Sorry I'm a bit late at updating, busy weekend. I'll try to make up for the lack of plot in that last chap with this one!
The arms of sleep, however, did not receive him. An hour later the Doctor rubbed his eyes for what seemed like the billionth time and rolled over again with a heavy sigh. Sleep evaded him. He had not had a good night of sleep in… He did not want to consider how long it had been. But now that his mind was on it he could not help but consider. It had been the night before he had taken Donna to Shan Shen – before he had first learned of the Bad Wolf's eminent return. In truth that had not been long ago, but it seemed like lifetimes. And in a way it was.
He was tired. He had been alive in this body for less than twelve hours and already he was so tired. Being human – even just part human – was exhausting. His single heart beat strongly in his chest, but it still seemed like it was not enough.
He shifted in the unfamiliar bed, half wondering if any bed would ever be familiar again, and tried to force himself to sleep by sheer power of will. Something was missing. The Doctor knew what it was. He hated sleeping anywhere other than his TARDIS. There was something about her that just felt so safe and warm. Her mental presence would fill his wandering mind and her constant hum would lull him to sleep. She could even help him ward off bad dreams, to an extent, and wake him if there was any problem. But she was gone. Separated from him, across the void. For the first time in a very long time, the Doctor had absolutely no idea where she was. He could not feel her at all.
He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets – he had kept his jacket on. He felt somehow safer that way. - On his right side was the key to his TARDIS. It was practically useless now, without her here, but he knew that he would never be parted from it. He would keep it with him at all times, like he always did. He felt bare without it.
In the other pocket was something even more exiting: His chunk of TARDIS. His hope. He fingered it thoughtfully as he stared up at the ceiling. The other Doctor had given it to him, but he knew that it was a gift from the TARDIS herself. Even now, she was helping him. And he knew that she would continue to do so, once he had his TARDIS again.
All the same, this did nothing to help his very tired body now. He could not keep his mind from spouting off on random thoughts like that, and could not let go and relax enough to let himself fall asleep. Half of him wished that he had never left the taxi. He had been so close to falling asleep in the back seat, with Rose leaning against his arm. Now he could do nothing more than close his eyes.
As the Doctor lay alone in the dark room something slowly caught his attention. He thought he had heard something. At first he attributed it to his not being familiar with zeppelins, or this universe for that matter. But something about the noise – he could definitely hear a noise – was different. It was familiar. It made him sad.
When he finally recognized the sound for what it was his heart seemed to slowly rip in two and fall down somewhere below his stomach. It was the sound of someone crying. Not just any someone: Rose. He could hear her, across the hall. She was not loud – if the Doctor had been sleeping he would never have heard. But now all of a sudden the soft whimpers from the other bedroom were all that he could hear.
All at once the Doctor felt frozen fear, but at the same time filled with an overwhelming need to get up and comfort the girl across the hall: To hold her in his arms and kiss each tear as it fell or to fall on his knees and apologize again and again. That was all he felt he could do now.
Slowly, almost as if he was observing his actions rather than choosing them, the Doctor found himself standing up in the dark, quiet room and making his way out the door into the cool hall. The muffled sobs were marginally louder now. He still did not know what to do. Should he talk with her, or give her space? Half of him wanted to know more than anything what she was crying about so he could fix it. The other half already seemed to know, and knew that he could never fix it, because he could never fix himself.
Mere hours ago he had felt alright. In fact, he felt ecstatic. He and Rose were together again, and he felt a unique peace that only she offered wash over him again like it had so many times before as she leaned against him and held his hand. But now, alone in the dark, with nothing but his own mind and her soft sobs to accompany him, somehow things felt different. Maybe she hadn't accepted this new him as much as he thought she had – why should she? He wasn't good enough for her, after all. He had ruined her life – again. What if everything that happened after the beach was just… He couldn't bring himself to think of Rose lying to him, not on purpose, but what if she was just pretending? Trying to force herself to love him, the left-overs, after the real thing had walked away? Trying to convince herself that she loved him, when really she could not. He wouldn't blame her.
After all, what did he know? She had been working this whole time, he didn't know how long – months, years, to find him. He did not even know how old she was anymore. And he had been running off on adventures, trying to run away from the pain. She knew this world, she had made a home here, she had made plans. And now, without even being invited, he was just going to shove his way in as if he belonged here.
Biting his lip, the Doctor stood in silence for several more agonizing minutes outside of her door. Every once in a while he would raise his hand as if to knock, but then turn away. The soft noises from the other room were getting fainter now, and the Doctor wondered if Rose would fall asleep soon. He could not make up his mind if this was good or bad. He only had one chance to decide on this, he could not pass the decision by.
At long last he stood staring the door down in the dark. He had to do this. For her sake. No matter how much it might hurt him, she deserved to hear what he had to say. She did not deserve for him to pace behind her door in fear when she needed to be comforted. She had been alone for long enough. If he could not face up to this – face up to her, and face up to himself – then why was he here? He heard his own knuckles rapping gently against the thin door, sounding as loud as a church bell in the night.
At once, Rose's sad noises stopped. Both of them sat in silent trepidation for a moment. The Doctor held his breath. Finally the door opened, connecting the dark hallway to an equally dark bedroom. The only light coming from either was from the galley down and hall and the moon through Rose's window. Rose's soft, pale skin and golden hair seemed to almost glow in the faint light, and he could just make out the gleam of her wet cheeks.
"I'm sorry." The words tumbled out of his mouth before Rose could utter a single word. All of a sudden, the Doctor could not bring himself to look her in the eye. "I-I-I…" He stuttered. All he had ever known seemed to drop out of his mind as completely irrelevant in this moment. Everything he had prepared to say, or might have prepared to say, left him. None of it was enough, none of it could have been.
Rose merely stared at him, her wet eyes watching his as he glanced at the carpet around his toes. Half hidden behind the door, she did not utter a word. She did not make a judgment or ask a question, and neither seemed to reject or accept his apology.
"I'm sorry for…" He did not know what to say. "Everything." He added at last. Still Rose made no reply. She sniffed softly, an inescapable response to the recent flood of tears that had obviously shaken her. "I don't want to… presume." He went on. "I've done quite enough of pretending I know best, and every time…" His voice cracked, "Every time, you get hurt. And I'm sorry." The Doctor could barely keep his own tears at bay. Rose bit her lip and continued to simply listen. "I-If you don't want… I mean… I don't have to…" The Doctor continued to stumble over his words. Rose did not press him. The Doctor took a deep breath, "I'll leave, if you want." He said earnestly, looking up at last. The words hung in the air for a moment, waiting as if for the executioner to come and send them down upon his head. "As soon as we land, I'm gone." He added quietly, trying to hide how much it was breaking his heart to even consider leaving her. Even now Rose said nothing. Did nothing. She simply stood there, perhaps in shock, or perhaps in honest consideration of his offer. He wondered for a moment if she had even heard what he had just said.
The Doctor could not deny the tears that now spilled down his cheeks as they stood a moment longer in complete silence. Had he physically torn out his heart, handed her a knife, and asked her to stab it, he could not have been more broken than by what he had just said. And yet she simply watched him. Sniffing at last, the Doctor shifted his eyes back to the floor. "Right, I-I'll…" Words stuck in his mouth again, unwilling to issue his final death sentence. "I'll be going, then." He said at last, struggling to keep from sobbing out loud as he turned away.
The next instant was a bit of a blur in the dark. As he turned he at last heard her whisper, "Doctor," And felt his left hand softly but urgently captured by her own. He was tugged back to face her and in the next moment he was startled to find himself wrapped in her arms. She slipped both of them under his and pulled herself quickly to his side, clinging to him with steadfast affection lined with what could only be real fear. Her head came to rest snuggly on his shoulder as she nuzzled under his chin, pressing her tear-streaked face to the base of his neck.
"Don't leave." She whispered ardently, muffled against him as she buried herself in his embrace. "Please." She added, now sounding even desperate.
The Doctor's breathed in a deep sigh of relief to hear her words, his tears turning to tears of joy as he wrapped his arms just as tightly around her shoulders. He came to lean his head down on hers, pressing soft kisses into her hair and wetting it with his own tears, just as she had already soaked the collar of his shirt. "Alright." He whispered. "I won't. I'll stay, if that's what you want." The words brought more joy to his heart than he could ever say.
"Promise." Rose insisted, squeezing his ribs tighter. "Promise you'll never say such things again, never even think it." She shook her head against him. "If you leave it will all be for nothing. You can't leave. If-If you leave, I…I…"
"Shh. I won't leave. I promise." The Doctor whispered into her hair. "I'll be with you. Forever, if you want." He smiled.
"Forever." Rose repeated, nodding and tightening her grip on him. They sat there for a moment, taking in the warmth of each other's embrace that they had missed for so long. Rose pulled back at last. "I love you." She said, sniffing.
"I love you too, Rose Tyler." He brought up a hand to gently wipe a tear from her cheek. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"Stop." She said at once, catching his hand in her own and pinning it to her face. "Stop apologizing."
The Doctor nodded and a small smile found its way to his face. He did not know how anyone could make him feel this way. So at peace. By her word, he, the Destroyer of Worlds who had ruined countless lives, felt as if he could honestly stop trying to apologize, and everything would be alright.
A/N: I hope you're liking this story so far! If you do, please check out some of my other DW fics if you haven't yet. This story is actually a continuation of a chapter off my series of one shots "Not Domestic", to which I have recently posted a new chapter!
Reviews make me happier than I can say :) Thanks.