Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

A/N: I watched the episode Father's Day again, and noticed how Rose peeled the Doctor's hand off her arm when he stopped her from touching baby Rose, and I had to write this down.

Bruises

Rose hadn't thought anything could be worse than the pain she'd felt when she'd watched her father die in front of her, but watching the Doctor be killed by a reaper, she'd known she was wrong. Watching the Doctor die was worse, because it was her fault. She knew that her father had to die. The past wasn't meant to be changed like that, but the Doctor's death, that wasn't supposed to happen, and it was all her fault.

He'd warned her not to touch baby Rose, but she'd instinctively taken the child and the Doctor had paid that price. She wondered if it had hurt him to die, if he remembered the pain he'd felt then. She could remember the pain clearly; it would remain bruised on her heart forever.

Laying on her bed, trying to stifle the tears that would not stop, Rose wondered if the Doctor would ever forgive her.

The Doctor sighed as he tinkered with the TARDIS. Rose had gone to her room as soon as they'd returned to the TARDIS, unable to even look him in the eye. He knew he'd been harsh with her, but he hoped she hadn't taken any of his words to heart. She was still the best, and even the best make mistakes sometimes.

Hours passed, and finally Rose ventured from her room. She'd washed her face and redone her makeup. She'd even shed the light jacket she'd been wearing since the TARDIS was so warm. She curled up into the jump seat, and smiled tentatively at the Doctor. He returned her smile, and she relaxed into the seat.

They sat in companionable silence while he tinkered and she watched. He loved it when she watched him, even if he'd never admit it. He watched her too, though he'd never admit that either.

Rose shifted, brushing her hair away from her face, and he froze.

"What's that?"

"Hmm?" Rose looked up to find him staring at her. "What's what?"

"That," he repeated, moving closer to her. "Did one of the reapers get you?"

"No. I'm fine," she replied, confused.

"Then what's that? Did someone hurt you?" The Doctor's voice was dark.

Rose frowned but followed his gaze to her forearm. Bruises had blossomed on her forearm. She studied them. They almost looked like…fingers.

"Huh," she said. "They don't hurt. I didn't even notice them."

"That's not the point, Rose. Who hurt you?"

"I dunno, Doctor. A lot happened today. I can't think of anythin'," Rose replied honestly.

"But…" the Doctor trailed off, and his eyes widened in horror. "I know what happened."

Rose glanced at him trustingly, raising an eyebrow in question. He wished she wouldn't. She should never trust him again.

"I did that."

"What? Doctor, you'd never–"

"But I did. When I stopped you from touching baby Rose. I wouldn't…I didn't…Rose, I swear I didn't mean to." The Doctor winced. How many jerks said that after hurting someone? How could he have hurt Rose?

"Oh." Rose studied her arm thoughtfully. She remembered now. She'd reached out to touch baby Rose, curious as always, and the Doctor had placed a restraining hand on her arm. She'd peeled his hand off more because she was annoyed than because it hurt, but she supposed he had gripped her arm rather tightly. Honestly, she hadn't noticed. She'd still been upset, and trying to make amends. And then he'd died, and she'd forgotten completely.

"It's all right, Doctor. It doesn't hurt," she said comfortingly.

"But, Rose, I…" The Doctor trailed off and Rose saw the pain on his face. She was sure he was hurting much more than her arm.

"It really doesn't hurt, Doctor. I didn't even feel it, and I know you didn't do it on purpose."
"I didn't." He sounded aghast. That wasn't the point. He'd hurt her. He'd hurt Rose. "I would never. Rose, I would never." He couldn't take his eyes from the dark marks on her arm.

"I know, Doctor," she said patiently. "Maybe you could fix it up, though? It doesn't hurt, but I dunno…it doesn't look pretty."

The Doctor nodded absently, still staring at the ugly marks on her arm.

"Doctor?" Rose reached out to take his hand in hers.

"What?" The Doctor's eyes snapped to her face, barely resisting the urge to pull his hand away from hers. He should never be allowed to touch her again.

"I said, maybe you could fix it for me?" She sounded so hopeful, and the Doctor knew he couldn't refuse her.

"Oh. Yes. Right. Of course," he said before clearing his throat. "Yeah. Let's go to the infirmary."

His hand gripped hers more softly than usual, and Rose could feel how hesitant he was to touch her, but he still led her by the hand to the infirmary and helped her sit on the table.

He turned away then, dropping her hand while he rifled through the different medical devices. Finally, he turned toward her, hesitantly reaching for her arm before stopping himself.

"Doctor, you're not gonna hurt me. I'm fine," she repeated.

He cleared his throat. "Hold out your arm."

Rose almost complied. After the day they'd had, the last thing she wanted to do was push him, but she couldn't let him go on thinking he'd hurt her. "I think you should probably lift my arm, Doctor," she said confidently. "That way you can maneuver it how it needs to be so you can reach it best."

The Doctor stared at her for a few moments and she watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed heavily. Finally, he reached out his hand to grasp her arm, gently turning it so he could see the bruises—bruises shaped like his hand. He ran his thumb gently over the area, and she winced slightly. Before he knew what he was doing, he brought his lips to her arm, placing a kiss reverently over the bruised area. Rose held her breath, but there was nothing she could do about the way her heart tried to beat out of her chest.

"I'm so sorry, Rose," the Doctor whispered against her skin before pulling back to run the medical device over her arm.

"Me too," she said.

He raised his eyes to hers. "Why're you sorry?"

"For today," she said. "For everythin' that happened today. For…gettin' you killed."

The Doctor didn't say anything while he fixed her arm. When he was done, he reached out and drew her into his embrace. "None of it was your fault, Rose. You're human. It's very, wonderfully human to want to save the ones you love."

"'m still sorry," she said.

The Doctor sighed as she wrapped her arms around his back, and he wrapped his arms more firmly around her, drawing her deeper into his embrace.

"Me too, Rose. Me too."

Some bruises went deeper than the skin. Some bruises remained for a lifetime. Some bruises were superficial. And some bruises, the Doctor and Rose were learning, could best be healed with a light kiss and a strong hug.