Thanks to TheBigCat for doing the amazing job of being my Beta.
Thanks to all of you who have left reviews please keep on doing it. It truly is like Christmas,Easter,Thanksgiving,and 4th of July every time I get one. They help me take my mind of things. Just found out my brother may need a liver Transplant, and when I got that news it hurt but then I opened my inbox and there were reviews it helped make my day a bit better so thank you.
To those of you that have followed or favorited my story this week thank you they mean as much as the reviews do.
To those of you that are reading my story and have not done any of the following I still thank you. thank all of you for taking time from your life's to read my story out of the thousands of choices you have. It means the world to me.
The next 4 chapters are written they are with the super cool Beta at the moment. we have some great moments coming up I promise guys Rose is coming back. and keep your eyes out in chapter 25 Jack makes his first showing in my story. so I know that will make some of you very happy.
Allons-y
Rose's scream had him rushing out of the library immediately, the book he had been reading thrown in the air. He was at her door even before the screaming had stopped.
He had a decision to make. He could walk away and leave her be, or he could take a chance and step into the room- uninvited- to offer her comfort. Really, there was no dilemma. No more running for either of them- at least, not from this. He steadied himself mentally and opened the door.
He scanned the room, looking for Rose. She wasn't in the bed, not on the floor, not on the chair…
His gaze fell to the open closet door. He could hear crying and gasping breaths coming from within.
He approached slowly, giving her time to feel his presence in the room. He kneeled down slowly in order to get a better view of her face, but could not see it. His breath caught in his throat. Rose had her head buried in his old black jacket, and she was sobbing with an occasional whimper.
He could make out some words but most were muffled.
"Don't- can't!- leave- promised!"
And just one word was clear. She kept repeating it over and over. "Doctor."
He reached out and nudged the jacket, trying to get her attention, afraid that if he spoke his voice would break. She needed him to be strong. Rose was still half asleep. But the motion made her sob harder. She clasped the jacket even tighter, her knuckles going white from the pressure she was exerting.
The Doctor decided not to touch it again. Instead, he opened the second door and moved inside, sitting on several pair of shoes. It was rather uncomfortable but he could deal with it. For her, he would deal with anything.
He reached over and gently gathered Rose in his arms, jacket and all. slowly rocking her, rubbing her back, occasionally stroking her hair, all the while whispering words of warmth in her ear. Trying his best to calm and reassure Rose, even though he didn't know what the dreams were about.
Her sobs eased and her grip on the jacket lessened, but did not release. He now knew why that jacket had been on her bed the other morning. It was chasing away the bad dreams. It was her safety net, her light in the dark- a suit of armour, keeping the monsters at bay.
He knew what had happened. Rose must have fallen asleep and forgotten to remove it from its hiding space. Without its familiar presence, it had triggered a response.
He knew the feeling well. He'd been carrying a shirt of hers in his pocket, all those years since Canary Wharf. He had often found himself running his fingers across that shirt softly when in deep thought. It brought indescribable amounts of comfort. Not that he was going to tell her that.
He felt Rose shudder one more time, before falling still, her head against his neck instead of buried in the jacket. Her hands had come around his back and were clinging tightly; her small palms buried in his shirt. His old leather Jacket was now lying between them.
Rose shivered and he reached down and pulled it over her shoulders to give her the warmth and comfort she needed. They both dared not move beyond that. The Doctor was enjoying the embrace of her arms and the feel of her in his lap. The smell of her hair- mint and a hint of rosemary. The heartbeat, rapidly calming against his chest. To put it simply, he was enjoying Rose just as she was, pure and simple.
The way it had come about he may not have appreciated. Nightmares were nasty things. But the end result was very enjoyable. He could have sat like this for days, weeks- months, even and still not have had enough. With her in his arms it was like coming home.
Rose, on the other hand, was just enjoying the comfort of having someone there to hold her as she came out of her dreams. She did not care that she was on his lap or in his arms. She just clung tightly to the man who was caring for her. He had placed his old leather jacket over her to keep warm. And he had made no comment on her having it in her room.
Rose felt him gently pull back, but not far. He seemed as reluctant as she was to move from their current state. He lifted her head to meet his gaze, his fingers softly and tenderly pressing her chin.
Rose searched his russet brown eyes for signs of anger, rejection or pity. But she found none lurking in the depths. Instead she saw concern, sorrow- both hers and his- and most importantly, she found acceptance and understanding.
He spoke gruffly, breaking the spell that had woven over them. "Would you like a cup of tea? It should help you fall back to sleep."
She nodded her head, too exhausted to talk. He rose with her still in his arms and set her down on the bed and shook his feet to get the blood flowing again. He left in a whirl of energy of activity, only to return two ticks later with steaming mugs, one of which he handed to her, before sitting timidly on the end of her bed, feet swinging as he stared at her.
"Want to tell me about them, Rose? It helps."
She sighed. "They're about Canary wharf," she said quietly. "The beach in Norway... my mom hitting me...you sending me away! Sometimes the Daleks make an appearance, or the Cybermen and the Devil. But it all ends the same, every time. Me alone in the dark. And you nowhere to be found." Her voice broke just a bit at the end.
He reached out and took her hand. What could he say to her? He had left Rose- let her down- oh-so-many times. He could make her no promises. She was not ready to believe them anyway. He had to prove his actions. Words were not enough anymore.
She was not that nineteen year old girl anymore, but a woman that had been hurt too many times by him and the world. He was earning her friendship back one day at a time. So he just sat there and held her hand, giving her what comfort he could. She eventually finished her tea and released his hand.
"I think I can go back to sleep now."
He got up to leave, wishing her a good night, but before his feet reached the door. Rose shocked him again. "Doctor? Can you stay? Just until I fall asleep, I mean."
He did not make a sound. Felt his back tense up a bit, but forced himself to relax. He turned and offered her a small smile.
"Yup," he said, popping the 'P' just a bit. "No problem."
He walked across the room, sitting in the chair and Rose turned to face him in her bed. The jacket was back, draped around her shoulders. Their eyes held for a few fractions of a second, before she closed hers and took a deep breath.
"Talk, Doctor," she said. "Please. Just talk about anything."
So he did. He started with his adventures with Martha- Shakespeare and the Globe Theatre. She was asleep before they even got to the madhouse.
He stayed with her the whole night, wishing he were the jacket, giving her warmth.
He was jealous of an article of clothing. That probably said something about him, but he wasn't sure what.
He slipped out right before she begun to stir for the day, knowing Rose would not appreciate him seeing her right when she woke after such a vulnerable night.
Rose woke slowly. Dreams of Shakespeare had graced her for the rest of the night. He had stayed the night with her. The chair was still warm to the touch. He had left moments before she had fully awaken. Rose had heard the door shut softly behind him.
She wondered if he would hide from her today. That had been his pattern in the past when feelings had run on high, and the last twenty-four hours had been full of them. The almost kiss, the crying on his lap again, asking him to stay with her.
She expected him to run and to just drop her off somewhere, and he would vanish leaving her alone again. The thought made her heart skip a beat, and she cursed herself. She would not go down that path again.
Will not, will not, will not. She kept repeating her mantra as she readied herself for the day, first checking her knee. No more bruises; they had healed up and gone. But there was a bit of swelling and stiffness. So jeans were right out. She grabbed a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt. No running for her today. Which meant another memory. If he wasn't avoiding her, that was.
She glanced at the Jacket on her bed and shrugged it on over her shirt. The Doctor had already seen it and had made no judgements, so what did it hurt to wear it around the TARDIS. It offered her protection, another layer, and if he did show her a memory today, she might need the help the jacket gave her.
Rose stepped out of her room and limped her way down the hall, ready to see what the day would bring her. A hiding Time Lord, or another memory. She really hoped it would be the latter.
