Disclaimer: see the first chapter.
News: I saw 'V for Vendetta' the other day and I STRONGLY recommend it (http / www . apple . com / trailers / wb / v()for()vendetta / trailer()large . html )
For that website just delete the spaces and for anywhere with () put an underscore.To warn you I may add in something about 'V for Vendetta' in this story, hard to say though. Also, does anyone have news on when season 2 of Doctor Who is coming out? I'm not in Europe so I have no idea what so ever. Any info would be appreciated.
Thank you all so much! I was so nervous that I would do really bad at the whole Doctor Who fic thing, and I know I'm going to have problems getting the Doctor the way I want, but I want this to be good and will do my best. I was so happy with all the reviews, it means so much to me so thank you again! And thanks for the suggestions. As you will see if you reread chapter 1, I've changed it a bit based on suggestions, let me know what you think.
IMPORANT: I got one review hinting that it might have been a cool idea to start the story at the very beginning of Rose's illness for more suspense building, but you will soon see that I'm just getting started P I've got a brief idea of the next few chapters and its going to get pretty darn suspenseful, I hope that's ok.
Also, this is not a character death fic! I hate killing anyone, especially main characters. For all I know Rose could get amnesia and forget about the Doctor because of the illness, but no one will die, I assure you.
Anyways, I'll shut up now, here's chapter 2, just as I promised.
Only You
Chapter 2 – The Library
The Doctor sighed in frustration and sat up in bed, the blankets of his bed pooling around his waist as he pinched the bridge of his nose. It was no use; he would never get any sleep at this rate. He had spent the last two hours after making sure Rose was asleep lying in his bed, trying to force sleep to claim him, but it wasn't co-operating and he was more awake than he had been before.
He just couldn't get his mind quiet, he was continuously thinking about Rose's symptoms and trying to match them up to the alien illnesses he had come into contact with, but nothing quite matched. Growling in frustration at his own stupidity, he threw the covers carelessly aside and, after grabbing his jacket from the chair and throwing it quickly over his bare shoulders, he moved quickly through the Tardis towards his library.
On the way he passed the doorway to the control room. Deciding to check up on their location when he was there, he pushed open the door quietly and slipped carefully into the low humming room. He checked the screen and was happy to see that they were still drifting through time and space. Until Rose was feeling better and until they had an actual destination, he decided it was safer to keep the Tardis out of reach of everyone.
He began to make a beeline towards the corridor door that led towards the library when he suddenly felt his stomach drop and was looking up at the glowing coral-type pillars making up the ceiling structure of his beloved time machine. In a daze, his muddled mind tried to figure out why exactly he was lying on the floor. Groaning, he slowly picked himself up until he was sitting, cross-legged, and sweeping the room's floor with his bright blue eyes.
The alien eyes half closed in a glare as they landed on the culprit of his fall. A magazine. Rose's magazine. Pushing himself up, back onto his feet, he walked over and picked up the offending piece of human paper. 'Have I not told her a thousand times that I do not do domestic?' he though to himself as he threw the magazine down onto the couch. Looking around for more offending 'domestic items', he quickly picked up a sweater that was laying, bunched up on the floor and a small bag of makeup that had been gathering dust in a corner and they soon joined the magazine on the couch.
Snorting to himself, he knew that Rose was turning him domestic, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it, 'and,' he thought to himself, 'I don't really mind at all." His lips curved upwards into a tired smile as he shook his head at himself. If he had seen himself like this before he had met Rose, he probably would have shot himself down with his sonic screwdriver.
The cleaning done, and the domestic threats dealt with, the Doctor slowly walked down the familiar corridors until he was standing in front of an old oak door. He turned the silver knob slowly clockwise and then slipped inside with stealth of a Furtim Beatitas (let's just call it an alien type cat shall we?) and closed the door quickly behind him. Lights turned on automatically above him and the room was bathed in a dull golden glow.
He began busying himself in grabbing books ranging in variety from age, to make, to size, the only thing they had in common was the subject of alien illnesses and their cures. The first book the Doctor picked up was bound in an old leather-type material, with gold writing reflecting the glow from the light above him. He quickly flipped the pages, his eyes darting back and forth quickly as he scanned the writings. He had no idea how humans managed to get anything read at their rate of reading, but he didn't bother dwelling on the thought as his eyes stopped on a specific entry.
Silva Poena – most common on the planet Pluviatre
Symptoms include pains in the stomach area, headaches, and a high fever. It has been known to happen that the fever grows to a temperature great enough to cause the patient's body to burst into flames. Most symptoms will appear within the same day, two at most, and if not treated carefully with Unda from Pluviatre, this illness could be fatal.
The Doctor's memory was pushed back throughout the last week. He remembered when they were visiting Space Station 973 to enjoy the meeting of the alien leaders in the year 3billion.delta/banana.2, how Rose had complained continuously about a headache beyond what she had ever had before. She had described it as though her head was being split in two by white-hot flames. He grimaced at the memory of her face, contorted in pain. He had offered to take her back to the Tardis for a break but she had outright refused, saying she wouldn't stop saving the world because of 'one bloody headache', no matter how bad.
The headaches, as he remembered, had been painful and ruthless, yet spread out throughout the week, making them seem irrelevant, oh how he wished he had paid attention then. Guilt filled his mind as he realized he could have stopped this at the very beginning. He shook his head, he had made the mistake and there was nothing he could do now except fix it before it got any worse.
Two days after the first headache, the Doctor remembered Rose waking up coughing, but it had subsided within minutes and he had once again cast aside the illness as her human body acting up slightly. After all, what did he know about the human body? He wasn't human, he didn't study humans, all he knew was what he had seen from his companions, and that hadn't been a whole lot.
But as the week had progressed, the headaches became more frequent, the coughing more painful and life threatening, and Rose's energy levels dropped. He had been watching her an increasing amount in case she needed any help when she started coughing and they had made fewer and fewer destination stops when Rose grew incapable of keeping up with him and staying ahead of the danger following them. Yesterday (A/N: it was past midnight now) Rose had asked him to take her somewhere, and seeing as she wasn't coughing or complaining about a headache, he had obliged.
How many more mistakes could he have possibly made last week? He felt horrible, Rose was suffering because he had been too busy saving the world, and now he may lose her. 'No!' he thought forcefully to himself as he threw the book aside, 'she'll be fine, I'll make sure of it!' Thinking about the book he had just read, he realized that, though some of the symptoms matched, it was not the same.
He quickly scanned through more books as the time trickled by. Every minute that passed by seemed agonizingly slow to the Time Lord as Rose went another minute without the Doctor knowing how to help her. Every book he read through, every minute that passed, every illness he read about that didn't match what Rose was going through, the Doctor grew more and more frantic. No longer taking the care to place the finished books down on the desk, there was soon a litter of books scattered about on the carpeted floor, but he didn't notice.
As the Doctor finished flipping through the book, 'All You Need to Know About Alien Illness,' and found nothing, he threw the book aside, the old ratty book landing on the dusty carpet with a dull 'thud', the desperate Time Lord reached back out at the desk for another book. When his hands skimmed over the worn wooden tabletop, he looked up sharply to find that there were no books left to read through. But that was impossible. He had run out of books on the subject and he still didn't even know what illness Rose had?
'This is absurd!' he thought to himself, hardly believing that he, himself, the last Time Lord, hadn't even found a clue about the illness, 'there is no way that I don't know this. I should know this, I have got to know this!' Looking around at the discarded books on the floor, he pushed back the wooden chair from the desk. He ran a calloused hand over his short hair in disdain, when suddenly an idea hit him. He wasn't beat yet! He had one last hope up his sleeve.
Ignoring the mess he had created, he navigated his way through the relatively small library, through the maze of shelves, until he came to what he knew to be the back of the library. There he spotted a very ornate bookshelf all on its own, protecting its special books from everything but the dust that had coated the books and the floor around. With baited breath, the Doctor moved down the rest of the corridor, his foot falls muffled by the dust and carpet, and reached out his hand, picking up a specific book from the middle shelf.
Blowing off the dust from the book, he smiled sadly as the ratty and worn blue leather binding and silver letters jumped out at him. How long had it been since he had looked at these books? He didn't know, and right now he didn't care. He opened the book with the title, 'The Complete Guide for Illnesses Known to Time Lords,' and skimmed the book, this time more slowly, holding the book from his home in his hands as if it was a newborn child.
As he neared the end of the book, his eyes snapped back to the page he had just finished and he let out a gasp of horror and shock. He read over the entry in the book, maybe ten times, and there was no doubt that this was describing exactly what Rose had. His hands began to tremble at what he had just stumbled upon. This couldn't be happening; a mere human didn't deserve this.
The book slipped from his limp hands and fell lightly to the ground, a small cloud of dust rising before settling back down on the ground, but the Doctor never saw. His mind was drawing a blank, this just wasn't fair, "Aras Heru quod Heryn En Lond Nor quod Inferne," he slipped into the tongue of the Time Lords subconsciously in his shock.
A/N: Sorry it's a bit late, I had a lot of homework but I promised an update today and I didn't want to let you down. Tomorrow I plan on spending every free moment in school making more plot branches and adding details.If there are any spelling issues let me know. I was too excited to get this out to really do a proper edit, though I will be going over it tomorrow and making any changes necessary.
A/N2: As you can see I like making these A/Ns, but I have a habit of making a new one for each idea that I want to talk about so people can easily skim it and read what they are interested in.
A/N3: With the languages, I'm going crazy. I now have more Latin translations (who knows how right they are) as well as some Elvish translations (from Lord of the Rings) here or there. Would you guys like translations? Like, the name of some illnesses are Latin are nothing special, but I guess I'll make translations when things are said ok?
"Aras Heru quod Heryn En Lond Nor quod Inferne," – the Doctor, last paragraph Time Lord language
"Dear Lord and Lady of the Haven Above and Beyond,"
A/N4: Whether for comments, suggestions, telling me to shut up with the A/Ns, I'd love more reviews! -Wink wink- If I don't get an update during the week, you can look for one for sure next weekend. Until then.