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In The Windmills Of Her Mind

Chapter Thirteen

And the world is like an apple rolling silently in space, like the circles that you find in the windmills of your mind

Rose gasped heavily as she leant forwards against the window, her ribs felt heavy around her lungs as she heaved for breath and her knees began to cower with memories. The rain threw itself at her but was blocked by the window which protected her, she raised her fingers to the glass clawing as she tried to free herself – her fingers turned white from the effort.

Rose lay on the floor, she could feel her ribs pressing into the floor as she gasped for breath – the bag over her head darkened everything around her and it quickly became damp from tears. She slowly wiggled around on the floor, rolling herself over and over ignoring the cries of pain from her wounds. She kept rolling until she felt a wall on one side, so she began to roll in the other direction. Soon she felt herself roll against a lump; it was warm and felt like a body. Kicking out with her legs she manoeuvred herself into a sitting position and held her bound arms in front of her. Her wrist were tied together in front of her chest and she fumbled around in the darkness to feel the lump in front of her. Her hands traced a suit jacket beneath a coat, her hands slowly raised along a chest and to a neck that was also bagged.

'Doctor?' she choked – her voice was a muffled whisper from beneath the bag that masked her.

'Doctor?' she cried out louder – she felt the body groan in response. His bound hands slowly rose and moved across his body until he felt the gentle fingers that rested on his chest

'Rose?' was the muffled answer she heard. In response she squeezed his hands and he held her fingers tighter once he realised it was her. Rose knew there was nothing they could do right now but wait, so slowly she lowered herself back down to the floor of the van, resting her head against his chest. With their fingers intertwined they lay for hours as they rumbled through the city, other bodies were thrown in with theirs but no matter what happened they didn't let go. They were together – for now.

Rose slid to the floor of the office, her head lying against the floor as her eyes stared vacantly ahead into the night, as her fingers slowly trembled in reaction of what was to come.

Jacob walked slowly over to where she lay, he frowned down at her before taking a seat on the edge of his desk. With his glasses perched on the edge of his nose he watched her intrigued as she slowly remembered himself. As her body twitched violently and her mouth opened to scream out silently, he opened his notebook and began to rapidly take notes whilst humming along to himself.

Rose twitched once more before her mouth closed and her fingers reached out – she needed him.

Rose had fallen asleep lying on the Doctor in their mobile prison, he'd gently stroked her hair for hours as he thought of how to change things – of how to escape. He had to protect her. His thoughts were filled with her face screaming with fear and pain as he thought of his promise to her

'Rose – I won't let anything happen to you, I promise'

He couldn't help but think of how wrong he could be, he had failed her, but right now he didn't know how badly.

Rose awakened from the darkness to find only more darkness, she gasped for air as she remembered the bag over her head. It wasn't until she felt the Doctor's fingers on hers that she began to breath normally, her head was aching and her mind was numb, she closed her eyes again as she began to wait – she didn't have to wait very long.

Soon she felt hands on her ankles dragging her out of the back of the van, she screamed as her fingers fell from him, then she screamed again as she fell from the van onto cobbles. The stones shot pain through her back and she tried to jump up but the hands were too strong for her. They kept a firm grasp on her ankles as they dragged her across the courtyard and towards a house, she winced every time she felt her skin scrape away and she marked the stones with blood. Little did she know that the Doctor was being dragged behind her and each time he felt a smear of her blood on his skin he realised how much he had failed her by.

Jacob looked on as she curled into the foetal position on his office floor, he frowned at this before pulling out a camera. This, he thought, would be very good for my book – very good indeed. If only he knew what she was really going through.

The bags weren't removed until they reached a small room. There, each person was lined up and their bags were removed – each person blinked in reaction to the single lamp that shone over the room, their hands remained tied and they had no choice but to blink into the light. When Rose's bag was removed she instantly glanced around in search for the Doctor – he was next to her, when she saw him a look of relief took over face – a look that was mirrored by him. When she opened her mouth to speak he shook his head at her, frowning as he saw the blood that marked her clothes, then she saw his fists tighten with rage.

There were ten other people in the room, the Doctor and Rose were labelled number eleven and tweleve – they were last in line. There was nothing they could do but look on as the masked figures began to slowly shave away the hair of numbers 1-9, they were removing all identity until each person had nothing left except for their number; until they became their number.

As the razor was raised before Rose's face she gave one last sideways glance to the Doctor as tears began to spill down her face, she looked one last time at the blonde locks which hung over her shoulders and felt her body begin to shake.

The Doctor heard her cry before he kicked his leg out.