Thanks to TheBigCat who is a great Beta thank you all who have reviewed my story and favorited it please leave a review i will respond I really like to know if you guys are enjoying my take of these great people. so please let me know. and just for you guys i am posting this chapter a little bit ahead of what I planed. and chapter 7 is already written. well anyway on with the story Allons-y
Rose came to on a bed in the infirmary. She had passed out again after seeing him. How embarrassing to show what kind of woman she had become in the last couple of years, she thought. Despite being broke- hearted and nightmare-ravaged in the midnight hours, she was a strong woman during the day- a commander, in charge of her emotions, a hardened solder. To pass out was unthinkable. How would she play this off?
He deserved a whack, she decided. Hearing a sound, she turned, and, acting on impulse, raised her balled hand and punched him right in the nose. She kept punching him- the side of his jaw, his eye, anywhere she could reach. She was going to make him feel her anger at him. She still had no idea how she had gotten on the TARDIS or why she was there, but it really didn't matter at the moment. Her fist connected with the flesh that had hurt her so many times.
It felt so. Damn. Good.
Well, it did until she hit a particularly hard spot on his jawline and winced in pain as one of her knuckles broke. Pulling back her hand to examine it, she felt a bit of shame. Her knuckles were bruised and bloody and the top of her index finger was swelling already.
She then looked up to the face her hand had left just a moment before. The Doctor's right eye was already black and his nose bloody. He had bruises starting to form on his face from where her fist had connected, but she felt no guilt for what she had done to him. The only thing she was feeling bad for was the fact she could not continue because of her knuckle.
The Doctor was still in a state of shock when she stopped hitting him. His face hurt- he had been stunned when her fist had connected to his nose and then continued to pummel him. He deserved it so he did not stop her and let her beat him black and blue.
Rose was examining her hand now, she had definitely broken something. He had felt the crack when her last punch had hit his jaw. He looked up when she raised her eyes to examine what she had done. He thought he would see remorse on her face, but all he saw was raw rage still simmering in her eyes. It made them appear darker. It scared him for a moment, but only for a second.
"Quite right, too," he muttered, with a lack of anything else to say.
Rose hated those three words more than any other. Those words were the death of her- words that she relived every night in dreams. She was off the bed and in his face before he could blink.
"Don't you ever," she raged. "and I mean ever- say those words to me again. Do you hear me, Doctor?"
He heard her all right- she was yelling right in his bruised and bloody face. He started to acknowledge that yes, he had indeed heard her, when she spoke again.
"If I ever hear those words coming from your mouth again it will be the last thing you ever say. You got that, Time Lord?"
He nodded his head quickly. And swallowed. She was terrifying when she was mad. And she spoke now with such authority that he had no choice but agree with her. He opened his mouth and closed in again. "Hello," he finally offered.
She said nothing, just sat stiffly back on the bed. He grimaced then walked towards her slowly. "Let me take care of this hand for you."
She jerked out of his grasp. "It's fine. It'll heal soon enough."
Another war wound to add to her collection on the outside. He stepped back and set on another bed.
"Why am I here?" she asked him bluntly, scowling at the wall, not meeting his eyes.
"It's complicated," he heard himself answer.
"Well, uncomplicate it," Rose said with a huff.
"Wish I could," he replied.
"You're telling me, Time Lord, that you can't answer the question of how I came to be in the TARDIS with you?"
The Doctor was considering how to explain this all to her and grimacing every time she called him Time Lord. The way she said it with such disdain and anger made him feel guilt like nothing else. She asked another question that jarred his train of thought.
"Are we in my world or yours?"
"They're both your worlds, Rose," said his quick gob. "That is to say, this is your original world, not Pete's World."
"No, Time Lord," snapped Rose shortly. "Pete's World is my world now. You made sure of that when you left me on a beach."
He just sat there. This was not the Rose he had left. His other self had been right- Rose was gone. She had been replaced by this angry women sitting across from him- a women who had seen and done so much and been abandoned one too many times. The guilt was beginning to eat at him again. He had done this. He had made this person. He wondered if any of the old Rose was left inside her.
He wondered if it was ever possible to bring her back.
