Okay folks, this very fluffy chapter is the last official chapter of Rose's Story. There'll be an epilogue after this, but we have officially reached the end! Thanks to everyone who stuck with me to the last :)
When the Doctor woke up, he as alone in Rose Tyler's bed. Her duvet was carefully placed over him, reaching up to his jaw line. He could smell her lingering scent on the fluffy material, and he wondered where she'd gone. She certainly should have slept longer than he would, but evidently she hadn't. He felts his hearts start to speed up. What if she was gone? What if she'd left him? Or what if she'd been pulled back into the parallel world?
With a strangely satisfying crack of his neck, he threw off the comforter, taking in yet another breeze of Rose Tyler's distinctive smell. He stood from the bed, not bothering to make it (he couldn't recall ever seeing Rose's bed made) and he fixed the sleeves of his oxford before slipping back into his suit jacket. He winced at the rumpled look of his trousers – he'd slept in them, after all – but settled with carefully musing his hair and checking his appearance in Rose's vanity before casually sticking his hands in his pockets and quickly leaving the room, desperate to find where she'd gone. His hearts had yet to return to their normal speed and he felt his breathing start to speed up as well.
With a comforting nudge from the TARDIS, he walked to the galley.
Rose was sitting at the table, forearms resting on tabletop, one hand on the other, and her chin on the backs of her hands. She was staring at a mug of tea that was severely lacking in steam, which led the Doctor to believe that it had gone cold while she'd been distracted. Her eyes were glazed over and her jaw set, and the Doctor knew that wherever she was, it certainly wasn't on board the TARDIS. He felt a familiar pang in his hearts at the sight of her. His hearts had, thankfully, slowed back to their normal speed, and his breathing had evened. With a sigh, he untucked one of his hands from his pocket, running it through his hair and then rubbing the back of his neck before walking through the doorway of the galley.
Soundlessly, he sat across from her and put himself in the same position: forearms on the table, hands carefully places one on top of the other, and his chin resting between his knuckles. He watched as her eyes cleared and she finally noticed him, jumping up from her position and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, a faint pink blooming on her cheeks.
"You miss him," the Doctor said quietly, straightening in his seat and keeping his eyes locked on hers.
She was silent for a few moments, taking him in, the sighed. "Yeah," she whispered. "I miss him."
His hearts broke at her admission, and when he saw her face harden, he recognized himself in the motion – hiding the pain, moving on because there's no other choice, always running forwards and never looking back.
He never wanted that for her.
She looked over him again, and he felt slightly nervous under her gaze. Then, to his surprise, she let out a small tsk of laughter and shook her head, the ghost of a smile on her lips. "It's just…I spent a lifetime with him, you know?" she said wistfully, eyes glazing over slightly again. He said nothing. "And I spent several lifetimes in that universe, wanting him, missing him….and you, of course," she smiled at him then, a genuine smile that was nothing like her megawatt signature grin, but a real smile all the same, and he was relieved to see the realness of the smile. "But I just…you became separate people…and now…. It feels so stupid, but god, I'd forgotten how much you look like him." She finished, the hint of a blush back on her cheeks and a shy smile tugging at the corners of her lips again.
"Weeeeelll," he drawled, seeing her smile grow at his signature elongation of the word and letting that simple expression on her face warm his hearts, "technically, he looked like me." He said with a grin.
She smiled back, saying nothing, but this time the Doctor noticed that it didn't quite reach her eyes, and he felt his shoulders slump slightly at the failed attempt to cheer her up. She took a sip from the mug in front of her, grimacing when the cold tea touched her tongue. She rose from her seat, pouring the contents of her mug down the drain before filling the kettle and placing it on the burner of the stove, which she switched on. The Doctor noticed she put enough for more than one cuppa, and he hoped that maybe she was boiling enough water for him as well.
"Rose," he said quietly, meeting her eyes when she turned to face him. He stood as well, moving to stand close to her, only a few inches between them. Cautiously, he took her hand in his, holding it loosely. "I know that you miss him, and that I'm probably no help," he cracked a lopsided smile, "but what will you do now?" The question felt wrong as it rolled off his tongue, as though it were blasphemous that should would do anything other than stay with him.
She regarded him seriously, taking her bottom lip in her teeth and chewing gently. She looked down at their hands and then back up at him, meeting his eyes. He saw his own nervousness reflected in those warm, molten honey eyes. "Well, you know. Back in the original universe. Same old life."
Her words were an echo of another time, a time that, somehow, even with everything that had happened back then, was simpler than the present. "On your own?" He whispered, repeating the question she'd asked him after his regeneration. He stepped closer to her, so close their noses were almost touching, and he felt her relax slightly at his proximity, though her eyes remained nervous and he heard her heart speed up slightly in her chest.
She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a few seconds as she breathed, before she opened them again and hazel locked with brown. "Why? Don't you wanna come?" She whispered back, leaning forward so that the tip of her nose was just barely touched the tip of his. He closed his eyes, breathing in her scent, reveling in her closeness.
He let go of one of her hands to bring his hand up to her face, carefully tracing her jaw with his fingers before cupping it more fully. A shiver went through her body and she leaned into his touch. "Well, yeah," he replied with a small smile. "I just thought…because of him…" he didn't finish his sentence, knowing that she knew full well what he meant.
Rose sucked in a quick breath; her eyes squeezing shut for a moment as she let out a shuddering exhale. She opened her eyes again, taking him in, before she carefully leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.
It was a light kiss, nothing like the frenzied, demanding snog that Cassandra had given him while using Rose's body, nor like the desperate, loving kiss that Rose and the Metacrisis had shared on the beach at Bad Wolf Bay. This kiss was hesitant, her lips lightly touching his and giving him a small taste of Rose Tyler.
To Rose's pleasure (and relief), kissing the Doctor did not feel like kissing John. The Doctor felt different against her lips, and his taste was different from John's.
The kettle started to hiss, catching them both off guard. They jumped, quickly disentangling themselves. Rose reached over to turn off the burner and picked up the kettle with a slightly shaky hand, pouring it into the same mug she'd used before grabbing a tea pouch and putting in the scalding water, letting it soak for a few seconds before adding some milk. "Tea?" She asked him.
"Ta," he replied from his seat, which he'd sat in again. He watched her as she reached for another mug and carefully poured the water in, putting in the sugar first and allowing it to dissolve before she added the tea bag, which made him grin because after all their years apart she still knew how fussy he was about his tea. She grabbed both mugs and put his down in front of him before sitting back down in her original seat as well, her own mug between her hands.
He took a sip of his tea and promptly choked, coughing as the boiling hot water scalded his mouth and throat. He caught a knowing glint in her eye, amusement rolling off her in waves, and he felt the tips of his ears start to turn red. "Did he…?" The Doctor started to ask, looking pointedly at his tea.
"Oh, every time." Rose replied with a smirk, which she hid behind her own mug as she took a sip of her not-quite-as-hot tea, which had been cooled slightly by the milk. The Doctor pouted slightly, frowning into his tea as though to inquire why it had burned him. Rose felt a wave of nostalgia come over her as she smiled at the man who'd shared a face with her husband.
The Doctor's head snapped up immediately, meeting her gaze squarely, his expressive eyebrows pulled down into a frown. She raised her own eyebrows, wondering what the problem was, before she sheepishly realized that since she'd been in the TARDIS, she hadn't had her mental shields up, and the Doctor was probably wondering how and when she'd become telepathic.
There were quite a few questions she expected him to have, actually, even with her showing him what had happened in the parallel universe. They sat in silence, each drinking their own tea, for several minutes, simply enjoying each other's presence while lost in their own thoughts. Rose took another sip of her tea, wondering, shields still down, why he hadn't asked her any of the questions that were obviously at the forefront of his mind.
"I didn't want to overwhelm you," he replied, still frowning as he observed her. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "I thought you might want to settle in before…" he trailed off, giving her a sheepish look.
"Before you poked and prodded at me," she finished for with a dramatic sigh, though the Doctor could see amusement on her face. He said nothing, but she took the final gulp of her tea and stood, extending her hand. The Doctor finished off his tea as well and rose from his seat, taking her hand unquestioningly and giving it a quick squeeze. She smiled at him. "To the sick bay, then?"
"To the sick bay," he repeated with a smile, letting her lead the way.
Rose said nothing as the Doctor proceeded to do his poking, prodding, and scanning, sitting still on the medical bed, lost in her own thoughts. She'd done as many tests on herself as she could while in the parallel world, using the resources at Torchwood for the best chance at getting an answer. When she'd seen the strange energy in her mind, sparking at the synapses and glowing gold, she'd immediately associated the energy with the Time Vortex and the Bad Wolf. But she knew the Doctor, and she knew full well that he would do his own tests, regardless of what she said.
"I don't know how you aren't burning," the Doctor whispered, clutching her hand desperately as he looked at the screen. It had come to quite a shock to him that she wasn't dying, not even close, due to the vortex energy that remained in her system.
"Bad Wolf," she replied easily, though she didn't miss the way the Doctor's body tensed up at her call-card. "I protected myself from the energy, but it was still there. I'm constantly being exposed to it." She said with a shrug.
"You knew?" The Doctor gasped, pulling off his specs and looking at her with wide eyes and a frown.
"'Course," she replied, raising a single eyebrow. "You didn't think I wouldn't run my own tests?"
"How could you not tell me?" The Doctor demanded, cupping her face and leaning in to press their foreheads together. Through his shields, Rose could still feel his nervousness spilling through, and his hearts were beating erratically in his chest.
With a sigh, she wrapped her fingers around one of his wrists, closing her eyes. "I'm sorry."
They stayed like that until the Doctor managed to get his hearts under control, which was only a few minutes. He took comfort in the fact that she was there, she was alive, and she was back with him, where she should be. Where she would be for a long time, if his test results were right. He couldn't see her dying in the near future.
He felt a nudge of apology telepathically make its way to his mind, and once again he was struck with the reality of Rose being telepathic. If she was exposed to the vortex, he reasoned, it made sense that over time she would gain some telepathic abilities, but it still felt strange to him. Curiously, he lowered his shields, allowing more contact between the two of them, and he felt Rose gasp with the sudden openness of his mind. He moaned slightly as he presence started to fill it, tentatively, as though she wasn't sure she would be welcome. Her shimmering presence filled every nook and cranny of his lonely mind and oh, that felt good.
He mentally surged forward himself, allowing himself to nudge Rose's mind with his own telepathic abilities. She welcomed him fully, and oh, it felt really, reeaaalllly good in her mind. Warm, welcoming, and sweet, just as he'd always seen his Rose. He explored her mind, carefully staying away from the shut door. He knew what he would find there – her treasured memories with the Metacrisis.
John, she corrected his thoughts with a harsh one of her own. His name was John, not the Metacrisis. He let apology seep through his thoughts, hearing her sigh, all harshness gone from her mind in an instant.
Suddenly craving physical contact, the Doctor tentatively climbed on the medical bed on which Rose was still siting, gathering her in his arms and laying back gently against the backrest of the seat. She sighed again and leaned against him fully. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, never once severing the mental connection.
How long are you going to stay with me? She thought to him, and he felt amusement at her question, even though it had been a serious one, because that was his line.
He nestled her against him more tightly, his cheek on her hair and their arms wrapped around each other. Forever, he promised her gently and surely, knowing full well that forever no longer meant only a human's lifetime – it meant forever.
She leaned forward again, less tentative this time, and pressed her lips to his again. A small rumble in his throat urged her on, and he thought he felt her smile into the kiss. The lightness of the last kiss was gone in an instead. The Doctor pleadingly ran his tongue along Rose's bottom lip, and she immediately opened for him, allowing him to really taste her. Her tongue gently pressed against his, then ran along the roof of his mouth, and oh, it felt so right to be kissing Rose Tyler. He felt her deep pleasure reverberate in her mind, resonating so loudly that her pleasure became his and when she moaned into his mouth, he thought he saw stars behind his eyes.
He rolled himself so that he was on top of her, pressing against her and taking the kiss deeper. Supernovas exploded in his mind when she experimentally grinded against him, and he growled into the kiss, pressing himself against her. Using a single free hand, his let his finger graze the small bit of accessible skin between her shirt and her trousers, feeling her gasp and buck against him. He tore his lips from hers and lightly kissed along her jaw, making his way down her neck, alternating between kissing, biting, and sucking to give her as much pleasure as he could.
"Doctor," She gasped, and he took pleasure in her breathlessness. He sent a telepathic nudge of curiosity up to her. "Maybe," she interrupted herself with a moan when he found a particular spot on her collarbone, which he noted and filed away for later, "maybe we should do this somewhere other than the sick bay?" she suggested breathlessly.
He pulled away from her immediately, grinning when she groaned at the loss of contact. "Quite right, Rose." He acknowledged. He moved off the sick bed and extended his hand. She sat up, straightening her hair slightly, and took his hand before jumping off the seat, offering him a wide, tongue-touched grin and he suddenly felt the need to capture that mischievous tongue with his mouth.
She wrapped her arms around his and wound their fingers together. "Lead the way,"