A/N The Doctor makes significant progress in his recovery. Now it's time to help the TARDIS do the same...
Chapter 10
All things considered, the day had turned out to be an enjoyable one for the Doctor and Rose, which was no small gift considering the events of the previous. The Doctor had regained full consciousness, they had experienced the pleasure of a relaxing bath...together (and that was something both found themselves inadvertently reflecting upon more than once throughout the day), had spent an enjoyable time in the gardens well into the afternoon, and had even ventured out for just a bit into the nearby town later that day. Although that had not been the most comfortable of experiences. While the people didn't crowd them and maintained a respectful distance, it was clear the Doctor and Rose were the objects of curiosity and drew many stares and murmurs. These two foreign travelers didn't exactly blend in. But all around, it had still been as pleasant a day as it could have been under the circumstances.
Once it was time to turn in for bed that night, both had a moment of inward uncertainty about their continued shared sleeping arrangement and the possible awkwardness that could crop up, but then both realized the awkwardness just didn't seem to be there – at least not on the level that it could have been. After their shared bathing experience, this hardly compared. And aside from that, neither one particularly wanted to have any separation either, as both were still serving to keep the other grounded and reassured at a time when they were assured of little else, other than having each other.
Rose did change for the night in the privacy of the bathing chamber, though. They might have reached a newer level of ease, but stripping down in front of the Doctor was still not something either could take in casual stride. 'Though maybe someday that could change...,' came the wayward thought flitting through Rose's mind as she'd slipped on the nightgown she had selected. Rose then quickly realized she needed to harness such thoughts, or else sleeping beside the Doctor might result in a very tense and very frustrating lack of sleep.
Speaking of sleep, when she re-emerged back into the bedchamber, Rose found that the Doctor (who had presumably stripped back down to just his boxers as she had changed, but she was not allowing herself to dwell too dangerously long on that thought), was already in bed and appeared to have drifted deeply into sleep. A soft smile crossed her face at the rare sight. He still had some healing to do, and as Rose slipped quietly into bed beside him, she hoped that submitting to his body's rare need for restorative sleep would continue to speed the process of his recovery.
Turning on her side as she nestled beneath the covers, Rose gave one more lingering look at the Doctor's relaxed face in the dim glow of moonlight before allowing her own eyes to drift shut, reassuring herself that things would continue to get better from here. Surely they had made it through the worst.
-:-:-:-
When Rose blinked awake the next morning, it took a few seconds to realize that what she was seeing wasn't just a dream. If it was a dream, then it was a dream come true. She was met by the glorious sight of the Doctor's eyes on hers – his gorgeous deep brown eyes, still reddened but very much open and very much focused on her. He was smiling – a genuine joyous smile, and not just with the upward curve of his lips; his eyes were a reflection of that smile. The Doctor was fully dressed in his suit, propped on his side next to her on the bed and staring down at her face. Before Rose even had a chance to speak, he characteristically beat her to it.
"Did you know," he began matter-of-factly, "that your eyes twitched a total of 537 times during your final REM cycle? That's a new record for you."
Rose blinked up at him, mouth agape, then after a beat launched herself up, overbalancing him over onto his back as her arms came around him in a crushing hug. "You can see again!" she cried joyfully.
"'Course I can. I told you – superior biology, me. Just needed a bit of recuperation. And sleep...apparently. Odd, that – actually needing it. How you humans cope with needing it night after night for eight hours at a time is beyond me. Must get awfully boring. Although...I suppose it isn't entirely unpleasant, now and then." He grinned up at her giddily from his position below, momentarily feeling nothing but pure happiness with his delightful armful and eyeful of Rose.
"Oh, Doctor, you can see!" she repeated ecstatically. The size of her grin nearly rivaled his own, but it slowly retracted as Rose registered that she was sprawled atop him on the bed, her arms around his shoulders and one leg slung over his waist. And if her precariously-positioned right knee moved just a few critical inches lower...
Rose cleared her throat and gingerly slid back off him. They both sat up, and Rose's mind then began to process the second revelation the Doctor had just given. "And you've been...counting how many times my eyes twitch while I slept?" she queried, pondering this little tidbit of info.
He paused before answering. "Well, I have to do something to pass the time while you're just...lying there," he reasoned. "You humans and that excessive need for sleep..."
Rose might have just let it go at that if she hadn't caught on to something else rather revealing in his first statement. "And you also said it was a new record. How exactly would you know...?"
He shifted his legs a little, sitting cross-legged and affecting (what he hoped was) a casual pose as he waved one hand breezily. "Like I said...your excessive need for sleep. I sometimes have to find...well...something to occupy the time while you're sleeping half your life away on the TARDIS, too."
There, he thought. That was a perfectly reasonable answer that didn't sound stalkerish, voyeuristic or otherwise wholly inappropriate. Wasn't it? Now if Rose would just let this drop.
She wasn't letting it drop. "You...watch me while I sleep?" she reaffirmed while gaping back, though she didn't find the revelation creepy, but something quite the opposite.
He tugged a little at the collar of his shirt, then tugged on his ear. His hand went to the back of his head and Rose suspected he was tugging on his hair. Apparently she'd set him off on a tangent of tugging.
"No. Um, yes. Well...not all the time. That is to say...there have been...I suppose...a few occasions when I've...well..." Rassilon! Oh, this was going brilliantly. The Doctor cleared his throat and reattempted to form a coherent sentence. "There was...just one time in particular when you'd recently lost your face to an energy-sucking entity, and I needed to take a second look later on just to be sure everything was still back in order and where it was supposed to be. Wouldn't want your nose to have ended up on top of your head, or your ears to be on your chin. Now that, that can get cumbersome! Just ask the Slurians..."
Rose grinned brightly, the tip of her tongue making an appearance. "You come at night to check on me." She was suddenly feeling just slightly light-headed from giddiness.
The Doctor was feeling a little light-headed too, from Big Mouth Syndrome. Why couldn't he ever keep his gob in check? Rose wasn't going to let him soon forget this. "You are one of the most jeopardy-friendly companions I have ever had," he accused, voice rising in pitch as he tried to cover his actions. "If ever anyone needed checking on, even in sleep–"
"Thank you," she cut him off with simple gratitude. Rose decided she wasn't going to tease him or try to make his actions into something more than he was comfortable admitting (because he clearly wasn't). Those simple words conveyed her feelings appropriately enough.
The Doctor almost replied 'anytime,' but this time managed to keep his mouth from getting away from him. Instead he quickly shifted gears, jumping off the bed with a bounce. "Well, it's about time you finally woke up because we have work to do today."
He walked over to the center window and gazed out, seeing for himself the rolling landscape Rose had painted in his mind the day before. He turned back towards her, and any trace of the lighter mood that had been between them changed like the flipping of a switch as his voice took on a dark tone. "It's time to go to the TARDIS."
Rose slipped out of the bed and stood, noting how his eyes flicked briefly down the elegant white nightgown she wore, and Rose thought it was probably a good thing she had opted to sleep in this rather than just her underwear like that first night. Getting out of bed in that state could have made things just a little awkward.
"We can get inside her now?" Rose questioned, her voice hopeful.
"She's safe enough to enter," he answered somberly. "I need to go now and see just how extensive the damage is."
"Are you sure you're well enough just yet?" Rose asked, noting his still bloodshot eyes and wondering if he could withstand the full glare of sunlight this soon. "Your eyes have only just recovered enough to see again. You don't want to push it. One more day isn't going to–"
"I am not spending one more useless day doing nothing while the TARDIS needs critical repairs," he nearly snapped, his voice rising.
Rose replied calmly, realizing his anger wasn't really intended to be directed at her. "Recovery isn't useless. It's necessary. And I just want to be sure you're alright."
The tense set of his jaw relaxed marginally but he wasn't backing down on his insistence. "I know. And I appreciate your concern, Rose. I do. But I'll be alright only once the TARDIS is functional again, and that can't happen with me just sitting here."
Rose studied him for a second as she considered his words, then nodded. She wasn't going to get anywhere opposing him, and they worked best when they were working together, not oppositely. "Well, we best get started then."
-:-:-:-
Rose decided it was best to forgo one of the elegant dresses she had been given to wear in favor of slipping back into the jeans, T-shirt and jacket she had arrived in, which had now been cleaned. She would save the frills for their dinner with King Zerin that evening. For now, this was much more practical.
The TARDIS wasn't too far away, just about a mile over the hill beyond the castle, and the Doctor and Rose were both itching to get their feet moving again, so they happily walked the distance to the ship, turning down the offer of a royal escort. Rose was relieved that the Doctor's eyes seemed to be adjusting to the outside light without difficulty, and he appreciatively took in their surroundings as they went, now able to see for himself the landscape of Zobulan and the outskirts of the town he had missed seeing on their arrival and during their outing the previous day. Although this time they took a less populated side route to avoid a throng of onlookers who might gather to watch the 'mysterious travelers' pass by.
The dark mood the Doctor had slipped into before setting out had dissipated during their pleasant trek as he took in the surrounding sights, but it was as if a cloud passed over his face as soon as the TARDIS came into view in the field beyond. It stood stoic and alone. Though initially gaining notice in arrival, the TARDIS' resting place didn't seem to attract the attention of curiosity seekers; but then, somehow this peculiar ship never did, no matter the planet or time period or even when materializing in plain sight. It was just another marvel of this rare time-ship, even now in its debilitated state.
The amiable chatting between the Doctor and Rose instantly halted and their steady pace slowed as his eyes fixed on the TARDIS. From the outside it looked the same as ever to Rose, but she could see by the Doctor's face that what lay beyond the doors of the TARDIS was as painful to him as it was to the ship.
He approached slowly and placed a hand on the blue exterior, his eyes briefly closing. The Doctor had felt pain in regards to the TARDIS before when he thought it was lost to him on Krop Tor, but this pain was altogether different. This wasn't the mournful ache of separation; this was the raw, shredding pain of a brutal wound.
Rose came up beside him and gently touched the other side. "She's hurting," she murmured softly. Rose could sense it too, just a touch.
The TARDIS was a constant presence in a part of her mind, as she had learned on her very first trip with the Doctor when he described how alien languages she heard spoken were translated. 'It's a gift of the TARDIS. Telepathic field, gets inside your brain – translates,' she could hear his Northern brogue explaining. But it went beyond that now. In a pivotal moment of Time she had become one with the very heart of the ship. Rose had looked into the TARDIS, and the TARDIS had looked into her. For a moment of Time, Rose beheld things so immense that she wasn't even allowed to remember them all. There remained still a connection on some deeper level, and Rose now felt a trace of the ship's pain.
It was a fraction of the pain the Doctor had shared acutely since regaining consciousness. It had dulled from the initial agony, but as he pressed his hand to the worn exterior the pain radiated through him more intensely. The Doctor could do little more than nod in reply to Rose's statement. He lowered his hand and then slowly, carefully opened the door.
Rose cautiously followed in behind him. She had once seen the TARDIS in a state the Doctor had described as 'dead' when they had fallen into a parallel universe; but though it was now still clinging to life, never had she seen the TARDIS quite like this. This wasn't a sudden and painless death. This was prolonged agony.
The interior was charred, the harsh scent of lingering smoke burning their nostrils upon entry. A weak glow from the Time Rotor was the only remaining sign of life. A sound almost like a deep, agonized groan emanated from the core as the Doctor moved closer. He placed his hand on the central column, the shared pain again visible on his face. "I'm here," he whispered, both with his voice and with his mind, though the audible words were strained.
The burned interior wasn't the only drastic change to the inner appearance. The size of the ship that was bigger on the inside had diminished drastically. The characteristically lofty ceiling was now just barely tall enough to accommodate the Time Rotor, which itself seemed to have compressed in size. The console room had not only closed inward in size, but it seemed to be the only room, all corridors leading out from it gone.
Rose wanted to ask about this but wasn't quite sure what to say. 'What happened' didn't seem like an appropriate question considering her vivid knowledge of what they had come through. Obviously the ship was in dire straits.
She didn't need to ask though, because the Doctor had already noticed her surveying the ship with a look of concerned perplexity and answered her unspoken question.
"She's had to funnel all of her effort into maintaining this room, so all other non-critical space has been compacted. That, and the dimensional stabilizers, which among other things are what gives a TARDIS its size, are weak right now. Which also means she can't cross three-dimensional barriers to travel the Vortex," he murmured, his hand still resting on the central column.
He peered around, carefully examining the console and shook his head. "The time vector generator is also severely damaged, and if it remains that way for too long then..." His words trailed off at the end, not even wanting to finish that thought. He slowly shook his head again as he stooped down and gingerly inspected beneath the console. "If it's repaired, the TARDIS can expand again, but without careful assistance the internal configurations can become scrambled. There's no spare time vector generator, and one can't be constructed in a practical amount of time, either." He stood back up, scrubbing a hand down his jaw. "And adapting the emergency one used in the tertiary control room is impossible."
Rose didn't need to understand his technical words to know this wasn't at all good. She also knew she had never once seen the Doctor give up. And though dismal, he wasn't going to give in now.
"Well, it sounds like we've got our work cut out for us then, yeah?" she said in a determined tone.
The Doctor's grim expression hardened to one of resolve. He nodded. "And as they say, no time like the present." He unbuttoned his jacket, shrugged it off and tossed it aside, then began rolling up his sleeves.
He wasn't giving up on his ship, and he was not going to confine Rose to a life on the planet Zobulan. They might be enjoying privileged accommodations at the moment, but he certainly had no plans for permanence.