He is running out of time.
'Every bloody time I fall asleep!' she yelled irritably, casting her eyes about, scanning the darkness. 'Would it kill you to come up with something more original?'
The errant Lord of Time— see how your own allies turn against you.
'All these monikers,' she mused, peering distastefully at the darkness creeping around her. 'Yet, what is your name?'
The Fugitive who never stopped running— finally grown weary.
She rolled her eyes, using her annoyance to tamp down her fear. She wrapped her hands around their timeline and felt her heartstrings loosen at the sight of it, coiled and burning bright.
Where is your escape, Doctor?
In this dreamscape— because, really, no matter how much she interacted with it, that's all it was— she could sense the Doctor behind her, the solidness of his back, the uneven cadence of his breathing and heartbeats.
Who is going to be there to stand with you when you see the end of time?
She would be brave. Now, without knowing what's to come. And then, when she stands face to face with whatever dares to threaten her Doctor.
It is time, Doctor, for you to finally meet your Maker.
~~~
Rose Tyler woke to a pounding headache.
'Ohhhhh,' she groaned, wincing against the all-too-bright light. It hurt to move. It hurt to think.
She was gonna be sick.
'Oh, good,' the Doctor said, much too loudly, walking into the room. Was she in a room? Or had she simply passed out in the console room? That's what it felt like, at least. She was awfully stiff. 'You're awake.'
She mustered the strength to wrinkle her nose at him and hiss, 'Shhhhhh. Loud.'
Every single one of his footsteps was a hammer against her skull. God, how much had she drunk? The memories of the night before whipped blindingly through her mind. Images of a giggling Doctor flushed with alcohol. A sunset. Dancing. Stars and stars and stars. Laughter. Firelight. A ceremony. The Doctor, his pupils blown wide, reflecting her face, slack-jawed and awed. The Doctor's hand in hers, spinning, spinning, spinning.
She sat up as bile rose in her throat, leaning over just in time to avoid sicking all over herself.
She squinted at the floorboards as her throat burned, her stomach heaving up whatever it could into the bin the TARDIS had provided. She must've been on a bed because it dipped, bringing with it a new wave of nausea and the Doctor's cool palm against her neck.
The Doctor tried his best to gather as much of her hair away from her face as he could. She looked absolutely miserable, her skin clammy and blotchy. He reached out to the TARDIS, asking for some assistance. Distantly, the bath flicked on and a glass of water appeared on the nightstand, as well as a vial of clear liquid.
Soon, the remnants of their Hendonian feast gave out, leaving Rose panting and trembling. The Doctor gently pressed his hand against her forehead, looking her over. 'I look terrible,' she grumbled, closing her eyes.
'Yeah,' the Doctor agreed. 'Two hundred and twelve shots of Hendonia wine will do that to you.'
'Two hundred fifteen,' she corrected, smiling slightly.
'If that's what you believe,' he answered cheekily. 'The TARDIS started you a bath.' He lifted the glass of water to her lips, talking as she drank, 'When you're done nursing your hangover, we'll head back to Amy and Rory's.'
'And apologise,' she added. She tipped the vial of clear liquid down her throat.
'And apologise,' he repeated. 'And go on another adventure.'
She nodded. 'Sounds like a plan.' She pulled herself up, swaying slightly as she stumbled out of bed. She paused at the doorway to her en suite before turning around, her brow furrowed. 'Doctor?'
He looked away and began fiddling with the Knicks on her nightstand. 'Hm?'
'How did I get to my room?'
'Oh, well, I carried you,' he said nonchalantly.
She nodded and frowned. 'How did I get my jim jams on?'
What a curious picture. It must've been taken when they went to that amusement park planet with Jack. A very curious picture, indeed.
'Doctor…'
He tugged on his bowtie while his other hand tapped against the picture frame. 'I, er— he cleared his throat. Bloody hell, had the TARDIS raised the interior temperature levels? He really ought to check that out. 'You passed out,' he started.
She raised her eyebrows. 'Yes?' she said.
'And you were in a dress…'
'I remember.'
'It didn't look very comfortable…'
'Mmhm?'
'So I- I…' He flapped his hands uselessly about, looking at her weakly.
'You…?' she prompted.
He huffed, his ears and face turning scarlet. 'Ichangedyouintoyourjimjams,' he mumbled.
She tilted her head, cupping a hand over her ear. 'What was that, love?'
He threw his hands down, bunching them in her sheets. 'I changed you into your jim jams,' he said, quickly but clearly.
She nodded. 'Okay, thanks.' She turned and walked— more steadily, the Doctor was relieved to find, despite his fluster— into the bathroom.
'Oh, and Doctor?' she called through the open door.
He closed his eyes. 'Yes, Rose?'
He could hear her grin. 'Next time, we're getting married for real.'
Rose lowered herself into the tub, her achy muscles loosening at the lovely temperature. She could hear the Doctor as he landed with a hard thud on her floor. She sent a mental thank-you to the TARDIS for her bath.
He scrambled into her bathroom, slipping over the air as he gawked at her. 'You knew,' he accused.
She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. 'Mmmm,' she said noncommittally.
'You knew. Were you even asleep? Were you poking fun at me? You just wanted to poke fun at me, didn't you? Is your hangover even real? And—' he stopped.
She smiled.
She peeked an eye open, looking at him through her lashes.
This new body was awfully blushy.
~~~
Rose sat cross-legged on one of the jumpseats— a new development of the TARDIS, she was sorry to see, they could only seat one person at a time— nursing a warm cuppa between her hands. The Doctor rummaged around beneath her, picking at the wiring.
Her hangover had faded and the Doctor had already made her a lunch of Yorkshire puddings. ('I invented them, you know.') As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, his voice called up, all muffled through the glass flooring, 'You reckon we should go pick Amy and Rory up?'
She shrugged and took a sip of her tea. 'I could do with some adventure.'
He looked up at her, his hair flopping over her face. Rose couldn't hold back her tongue-touched grin.
~~~
'Amy! Rory!' the Doctor called, stepping out of the TARDIS. 'We— oh, dear.' He frowned at the pile of wood beneath them.
Rose poked her head out beneath him. 'What is— oh. You've smashed their chairs.'
The Doctor winced and stepped gingerly out of the TARDIS. 'Yes, well, we'll pick them up a new set. I'm sure they didn't like that one anyway. Looks dull.' He held a hand out, helping her step over the splintered bits of wood. Somewhere deeper in the house, a kettle whistled. They followed the sound.
'Rory!' Rose called. 'Amy! We're back! Sorry for leaving so abruptly. Didn't mean to, promise!' They crossed into the kitchen.
'We— gah!' The Doctor jumped back, staring at Rory. 'You look as if a pack of Saulis kept you up.'
Rose glared at him. 'Not now, Doctor,' she silently told him and went to his side. 'Are you okay, Rory? Long night?' She lifted the kettle off the cooker and began fixing a round.
'I slept on the sofa,' he informed her monotonously. 'Amy and I had a row.'
The Doctor winced. 'Sorry, mate,' he said, sliding into the seat next to him. He lifted a hand to clap him on the shoulder but another glare from Rose had him dropping his arm.
'That's okay,' Rose said gently, setting their tea in front of them. She took the seat on his other side. 'Everybody gets into rows sometimes. It's part of loving someone.'
Rory shook his head, curling his hands around his cup. 'I don't think Amy and I are coming back from this one,' he mumbled.
Rose placed a hand on his back, rubbing in small circles. Instantly, the man burst into tears. 'I don't know what to do,' he cried. 'She hates me. She doesn't want to be with me. It doesn't matter what I do. She only settled with me because fucking Jeff is a pedo. And Charlie Corner is going to Birmingham and she didn't want to move and she never liked me except when she realized I was the only option and- and- and what if I'm not the option anymore? I—' he broke off, pressing his face into her shoulder.
The Doctor and Rose met each other's eyes across the top of his head. Her eyes flickered to the doorway. 'Go find Amy. Find out what happened.'
He nodded. 'Okay. I can do that.' Gingerly, he stood, slipping out.
~~~
He crept around the tiny flat, wrinkling his nose at the obvious domestics surrounding him. Two toothbrushes in the bathroom sink. A towel hanging on the rack. Pictures of Rory and Amy and their families. Lightbulbs that had never been fixed. Discarded shoes and coats and keys and dishes. He thanked his lucky stars he didn't have to be subjected to such mundane, ordinary tortures.
'Pond?' he called softly, knocking on doors. When no reply came, he knocked again. He learnt the hard way to knock at least three times before opening the door. From Rose, of course.
He eased the door open on squeaky hinges— the TARDIS would never allow squeaky doors. Trapdoors, perhaps, if only for the aesthetic effect, but never bedroom doors— and peered inside.
Amy sat against the wall, a pillow hugged between her knees. 'Doctor,' she whimpered, sounding all for the world like a lost child.
'Oh, Pond,' he said softly, stepping into the room.
'Rory and I had a row,' she told him, her voice wavering. The only time he had ever heard her voice waver outside of a deadly situation. Well, perhaps this situation was deadly. Just in a different way.
He parroted Rose's words back to her, 'Everybody gets into rows sometimes. It's part of loving someone.'
She shook her head, pressing her face into the pillow. 'Not like how we did. It was bad, Doctor.' She sniffed, her voice breaking, 'He said I didn't love him and I do! I do love him but I don't know how to make him know that maybe he doesn't love me anymore! Maybe I'm not cool or brilliant or prettyorbadasslikeRoseisoror—' Her voice dissolved into blubbering tears.
He pursed his lips and fiddled with his thumbs. Rose, he thought desperately. I don't know what to do. She's crying.
Crying children he could deal with. All you needed to do was ask them what was wrong. All children really wanted was to be listened to but then you could distract them and all would be well.
A distraction.
'Chin up, Pond!' he said cheerily. He grabbed her arm and hauled her tear-streaked face out of her bed. 'No more moping. Do you know what you and Rory need? A holiday!'
~~~
Rose held Rory as his tears settled. Gently, she took a handkerchief out of her coat and began wiping his face. 'Rory,' she said, firmly but softly, 'you're brilliant, and any girl who looks at you knows it. Amy doesn't hate you, I don't even know what would put such a silly notion in your head.' He scoffed but she went on, 'You aren't a last resort. Amy loved you because you're you. You're kind and beautiful, and she knows that.' She cradled his face and heard his worries, even if he didn't dare to speak them aloud.
The Doctor is so much better than I am. She's just being nice. Even Rose likes the Doctor better than you. Meeting her was an accident, she was looking for him. Nobody wants you. Nobody loves you.
Rose sighed and squeezed his shoulder. 'I love you, Rory,' she whispered. 'Not in the same way that I love the Doctor but I promise you, I swear, it's not any less.' She smiled, trying to coax one out of him as well. 'You are my best friend. My little nurse, armed with tea towels and hygin-poxide.' He cracked a small one at that. Rose ran her thumb under his eyes, wiping away his tears like she did when he was younger. 'And I know Amy feels the same way. She loves both you and the Doctor, but she'll never love the Doctor in the same way she loves you. You're her person.' Very seriously, she said, 'Trust me. I know these things. I'm clairvoyant.' She winked.
'Oh, yeah,' he scoffed. 'Gotcha.'
She handed him his tea back, satisfied as she felt his worries begin to quiet down. Perhaps they weren't quite dead yet, but they were gone for the time being.
She winced as she glanced at the timelines. 'Bloody hell,' she breathed, just in time for the Doctor to barge into the kitchen.
'Doctor,' she groaned inwardly.
'C'mon, Rory!' he cried, dragging a blotchy-faced Amy behind him. 'We're going on an adventure!'
'I'm fixing it!' he thought cheerfully.
'Doctor,' she tried, aloud. 'Maybe—'
'Just a quick hop into the Victorian Era,' he promised. 'A holiday. That's what the two of you need to fix things up. Worked in Venice.'
Amy scowled at the floor. 'Maybe there's a reason it needs to be fixed all the time.'
Rory looked down into his tea and Rose felt a pang of pity for him. 'Or we can stay in the TARDIS,' she supplied. 'Give each other space, perhaps?'
The Doctor nodded. 'Yes, yes, yes. Now, let's go!'
He grabbed Rory by the wrist, trusting Rose to follow.
~~~
The Doctor began running around the console, oblivious to the tension pulled taut between his two companions. Rose; however, was fully aware of the deliberate way Rory and Amy would refuse to look at each other.
She sighed. 'I hope you know what you're doing, Doctor,' she thought.
'I do,' he assured her. 'They don't call me the Love Doctor for nothing.'
'Who's 'they'?' She turned a lever and sent him an uneasy look across the monitor. He returned it with a confident smile, giving her hand a small squeeze as he skittered past her to slam some buttons. Rose flipped the dematerialisation switch and glanced at their companions as the ship trembled through the Vortex.
She could see their timelines, off-white with youth, running alongside each other into the distance. There were echoes of something in the future, something she didn't trust herself to look into at that moment. But the two of them would be facing it together, and that's all she cared about.
'The Victorian Era,' the Doctor announced as the ship settled. 'Ladies, pull your skirts down. Rory show your ankles. Let's pop out and say hello to the queen!' He thrust the doors open and stepped out, Rose on his heels.
Immediately, he fell.
He yelled as he slid against the rocks, landing on his bum, and smashing a plant. 'Doctor!' Rose gasped, dropping to his side. 'How could you have fallen? It's flat land!'
'There are rocks, Rose,' he said, dusting his trousers off.
'It's flat land,' she argued.
'It's—' his eyes widened as he looked over her shoulder. The tell-tale wheeze of the TARDIS piqued their ears and a jolt of panic went through both of them as they realised, too latex what was happening.
'No, no, no, no!' the Doctor yelled, clambering to his feet. 'Amy! Amy!'
'Rory!' Rose screamed, running back to the ship. Right before her hands could make contact with the door, it disappeared. Leaving echoes of the engines and the screams of their friends.
Rose turned around and stared at a shell-shocked Doctor. He dragged his eyes away from where the TARDIS had once been and looked at her.
'There are rocks,' he said.