Disclaimer: Nothing Doctor Who is mine. Happy now?
A/N: Just a bit of wondering transformed into words. Title pretty much speaks for itself.
Rose's Room
The Doctor's newest companion had taken the day to explore the Tardis. Sure, she spent more time on the worlds the Tardis took her to than on the actual ship itself. But that was the point. Why she'd taken it upon herself to explore. After all, the Tardis was a living being who took her to all these unbelievable places in the first place. Taking that for granted was criminal. So, as the Doctor busied himself beneath the console, sonic screwdriver between his teeth, she was traveling the many twists and turns of the Tardis hallways.
Skipping over a bundle of rope and skirting a bunch of barrels, she passed through the kitchen, the loo and into unknown territory. The huge library. A storage room. One room chalk full of pillows. Another, the floor bouncy as a trampoline. Another with a blue spidery hologram-like web floating and humming in the middle. A room with what seemed to be a pool full of bubbles. A room full to bursting with art, silent as a museum. A room resembling a cave. The next room surprised her with its normalcy. A woman's bedroom. No, upon closer inspection, not just one woman's room. Women's room. As her eyes fell upon various odds and ends, she realized she must be in the room for the companions. The room was littered with junk, but she smiled, and her throat tightened as she realized that her own junk would soon be as haphazardly spread across the carpet as well. She ran her fingers over a stethoscope. A bathrobe with a fancy D sown in gold. A hairbrush with red strands. She bit her lips as she backed out with a smile.
"Got to show you to your room soon," he'd said brightly only the day before.
She wandered down the hall and nearly missed a door. She backtracked and raised her hand to the knob, then hesitated. Something about the room seemed taboo. The door was different than any other on the Tardis. It seemed too earth-like, too 21st century. Something she could have had at home. Something prompted her to ignore her hesitation, and she grasped the crystal doorknob and swung it open slowly. Her breath caught. The room was unlike any other. A bedroom like hers but so pretty and clean. It looked like it was tended to every day. Pink and yellow. She wandered in, gazing around in wonder. She gazed in shock at the window. The frilly white curtains were pulled back to reveal a baby blue Earth sky, scattered with fluffy clouds, the sun shining brightly from somewhere in the distance. She blinked. Hold on, no. That was impossible. First of all, as far as she knew, the Tardis didn't have windows. At least none that functioned properly. Second of all, they were floating in space. Bewitched. The word popped unbidden into her mind. Yes, she thought. That was it. Like the ceiling at Hogwarts bewitched to look like the outside sky. Only, this was science. So more like a hologram. Her brow furrowed. The Doctor's work obviously. But for who?
Her eyes travelled over the pink and red duvet on the bed, thrown back almost as if its occupant had left it not moments earlier. She could almost imagine the dent of a head in the pillow. A picture frame containing the photo of a family caught her attention. She picked it up to study it closely. A blonde woman next to a red haired man. The woman held a baby, at least a year old. She didn't recognize any of them. No clue as to who any of this was for. She placed it back down and wandered to the closet full to bursting. Her hands ran across a blue zipped sweater, a jean jacket, a pink 50's skirt, a full black and red dress and a purple-red scarf. She turned to face the room again. Suddenly, she felt cold. And completely and utterly alone. The room was so bright, so pretty, but it chilled her to the bone. Because it was waiting. Waiting so hard you could almost hear it. And the lonely, dark feeling that made her heart sink was the realization from somewhere within her subconscious that whoever the room was waiting for, all ready and perfect and clean, would never again step foot in it, would never again sleep in the unkempt bed, never wear the pink high heels again, never sit gazing through the window at an outside world as artificial as the waiting illusion inside. She suddenly wanted out, didn't care to know who or why. An alarm clock beside the bed blared. 7:30, it read.
A movement from the corner of her eye started her frozen. The Doctor stood in the doorway. His eyes blazed. Rage, anger, pain and loneliness were etched across his face and emanated from him in waves. And she realized it was not the room that was waiting but him.
Rose ran her tongue over her teeth, her throat tight. She'd lived with her mom for nineteen years. It was time. Still, there were moments when she wanted to curl up in her mother's lap like the little girl she'd been not too long ago. Didn't matter. She'd made her choice. Final decision. From here on out, it was the Doctor and Rose.
"Long term, full time, permanent," The Doctor echoed her thoughts, smiling brightly. "Right then, let's show you to your room." He shifted her huge bag to the other arm and held his arm out.
She hooked her own through his. "That's hardly the end of the world," Rose scoffed.
The Doctor tilted his head with a grin. "Just you wait."
They lost themselves in the maze of the Tardis hallways. As they turned a certain corner, Rose detangled herself from his arm and rushed ahead. "Wait, wait, wait. I want to do this one." She said excitedly.
The Doctor watched as she grasped the doorknob. He could let her. Let her move in among the remnants of companions past. She could throw herself onto the same bed as Sarah Jane, just in her different Rose way she had of doing things. She could peek her head from the door like Susan when he knocked, her smile her own. He could let her become like the rest. Share the same room. No different from the others. If he did, that would define them. Whatever they were becoming. And whatever was growing between them could slip into the realm of choices never made, moments never lived, what could have been but never was. And he never had to find out what could be. Because one day, like all the others, she could fade away into space, become another goodbye with time, just one face among others. The choice was his. All he had to do was let her open a door. And she would become just companion number…what was it now?
But no, he'd seen what it could be, and if he didn't get the chance to live that no matter how it might end, he might as well just give up now. He needed to live through it all, find out everything that could be.
"Rose." She stopped, looking curiously back at him, her hand pausing on the knob. His head shook almost imperceptibly. "No. Not that one. This one here. Just for you." He gestured towards another door. White with a crystal clear knob, not unlike her door at home.
"But I thought-" He put a finger to his lips, then swung the door open. She shut her mouth and wandered with awe into her bed room straight from home down to the candle sticks. Her eyes roamed the walls, the floors, her things. Any last tendrils of homesickness faded away. She gazed through the window. The same view from the Powell Estate, but better somehow. She looked back at him, awe and wonder and something else sparkling in her eyes.
"How-" Her voice caught.
He placed the bag on the bed and shrugged. "Wasn't me," he said flippantly. "Told you I don't do the domestic. Also told you the Tardis was psychic. And she likes you." He smiled brightly as he left the room, closing the door behind him.
She knew he was lying, and he knew she knew. But they wouldn't speak of it. Even though she may have wanted to. Somehow, he was happier leaving certain things unsaid. So the gesture would flutter down to rest on a pile of other things left unsaid but still alive and vibrant and real: a brush of the fingertips, a quick meeting of the eyes, a shared and knowing smile. She knew the other room was for companions. Had even slept once there. Always figured it'd be partly hers one day. Had even looked forward to it. Her tongue slipped between smiling teeth. Somehow, though, like everything else when it came to the Doctor, this was so much better. Because even if he'd never say it, she knew. And that was enough.
Our newest companion looked down at the floor as she slipped past the Doctor, unable to meet his eyes. Without thinking, she slipped back into her room, the words unspoken but there. This would be her room, never the other. She sat on the bed and clenched the edge. Moments later, she heard a door from beyond close. She peeked her head out. The hallway was empty. And suddenly she wondered if this was where he disappeared to sometimes. He came back so quiet. And she wondered how many times a day he did it. And for how much longer he would do it. She really didn't want to know the answers to any of her questions, didn't care to know the details. Because, somehow, she knew there were no words painful enough. She closed the door.
A/N: So, bit of a stretch, but you never really do find out about the inside of the Tardis beyond the console and costume rooms. I love the idea of Rose's room as this. And I know the way I described is a bit different than the way you see it in "Rose" or "World War 3," but nevertheless, that's hardly the point here. Sorry for any typos/misspellings, but it is a little late over here. Review if you liked. Read a banana if you didn't. And if you figure out how to do that second one, let me know, because I'm still clueless.