The Eden Project
by obscire
- Chapter One -
A Day in the Life
"Without friends no one would choose to live, though he had all other goods."
- Aristotle [483 BC – 322 BC]
'And the reports across London don't seem to be offering us any sign of relief from this bitter weather; many places still remain closed and the public is advised to stay inside at all costs. Work is being done to clear the roads, but with the nation steadily running out of grit and the blizzards getting heavier, it's hard to imagine anyone seeing much improvement before the week is out.'
The news reporter's grainy image flickered, momentarily losing focus as his voice became garbled with noise. Jacqueline Tyler, never much of a one for patience, gave the TV set a hasty bang with her closed fist. For a second the reporter came back, eyes sombre and mouth set in a straight line, before fizzing out entirely to static.
She sighed exasperatedly. "Bloody thing."
"Not to worry, Jackie!" A smiling face poked itself out of the doorway from the kitchen, a bawdy mass of chestnut hair coming with it. "I'll have her fixed up in no time."
Jackie narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "It's your fault the bloomin' thing ain't working in the first place."
"I'm only trying to help," came the meek reply.
"Last time you 'tried to help', I was cleaning spaghetti bolognese off my walls for days!"
"Hmph. Well, if you'd rather have some sub-standard conman come in to your house, call himself an electrician and charge you for the privilege, then be my guest."
"'Sub-standard'?" Jackie bit out. "'Conman'?" How 'bout you then, Doctor? Where's your degree?"
"Now, hang on a moment," said the man himself, coming into the living room and straightening to his full height. "That's entirely different. For starters, I never pretend to be anything I'm not. In fact – "
"You two arguing again?" The smiling sigh came from behind them, where a pretty blonde stood with her arms folded and a gentle smile in her eyes. She glanced from one side of the room to the other, from her mum to her best friend, and grinned. "Can't leave the room without you starting something."
The Doctor pulled at his loosened tie, clearing his throat. "Actually, Rose, Jackie was just thanking me for trying to help with the TV signal."
Rose snorted loudly. "As if. You do remember the bolognese incident, don't you?"
As Jackie let out a giggle, the Doctor muttered a good natured, 'Oh, shut up,' before disappearing back into the kitchen.
It had been an unusual visit. Usually, when the Doctor and Rose popped back to London it was only for a few hours, for a day at most. There had been the odd special occasion (birthdays, a Christmas here or there when they felt like one) which demanded more of their attention, but they were usually off not too long afterwards.
This visit was… different. It was their third day in London and it was drawing towards a record. The longest to date had been just after the Doctor had regenerated, but a lot of that had been to do with his mostly being unconscious and – as he constantly pointed out whenever Rose brought it up – it hadn't exactly been a choice to stay that long.
It was mid-February and the relentless snow was strange for that time of year. Most of the London streets were deserted, apart from kids who still weren't tired of snowballs and snowmen, and all around the city there was the feeling that the safest place was indoors. It might have gone a little way to explaining why both Rose and the Doctor weren't yet suffering from itchy feet, but that in itself was a mystery.
Rose left her mum to debate with the TV and followed the Doctor back through to the kitchen, where for the past half hour he had been staring very intently at the microwave as he tried to figure out how to program the twenty-four hour clock.
She stood in the doorway, arms and ankles folded – a striking pose she'd learned from another man in the Doctor's shoes – and watched him for a few moments. He wasn't half funny; sitting back and forward, hands scraping through his wild, flyaway hair. Every now and then he would let out a sigh of frustration, and once or twice she caught him glance longingly towards the sonic screwdriver.
Her mum had said, seeing as they were there for so long, that he might as well make himself useful. "That clock on the microwave has been broken for months," she'd said, eyeing the Doctor steadily. "Can't for the life of me get my head round it. Maybe you could have a look, Doctor? Only, no alien stuff – I won't have anything 'foreign' near my cooking implements, thank you!"
He wouldn't have normally obeyed her, but Rose had dared him to do it. Nearly thirty hours later, he was still trying to figure it out. She covered her mouth as she let out a laugh at the thought.
Turning at her sound, he lifted an eyebrow. "You know, I'm not even sure this was manufactured on Earth," he complained with a sniff, standing up. "I'm clever. Very clever. If I can't figure it out, there's no way it was made here."
"Getting the better of you, is it?" she teased, coming into the room. "Pretty sure it was working when we bought it."
"Yes, well." He turned, frowning hard at the cheap and cheerful piece of equipment in front of him. "Give me a moment. I'm deducing."
With a smirk, Rose wandered over to his side, staring intently at the microwave dials in front of her. She leaned a casual hand against the Doctor's back as, leaning forward, she tapped at a few of the buttons on the panel.
"Don't! I'm trying to set this and it's very precise, you can't just – "
With a beep and a flash the correct time popped up onto the display, exact down to the last second. Rose turned to the Doctor with a hidden smile and he reached up, scratching at his chin.
"Yes, well, I knew that was there, of course. That was easy the quick-fix way; I was under the impression Jackie wanted it done properly, can't have these half-arsed attempts at things you know, better it's fixed properly, better it's… " He trailed off as he watched her expression, something mocking in her eyes. "Did I ever tell you about the time I went to Cisca?" he put in hopefully. "Wonderful planet, I'll have to take you sometime, the drinks come with these cute little cocktail sticks… "
They wandered back into the living room arm in arm, the Doctor recounting one of his many tales from his past and Rose laughing at his side. Within minutes they felt the old pull of time and space begin to get to them and, despite the snow and comfort of the house, they shared an expression which told the other it was time to go.
Detaching from the Doctor's side, Rose approached her mother, who was still trying in vain to fiddle with the TV aerial.
"Think we're gonna head off now, Mum," she said apologetically with a tight smile. "Places to be and all that."
Jackie turned suddenly, a crestfallen expression stealing her features. "But I've made shepherd's pie for dinner - we was gonna sit down together, have a nice family meal." She paused, glancing between them. "It hasn't been the same since Mickey … left."
Rose and the Doctor exchanged the same awkward glance, his because of the idea of a 'family meal' and hers because of the guilt of Mickey's departure.
"I'm sorry, Mum," Rose continued, turning back and touching her arm. "We'll be back soon, yeah? Could be five minutes if you wanted, time machine and everything."
"It won't be, though, will it?"
The meaningful look she shot them both registered deeply and, though both Rose and the Doctor knew they couldn't really stay much longer, it hit its mark.
They left the flat together in silence, Jackie's eyes following them from the door all the way down to the bottom of the stairs. Rose waited until she was outside before she said anything, and she rubbed her arms, her skin reacting to the cold winter air.
"I hate it when she does that," she grumbled as they walked, their feet leaving imprints in the snow.
"You are her only daughter. I know I plan trips not too far apart, every couple of weeks really, but it must be difficult."
She gave him a wary glance. "Whose side are you on?"
"You know it's not about sides," the Doctor responded tenderly, reaching down to take her hand. "She shouldn't manipulate you, but she misses you. It's what people do."
"I guess."
The snow was still falling and it clung to their clothes as they walked, causing Rose to wrinkle her nose whenever a flake drifted into her face. Every surface was covered in a blanket of white - it was the ideal picture of London in the middle of winter.
As they rounded the next corner, the TARDIS loomed into view, her proud posture steadfast against the backdrop of white. It filled both the Doctor and Rose with a comforting air, something that felt more like home than most other things in the universe.
"I wish she'd find someone," Rose blurted as they approached.
The Doctor shot her an amused glance. "Your mum?"
"Yeah. Least then I wouldn't feel so bad about leaving her behind all the time."
The Doctor knew that Jackie was, now, the only reason he and Rose ever bothered coming back to London so often. He'd always told himself he would never allow himself to get involved with the families of his companions, but somehow Jackie was different. Perhaps it was because she was left alone, but he, too, felt guilt when he thought about stealing away her only daughter into the dead of night.
Still, as he released her hand and reached for his key, he let his eyes rove over her for a second - she smiled in return. He paused, his key firmly in the lock.
"I'm so pleased you're travelling with me," he said quietly, smiling as flakes of snow melted on her skin.
She grinned. "Yeah, me too. S'wonderful."
"Life would be … very different without you."
Their gaze held for a long moment, but Rose's soon turned questioning. She tilted her head, surveying him in the way that always made him feel like she was seeing more of him than he wanted to let on.
He shouldered open the door, shrugging off his jacket and throwing it over one of the coral pillars. The TARDIS console pulsed as they entered, the column light fading to a pale green.
"Hello, old girl," he said softly, running a hand over the pillar. "Miss us?"
Rose, who was watching from the door, pulled it shut and kicked off her shoes. "She can't understand you, right?" she asked curiously as she walked up the ramp to the centre console.
"Not my words, no."
She grinned teasingly. "So it's like talking to a plant."
"It's a bit more complicated than that. When humans have pets, they form bonds with them - they feel something for them. They learn their behavioural patterns and can usually tell the instant is something wrong, and it works both ways. The animal needs to be loved and cared for, it needs certain things that it learns to rely on its owner for. And, conversely, the owner gets satisfaction out of caring for something in that way. It's a sense of completion, wholeness." He looked longingly up the pillar of the TARDIS, into the vast ceiling above. "You miss it when it's not there."
Rose blinked at him, her silence a sign of her awe.
"We've been through a lot together, my TARDIS and me," he continued, smiling. "I rescued her, you know."
"You what?"
The Doctor moved around the console unit, flicking switches here or there and checking the readings appearing on the monitor. "It's true. She was in wreckage, broken. They were fixing her up, but they hadn't quite finished on her … I guess I recognised something kindred, so I sneaked in and nicked her when no one was looking." At the disparaging look Rose shot him, he added, "I was young then. Never did pass my test."
Letting out a laugh, Rose grinned, patting him on the shoulder. "Least that explains the shoddy driving, then."
"Oi!" He frowned at her, rolling up his sleeves. "I've told you before, TARDISes are actually meant – "
"To be piloted by more than one Time Lord, I know," Rose finished, rolling her eyes - it was the same defence the Doctor always used when she commented that she ended up on her bum more often from his piloting than anything else. "Like to see six of you fit 'round here, though."
"Should have met me in my eighth form," he dropped in, tapping at a keyboard. "TARDIS was bigger, very Edwardian – liked a lot of wood. Had a thing for style, back then."
"As opposed to now, you mean?" Rose teased, touching her tongue to the corner of her mouth.
The Doctor threw a pad of post-its at her.
«¤»
The sun's heat was beating down persistently, its rays shining in the dusky air. Rose was pleased she'd decided dungarees and t-shirt; anything else and she would be suffering with unbearable heat exhaustion. Everywhere the light touched shone back in brilliant radiance, crystallised beads clinging to the grassy surface. It was dew, the Doctor had told her, formed at night time and lit to radiance at dawn and dusk. The purple sky above was burning a crisp golden at the horizon, but the air was humid, as though the planet had been holding the same breath for hundreds of years.
Rose, however, didn't have the time to absorb the beauty of the landscape – at that precise moment she was lunged face-first into long fur that smelled worse than the Doctor's socks, trying very hard not to breathe in through her nose but failing with almost every breath. She kept being juddered about from one side to another, and would have fallen if her hands weren't buried so far in the creature's hide.
"Come on, Rose," the Doctor chided, trotting up to her with a grin. She glared out at him. He would, of course, be a total master at riding these things, not even needing to use the reigns, which dangled either side down by his feet.
She tried to sit up, wrapping the reigns around her arms as her animal snorted in contempt.
"Easy Rose, easy," said the Doctor, giving his own one a gentle pat. It snorted and nuzzled up into his palm. "They're very delicate creatures, the Eloo."
"They're a bloody nightmare is what they are." Her Eloo shook itself, hard, and Rose got the distinct impression it was trying to throw her off. As she settled back on top of it, she gave the Doctor a pointed look. "See? When you suggested 'a bit of fun', I thought you meant paddling in the sea, or something."
The Eloo were an animal more for the tourists, indigenous to the planet and, by nature, very calm and friendly. They looked like some sort of weird cross between an emu and a horse, and given that Rose had a fear of horses her eyes hadn't exactly lit up when they'd appeared at the stables for a session of riding. Their guide was up ahead, trotting slowly to lead the way, but of course the Doctor had spent most of the session so far galloping off and enjoying the ride, not pootling on slowly right at the back.
"You know what humans say back on Earth, about children and the sea?" the Doctor responded, giving his Eloo a soft ruffle. He watched Rose with an amused air as she tried to get hers to take a step forward. "Yes, well. Never mind about children, just – trust me, you don't want to go paddling in the sea. Now, are you going to hurry up?"
"That's easy enough for you to say," she retorted, eyeing his beige Eloo with wary eyes. "Yours actually does what you tell it."
The Doctor smiled, urging his creature onward, and it obeyed without even a twitch from the reigns. "I've just done this before, that's all," he threw back over his shoulder. "Nothing to it!"
Rose humphed and tried the same tactic she'd just seen the Doctor do – all it got for her was an irritated snort and a stamp of a hoof on the dusty, crystallised path.
"I don't like it either, all right?" she spoke to it firmly, plunging her hands into its fur again. "Be quicker walking at this rate," she added in a mutter.
The Doctor, who was trotting away happily, stopped and turned. His Eloo, sensing a break, lowered its head and started munching on the grass flaked around its feet. Their guide was several metres away, continuing on at a studious pace and never once stopping.
"Think I'm gonna walk the rest of the way back," Rose called out to the Doctor, swinging one of her legs over as she prepared to dismount. "Reckon it'll be – "
"No Rose, don't!"
His warning cry was lost on her, however, as was his anguished expression. Just as she went to hop down to the floor, the Eloo tossed back its head and let out an almighty screech, then cantered off in a random direction, snorting and shaking its shaggy head from side to side. And Rose, whose arms were still caught up in the reigns, found herself flung towards the ground before half her organs knew what was happening.
The beast galloped on, the sound of its hooves deafening in her ears, and she realised the only reason she hadn't fallen from it completely and been trampled to death were because of the leather reigns. Still, her weight was heavy against the Eloo and kept pulling it to one side, and every attempt to try and mount the thing again just ended up with her slipping closer and closer to the ground.
"Doctor!" she cried out, her voice muffled against the clattering of hoofs by her ear. In desperation she grabbed, hard, into the Eloo's fur – but that only made it run harder, faster, and she soon felt herself begin the slip. She had to close her eyes and mouth to stop the whirl of dust choking her and she thought, for a second, maybe the best thing to do would just be to throw herself to the ground while she still had the chance.
But that meant getting herself out of the reigns and she couldn't even see, let alone manoeuvre. Perhaps it was the end, she thought bitterly – timeless accounts of running away and getting out of jail cells, and this is how Rose Tyler meets her demise: trampled to death on an alien planet by a creature whose name made her think of cyberspace toilets. Great.
She choked and spluttered as a cloud of dust flew in her face. Her grip, such that it was, was sweaty with fear. Where the bloody hell was the Doctor? Knowing him he'd probably got distracted by some foliage, hadn't even noticed that she was within inches of –
And then he was there – or at least, someone was. A strong arm came up around her torso, lifting her from the ground, and she blindly felt herself being cut away from the stampeding creature. Her momentum carried her, however, and as soon as she was free she felt herself travelling towards the ground even faster; the Doctor's hands weren't enough to keep her up and, with the terrifying cry of his own Eloo coming down, the three of them landed in an ungracious, loud pile in the middle of the field.
Everything hurt; she didn't dare open her eyes. The important thing was that she was alive enough to feel pain. She was also alive enough to feel spiky grass pressed against her face, and an unbelievable weight on top of her that made it near impossible to breathe.
"…Bother," came a rather muffled, yet irritated, curse from somewhere on top of her. Then there was shifting, movement, another animalistic cry and the sound of more cantering. And then she was being rolled onto her back, free to take a deep breath and practically choke on it as she inhaled.
Her face was covered in dust and, slowly, she moved to wipe it away and open her eyes.
The Doctor's silhouette was blurry at first, only the vaguest mass of colours, but as her eyes got used to the dusk light he swam into full focus, sitting above her while he fumbled in his jacket pocket. His hands stilled when he met her gaze.
"Are you all right?" It was a question he was used to asking, but that still didn't take the guilt out of his eyes. Rose nodded wordlessly, moving her tongue around her mouth for moisture. "Not quite the rescue attempt I was going for. Sorry."
She coughed, attempting to sit up. "S'fine."
Crouching to her side, he worked strong hands behind her arms, supporting her as she sat. "Easy does it, there we go," he mumbled softly, brushing hair and mud out of her face. "Suppose I should have told you never to dismount unless someone else is there, holding the reigns."
She blinked at him a moment, then winced as she ran a hand over her bruised legs. "Coulda mentioned it, yeah," she shot back, but there was no malice in her voice – in all honesty, she was happy not to have been hurt more.
"Can you walk?"
"Dunno. Can barely breathe at the moment."
"Right."
The Doctor sat back a little, his worried expression telling her he was trying to give her space. She almost laughed. Then, as her expression sobered, she looked around the field towards the sound of various whinnies. In the distance, their guide was trying unsuccessfully to wrestle the two Eloo into submission, whilst attempting to stay perfectly balanced on his own.
Rose glanced back towards the familiar hum of the sonic screwdriver, and smiled as the gentle blue light traversed her body. The Doctor's expression, fixed and concentrated, always made her feel safe.
"Hmm. Might have sprained an ankle on top of that bruising, but it doesn't look like there's anything too serious. Nothing broken, at least." He looked up, switching off the device. "You're lucky. There are terrible tales of people thrown from Eloo who never walk again."
She scoffed. "And you thought it would be a good idea to ride them – 'bit of fun', you said."
With one hand at her elbow and the other at her back, the Doctor supported her firmly as she got to her feet. He was right about the ankle; she could barely put any weight on her right one at all. Aside from a few aching muscles and limbs, though, she seemed to be all right.
"I honestly didn't remember them being that difficult," he answered carefully, letting her stand with her own weight. "I mean, children manage it."
Rose shot him a glare. "Yeah, thanks – ugh." Her retort turned into a grunt of pain; as she stepped forward, her ankle buckled painfully and she would have ended up horizontal again if the Doctor hadn't held out a strong arm for her to grab onto.
"There's no way I'm letting you walk back to the ranch in this condition," he said, circling an arm around her and giving her a worried look. "You might do more harm and until I get you to the medical bay, I don't want you walking."
"Then what do you propose? Leave me here for the dogs?"
"You know, technically there aren't dogs on this planet – well, not really, not like the dogs you're used to. Bigger, less friendly. More … rabid, actually. In fact I'd go so far as to say – sorry, am I rambling again?" Rose nodded, her smile wide even as pain shot up through her leg. The Doctor shook his head, tutting. "Tsk, this just won't do. I can't have a wounded companion! You're useless wounded."
"Once again, thanks," Rose replied bitterly, but the Doctor wasn't listening. He was trying to catch the eye of the guide who had, finally, managed to calm the two animals and loop in their reigns with his (or at least, whatever was left of the tattered remains of Rose's).
"Apologies in advance," the Doctor said brusquely, turning back.
"Apologies for – WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
In one deft sweep, the Doctor caught Rose up in his arms, supporting her legs and back while her hands went instinctively around his neck.
"Carrying you, what does it look like?" he deadpanned as he started to take good long strides across the field. His hands tightened around her. "Oof. Blimey Rose, I think it's time to lay off the cream on the cereal."
From where she was, the only part of him she could reach was the back of his head, so she gave it a friendly swat with her hand. In response, the Doctor pretended to drop her and Rose laughed, tightening her grip around him. She tried not to think about how very close her face was to his, being carried in this way – she knew he hadn't meant a thing with his comment, was only trying to diffuse any tension that might have arisen from their closeness. He stared forward, eyes set on the task at hand, and didn't once look her in the eye as he carried her.
She liked this feeling, the feel of him holding her, 'rescuing' her – even as much as she hated to admit it to herself. She couldn't deny there was something wholesome about being treated by the Doctor in this way.
And yet at the same time, there wasn't. He was just helping out a friend in need, the same as he would anyone, and as she leant her head against his shoulder she reminded herself that that was all she was to him: a friend. And if she spent a secret moment memorising the smell of his after-shave (if that's what it even was, you couldn't be sure with the Doctor), then so what? It's not like anyone would ever know – was it?