Chapter 3

The TARDIS immediately relocated the infirmary to the front. The Doctor laid Rose on the table, cut off the shirt, and started doing scans. Thankfully, the scans revealed little more damage than he had already ascertained. He ran a sterile field over her to kill any potential infections and remove all the dirt and blood. Once she was clean, he started on her wrists. He ran a dermal regenerator across the cuts and they faded to a satisfying pink, still visible but well on their way to healing. He did the same to the bite mark on her chest. They would still leave scars. His fingers brushed across the tender pink skin of her wrist, wishing he could erase the last day. He could fix her physical wounds, but the mental ones… those he couldn't touch.

Just then, a horrifying thought occurred to him. What if she got pregnant? They couldn't have a baby on the TARDIS! He ruffled through the infirmary shelves before he found what he was looking for. Just one shot and there would be no chance of a baby. She would never leave him. He tapped the syringe, grimacing a bit at the old-fashioned technology; crude but effective. Turning back to Rose, he was about to inject her when her eyes fluttered open. He set down the syringe.

"Rose?" he asked gently, leaning over to look her in the eyes.

"Doctor?" she asked, looking blearily up at him. Then her eyes grew wide and frightened, and she rolled off the table, stumbling as she gained her footing. Like a trapped animal, she stood, crouching slightly, frantically looking for a way out.

"Rose?" The Doctor said calmly, his hands held out in a gesture of peace. She flinched away, a tray of medial equipment clattering to the floor beside her. As she glanced down, the Doctor took advantage of her lapse and leapt over the table, grabbing for her arm.

Rose backed away recklessly, objects clattering around her, but he was too fast. With a firm but gentle grip, he held her arm and kept her from running.

"Let go!" she cried, yanking furiously.

"Rose, Rose, its me! Calm down, you're okay. You're in the TARDIS. You're safe," the Doctor said, his voice carefully modulated.

Rose's eyes were huge as she stared up at him disbelievingly, her free hand scrambling across the surface of the counter behind her. Faster than he thought she could, she grabbed a surgical spanner and bashed him upside the head- directly on the wound he had forgotten about.

With a cry of pain, the Doctor released her and his hands went to his head in an attempt to hold in his brains. That hurt!

When the stars in his eyes finally faded, the Doctor looked up with a sigh. Rose was gone. Well, she couldn't go far- this was his ship after all. He patched himself up, and, feeling much better, decided to get something to eat. For some reason he was ravenously hungry.

-000-

Rose was still hiding. This was just aggravating. He missed her presence, missed having someone around to talk to. He had saved her, after all, and at great expense! Fat lot of gratitude this was.

He easily located her with the TARDIS' sensors and stomped to her door. The stupid ape had hidden in her room, how novel.

He tried the door, finding it locked. As if that would stop him! It took only a moment for the sonic screwdriver to open the lock with a click. He shoved at the door, not expecting resistance. With a growl of irritation, he realized she had propped a chair under the knob. He threw himself against the door, shattering the wooden chair and smashing the door into the wall with a shuddering bang.

Rose was cowering in the far corner of her room, clothed in so many layers that she looked like a pink snowman. He stomped into the room, stopping scarce inches away as she cringed into the wall.

"Get up!" he commanded impatiently.

Rose stood, her face pale. "Please," she said, her voice quavering, "Please don't hurt me again," she begged, tears running silently down her face.

The Doctor grabbed her arm, shaking her slightly, "What are you babbling about? I rescued you! I brought you here. I patched you up! It was those men that hurt you!"

Rose's eyes widened, her expression terrified and confused, "D… Doctor, you killed the men. Don't you remember?"

The Doctor shook his head angrily, "No, I don't remember, but I'm glad I did! They deserved it after what they did to you!"

The Doctor didn't think it was possible, but Rose paled even further, "They never touched me," she whispered, "You killed them before they could."

The Doctor released her and took a step back in shock, "If they weren't the ones who hurt you, than who did?" he asked, perplexed.

Rose's tears resumed as she stuttered out the words, "You, Doctor."

-000-

He slapped her. It had been instinctual. How dare she insinuate that he, a Time Lord, would…

"Liar!" he snarled, his fists clenched above her quaking form.

"Please," she whimpered, her hand covering her face as she lay sprawled on the floor, inching backwards- away from him.

He lunged forward, grabbing her shirt and yanking her to her feet. "You're lying!" he accused once again.

She shook her head, gripping his wrist to take off some of the pressure- she could barely reach the floor. "Your back," she croaked, the collar tight around her neck, "Check your back. I scratched you when…"

He dropped her before she finished her sentence. The Doctor stormed into the bathroom, stripping off the blue jumper he had donned earlier. He twisted to see his back in the mirror. There were ten long pink scratches. Five on each side. The kind of scratches fingernails left.

"No!" he exclaimed, shaken. It took a moment for him to slip the jumper back on, but when he returned to Rose she was still on her knees in the center of the room.

"Rose, I…" he started, not knowing what he was going to say.

She interrupted him. "Take me home, please," she whispered.

"What?' he asked, not believing his ears.

Rose looked up at him, "I want to go home."

His fists clenched and he gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to grab her and shake her again. "No," he growled finally.

Rose's mouth hung open. "Please, take me home," she pleaded, putting her hands over her mouth.

The Doctor strode towards the door, "I'm not taking you home. I'm never taking you home. You are mine. Forever," he said, slamming the door shut behind him; ignoring the sobbing.

-000-

The infirmary was covered with bits of medical equipment, some lying shattered on the floor, others crumpled into balls of pliable metal. The Doctor seethed, hunched over the results of his blood scan. That planet, those trees, they needed to be wiped out! Erased from history! They had poisoned his blood, working their way into his brain, millions of tiny spores clustering in his frontal lobe. They were fading now, unsuited to the conditions aboard the TARDIS, and with their death came memories.

The Doctor slammed his fist into the counter once more, raining shattered plastic parts across the floor. The memories seeped in, one by one revealing atrocities he had committed under the spores' influence. As the night's remembrance crept into his mind's eye, he fled the infirmary. He ended up hunched beneath the TARDIS' console, the throbbing green light soothing him as he remembered.