A/N Once alone, the Doctor and Rose have a chance to talk about the current situation and an unpleasant issue is inevitably brought up.
Chapter 4
The private villa arranged for the Doctor and Rose during their stay was situated in a prime location in the city and within walking distance of the hospital. Once again, Rose was reminded of something reminiscent of Italian architecture as she walked through the villa.
The floors were tiled throughout in warm earthen tones similar to terracotta. The open kitchen was not unlike what would be found on Earth, though it was more simplistic. Its large brick oven and stone sink added a touch of old world charm. The sitting area at the front of the villa was tastefully decorated with a daybed-style couch situated in front of a stone-hearth fireplace. To the left was a room which served as a study, and behind the sitting room was an open central courtyard featuring a tranquil fountain in the center of the space. The sound of the gentle trickling water carried throughout the open rooms, creating an ambiance of serenity.
The rear of the courtyard led to an arched doorway opening into the spacious bedroom. The bed was draped in a sumptuous, light sage coverlet, the headboard crafted of a dark, rich wood. The attached en-suite contained double basins and a large stone tub, which was already tempting Rose for a long, luxurious soak. The villa's back portico had a stunning view overlooking the lush, hilly terrain surrounding Shenreen.
After meandering through the villa, the Doctor and Rose came to stand once again in the front sitting room.
Rose turned to him. "I'll see what I can find in the kitchen for making a late dinner – I'm really starved."
The Doctor nodded. "I'll just go fetch the TARDIS and be back in a tick."
Rose wandered into the kitchen and explored further, opening what appeared to be a type of chilled cupboard, already stocked. She rummaged about and began assembling ingredients for their meal. She found an assortment of cheeses and a loaf of fresh bread, similar to a crusty ciabatta. Finding a pungent, herb-infused oil, Rose poured some into a small bowl for dipping. She took a long, appreciative whiff as her empty stomach rumbled all the louder.
Rose was just setting the items out on the large wooden table as a familiar whirring sound filled the room. The TARDIS materialized across from her in the middle of the sitting room.
The door creaked open and the Doctor stuck his head out. His eyebrows lifted as he spotted Rose in the kitchen. "Oh, blimey. I was off by just a bit. I was aiming to park in the bedroom," he admitted a bit sheepishly as he stepped out and walked towards her, hands tucked in his pockets.
Rose chuckled. "At least you didn't end up in the fountain out in the courtyard. I'd call that progress."
He huffed. "Are you insinuating my driving skills are less than perfect?"
"No, I'm saying your parking skills are less than perfect. Your driving skills are another issue altogether. I suppose we should just be glad you didn't wind up landing in that same spot, but a year in the future." Rose smiled teasingly as he cast her an affronted look.
"You're never going to let that twelve month miscalculation go, are you?" he muttered as he came into the kitchen.
Rose laughed and handed him a butcher block holding the loaf of bread. "Here, put this on the table."
He took it from her, then walked to the table and took a seat.
Rose joined him, setting out a pitcher of water as they both sat down together and began assembling their meal.
"This place is lovely," Rose remarked, her eyes sweeping about their surroundings once again.
"Mmm, not bad," the Doctor agreed as he tore off a piece of bread, dipped it in the oil and popped it into his mouth.
Rose smiled wistfully as the two sat there together, simply enjoying a normal meal within a home. The situation brought a few memories to the surface.
"Being here sort of reminds me of that time we spent in Kendal sharing a flat. Y'know, just...sitting together, in a house, doing something ordinary."
The Doctor swallowed and took a sip of water. "Well, we eat ordinary meals together in the TARDIS every day," he pointed out.
She shrugged. "I know, but this just feels...I dunno...different."
The Doctor paused in quiet thought, mulling over her words. "Is this something you want, Rose?" he asked at last, his voice carrying a trace of uncertainty. He gestured to their surroundings. "A house, with four walls and a roof."
Rose reached across the table and took his hand as she smiled. "No. I already have what I want. And I wouldn't trade our life in the TARDIS for anything." She released his hand and focused back on her meal as she cut a slice of cheese. "I'll always love the memories of the time we spent in Kendal, though. Well, maybe not all of them," she amended, remembering a few of the unpleasant details, like being attacked in an alleyway, for one. "But I suppose you could say that's what started all this and led us to where we are now – the way we are now."
Having nothing but each other – no TARDIS, no buffer of time and space, and no more excuses – had finally brought the walls down between them in that time.
The Doctor's warm brown eyes were soft as he looked at her. "Yeah," he agreed in reflection, "I suppose it did. Although...it really all started in the basement of a shop with the word 'Run.'"
She smiled slowly, her eyes twinkling. "You're such a romantic, you know that?"
"Rose Tyler, don't you dare repeat that," he warned in mock-seriousness. "I can't have the Oncoming Storm's reputation reduced to the Oncoming Romantic. It kills the effect."
Rose laughed as a smile twitched at his lips and he gave her a wink.
They ate in companionable silence for another few minutes. Despite the lightness of their conversation, Rose could sense the heaviness currently weighing down upon him. She decided it was time to draw him out and talk about it rather than having it simmer silently within him.
"Do you think there's anything you can do to help them," she finally asked softly.
The Doctor breathed out slowly. "It's too soon to say. But this...this isn't going to be easy."
"It never is. But that doesn't stop you from trying your best, and I know that's what you'll do now. That's all you can do, really."
He considered her words, a shadow darkening his face. "And what if my best isn't good enough this time?" he asked, his gaze distant.
Rose sighed deeply. "Doctor, whatever happens with these people, the responsibility doesn't rest on your shoulders. You'll do everything you possibly can, yes. But sometimes you just can't save everyone."
He chuckled bitterly and turned his head. "I think that's something I'm well aware of already, don't you?"
His voice was taking on a dark edge, but Rose wasn't backing down from his current mood. "I think sometimes you need to be reminded," she replied, her tone gentle but her words firm.
He turned his eyes back to hers and spoke sharply. "Remembering all the times I have lost in life isn't something I need to be reminded of, believe me. That's something I never forget."
Rose kept her voice even. "I'm not talking about you losing, Doctor. I'm talking about not every battle being yours to begin with. You always try to take the responsibility for fixing everything and making everyone better, but sometimes there's only so much you can do, yeah? It's like that saying, 'All you can do is what you can do, and the rest is up to God'."
He laughed cynically and shook his head.
Rose narrowed her eyes and spoke a little firmer. "I hate to break it to you, Doctor, but you are not the most powerful, almighty being in the universe. You're not God and you can't control life and death."
The Doctor sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, Rose, I really appreciate your confidence in me. It's good to know you've labeled me a failure before I've even begun," he quipped sarcastically.
Rose started to speak out of provocation, but then she stopped herself, knowing exactly what was at the root of his feelings and the reason for his contemptuous armor. "You know I don't think that," she replied, her placidness a contrast to his tone. "If anyone has a chance of being able to help these people, it's you. I just don't want you to feel responsible if you can't."
His tight shoulders relaxed slightly as he deflated and ran a hand over his face. "I know. I'm sorry. I know what you're trying to say, Rose. I also know that I can't always feel responsible if I'm not able save everyone."
"But you always try, and that's what counts." Rose covered his left hand with hers where it rested on the table. Time to get to the heart of the matter, she told herself. "Do you want to talk about what else is bothering you?" she asked softly.
The Doctor's eyes fell away from hers. "Something more than an entire race bordering on extinction?"
"The fact that they remind you of me. They remind you that our lifespans don't match."
His eyes instantly snapped back up to hers. "Rose," he said slowly, his voice carrying a distinct note of warning, "we've talked about all this before. We are not going into this again."
He might have pushed aside his fear of losing Rose in order to allow himself to have this relationship with her, but that didn't mean his heavy dread over her inevitable loss simply vanished. It meant he now had to fight all the harder to tamp it down.
"We never talk about this," she countered.
"Really? Because I seem to recall an incident last year on the beach in Antigua where I bore my soul to you and we talked about everything." His voice was beginning to rise once again.
When Rose replied, so was hers. "Once. We talked about this one time. It's never been discussed again."
The Doctor abruptly stood up from the table, his chair screeching back across the tile. He thrust a hand through his hair before turning his eyes sharply back to hers. "What more is there to say, Rose? Hmm? Do you want me to keep a calendar and mark off each day we have together, counting them down? Do you want me to make mention of every sign of aging I begin to see in you – catalog every gray hair and wrinkle that appears as you begin to wither and say, 'Look, Rose, you're slowly yet rapidly dying right in front of me.' Is that what you want?"
"No!" she shot back. "That's not what I want. What I want is for this not to have power over us. I want to talk it through so this isn't something that you keep silently buried inside, letting it eat away at you." Rose stood up and came around the table to stand in front of him. "I always know when this is weighing on you, Doctor. I can feel it. Yet you never open up to me about that. You just keep it locked away. But I've told you, I don't want you to carry these things alone." It was times like this that made Rose so frustrated with his bipolar emotions. Sometimes he was so completely open with her, and other times she had to plead with him to let her in. Even if it was painful, why couldn't he share that pain with her?
He stared at her for a long moment, his body stiff. "This is who I am, Rose," he finally responded, with a cool calmness that belied the tempest within his eyes. "You knew my nature before you accepted me. Contrary to what you believe, talking about some things doesn't help and it doesn't change them."
"And keeping everything locked inside does help?"
"Yes," he replied staunchly.
Rose felt her shoulders sag in defeat. She knew she wasn't going to get any further with him on this. Not tonight, at any rate.
She silently turned back to the table and gathered up their empty plates, then set them in the kitchen sink. His eyes remained fixed on her but both stayed silent.
Rose turned back around to face him. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed." She began walking past him towards the courtyard leading to the bedroom, but paused to add, "I'll leave you alone with your work since you insist on being the lonely god."
She slipped out into the darkness of the courtyard as the Doctor turned and walked back into the TARDIS alone, closing the door behind him.