomplete – my team wasn't whole before her. Likewise, every dream or fantasy of the future has a bright blonde by my side, and hand in hand we solve the problems of the universe together. I suppose first though we have to solve the problems of Rose Tyler, because as of very recently the bright blonde in my future visions has red wrists. Red wrists from pain residing inside her head, partially implanted there by yours truly.
At this thought I looked back into the fire, willing it to give me the answers I longed for. I needed to know how to help her, how to fix this. I could never go on with her having to endure this – this... suffering. I too, could never be okay without my whole Rose.
Bang – Bang – Bang – Bang … the loud grandfather clock at the head of the lounge did its duty and chimed until I was fully informed that it was officially midnight. A new day. I had to go find Rose, she had been gone for a considerable amount of time. She loved to wander the Tardis, trying to unravel the secrets the old blue box held. She'd asked for time. Time to think? To plan? She did not specify. But I meant what I said in the med bay; we needed to have a good long chat.
Mind made up; I made a start. I set the kettle to boil in the kitchen and fetched a fresh handkerchief from my living quarters. I would be flabbergasted if the night ended without tears shed from at least one party, and a steaming cup of tea seemed to make everything feel a bit better, or at least a bit more okay with not being okay.
A deep, cold breath filled my lungs, and my hearts were beating half a light year a minute. It was time to find my Rose. Stepping into the hallway, I stopped short – there was no telling where to even begin. Rose could easily disappear for days in the Tardis; it was never easy to find her on my own in this labyrinth.
"Alright old girl, where is she now?"
A gentle whirr-ing began from deep within her, below the floor and ticking my feet from the vibrations. A gold mist seeped up from between atoms comprising the cold stone floor; if you listened carefully enough you could hear the squish, squish, squish as they slunk through. My god, it was a sight to see. The mist was lively, and the purest shade you could imagine. It was as though the fallen wings of Icarus had vaporized and lived within the Tardis as her breath. I really did miss the child; it was my greatest regret not flying closer to him. Now, my greatest regret just may be allowing another love of mine out of sight when I wasn't certain they were okay.
Mist swirled around my feet, curling and tangling among itself, playing, for just a moment. Sinking back to the ground in a fog, it began to move – and quickly. My footsteps were quiet yet determined. I barely took a breath as I listened for any sign of her through the tunnels. Down the hall we raced, me following my newest guide. We didn't have far to travel it seemed. Mere minutes later, we were in front of the grand library. A particular favorite of mine. She'd designed this room well, and it suited me. The books were endless, even a time lord couldn't fathom reading them all.
The door was open just a smidge, and the mist entered through the crack as though it was being sucked into a vacuum. The last tendril had slipped away as I thrust open the wooden barrier.
The mist was gone. In its place, a single golden rose petal the same shade as the mist had been sat on the floor in front of my feet, mere steps from the door. Lowering myself down, I picked up the lone petal. After a quick but careful inspection thanks to my eyes and my sonic, I notice the appearance of another, moving into the library. I stood and picked up this second petal, tucking the first into my front pocket. Such intricacy, beauty. Another appeared. With each one I grasped, its predecessor materialized, each one leading me further into the hallway. Mist dusted on some book covers we passed in a peculiar pattern; I touched one of these lightly before de-shelving the book. I realized it was a handprint, but I was only seeing it along the spine. Smaller than mine. Hers. With this realization I placed the book back with a renewed vigor. No new petals appeared, but instead golden footprints grew from the floor. As I quickened my pace they appeared faster, faster still, until I was running full tilt down the aisle. I stopped short when the footprints did, too. Just outside the tunnel to the reading room.
A moment of hesitation gripped me. It had always been hidden, to every companion, but now, exposed? I hadn't thought that the Tardis would reveal it to anybody, but even she knew that Rose was different. Special. A grin broke upon my face and tore down the dark masonry tunnel. I could see the door nearing me, and in front of me at shoulder height hovered a single, golden rose. A perfect one, spinning gently. You could lose yourself in your own mind without something, someone important enough to anchor your feet to the floor. Delicately, as though it would shatter at the thought, I plucked the rose from mid-air. It was lighter than I imagined, but every bit as beautiful. Elegant.
One hand on the door and one on the golden rose, I took a deep breath to calm my own nerves before pushing onward.