Disclaimer: Of course I don't own anything in the Who or Torchwood universe - I only wish I did. Nothing belongs to me, everything belongs to the creators. I just like to play around in the universe. :)
A very special thank you to Liv16 for being the greatest beta I could ever have hoped to meet and work with, who is a constant source of help, suggestion, and inspiration, and without whom I would be lost. Also, many sincere thanks to The Plaid Slytherin and TV-a-holic, who helped me to make the most of my first DW fan fiction story.
Author's Note: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy. Reviews very welcome!
…
France, I am burn'd up with inflaming wrath;
A rage whose heat hath this condition,
That nothing can allay, nothing but blood,
The blood, and dearest-valued blood, of France.
King John (3.1.349-52), King John
...
The afternoon seemed to be going a little smoother than the early morning had gone. Instead of the shock of effectuating what had happened, Rose simply woke up and knew and felt all the more gutted for it. She finally rolled over and kicked at those hot blankets once more. They felt heavier than they had before, and looking closely, Rose figured out why. There was another that had been added! My God, didn't the Doctor realize it was too warm in here to need that many? She couldn't help but wonder if Time Lords were cold-blooded aliens.
She sat up, holding her head as it pounded, feeling heavy like she'd walked through fog and everything was still hazy and unclear. Like when she had that horrible sinus infection after the Doctor had taken her to the Land of the Tree Stones, and the stones had actually been these flower-like bulbs that sprayed alien pollen out whenever you bent down to smell their glorious aromas.
Rose remembered those horrid little plants well. Her face had swollen up too twice it's size and she'd wheezed for weeks afterwards! The worst part about the whole ordeal though, was the massive-sized headache she'd felt for days. The pain was unlike any migraine she'd ever experienced before and Rose had barely been able to sit up without feeling ill from the intensity of the pounding, much less lie down, which seemed to cause the suffering she felt to get worse. The Doctor hadn't even been able to give her anything to ease her suffering the entire week she was down out of fear that it would react with the allergy, somehow making it worse. It had been a cruel week, and the only comfort that came out of the entire episode was the knowledge that during the Doctor had never once left her side during the duration of her illness. He'd sat by her and read aloud to her and held her hands through the worst of it.
This afternoon, however, her current headache reminded her of that horrible trip, and the awful few days that followed. The difference being that she knew she wouldn't be better in a few short days.
She wasn't sure if she'd ever be alright again.
Yesterday, Rose had lost two of the three most important people in her life, and it would never be the same again. Sniffling slightly, Rose turned to climb out of bed.
The Doctor hadn't left, as promised, although he wasn't in bed with her anymore. She'd rolled over once in her sleep reaching out for him, and had found the spot where he'd laid empty and cold. She tried not to think much of it, as she knew he didn't really sleep, but the feeling of waking up alone was not something she had mentally prepared herself for, and it left her feeling hollow and sad.
All the same, Rose considered, his willingness to lay with her as she drifted off - the feeling of being safe in his arms as he held her tenderly, cuddling her cold limbs against the warmth of his body - had allowed her to feel safe and loved, even if it wasn't meant to last more than just a little while.
He hadn't gone far, though, as he was sitting in the same chair as earlier, flipping through another book with his legs propped up against the base of the bed. He had those glasses on, the ones that made her blush when she thought of how handsome he was when he wore them, and she watched, enthralled, as every few minutes, he'd push them up the bridge of his nose - only to have them slide down again a few minutes later.
Peering at the book in his hands, she squinted to try and read the cover. Circles upon circles - it obviously was written in Gallifreyan. Shrugging to herself, she didn't even bother looking any further. The TARDIS couldn't be bothered to translate Gallifreyan, Rose had long since figured out. It really was unfair to the companions who traveled with the Doctor, if one took the time to think about it. Not only unfair, but slightly impractical. Rose would never be able to help pilot the TARDIS in case of emergency, as all of the controls were labeled in Gallifreyan. She would never be able to read most of the books in the library, not that she normally spent much time in libraries. She would never be able to read the Doctor's handwriting, when he scribbled notes to himself and left them all over for himself. She still couldn't figure out if they were reminders of things to do, or grocery lists, or simply things he randomly thought up and wrote down so as not to forget. She hadn't asked him about the notes, as she wasn't sure if they would be a sore spot with him or not, and her curiosity hadn't gotten the best of her yet, thanks goodness. Rose could barely recall things she wanted to remember from the previous week, let alone from lifetimes ago, and she couldn't imagine trying to recall things from almost a thousand years ago. That thought alone was mind-boggling.
Rose couldn't help but wonder what kind of book he was currently reading. Wondered if he was the type for biography or romance, mystery or something simply educational. For all she knew, he could be looking up recipes in a cookbook. The thought alone amused her as he had to practically be dragged into the Galley to so much as eat, let alone cook something.
He was obviously absorbed in whatever he was reading as he still hadn't responded to her waking up. Tilting her head to the side, she studied him for a moment, rare as it was to watch him being still, trying to imagine what kind of story would captivate the Doctor's attention. After 900 years, one would think he'd read all there was to read, and find most things boring as he'd already experienced them all.
Suddenly, Rose felt a swell of guilt rise inside of her, suffocating her. As she grasped her chest in horror, the feeling was suddenly gone, as if it had never been there. How very strange. Looking towards the Doctor in confusion, she found that he had finally turned his attention towards her.
"Rose?" He asked, his voice soft and slightly hoarse.
"That was odd," Rose replied.
"What was odd?" He closed his book and set it gently to the side.
"I just felt..." Rose scratched her ear. "It was..."
"What did you feel? You felt something?" He looked concerned.
It was too weird. Perhaps she was just experiencing a moment of crazy - perhaps the Doctor was finally rubbing off on her.
"I just had a moment, where I felt..." Rose trailed off, "...it felt horrible - like I was guilty for somethin' and then it was suddenly gone...like it wasn't me... but I wasn't feeling guilty - I was only tryin' to figure out what kind of book you were..."
The Doctor waited, frowning.
Brushing it off as just one of those things, Rose shook her head as if to clear it. "Don't worry about it, it was probably nothin'." Her voice trailed off.
He was obviously intrigued, but he didn't press her on it, for which she felt thankful.
Rose let her feet drop to the floor and stiffly stood up. She padded to the bathroom to relieve herself and to wash, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she passed it. Eyes widening and mouth dropping open, she gasped as she stared at her reflection. Her eyes were red and swollen, bloodshot even, and she looked as if she'd aged 40 years in one day. The lines around her eyes from worry and guilt now seemed permanently etched upon her face. Her cheeks were red and chapped, no doubt from the tears that had refused to stop. Her nose was blocked and puffy, and she was sure she was coming down with some kind of cold, because she was constantly having to sniff to keep her nose from running.
Her hair was matted and oily, like she hadn't showered in ages, even though she'd washed it thoroughly just last night. Her skin was pale with a slightly green tint to it, like she always looked right after having a horrible bout of the flu. The worst thing Rose noticed, however, was not the physical imperfections the mirror reflected, but rather the expression she wore on her face.
She'd seen that face on hundreds of other people. The face that had seen too much, had experienced too much, and had gone through too much. The face of someone who was much older now, much more mature than their years proved. A worldly face, in the most heartbreakingly way.
Rose quickly grabbed a washcloth out of the cabinet and turned the faucet on. Wetting the cloth in cold water, Rose wrung it out quickly, before opening it and draping it over her face. She just held it to her cheeks for a moment, trying to absorb some of the cool to help with the swelling. It didn't help much, rather, worked the other way around. The washcloth warmed too quickly, and Rose had to repeat the process a good few times in order for it to begin to feel effective.
Grabbing her hairbrush, she roughly pulled it through her hair, untangling some of the worst knots and putting order to some of chaos. Taking a deep breath, she looked at herself again. Her complexion was less pale now, a bit red from the scrubbing, and her eyes didn't look quite as swollen, although they were far from normal. Her hair was now out of her eyes and she felt at least presentable.
She lingered for a few more moments, staring at herself and yet, at nothing, before returning to the room. The Doctor still wasn't overly talkative, seeming fine with simply watching her from the other side of the room, careful and studious. She wasn't sure if he was waiting for her to speak, and hoping not, because she didn't have a clue as what to say next. She couldn't imagine what he found so fascinating about her, that he would look at her in such a way. As if she was a problem that he was trying to solve.
Feeling completely drained, Rose walked back towards the bed, her hands fidgeting slightly with the bottom of her shirt, pulling and tugging it down across her stomach, as she turned towards the Doctor. He stood up and met her, giving her a careful once over as he pulled her into a casual hug. With that, it was as if any energy she'd held seeped out and she weakly leaned into him to enjoy the circular caresses he began making on her back as he tightened his hold on her. He had such an amazing warmth about him, and Rose loved leaning into him and feeling the thrumming of his hearts.
"How are you holding up?" He asked softly into her hair.
Rose shook her head slightly, still not feeling up to much conversation.
"Are you hungry?
Another shake.
"I think you should at least drink something. How about some tea?"
Tea sounded alright. Warm and light. She could probably handle that. Nodding imperceptibly against his shoulder, she quietly agreed. Reaching down for her hand and grabbing it, he lead her to the kitchen, sat her down at the table and started filling the kettle with water at the sink. She pushed aside the scattered pile of books he had left on the table during one of his late night snack and story-times, to clear a spot to rest her elbows.
"I was thinking we'd just take a couple of days to rest, Rose," he began, looking over his shoulder at her as he spoke. "We've been so busy with everything lately, I think it'll do us both some good, to just sit still for a wee bit and take it easy." He put the kettle on the stove and flipped the switch before turning to face her, crossing his legs as he leaned against counter. She listened, fighting the frown that crossed her expression as she wondered who this person was sitting across from her. Her Doctor would never admit to being overly busy and needing a few days of rest. The thought would never even cross his mind.
"The TARDIS needs a few repairs that I've been neglecting because we've been moving around so much lately. And now, with everything..." the Doctor paused, letting the sentence drift off, and then, carefully focusing on Rose, he said regretfully, "there will be some things that we'll need to get sorted out. Your Mum's apartment, the funerals..."
Ah, that was what this was all about. Rose stilled and closed her eyes. She hadn't even thought...she hadn't even begun to think about...
"But we don't have to worry about them today, Rose," he quickly tried to reassure her. "In fact, you can take as long as you need to - time machine and all..." he bowed his head, looking away from her for a moment before continuing, "...so don't you worry about a thing today. We'll stay for as long as we need to." He sounded so sure, more sure than he looked, that is. He was plainly struggling with staying put, clearly looked slightly nauseous about it, but was trying to make things easier for her, nonetheless - trying to give her the time she needed.
She was grateful about that. It seemed the slightest little thing was overwhelming and she wasn't sure how well she'd deal if something happened or changed in the near future.
The kettle started whistling and the Doctor whirled around to remove it from the stove. Pouring each of them a mug, he then brought them over to the table - scraping the chair on the floor as he pulled it from under the table with his foot. He sat down beside her as she wrapped her chilled hands around the hot mug. Seeing the mug in the Doctor's hands made her eyes well up - that awful emptiness in her chest trying to consume her once again.
Rose loved the Doctor's mug. Mickey had picked it up at one of those shops that carried just about every little thing one would never actually need. He was always dragging her into those kinds of shops, exclaiming over the smallest trinket. Although she had found them amusing, and enjoyed sharing in the fun with Mickey, she never actually bought anything. What little money she ever had was usually spent on things her and Mum needed, like paying the mortgage or the electric bill.
She and Mickey had come across this mug, though, and they'd laughed and laughed over it. The mug was plain white, tall enough that it was actually purposeful, and across the side, were the words, "Trust me, I'm a doctor."
Rose remembered Mickey presenting their find proudly to the Doctor, and she smiled slightly at the memory of his reaction. Pleased didn't even describe it - he was simply joyous over it - pulling both Mickey and herself into a huge group hug before leaping around the TARDIS console, taking them into flight. He used it every day, he loved it so much. She'd never seen it and thought much of Mickey, though. But this afternoon, she couldn't tear her thoughts away from her childhood friend. Her smile faded.
She stared into her cup for a few minutes, watching the tea ripple as her hands shook. It still felt hot, and she knew she should wait until it cooled a bit more before drinking it. The Doctor was already gulping at his. She was still amazed that the burning hot liquid never seemed to bother him. Pulling the mug to her lips, she finally took a slow sip. It was still too hot, but in a way, it felt good. Tasted fair enough, even if it wasn't her mum's tea.
Rose swallowed a lump in her throat as she tried hard to not think about the fact that she'd never again taste her mum's tea. Sure, she could make it pretty similarly, but there was something about the fact that mum made it, that made it better than any tea she could ever make herself. Setting her mug down, she stirred it absently with her spoon, half-ignoring the Doctor, half-avoiding him and the conversation he was very patiently waiting to have with her. She could tell he wanted to talk with her, as it was blatantly strewn across his handsome features, which was unusual in itself because most of the time, he was very difficult to read. Nevertheless, as he hadn't come right out and said anything to her, she let the conversation wait.
Reaching across the table to the small pile of books that the Doctor kept at the edge of the table for late night reading, she grabbed a distinctive old-looking one from the middle of the pile, somewhat carelessly knocking over the few she'd previously stacked when pushing them aside. The Doctor leaned over after her and stacked them back up, handling the books with more care than she had used.
Of course, they all looked "old" to Rose, but there was something in particular about this one - the binding was secure, and yet looked so frail, Rose was afraid it might wilt at the slightest touch. It reminded Rose of one of those old, worn, and dusty books off a high shelf in a library - the kind of book that is shelved more for "atmosphere" than for actual reading. The kind of book that usually put people off in search of something brighter and newer looking.
But Rose was strangely captivated by it. Skimming the binding lightly with her finger, she felt a warm sensation tingle through her hand - up her arm, into her mind. Her eyes widened in shock as she glanced back and forth quickly between the ancient book and her hand, wondering what had just happened. Rose carefully laid the scarlet book on the table, dropping her arms to her lap as she peered curiously at the cover once more. It wasn't titled.
"What's wrong?" The Doctor asked.
"The book just shock'd me." Rose replied, frowning.
"The book shocked you?" The Doctor repeated.
"Yeah, it shock'd me." Rose responded, trying to to feel offended by his slightly condescending tone.
He leaned back in his chair. "Hmm. Well, it must've been that you and the book are not good electrical conductors.
A long moment passed between the two of them before Rose gave him a timid smile. "Go on then, Doctor. Explain."
He grinned and leaned forward, now at comfort in "lecture mode". "You see, when you touched, it caused electrons from the book to exchange or share with your own."
Rose looked at him blankly. "What?"
"Static Electricity." He answered, with a slight grin.
"Static Electricity." Rose repeated. "You couldn't have just said static electricity?"
"I did say static electricity!" The Doctor looked indignant. "It's exactly what I said."
"No," Rose said patiently, "what you said was a very complicated explanation of somethin' very simple. We've talked about this, Doctor."
"But it's not a simple thing, static electricity. It's very complicated and fascinating." He started pulling bits and pieces out of his jacket pocket and began fiddling with two circular discs of metal, scanning them or whatever he was doing with them with his sonic screwdriver.
Rose resisted the urge to roll her eyes as her eyes fell to the book in front of her once more. She looked at it dubiously. It hadn't felt like static electricity. It'd felt like...well, like the book was alive. As if it were a vibrating, living organism.
But that was ridiculous. Books weren't alive. It just didn't make any sense.
Slowly, Rose reached out to touch the book again. Caressing the cover, nothing happened this time and she shrugged off the weirdness once again. Strange things were happening a bit too often for Rose's liking, and it made her feel decidedly out of sorts.
"Did you get shocked again?" The Doctor asked, while he mopped up some tea that had spilled when he'd accidentally knocked his mug with his elbow, trying to find the right angle to sonic the two metal discs together. Throwing the rag behind him into the sink, he pushed the pile of books closer to Rose in attempts to protect them in case of further and more serious table accidents.
"No." Rose said, still stroking the book. Rose lifted the cover gently to explore some of it's contents. Of course it would be in Gallifreyan. Sighing, she flipped through it slowly, being careful not to rip or tear any of the fragile pages. It was a shame she couldn't understand what the book held, as it was artistically one of the most beautiful things she'd ever come across.
Although the pages were thin and delicate, like that of a very worn Bible, they were more opaque than parchment or paper. The swirls and circles looked like they had been etched in gold with a very fine paintbrush, and the delineations seemed to glow a slight red, almost seeming to come out of the page as Rose studied them. The drawings weren't like anything she could place though - they seemed more like inkblots than actual representations of anything, only, the more she concentrated it was almost as if they...
"It's a sacred book." The Doctor interrupted. "More like a historical document, really. It's been around since the beginning - antediluvian even by the time I was loomed. It's one of Gallifrey's most enshrined collections."
"Collections of what?" Rose asked, interested despite of how she felt.
"Well," the Doctor scratched his head, looking a little sheepish to have been caught reading such a story, "It's more like a fairy tale, really. Or how you would view a fairy tale."
"What, like Red Riding Hood? Snow White? That kind of thing?"
"Pretty much." The Doctor nodded. "Only, Gallifreyan legend claims that these stories were stories of truth. That the content within these books foretold of the most primordial of our species. Time Goddesses, of a sort, that could control and ameliorate,"
"Ameliorate?" Rose interrupted.
"They could heal." The Doctor explained, whispering almost reverently. "Story tells it that they were unique to the beginning of our species."
"How so?"
"Time Lords back then interfered with time and space, universally. And all of those decisions to interfere, and how to interfere, were based on emotion. Couldn't be helped. Everything was in chaos and no one was able to focus enough separating logic from their feelings in order to control the power of the Time Vortex. Unlike the human race, where decisions are loosely based on feeling and morality for the greater good, the Time Lords weren't able to see right from wrong. There was no concept of conscience. They could only see right or left, persay. Life and death decisions - well, even more than that, existence of planets, of entire species, and dimensions within those, were based on a whim of the individual, which put everything in existence at the fate of how that individual felt at that moment in time. The universe was at risk, and it was a very, very dangerous time."
"But I thought your race didn't make decision based on emotions." Rose pointed out. "I thought you had overcome that pesky human quality." She had tried to joke, but it fell flat. She felt so tired.
"Like I said, these were all stories and legend by the time I was loomed." His smile didn't reach his eyes. "Time Lords had learned to conquer their emotions and to think logically by then - learned to not show emotion and make decisions based upon emotions. Harnessing the amount of power we have at our control, it's of the utmost importance to protect everything around us.
A law was put into place - a golden rule for Time Lords, if you will - to keep the universe in continuance, to ensure that we do no unimaginable harm towards it's time line or place in reality."
The Doctor closed his eyes in approbation as he softly spoke words that held the utmost importance to him. "As the oldest and most mighty race in the universe, having the power to change and control what is, what could be, what may not, and what may never be on the galaxies below, we are sworn never to interfere, only to watch."
Rose was fascinated.
"So what supposedly happen'd, then? How did the Time Lords keep from... erasin' existence, before they knew not to mess aroun' and interfere?" Rose asked, unsure of how to word the lack of universe.
"Well, that's more of the fairy tale part of the story. Legend says that Gallifrey was originally made up of three classes of people. The Gallifreyans, the Time Lords and Time Ladies, and the Time Goddesses."
"Your people really weren't full of themselves at all when they handed out names and titles, were they?" Rose quipped cheekily.
"Steady on," the Doctor protested with a grin, his eyes twinkling as she returned to usual self for a moment. "If I may continue?"
Rose nodded, waving her hand solicitously for him to carry on. The Doctor rarely opened up about his past to her, and she wasn't going to miss out on this conversation for anything.
"You already know that I am a Time Lord."
Rose nodded.
"The equivalent of myself in female form, was of course, a Time Lady. Gallifreyans were the people on the planet who weren't loomed - they were birthed - and they were forbidden the ability to look into the Time Vortex, and they never experienced the wonders of time. They never had access to the Old Gallifreyan Institutes of Higher Learning, where Time Lords and Ladies trained and studied. Really, they were very similar to human beings, in all actuality."
Rose leaned forward in her chair, her chin resting on her hands as she listened. She felt a sudden understanding to why the Doctor stayed so close to Earth. Bits and pieces of his personality were finally making sense.
"The Time Goddesses, on the other hand, were supposedly very rare." The Doctor closed his eyes, concentrating as if to remember the stories of long ago. "They were made up of a small group of women, immortal and powerful. Legend says that they were held at a place of the highest esteem, above the Time Lords and Ladies."
"They were immortal?"
"I think this is where regeneration came into play. Originally, Gallifreyans, and Time Lords and Ladies only lived to be about 120 human years. The Time Lords and Ladies didn't have the knowledge to regenerate yet, and therefore were not considered "immortal". The books say immortal, but personally, I think as it was just the beginning of regeneration, they honestly didn't know how many times they could do it."
Rose was surprised. She'd honestly never thought about the history of the Time Lords before. As exhausted as she felt, she found herself both interested and intrigued. At the very least, the conversation was keeping her mind off more unpleasant thoughts.
"So your people didn't know how to regenerate? You just lived the one life, like humans?"
"Gallifreyans never had the ability to regenerate, and that never changed. Very similar to humans, in that. For the Time Lords and Ladies, part of being loomed into existence, and accessing and dispensing of the Time Vortex gave us the ability we needed to regenerate ourselves into a longer existence. However, we didn't have the knowledge to do so until the Time Goddesses allowed us that privilege."
The Doctor gave a controlled smirk as he said, "privilege."
"So these Time Goddesses, who where they? Why were they so special to the story?" Rose asked taking a long sip of her tea. It had finally cooled to a more drinkable temperature.
The Doctor looked somewhat uncomfortable before he answered. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eye.
"Supposedly, they were able to heal people."
"Yeah, you said that already. But in what way, exactly? Were people sick?"
He shook his head. "Emotionally, mostly, although they did have it in their capacity to heal physically. They could see the problem on the inside, per say. I did say that they are the ones who supposedly gave the Time Lords the knowledge to regenerate. They could see what was preventing us from the ability, in our genetic code, so that when we loomed future generations, we could fix it to where we could use the ability."
Rose couldn't stop her eyebrows from lifting, even if she'd tried.
"The Time Goddesses could also read people's feelings, and find ways to comfort them. They could take people's hurt and anger away, allowing them to see the heart of the matter in question. They could remove people's grief and hatred, to allow the person to move on from whatever had happened. Scarily, they could even change how someone felt about things."
"What? Like make someone fall out of love with someone, and make them fall for someone else? That kind of thing?"
The Doctor nodded. "Pretty much, I think. Something to that effect, at least."
"Good God. That's...scary."
"Yes it is. Really scary. See why it's all legend and fairy tale, though? It's hardly believable." He replied. "The ability to have that much power - and understand power - it would make the person a god. Well, I suppose there is a reason we refer to them as "Goddesses," huh? Hmm... never thought about it quite like that before." He rambled.
"Might be nice too, though." Rose mumbled.
"What? Being god-like? What do you mean?" He leaned forward on the table now, towards her.
"Nothin'." She looked down at her hands once more.
"Rose?"
"Just migh' be nice to have someone to be able to take away bad feelings. Might be nice to be able to make people feel better." Her voice shook as she closed the beautiful book and set it softly back at the top of the pile. Her hand lingered against the binding once more, enjoying the warm feeling she got from holding such a story in her hands.
"I'm sorry, Rose." He looked at her sadly. "If I could do anything, you know I would, don't you?"
She didn't answer him. Instead, raised her hands to her head - it was starting to pound again. She was going to have to take something.
"Rose, are you feeling alright?" He looked at her carefully before finishing off his tea, slowly taking the cup up to the sink and rinsing it out, giving her the time she needed to gather her thoughts, before he came back to the table. The chair scraped against the floor as he scooted it closer, reaching a hand across to hold onto hers. His fingers were warm against hers, which caught her attention, as usually, he ran a few degrees cooler than everyone she'd ever met. She must be cold, although she couldn't really tell.
"Is there anything you need? Anything I can do at all? Anything the TARDIS can do?"
Why was he asking? He knew there was nothing. Rose stared at him, blankly, wishing they could go back to the Time Goddess conversation. At least that had kept him interested in something other than focusing his attentions on her. She didn't feel like talking about how she was feeling. She wasn't sure she was feeling much, anyway.
The concern in his face saddened her, and she wished she could offer him something, to let him feel better.
But wait...there was something...he's just said something. It was finally sinking in. The TARDIS. They were in a time machine. The TARDIS could do anything! Go anywhere! Any time!
Jumping up, bumping the table, and almost knocking over the remains of her tea in the process, Rose latched onto the one idea that made sense in all the chaos. Her eyes shone with excitement once more, and she felt like laughing at the sheer brilliance of it all. They didn't have to be dead! She didn't have to be alone! Her Mum could still be alive! And Mickey! She'd have her best friend back!
The Doctor was now looking back with a mixture of dread and unease. Almost as if he knew what her excitement was about and was waiting to see...
"Doctor! We can go back; we can save them!" She almost laughed in happiness. "Well, not save them exactly, because we could warn them before they left, an' then they wouldn't need savin'." Rose grinned at him, the future was becoming bright again - everything was going to be great. She felt light, and giddy - happy, even! "We don't even hav' to see them at all! We can just do somethin' to Mickey's car - break it somehow, pull a spark plug out or something, I don't know. Anything!"
But the Doctor, frowning, was slowly shaking his head, now. "Rose, you know we can't." He was completely serious, and looked utterly miserable.
She didn't care.
"What? Yes, we can! We absolutely can." She wasn't going to take no for an answer. Besides, why would he say no? This was her family - her Mum for goodness sake! People he knew! The Doctor saved people all the time - that's what he did. He didn't just let people die for no reason.
Rose reached towards his hands, grabbing them to pull him up - he had to help her! He was going to take her back! But... he wasn't getting up. The Doctor resisted, his fingers gently closing over her tugging hands, holding them in his own - stilling them, and her.
"No, we can't, Rose. I'm sorry, I can't." His voice cracked. Why did he look so sad? She looked at him in confusion. This was going to be great. Didn't he see? Couldn't he see how much this meant to her? How much she needed this?
Finally standing up next to her, he held her gaze, his own expression firm, imploring her to follow what he was saying. "We can't go back. I can never go back on anyone's personal time line." Rose swayed slightly. He reached up, rubbing her arms gently.
"You know this, Rose - think about it. Remember the church? Your father? The paradox? Remember the chaos it caused?" He was begging her to remember, needing her to understand. "We could collapse the universe if we went back." His face was resolved and full of remorse; his eyes shining with tears.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry - but we can't go back."
Oh, God - it hurt to hear. Rose fought the urge to cover her ears like a child. Of course she remembered. How could she forget - her father had been so brave...
But she had. She had forgotten. She could only think of the here and now, and the pain that threatened to overwhelm her.
Blinking, she stepped back. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared up at him in horror, the ache in her stomach making her hunch forward slightly. She clutched her hands to her abdomen.
"But my Mum... Doctor. And Mickey..." The joy that she'd just felt, crashed into the pit of her stomach in that second. How could she have been so stupid, to get her hopes up. How could she have made herself believe... believe that just once... he would put her first in his life. That he would help her the way he helped everyone else.
He'd tried to reach for her then, but she pushed him away, harder than she thought herself capable. He stumbled backwards, trying to catch his fall on the table before he crashed to the floor, unsuccessfully.
She wanted to wince, to apologize - to help him up, even, but she didn't. Eyes narrowed, she walked slowly to him, seething. Her hands clenching at her sides as her heart hammered in her chest, feeling as if it would burst or break if she didn't do something to make him understand.
Standing over him, she couldn't stop the out pour of pent-up anger and emotion. She couldn't help but scream and fight him on this. She would beg if she had to - would plead with him until she was nothing - but she wasn't going to take no for an answer - she couldn't.
"We have to! We have to go back and save them! We can! They don't have to be gone! They don't have to be! Please, Doctor! Please! Help me, please!" She fell to her knees, now face to face with him, imploring him. The tears that had threatened to fall, now spilled over, running down her cheeks as she looked up at him - clutching onto him. "It's what you do. You help people. Help me," she begged.
He wouldn't even look at her. The Doctor let out a sob, forcefully untangling himself from her grasp as he pulled himself up from her. Stumbling away from her, his shoulders drooping like he was weighed down by some unseen force, he leaned over on the table, trying to gain some control over himself once again. He was gasping harshly and hastily wiping at his cheeks with the palms of his hands.
She shouldn't have even asked. But what else was there to do? What other option did she have? What was the point of anything, if she couldn't have her family anymore in the end? What was the point of this stupid time machine if it never could help anyone that actually mattered to her?
All of her travels suddenly seemed so...pointless, she thought bitterly. Here she was with the last Time Lord in existence, having seen so many worlds and having helped so many people... and for what? What did it give her in return?
Rose's breath hitched and her hands covered her face to try and reign in the feelings of hate and despair. Collapsing into herself, she tearfully pleaded, "But, they're dead now... How am I supposed to go on? How am I supposed to live? Where will I go? They were my home. My Mum..." Her voice broke, making her unable to speak. Rose attempted to pull herself together to be strong, to say what needed to be said. To say what he needed to hear. Letting out a sob, she rocked back and forth, unable to stop herself from breaking in half, literally, with the agony - aching with a need so strong, for him to understand her.
"I need a home, Doctor. My home."
The problem was that he understood all too well. Glancing at his expression, she knew his face said so much more than he would ever be able to manage using words.
Walking to her, he knelt beside her and lifted her tear-stained face by the chin so that she was forced to look at him. His expression was unreadable as he studied her tear-stained face.
"You can always have a home here on the TARDIS, Rose." The Doctor reached to caress her cheek, brushing away her tears - touching her as if she was so fragile he was afraid she might break. "Always - you can stay here as long as you want. The TARDIS can be your home, too." He was so serious, so earnest, so kind.
She tried to nod, tried to speak, tried to respond - he was radiating such understanding and patience - and she knew that he hurt, like she was hurting. She knew what it should have meant to be offered such a gift, such a place in his life. Rose knew he'd never done that before - with anyone - knew that it had probably hurt him as much to offer as much as it did to not - and she desperately wanted to take him up on his offer and be grateful for it, but she couldn't. The TARDIS wasn't her home, and Rose didn't think it ever would feel as such to her.
Home had always been... well, home. The feel of familiarity when she walked down her street and up the stairs to her Mum's flat. The smell of her room and her Mum's perfume. Mickey's laugh and her Mum's nagging - that level of comfort that made her relax in places she never knew she were tight - that was home. That was what she craved, and no TARDIS and no Doctor could ever give her that. There were so many comforts in the TARDIS, so many luxuries and allowances that made living there seem unmatchable. But the familiarity of home and things that made Rose think of home were more poignant than ever. The smells, the sensations, the odd little comfort of a cup of tea from her mum - those were things that couldn't be matched.
Home was like childhood - uniquely her own and never duplicated, never changed. It was wherever her family was, wherever she was accepted and loved and needed. The Doctor may want her to stay, may need her to be with him now, but she knew that he never actually needed her. He just needed someone. And that could never be enough to give her the comfort of home with him.
As much as she had imagined the possibility of building a home with the Doctor, in the future, it had never been more than a fleeting thought as she knew he would never allow himself to have that with her. He'd even told her so, and that conversation popped into her memory and hurt her as fresh as the day he'd said it to her every time. For her to have that memory of that conversation, and then have him offer her a home on the TARDIS, in this way - it was too painful. Literally, Rose's ears hurt from hearing it. Never once would he consider building a home with her, oh no. He was simply ensuring that she'd never be homeless, and it just showed how little he understood both the concept of home, and the loss that she was experiencing. She really thought that he of all people - of all aliens - would understand loss more than anyone else. Evidently, though, it had been too long for him; he'd distanced himself from the pain too much, that he couldn't even relate to it anymore. Or her. And that hurt more than she thought it would.
She could tell that he sympathized with her. That he didn't like to see her hurt, or in pain. But that acknowledgement wasn't enough - wasn't what she needed.
She couldn't respond to him. Seconds ticked by and all she could do was tremble in fury. Closing her eyes in attempt to take a mental step back from him, with him being so close - it was all too much. She felt waves of fury and willed the storm within her to calm - it was too much.
Angry and upset - how could she be anything but - she felt herself crumble. Finally giving into the hurt, Rose lashed out at him - because he was the only one there - him because he was so understanding and so kind, and at the same time - oh so cruel and not knowing. It hurt her worse still, because he knew exactly how she felt. A hundred times over, he understood, and still... he said the wrong thing by offering her a home on the TARDIS. He hadn't offered her a home with him - no, that would be expecting too much - he'd offered her a place instead of a person, and he'd hurt her more than she knew he was capable of.
She couldn't look at him.
Perhaps he really was a monster. She'd seen it in him, on occasion. He hid it well, but she'd glimpsed a peek at the side he protected her from, and the rawness that lingered there - it frightened her. When he'd invited her to go with him, she'd known that he was dangerous - how could a man like him exist and not be? She'd had to turn to Mickey, so that Mickey's presence would remind her that she was needed and loved and safe - she had a family she belonged to. She couldn't just leave them and go running off with a complete stranger. And because of that thought and Mickey's reminding presence, she'd been able to say 'no' to the Doctor, without the decision breaking her.
And then he'd come back. The promise of time travel had been too much to turn down. The excitement - the possibilities - the constant travel - who in their right mind could turn it down? It had been wonderful, exceeded all of her dreams, and Rose had loved it.
It was so different from Rose's home on Earth. Other than Jackie's constant nagging and the fact that she could go on and on for days about the drama at work, life was very slow. As much as her mum could nag and complain, she always was a source of constant warmth and love. Rose never felt lonely because she knew her mum was honest with her and talked to her about things. Let her in on what she was thinking and how she felt. Rose knew her, in and out, and there were no secrets between them. And then Mickey joined their family and Rose's relationship with him was always as open, loving, and familial as it was with her mum.
Life with the Doctor was completely different - even during the slow moments, as rare as they were. He was a constant ball of activity, kept her on her toes at all times. He took her to dangerous planets and they always seemed to be fighting for their lives. He would grab her hand and lead her into the chaos, protecting her and comforting her, but never giving any part of himself to her. He was never open with her about himself or his past. Never included her in his private moments, where he'd disappear for hours on end, only to emerge with something new to show her or a place to take her to.
At first, she had thought it was so fun, so exciting. As time grew on, however, she found herself becoming increasingly lonely, which she couldn't understand because he was always right there in front of her. By the time she realized that what she was feeling was loneliness, the Doctor had shown her that just because someone is physically close to you, doesn't mean you know each other in the slightest.
Rose desperately wanted to know him, to be let in, to be allowed to fall for him, but he worked diligently at keeping her at arms length - and it hurt to be faced with acknowledging that. It hurt further, because she had always been open with him, letting him in, letting him see her.
He didn't love her, she knew that. Didn't think of her as family or even consider the future possibility, of growing a family with her. And it wasn't because he wasn't capable of that love - she was sure that he'd loved before, it was that he wouldn't allow himself to feel it with her.
He'd once told her that he had taken lives and that it'd changed him. Maybe this is how he meant. He claimed to love humanity so much - always so fascinated by them, and yet, Rose mused, he'd never allowed himself to get close to anyone. To truly connect with a human being on an intimate level. Maybe it really had just been too long for him - maybe he had finally forgot how necessary it was to have family, how precious it was, how the loss of them was so close to unbearable, Rose didn't know how she was going to go on.
They flew back and forth through time and space all the time on a whim - he'd even taken her back that one time to be with her father, and yes, she'd messed up - but she hadn't asked for anything since. And now she was begging him to do this one little thing for her, this last thing - she'd never bother him again after this - he had to know that.
But still, he refused.
This though - her Mum, and Mickey - they weren't just anybody - not to her. For the first time - she didn't recognize the man in front of her - this Time Lord. How could anyone stand there and deny her this one thing - on principle?
It would have shocked her how quickly she became angry, but the rage pouring over her hit her like a flash of lightening, and she was suddenly all hands and fists, lashing out at him - assaulting him with horrible things and telling him to put God knows what - where.
Grabbing her wrists, he staved her off, yelling, "Rose! Rose, stop!" As she now tried to release her wrists from his tight grip. Pushing and pulling, she screamed at him to let go.
"No! Let go! Let me go, Doctor! I hate you, I hate you!" She wailed.
He quickly released her and she stumbled back - her eyes wide and filled with contempt, his with horror and apology.
"Rose," he said helplessly, his hands held in front of him in surrender as he took a weary step back from her, giving her some space.
Walking away from him, she turned to him and spat, "I don't want to be here - this isn't my home! I want to be home with my Mum! You took me from her! This is all your fault! And look at you - you don't even care!"
"Rose..." The Doctor interrupted.
"NO! I don't want to hear it! I thought you cared about me! I thought you of all people would understand that I need them - you, who charmed me into leavin' them in the first place. I never thought you were selfish because I knew you were lonely yourself. I honestly thought to myself, 'How can someone so desperate for companionship be selfish for it?' I never thought that once I agreed, you'd shut me out. Why do you think I agreed in the first place? Because you didn't have anybody and I wanted to be that somebody to you!"
The Doctor looked completely shattered. His arms were stretched out on the table, his weight upon them heavily as he turned his head to look at Rose.
"Do you even feel anymore? Can you? Are you even capable of understandin' what I'm feeling? Or has it been too long for you? All you do is shut me out, every time you remotely feel somethin'. You're there - I see you, and yet, you are somewhere else, all the time. I've waited - I've been so patient. He'll talk to me the next time... Eventually, he'll come around. I know he likes me, he'll open up one of these days, Rose, if I continue to be here and stay supportive. But you never do! You never acknowledge that I'm here to stay. That I'm nothing more than a passing companion.
I'm not just another companion, Doctor! Someone else to give you an excuse to keep thinkin' of new things to do. I am more than that."
Rose's anger fueled her further, and now that she'd begun, she didn't think she'd be able to stop. The rage she now felt was thrumming through her veins, and he was just standing there, eyes wide in panic, with his mouth twisted in an unpleasant horror. Half-sobbing, half screaming, she continued to scream at him, delivering blow after painful blow - needing to get it out, needing to make him hurt, needing him to feel her suffering.
"And you stand there and offer me a home here? How can I have a home here? A home has people who care about you and has people who open up to you and talk to you about things. Can't you remember? You had a home once. Or were your people too alien for the concept of home?"
"Rose!" He gasped, his acrimony on edge and his eyes dark, furious. She could see glimpses of the danger underneath - the alien Time Lord within the shell of a man.
"The TARDIS isn't warm - it's cold and clinical, and it's because you've made it that way. You are so lost and you don't even know it. I'm standing right here - I've been here all along and you've shut me out and held me at arms length, the whole time I've been on board. You stand there and you comfort me and you tell me you understand, but you know what? I don't think you really do. At least, not anymore. Because if you did, you'd understand how much you've hurt me - been hurting me all along by not lettin' me in. Don't you ever stop to think, Doctor? About all the people who've been hurt because of how you shut them out? In your long life, I can't be the first, as much as I loathe to admit that! How many companions have you had that you just dumped off one day after you tired of their company? Did you ever stop to think about them and how they felt about you? How they felt after you left them?"
The Doctor gripped the table's edges, his knuckles turning white against the strain. His chin trembled, but his eyes remained fierce. Rose wasn't shouting anymore, she was weeping. Crying out in desperation to hurt him as she hurt. Did he know what she was doing? Did he understand that she needed to lash out, that she was angry - and that he was simply there?
"How many people have died because of you? How many people have died because you didn't go back and change things? How many of those times were absolutely necessary? Why did those people deserve to die because you decided it had to be? What possible future disaster can be prevented because my mum and my best friend died?"
Rose paused to take a breath, feeling lightheaded. It was shaky and she felt ill.
"You've probably never even thought about it - no, because you're always going so fast, never allowing yourself the possibility of even considering, to even think. Not so much about that person's life, but of the lives who needed that person. Their families. When you save someone, it's not just saving them - allowing them a lifetime to live. It's saving their families and people who loved them. Because that's all we humans have. We have each other. And you have no idea how much you've hurt me by not helpin' me. You, who go around "helping" people. But not Rose. Never Rose. She's just my travelin' mate. Not friend, because that would mean I'd actually have to let her in - let her get to know me. But that's alright, because I'm a fucking Time Lord who doesn't have to open up to anybody. I don't need friends or family or anyone because I'm alone."
The Doctor sucked in a deep breath, and his chin trembled. But he said nothing to her, didn't respond, didn't look at her. It just made her angrier. The coward. He couldn't even face her - didn't even care enough to even respond to her.
"You let everyone see just how lonely your existence is, just how hard and horrible and alone it's been for you - and you get them to fall in love with you, let them want to be with you - and then you shut them out."
The silence that fell between them was deafening.
"Why did you have to do it to me?" Rose's soft voice broke as the Doctor finally looked up at her. There was complete and utter silence between them now.
"Rose," he started. "I never meant..."
"Do I mean so little to you? How could you do it? I thought you and me were..." The Doctor took a step towards her direction, his face tormented with the truth behind her angered words.
Rose took a deep breath, shaky as it was before finally whispering, "I love you, Doctor."
The Doctor stood shock still, waiting...
"And I wish I'd never met you."
And without sparing another glance at his stricken and guilt-filled expression, she ran out of the TARDIS, slamming the door, ran to her Mum's room, and curled up on the bed, sobbing her heart out.