(AN) I apologize for this taking a while, I got my wisdom teeth out, which was positively the WORST.
Review responses:
Anaika Skywalker: You will be getting answers soon! Thanks for reviewing!
Brightwatcher: Glad you liked it!
xanimejunkie: You'll have to keep on reading to see!
artsoccer: Yes, he does... Hm...
Purple Guest: Definitely a bad day, lol.
Rosealina1234: Thanks!
Kendra600: Perhaps he will be joining us! Thanks for reviewing!
Enjoy!
Rose took in a deep breath, trying to her largest capacity not to break down. She and the Doctor now walked down the dark, dingy hall to a pair of swinging doors at the end of it. Each step she took felt like another inch closer to her death, but she knew that wasn't the case.
Not her death.
Rose didn't dare risking a glance in the Doctor's direction, even though he was so close she could feel the warmth radiating off of his form. She should've known that he would come for her, follow her here. In fact, initially she had prayed for him to come, to save her in this foreign territory. But now she knew that this would only make things more difficult, and cause her more pain.
"Rose," the Doctor said softly, as they reached the door. "What's happening?" She could hear the hurt lingering behind his voice, in reaction to the silence that she was giving him, and it stabbed into her heart.
She then made the horrible mistake of turning to him, taking in his face as his eyes bored helplessly into her face, concern etching lines into his forehead. With that expression, he looked like an entirely different man than the one she knew in the other universe, but more like him than ever. She wanted nothing more in this instant than to take him into her arms and never let go, because when she let go, it would all be over.
"I can't tell you," Rose whispered brokenly. And though her voice was faint, she felt as though her admission filled the whole room, slamming into the Doctor's chest and driving him away from her. Because he looked beaten. He looked broken, and lost, and it was the most terrifying thing for Rose because she had never seen him like that before. The Doctor was supposed to be unbreakable.
"Please," he asked simply, and he took Rose's glowing hand into his. His eyes implored hers, and something in Rose snapped. She jerked her hand out of his, as though his touch burned her, and watched as his eyes widened, an unfamiliar vulnerability flashing across his face. She couldn't bear it any longer, and turned away from him briskly, shielding herself from the emotions on his face.
"What about me?" a desolate voice called. Rose turned, not to the Doctor, but to the man who stood at the end of the cooridor.
There stood Jack, or at least, the version of him from this universe. Rose had noticed him earlier, but had chosen to ignore him, not saying a word. If she didn't attach strings to these people, then she couldn't be hurt when they were cut away from her.
"My memories have been wiped, Rose! These people are dangerous!" Jack exclaimed, gesturing at her second Doctor. He wasn't really her DoctoR, however. A completely different being, who appeared the way he did because he thought it would make her happy.
How wrong he was.
Rose was momentarily tempted to remain in silence, to push away Jack as she had the Doctor, but she eventually spoke, instead, her voice very sad.
"Jack, this was mercy," Rose called. "They let you forget for a reason, you don't want to remember."
"Like hell I don't want to remember!" Jack cried, incredulous. "They've tampered with my memories, Rose, I can't ever get that-" He froze, face stricken in horror. "Rose, did they mess with your head too?!" He yelled.
Now the Doctor turned to her, fear flashing in his eyes. He went into his pocket, yanking out the sonic and pointing it at her head. In response to this, the shell of a creature that resembled her second Doctor jerked forward like a marionette, making to disable the Doctor.
"Stop," said Rose sharply, raising a hand, and the guard froze. "There's no need, he isn't hurting me."
The Doctor had paused at the sight of his second form lurching towards him, but now continued in his work, gently gripping the side of Rose's head as he levelled the screwdriver at her skull. The device buzzed for a few seconds, and then the Doctor pulled it back, reading some unknown data he had received. After scanning the device for a few seconds, he sighed in relief, shoving the screwdriver back into his pocket.
"She's okay," the Doctor informed Jack. "They haven't tampered with anything in her mind."
"No, they haven't," Rose said, somewhat irritably. She wished that this would be easy, but the longer that they stood there, talking out of all things, the more difficult this process would be. She pushed past the Doctor, through the swinging doors, and he quickly followed her, right behind her feet.
The room they now entered was the complete opposite of the hall they exited. Stark white walls, ceiling, and floors, and harsh lighting that took a second to get adjusted to. Rose shielded her eyes, blinking rapidly for a second.
Eventually she turned to the Doctor, who showed similar signs of discomfort. "Rose," he asked, "What are we doing here?
As the words left his mouth, the situation that Rose was now in suddenly became so much more real to her. It took all of her will-power to remain calm, to fake normalcy. She clenched her fists at her sides, breathing deeply.
"Take a seat," she said firmly, gesturing to a bench, embedded in the wall. It's surface was smooth, eggshell white, and appeared carved from the wall that it jutted out from. When the Doctor didn't move, seeming just as shocked as her at the situation they were in, Rose sighed, taking his hand. She grabbed it only for the purpose of leading him over to the bench, but when he squeezed her palm, locking her fingers tightly in his, she couldn't help but grip his hand just as tightly. It seemed like a lifeline now, the only thing tethering her to reality. She didn't release it, even after they had sat down.
"Rose, is everything ok?" the Doctor asked softly. It was moments like these that Rose could see though the cracks of the tough exterior he tried to constantly project. He wasn't even trying to hide his concern, and that made things so much more difficult. Rose wished that now, out of all times, he could just pretend to be strong. For her. Because she had to do this on her own, and she couldn't let her feelings intervene.
But then something broke, something shattered inside her, and she could no longer hide what had been tearing at her mind ever since she had been taken to this god-forsaken place.
"No," she whimpered, tears running down her face. "Everything is wrong, Doctor."
Before she could continue, the Doctor had taken her into his arms, holding her close. Rose pulled her arms out from where they had been pinned to her sides, wrapping them around his broad, leather-clad back. She could feel his fingers playing with her hair, and she sighed, letting her face sink into his shoulder.
"You can tell me," he said gently, somewhere near her neck.
"No," Rose said faintly, shutting her eyes against the light that burned into them. "I can't tell you."
"Why not?" the Doctor asked. He rubbed circles into her back soothingly, and Rose knew that he was trying to coax the answer out of her. But she couldn't relent.
"Doctor," Rose said stressfully, "It's the reason that Jack had his memories wiped."
The Doctor abruptly pulled away from her, but only enough so he could look carefully at her face. "You told Jack."
Rose could only nod, as more tears streamed down her face. The Doctor raised a large hand to her cheek, wiping away the dampness there with his thumb.
"They won't wipe my memories, y'know," he said, a hint of a cheeky grin appearing on his face. "I'm not a paid employee."
Rose shook her head desperately. "No, that isn't it," she said painfully. "Jack chose to have his memories wiped."
The Doctor's hand dropped limply to his side, and he could only stare at her, stricken. Rose could read his mind on the surface of his eyes. What could be so horrible that you would chose to forget it, rather than face the truth?
Rose got to her feet, leaving the Doctor seated on the bench. She couldn't bear being near to him anymore, it would allow her to give into temptation and blurt everything out like a fool.
"If you can't tell me," the Doctor called after her, "Then what am I doing here?
Rose turned to him sharply. "You're the one who came here! I didn't ask for this!" she cried.
The Doctor now stood, an oddly determined look on his face. "And I always will come, Rose," he said. "I lost you once before, and I made the mistake of taking you for granted. But now you are here again, and you have lost me as well. I'm the same man, Rose. Everything is the same."
At those last words, Rose could see something lingering under the surface of his eyes, something unsaid. She was overwhelmed by a sudden urge to say what had been entirely taboo before, what she had wanted to tell him, both versions of him, for the longest time.
But if she did, this situation would become all the more dire. She would be making attachments that couldn't be broken off, but had to be broken off. Rose couldn't do that to herself, and she certainly couldn't do it to the Doctor.
Rose took a deep breath, squaring in on the Doctor's eyes. She found that it was easiest to look at his eyes. Not his calloused hands, which she longed to hold in her own. Not his arms, which she desired to have holding her close.
"Doctor, I'm so sorry," Rose said, barely managing to force the words out. It was like a snake had constricted on her throat, choking off her air supply as her heart beat at a thousand times its normal rate.
"Why?" he asked.
Rose shut her eyes for the briefest fraction of a moment, wishing she could stay in this perfect state of safety. At the edge of the cliff, teetering over the cavernous oblivion below.
"None of this exists, Doctor," Rose said. "You aren't real."