#Doomsday fixit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

megabadbunny · 6 years ago

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Ten and Rose, 2, E and ➕

(tenrose, bad wolf bay, comfort, four’s scarf from @doctorroseprompts )

For a few blinding moments, all she feels is the sheer whitecold.

“…you not to, I toldyou,” bleeds into her hearing, faint and dim like a background hum, like adream. The voice is cottony through the ice-cold of her skin, the painscreaming in her veins, the penny-copper smell in her nose, but if she didn’tknow any better, she’d almost think it was him—

“No, no no no no,” says the voice frantically, fromsomewhere far away, and she wonders what’s wrong. “Stay awake, stay with me,don’t—”

The darkness is quiet and warm.

***

She dreams; she dreams about stormy grey beaches and solidwhite walls.

***

White floods her vision the moment she wakes.

“Rose? Are you conscious? Are you all right?”

She blinks, sorting through the words in her head, parsingthe meaning of them. It’s a little difficult to separate them from the faintbeeping surrounding her, an uneven beep-beep-beep,beep-beep bleating in time with herheart. Her skull feels stuffed with cobwebs and it’s taking a little while forthings to make their way through.

Eventually, the Doctor’s face swims into view, sharplycontrasted with the stark, antiseptic walls around him. He looks worried.

God, he’s lovely.

“Rose?”

“’M fine,” she says automatically. And really, she is, ifyou ignore things like her cloud-filled head and aching temples and how shecan’t seem to stop shivering and it would be nice if the room stopped moving,please.

Grimacing, the Doctor drags a hand over his face; eventhrough the fog in her head, Rose can see that he’s trembling. “I told you notto do it,” he breathes. “I don’t know what you were thinking.”

His gaze turns hard. “I should have stopped you.”

Feebly, Rose tries to protest, to reach for him, but hejerks back faster than her brain can process right now, as if he needs timebefore he can touch her again, as if fouryears wasn’t enough somehow. He stalks away before Rose can open her mouth,to plead with him to stay.

It’s just as well. He won’t miss much while she slips backinto unconsciousness.

***

She closes her eyes and her brain plays back memories likefilm on a rickety projector.

***

There’s another voice out in the corridor, now; Rose canjust make it out over the beeping of the monitors in the medbay. Beep-beep, beep-beep, they chirp, cheerful, slow, steady.

“Wait, so you’re telling me the love of your life is inthere—right there, right now—and instead of marching in there andtaking care of her, you’re sitting out here, bloody brooding?”

“She’s well-cared-for, Donna,” is the curt reply. “She’s notlacking for any amenities or medical attention.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

Silence. Rose imagines the Doctor is glaring at the floorright about now, brow furrowed and arms crossed over his abdomen. Petulant, she thinks hazily, though shecan’t quite remember what the word means.

Beep-beep, beep-beep,chimes the medical monitors. A cold sound in a cold room. Rose is piled withblankets but she can’t stop shivering.

She wishes she could see him.

“So how long are you gonna pout out here, anyway?” the othervoice—Donna—asks impatiently.

Again, the Doctor doesn’t reply. Several moments pass inagonizing quiet before Donna huffs in irritation. Rose can practically hear her rolling her eyes, even throughthe walls of the medbay.

“Fine, have fun being a giant prat,” says Donna, and thesqueak of trainers on the floor lets Rose know she’s walking away. “I’m sureRose came back just for that!”

It’s about what Iexpected, actually, Rose thinks, or maybe says, she can’t be sure. Thebright-white hurts her eyes so she closes them and slips quickly back intoslumber.

Beep-beep, beep-beep.

***

Ring-ring, ring-ring.

The line chimed forages; generations and eons and entire geologic periods passed in the timebetween knells. Rose worried her lip between her teeth, fingers tapping an idletaboo against the side of her headset. Glancing down at the equipment desk, shewatched her old mobile as it flashed numbers and a tiny blue icon across itscracked little screen, happily announcing that, yep, it was still calling, andnope, no one had picked up yet. Chin in hand, Rose tapped the dials in front ofher, double-checked the diagnostics screens, triple-checked the many cablesconnecting her old mobile to the Projector device in a tangle of dully blackand grey.

Fifty-two calls, now;that meant fifty-two other universes detected, not one of them right. Mickey’shalf-lidded, sleepy eyes and the lab tech’s fingers lazily spinning a pencilback and forth let Rose know they’d already given up on this call, and shecould only half-blame them. Call fifty-three certainly didn’t look promising.

“That’s forty-fiveseconds gone,” Mickey rattled off, watching dispassionately as the stopwatch inhis hand counted down. He stifled a yawn. “Just over a minute left. You wannago ahead and cut out?”

“No, might as well gothe full 113. We’ve got the budget for it.”

“Yeah, but then it’stwo days before we can make another call. If they even let us make anothercall.”

Ring-ring, ring-ringchimed the other end of the line.

With a dry chuckle,Rose adjusted a knob on the Projector, wincing at the feedback that flared inher ear. “Of course. What’s the fate of the universe when you’ve got that peskybottom line to maintain?”

“On the plus side,when we do blink out of existence, at least we won’t hear any whinging fromAccounting anymore.”

Ring-ring, ring-ring.

“Or maybe that’s allwe’ll hear,” joked the lab tech—technically the lead lab tech, a friendly andpleasantly plump middle-aged woman named Julie, and coincidentally, one ofperhaps four people besides Rose and Mickey who hadn’t completely given up onthis project. She swiveled round in her chair, her pencil still dancing betweenher fingers. “You know,” she continued, “if those cult leaders are right andwe’re going to hell, and all.”

“God,” Rose and Mickeygroaned in unison, and Rose laughed. “They’re not still picketing outside thelobby, are they?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah. Now they’vebeen joined by that other cult, the what-d’you-call-‘em’s, the Children ofNight or whatever.”

“Those the blokes withthe dark hoods and those blinking star-staff-things?”

“No, you’re thinkingof the Brotherhood of the Night.”

Ring-ring, ring-ring.

“Blimey,” sighedMickey, scrubbing a hand over his face; it made a not-unpleasant scritch-scratch sound against the four-day-old stubble thatsat dark on his chin. It was a good look for him, Rose thought, or at least itwould be if it wasn’t a byproduct of trying to outrun the end of the world.“Things are bad enough without all these nutcases making them worse,” hegroused.

“At least theEvangelicals never gained any traction,” said Rose. “Can you imagine what it’slike in America right now?”

“I’m trying not to.Seems like every time we come in to work, there’s another report of anotherzealot interfering with NASA business.”

“Speaking of, have youheard anything back from their people yet? We were supposed to get those suits agesago.”

“No, shipment’sdelayed while they sort out litigation issues.” Mickey grimaced. “Apparentlysome radicalist right-wing group is suing NASA on the grounds that their ‘attemptsto halt the Apocalypse interfere with sincerely-held religious beliefs’ orwhatever.”

Ring-ring, ring

“Why d’you suppose somany folks are hopping on this pro-Apocalypse bandwagon, anyway?” asked Julie.“You’d think people would want to believe in a just and merciful god, not onethat punishes without warning or reason.”

Thinking for a moment,Mickey shrugged. “Maybe it’s a control thing. Like, ‘Welp, this wouldn’t havehappened if we’d been better. We could have prevented this, we just didn’t.’Because, y’know, then it’s like the stars aren’t going out because of somerandom thing we can’t understand or control, they’re going out because we’rebad, because of things we did.”

Julie snorted. “Smellsan awful lot like narcissism to me.”

“I dunno. Maybe it’sjust less scary for people to think we earned this somehow. Like we’ve actuallygot any say in how the universe operates.”

“Yeah,” said Juliethoughtfully. Then, with a grin, “How much you want to bet those Brotherhoodtossers aren’t wearing anything under those robes?”

“Five quid,” Mickeylaughs.

“C’mon, mate. At leastmake it ten!”

“Make it twenty andyou’ve got a deal,” piped up a voice on the other end of the line, and allthree of them jumped.

Rose and Mickeyexchanged shocked glances, Mickey’s eyes as wide as Rose had ever seen them. Thatvoice—Rose knew that voice—

Was there any way itcould actually be—?

“Hullo!” said the voice, amused. “Person-you-called here. I presume you did it for a reason? I’d love to know what it is.”

Time was moving tooslow and too fast all at once.

Julie snapped to,tossing her pencil over her shoulder as she darted to her control board andgestured frantically for Rose to start talking. Heart hammering painfully inher throat, Rose yanked down her mic.

“Doctor?” she asked,breathless.

A pause. Dimly, Roseregistered the noise of chirping, quiet and echoing somewhere in her periphery,but it faded to the background in favor of the sound on the other end of theline, soft amidst the crackle of static and white noise. It was a quiet, gentlesound, like someone’s mouth falling open in surprise.

Rose held her breath. Sheswore she could feel the earth moving beneath her.

“…Rose?” asked thevoice on the other end.

With a shuddering gaspand a groan, the lights around them blinked out, plunging the room into totalpitch-blackness. Mickey swore and dropped the still-chirping stopwatch in hishaste to help Julie restore the connection or at least mitigate the damage,flipping switches and banging the side of the blasted Projector, like maybethat would turn the damn thing back on, like their illicit extra few secondsdidn’t just drain the entire city of power. At least UNIT’s generous donationsto the hospital and police station had them taken care of, with theirtop-of-the-line generators smoothly picking up the slack, but the rest of thecity wouldn’t be so lucky. Julie was already muttering angrily under her breathabout all the nasty calls she’d be getting from their bosses and the localcouncils the next day, and Mickey smacked the top of the Projector infrustration.

Rose did none of thesethings. Rose smiled.

She’d found him. She’dfound the Doctor.

Everything was goingto be all right.

***

Rose gasps awake to a dark room and a hand pushing her downgently by the shoulder.

“Easy, easy, everything’s okay, you’re okay,” sayssomeone—it’s the voice from before, a woman’s voice. Donna’s voice.

Rose blinks sleep and disorientation out of her eyes to seea woman peering down at her, her face only just visible in the soft dark.Fire-red hair peeks out beneath a thick woolen hat, and Donna pulls her jumperclose, shivering. “Been sleeping like the dead, but you’re okay,” she continueswith a reassuring pat.

“Wha’ happen?” Rose murmurs blearily.

“Well, as the Doctor put it, your takeoff was perfect, butno one lands well with their wings clipped.”

She can’t be sure she’s doing it properly, but Rose does herbest to raise an eyebrow in confusion. “Huh?”

“Ah, sorry,” Donna says, shaking her head. “Long storyshort, your machine did the job, got you across the Void and all, but you’d,well.”

She frowns. “You’d gone into shock by the time you arrived.Looks like sabotage, far as the Doctor can tell.”

Nodding, Rose presses the heels of her palms into her eyesuntil she sees stars. Bloody cultists.She should have seen that coming. She’ll have to warn Mickey and the othersbefore anyone else tries to—

Oh, god.

“Mickey!” she starts to say, shooting up in bed, but Donnajust places a hand on her shoulder again.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’ve talked to him,” Donna says,in a soothing tone of voice that would drive Rose batty were she more awake.“He knows all about the sabotage, and that you’re here, and that you’re safe.Okay?”

“’Kay,” Rose mutters, willing her heart to stop racing andlungs to stop seizing up in her chest. Slowly, she relaxes back against herpillows, drawing her duvet up close.

(Why can’t she stop shivering?Maybe it’s a side effect of the shock. She doesn’t care for it.)

“Thanks,” she adds, as an afterthought.

“Don’t mention it. Anything else I can do for you?”

Rose tries to think, and slowly, the clouds begin to clear, liketaking a broom to spiderwebs in the cupboards. She’s on the TARDIS. In bed. Inthe medbay. With Donna.

Who’s Donna, again?

“Are you the new me?” she asks, fuzzily, because words arehard right now.

Donna’s lips twitch. “Wanna try that again, blondie?”

“Sorry,” Rose chuckles, and she offers a grateful smile whenDonna hands her a cupful of water in response. Rose slowly drains the cup,shivering back down into her blankets afterward. “Thank you,” she says. “Andsorry again. I meant to say, are you the one traveling with the Doctor, now?”

“I am. Have been for a little over a year, by my reckoning.”

“Good,” says Rose softly. “I’m glad he hasn’t been alone.”

Donna takes the cup back with a smile. “He really shouldn’tbe, should he?”

“No, he shouldn’t.”

With a sage nod, Donna extends a hand for Rose to shake, andRose accepts. “I’m Donna, by the way,” she says. “And you, of course, would bethe infamous Rose.”

“Yeah. Very nice to meet you, Donna.”

“Very nice to meet you, Rose. Good to finally be able to puta face to the name—god knows you hear it often enough around here.”

Rose blinks in surprise. “Really?”

“Yes,” Donna says emphatically. “I’m sure Martha took thebrunt of it, but I still got more than my fair share of Oh, Rose would do this and Rosewould say that and Blah-blah-blah,Rose was the bestest-bestest-ever and maybe I should’ve said that her face butnow she’s gone and I’ll never get the chance so I guess I’ll be a hopelesslovesick sap instead and besides I never would have said anything anyway becauseI’ve got the emotional development of a pinecone, blah-blah-blah.”

Bewildered, Rose stares at the opposite wall, unsure of howto process this information, trying to ignore the blush that threatens to creepinto her cheeks.

“Anyway, glad to see you made it back all in one piece,”Donna breezes on. “The Doctor made it sound like there was a chance youwouldn’t have, what with the sabotage and all. Though honestly, I’m not sure ifhe was being literal or like, if he meant actual little pieces, like littletiny microscopic pieces or big wet chunky bits—bleh, that’d be a nasty mess,he’d be on his own, cleaning that one up.”

“Do you, erm,” Rose starts to ask, suddenly shy. “Do youhappen to know where he is, right now?”

“Yep.” Donna’s mouth purses into a thin line. “He’s avoidingyou.”

Rose’s shoulders droop in disappointment. “Oh.”

Maybe it’s silly, but she’d hoped for a warmer reunion, bothliterally and figuratively—nothing too extravagant, of course, just hisinfectious smile and a tight hug and maybe a hug again, maybe a few fond words,and she wouldn’t say no to a kiss, though that might be reaching—but perhapsthat was all too much to hope for, from him. He’s not like her, after all; hedoesn’t crave that connection like she does.

She just hopes he gets over this sooner rather than later.She still misses him so much she wants to scream.

With a little shake, Rose slaps on a smile she doesn’t feel,something she’s got quite good at over the last few years. “So what about you,Donna? Where are you from, what did you do before, how’d you start travelingwith the Doctor?”

“No,” Donna replies, her voice kind, but firm.

Rose’s brow wrinkles in confusion. “Sorry?”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’d love a chat later,” Donnaexplains, pushing up from her bedside chair. “I’d abso-bloody-lutely adore a chat later, haven’t had a properconversation with a woman in ages—the TARDIS is lovely and all, but she’s notmuch of a talker, and the Doctor’s no substitute, man’s worthless for anythingthat’s not alien electronics or whatever bits of history he pulls out of hisarse—but if I do that right now, I’ll be playing right into his hand, andthat’s just not gonna happen.”

“What do you mean?”

Donna sighs. “You’re still just a little bit addled, aren’tyou? Go find him, dumbo. Track him to his hidey-hole, pin him down, and makehim talk to you. And don’t let him hide behind me or anything else. Okay?”

With a slow nod of understanding, Rose releases a shakybreath. “Wow. Yeah. Okay.”

“Good.”

Donna claps her hands and the medbay lights spring onoverhead, piercing Rose’s eyes with their sharp-white glare. Ducking out ofsight, Donna returns with a laundry-basket heaped with clothes, which sheoverturns on Rose’s bed. Jumpers and mittens and thick woolen socks tumble outof the basket in an elegant landslide, covering Rose’s legs and spilling overthe edge of the bed onto the floor.

“Am I helping you with the laundry, first?” Rose asks with asmile.

“I’m sure you picked up on the fact that it’s a littlechilly in here,” explains Donna as she fishes around the clothes-pile. “That’sbecause whatever thingummy-whatsit the Doctor rigged up with thetractor-beam-doodad to help you do your jump-thing did a number on the power.”

“Aww, so you raided the wardrobe room to bring me warmthings.” Rose beams. “Lovely, thank you!”

“You’re very welcome. Might be wearing jumpers for a while,though—the TARDIS is in some sort of emergency powersave mode right now toconserve fuel. Essential functions only,the Doctor said.”

“Right, cos heat’s not an essential function or anything,”Rose laughs, plucking at a particularly vile rainbow jacket.

“God, yes,” Donna groans. She tosses Rose a pair ofmismatched but very nice plushy socks. “Yes,see, that’s what I mean! Another reasonable person onboard, another woman onboard, that’s exactly what Ineed!”

“Don’t worry, darling, she means another human woman,” Rose coos to the TARDIS,lovingly stroking a nearby coral strut.

“Oi, don’t you go rubbing bits of her, it’s bad enough thathe does it.”

“Donna just doesn’t understand, does she? It’s all right,you’re plenty woman for me.”

Donna sticks out her tongue. “Ugh. You two really are madefor each other. Gross.”

“Do you hear that? Madefor each other. Donna’s blessed our union and everything!”

“Yep, that’s exactly what I meant,” Donna laughs, tossing apair of thick-knit trousers Rose’s way. They hit her in the face with a whumph. “Now layer up and get on outthere!”

***

This time, the phonedidn’t even get a full ring in before the Doctor picked up.

“Listen,” he said, hisvoice taut, like a string pulled tight and about to snap. “I don’t know how yougot hold of this number, or how you got hold of that phone, but if this is somesort of prank or sick joke—”

“It’s not a joke,Doctor, I swear—”

“—then I will do everythingwithin my considerable power to personally ensure that you regret it—”

“—it’s me, it’s Rose,I’m calling from the other universe, but I haven’t got much time—”

“—and please believeme when I say I don’t make empty threats—”

“—please, Doctor, Ineed your help!”

The silence that fellbetween them was thick with suspicion.

“I mean, we need yourhelp,” Rose amended, her grip on her old mobile tightening until her knucklesglowed white.

Silence once again.Mickey flashed the stopwatch her way. Ninety-five seconds left.

“Please, Doctor,” saidRose. “Our universe is dying. Something’s killing us, star by star.”

More quiet. OverJulie’s shoulder, Rose glanced at the diagnostics screen, double-checking theconnection to ensure nothing cut them off, but the signal was strong, accordingto the numbers—as strong as it could be, anyway, bouncing between universes.The Doctor just wasn’t talking.

Of course, the onetime she actually needed him to run his gob. Typical.

“Look,” Rose pleaded,turning away from Mickey and Julie, as if that would offer her any extra smidgeof privacy, or maybe protection. “I can prove it’s me, yeah? The first thingyou ever said to me—this you, I mean, not the other you, the first one, myfirst one anyway, dunno how many of you there’ve been, cos—cos you haven’t goneand changed again, have you? You sound mostly the same. You’re still you, right?”

She couldn’t blame himfor not replying that time; that was a nice bit of word salad, that was. Rosecringed and pressed on.

“You’d just regenerated,after the Games Station, and—and you were going on about your hair, andBarcelona,” Rose continued, her voice low. “And then we crashed, and there wasthe bit with the fake Santas, and the Sycorax and Harriet Jones, and—and thatwas actually sort of awful what you did to her, by the way, I’ve had a good fewyears to think about it, doing the job I do, and that sort of thing gives you abit of perspective and it just wasn’t called-for, Doctor, I get why you wereangry but her decision was actually really understandable even if youpersonally disagreed with it—”

The sound of Mickeyloudly clearing his throat interrupted her, and she glanced round to see himflashing the stopwatch again. Sixty-two seconds.

“…but anyway,” Rosesaid, a little sheepish now. “I know you said this sort of thing wasimpossible, contact between different worlds, but it’s not. Not anymore.Whatever’s killing our universe is tearing holes in all of reality, and we’vegot a machine that can send signals through those holes, across the Void.That’s how I’m talking to you right now, Doctor. That’s how I’m able to ask youfor help.”

The silence quicklygrew to be unbearable. Rose checked the connection again. Would he really stayquiet this whole time? Wouldn’t he say anything?

“Please,” Rosepleaded, one last time. “Doctor, you’ve got to help.”

Now the Doctor was theone clearing his throat, but the noise was far from the impatient sound Mickeymade earlier. Rather, it sounded like he was moving something painful out ofthe way.

“Right. Yes. Ofcourse,” he said, and Rose imagined he was probably running his hand throughhis hair at that moment, mussing it even more wildly than usual. “But, erm. I’dneed more information. A lot more information. Definitely more than you couldtransmit over the course of such a brief phone call. And even then, I’m notcertain how much I can do, not being there myself.”

Rose glanced at thestopwatch in Mickey’s hand. Thirty-four seconds.

“Is there any way youcould come here?” she asked hurriedly. “Since all these holes have opened up,could you pilot the TARDIS through?”

“No.”

“Oh,” said Rose,biting her lip in worry.

“Well now, hang on aminute, there’s no reason to get all gloomy,” the Doctor protested, and here hesounded so much more like himself that Rose couldn’t decide whether to laugh orcry. “Just because one solution won’t work, doesn’t mean nothing will. Myreadings indicate too many quantum instabilities for the TARDIS to digest atthe moment, but I’ve got other things in the ol’ think-tank that could work.Big things. Important things. Big, important things.”

“Impressive things?”Rose asked with the ghost of a smile.

“Terribly impressivethings, Rose Tyler. Terribly impressive. It’s only a matter of determining allthe potential confounding variables and considering all of the resources at ourdisposal. For example, if I could procure a Void-worthy vessel, that would beneat. Or perhaps I can build one, though I’m not certain where to obtain thenecessary molecular resistance buffers this time of year…”

Mickey smacked Rose’sarm for attention, mouthing the words that were passing through Rose’s brain atthat very moment.

Dimension cannon.

“We’ve got somethingthat could work,” Rose said, nodding.

“‘Could work’?” theDoctor repeated. “Could work. Thatsounds…encouraging,” he said, in a tone that suggested it didn’t sound veryencouraging at all.

“I mean, it shouldwork. It does work. The trials wereall a huge success. The program was just put on hold for stupid administrativereasons.”

“Being?”

Eleven seconds. Rosehesitated, wasting time she knew she didn’t have.

“It’s modeled afterrecovered Cyberman tech,” she confessed.

Probably he wasscratching the back of his neck now. “Eh, not ideal, but if it’ll bring meover…”

“It will, we’ve justgot to send me first.”

“What?” the Doctorsnapped, suddenly stern. “No. No. Absolutely not.”

“Well, yeah, that’show it works—I go over there, establish a connection point, grab you, bring youback.”

“No. There’s no waythat technology is refined or stable enough to safely transport a human.”

“Excuse me, but we didall right,” Rose shot back, indignant. “I’m sorry it’s not Time Lord enough foryou, but it still does the job—”

“Rose, no.”

“Doctor, we haven’tgot time—”

The stopwatch chirpedout a warning tone and Julie slammed the kill switch, ending the call with asickening whine. Although the lights flickered queasily overhead, they didn’tblack out this time; a few shuddering gasps later, everything returned to fullpower. At least they wouldn’t be getting any nasty calls from their supervisorstomorrow.

Although if tomorrownever happened, then that would hardly matter, would it?

“Mickey,” Rose said,pulling off her headset. “How do you feel about pulling some strings and makingsome threats?”

Mickey grinned. “I feelpretty good about it.”

***

After a brief (and very cold) scrub-off in the medbayshower, and struggling (but ultimately succeeding, she’d like to point out)with leggings and stockings and a jumper, Rose accepts Donna’s help with therest of her clothes only a little reluctantly—she feels like a child, lettingDonna fuss over her, buttoning her cardigan over the jumper, pulling a slouchyknit cap down over her ears, winding Rose’s old scarf round her neck. Rose askswhere she managed to scrounge the scarf up from and Donna just tuts and wavesher off. Rose gets the distinct impression that Donna can be downrightJackielike, when she wants to be.

“At least you’re not plugged into the IV station anymore,”Donna remarks as she helps Rose step into a pair of comfy, chunky boots, lacingthem up after. “Can you imagine carting that thing all over the place?”

“How long was I out, anyway?” Rose asks, doing her resolutebest not to sway on her feet.

“Well, you know how it is—kind of difficult to tell thatsort of thing on the TARDIS. But by my best estimate—maybe thirty hours?”

“Thirty hours?” Rose repeats weakly. “I don’t know ifthey’ve got even half an hour, back home.”

Donna shoots her a reassuring smile. “Except that’s anotherthing the Doctor’s good at, taking that sort of business into account. We’vebeen floating in the Vortex this whole time—I imagine he’s planning to pop backto the very moment after you arrived, just as soon as you’re up and runningagain. Yeah?”

Of course she’s right. Rose suddenly feels quite stupid anduncertain, and uncomfortable in a way that’s surely got nothing to do with theDoctor running away, the fact that he isn’t here to tell her all of thishimself. “Yeah,” she echoes, quietly.

Donna’s face softens. “We both know it’ll be all right,don’t we? You’ll stop this thing, whatever it is. You and the Doctor both. It’swhat you do.”

Rose relaxes a little. “And you too, Donna.”

“Damn right, me too.” Pulling the boot-laces snugly, Donnastands up, brushing dust off her trousers. “Now, time to get out there and kickSpaceman’s scrawny little arse into gear. You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Rose replies.

(Which is to say, not at all.)

***

Now it was Rose’s oldmobile that rang, just seconds before Rose planned to hit the “call” button.

“Listen to me, Rose,”said the Doctor, his voice sharp with urgency. “Whatever you’re getting readyto attempt, do not do it. Do you hear me? Do not do it.”

“What, can you see usright now?” asked Mickey, frowning into his mic as he glanced around the tent,through the plastic window to the outside world, as if the Doctor may walk outof the ocean or materialize at any second from behind a rock or damp sand dune.

“In a manner ofspeaking, yes. And what you’re doing is terribly dangerous, and worse, terriblystupid.”

“It’s exactly the samething you were talking about,” said Rose. She nodded in thanks to thetechnician securing the last pieces of her spacesuit, tightening the chestplatewith a click. (The US may have been completely bonkers, but God bless NASA, shethought.) “We’ve got a Void-worthy vessel. We’re going to use the Void-worthyvessel.”

“We call it ‘thedimension cannon’,” Mickey piped up.

“Oh, lovely, adimension cannon, well. Fancy-sounding, sophisticated name like that doesn’tsound at all like something contrived out of a cheap sci-fi. But tell me, justout of curiosity: precisely how many successful runs did you complete with thiscontraption before you were shut down? Not trials, mind—runs. How many?”

“Enough,” Mickeyreplied stubbornly.

“Now there’s an answerthat inspires confidence,” said the Doctor, his voice dry. “Mickey—that isMickey, isn’t it? I can only assume you would have let Rose talk you into thisreckless venture—Mickey, under no circumstances are you to let Rose do anythingstupid, no matter what she says to you. No matter what. That technology isdangerous. It could kill her, maim her, tear her to pieces, lose her in theVoid, any number of absolutely horrendous and horrifying things. Do youunderstand me? This could get Rose killed.”

Mickey shot Rose aworried glance. Wordlessly, she looked back at him, jaw set, stance firm.Pleading. She would do this with or without his help (but of course he knewthat, he had to know that, and surely the Doctor did too); still, she wouldmuch prefer to go forth into the great dark unknown with the comfort of Mickeyhaving her back.

Besides—the last stardisappeared from the sky not half an hour earlier.

They were running outof options.

“Sorry, boss,” Mickeysays into the mic. “I trust her more than I trust you.”

The Doctor groaned infrustration. “Mickey—”

“Doctor,” Roseinterrupted firmly. “I appreciate your concern, I really do, but we’re hardlyjumping into this blindly. We’ve assembled a team of the world’s top engineers,astronomers, physicists, and experts in alien tech—including a number of actualaliens—to help design a number of machines designed to project things acrossthe Void, and the machines work. They work, Doctor. The tech may not be assophisticated as anything you’re accustomed to, but it’s functional; it’s howwe managed to call you before, why you’re able to talk to us right now.”

“A phone call ishardly the same thing as the safe transmission of human life, Rose—”

“The cannon, inparticular, is designed specifically for projecting organic material across theVoid,” Rose continued, louder now. “We’ve collaborated with NASA on a specialextravehicular mobility suit, specially designed to keep organic material safeand alive in the Void. We’ve built a launch platform at Bad Wolf Bay, where expertshave determined the walls to be the weakest between us and the Void. And ourtechs have pinpointed, down to the precise second, the best time to launchacross the Void. There’s a lot we don’t know right now, about the stars goingout, and how, and why, but we know what we need to, to get me safely to you.Yeah?”

Drawing in a deepbreath, Rose steadied herself. “Look, I know this mission isn’t without itsrisks. But we’ve calculated them, and they’re worth it. We can’t bring you overwithout establishing a connection point first; we can’t do that without me. Wemay not be Time Lords, but we’ve still done our research, and we’ve at leastgot enough brains and know-how to get us where we need to go.”

“And most importantly,we’ve got Rose,” Mickey added. “You may not believe in the tech, but youbelieve in her. Right?”

Rose imagined theDoctor gripping the edge of the TARDIS console, eyes wild and unseeing, mouthopen as he searched for the right words to stop her. She flashed Mickey atender smile.

“That’s not—that’sbeside the point,” the Doctor stuttered. “That’s not the issue here. If thatcannon isn’t perfectly calibrated, if that suit isn’t one-thousand-percentairtight, if you’ve miscalculated in any way—”

“I’ve got him,” Julieannounces from her position at the control desk. “Triangulated the TARDIS callsignal; quantum coordinate set with an error-margin of less than .004%. Readyto initiate launch whenever you are, Agent Tyler.”

“Listen, Rose—at leastlet me help, for goodness’ sake, at least give me time to calibrate some kindof collimated beam to help you land safely—”

“Agent Tyler?”

Rose looked up to findJulie watching her expectantly; she glanced round to see half the UNIT scienceteam crowded into the tent as well, watching, waiting. One of them, a mother offive whose children and partner all sat terrified at home, had chewed her nailsdown to the quick; another team member twisted his mouth in worry, and Roseknew he was thinking of his cousin, embroiled neck-deep in one of thosegodforsaken Apocalypse cults.

She couldn’t quitebring herself to meet Julie’s eyes. Everyone there knew what happened to herhusband, months before—what had happened to so many people who despaired overthe impending death of everything in the world. Everyone knew; no one daredmention it.

(He didn’t even leavea note.)

All of them stood withshoulders and fists wired to stiff tension, all of them silent, some of themstanding with eyes closed, as if in prayer, others trembling with apprehensionand worry. And perhaps just the smallest, tiniest hint of hope.

Heart thudding dullybehind her ribs, Rose stepped closer to Mickey, pulling him into a tight hug.

“I have complete faiththat we’re going to succeed,” she said, so that only he and the Doctor couldhear. “But just in case…you know how much I love you, right?”

Mickey nodded againsther head. “Love you too, babe,” he murmured, hugging her tighter.

The Doctor, of course,said nothing.

No stopwatch told Rosewhen to end the call, this time. (They didn’t even bother bringing thestopwatch, this time.)

“See you on the otherside, Doctor,” she said, hanging up before he had a chance to reply.

Swallowing hard, Rosehanded Mickey the headset. She waited patiently while Julie and the other techsscurried round to complete all their last-minute tasks, attaching her helmet,booting up the cannon, checking and double-checking and triple-checking everylast thing. Rose’s breath fogged up the inside of her helmet as she stepped outof the tent into the grey Norwegian morning, the shrieks of seagulls and crashof the waves muffled by the plastic and padding round her ears.

The beach looked everybit as depressing as the last time she saw it. Hopefully that wasn’t any sortof sign.

“Okay,” she breathed,willing her heart to slow, her nerves to calm. “I’m ready.”

***

The sight is still so familiar, it’s staggering; Rose has tobrace herself against the railing when she sees him at the console, his leanframe angled elegantly over a keyboard as he watches figures flash across oneof those monitors he’s got rigged askance all over the desk. If it wasn’t forthe shorter haircut and the ridiculously long scarf he’s got wrapped around hisneck to keep out the cold, Rose could almost believe she’d accidentally steppedback in time and arrived in the console room four years ago—at any moment, shehalf-expects the Doctor to flash her one of his brilliant grins before whiskingher away on a brand-new adventure.

He does no such thing. He’s too busy glowering at themonitor, like it wronged him. But slowly his focus shifts from the monitor, andnow he looks at Rose.

A small eternity passes in the moment they lock eyes.

Rose represses a shudder. The piercing intensity of theDoctor’s gaze knocks the breath out of her—far worse than anything she everexperienced in the Void. She suddenly has a deep appreciation for the tendencyof his enemies to back down under that stare. She can’t say she blames them.Instead she forces herself to hold his gaze, forbids her eyes from giving in tothe nigh-overwhelming desire to look him over, all over, before sprinting upthe steps to wrap her arms snug around him, reassuring herself that he’s here,with her, and he’s the same, and he’s him.

Telltale pressure burns behind her sinuses but she sets herjaw and wills the would-be tears away. She can think about all of that later—first,she’s got a mission to complete. A universe to save. She can’t let whateverfeelings she may-or-may-not-have about the Doctor get in her way of anything soimportant as that.

“I’m not sorry,” she blurts out, silently cursing herselfafter.

Arching an eyebrow, the Doctor returns to his keyboard andmonitor, back stiff. “Well, hello to you, too.”

“You still cross with me?”

His noncommittal grunt reminds her so fiercely of her firstDoctor, she aches. God, but she’s missed him, too. Rose forces herself not tobetray her nervousness, not to fidget with the hem of her cardigan.

“You would have done exactly the same thing,” she says, hervoice gentle, now. “And you know it.”

The Doctor hmphsunder his breath, and continues typing commands into the keyboard as if Roseisn’t there.

She sighs, shivering with the cold. Fine. It’s as good an opportunityas any to shuffle round the console room, absorbing all the sights, feeling thebuzz of the TARDIS beneath her soles, listening to her hum reverberating in thewalls. It’s pitched a little higher than usual, like the TARDIS is happy to seeher again; the feeling is mutual. Happiness floods Rose, filling her chest likethe golden glow from the central column, and she places a hand on a coralstrut, almost reverently this time, resting her forehead against it, after.

She draws in a deep breath, like she could fill her lungswith the TARDIS’ joy. She was starting to fear she’d never feel that again;Rose has never been more happy to be wrong.

Standing back, Rose sends her fingers traveling over thesandpaper-rough coral down to the handrail, and she follows the handrail up tothe landing, to the creaky old leather jumpseat, running a hand along itsstitches and tears. Sitting sounds marvelous, all of a sudden (thirty hours’worth of sleep, how is she still so tired?), so Rose turns round, braces herhands against the seat and tries to hoist herself up. Of course, her shakingarms and quivering legs have other ideas, and the next thing she knows, she’sslipped half an inch and suddenly the Doctor is at her side, hands steadyingher by the waist.

(She has a flash-memory of a dip on New Earth and the newDoctor pulling her upright, pulling her close; her face mere inches from his, shefeels every bit as lightheaded and disoriented now as she did back then.)

“Hullo,” she says quietly, smiling.

The Doctor does not smile. “Why didn’t you just listen tome?”

“Ooh, look, we match,” says Rose, reaching down to fiddlewith the Doctor’s scarf. She pulls the ends up to hers, and frowns. “Yours ismuch longer, though. That’s rubbish. I want a lovely long scarf.”

“Are you even listening to me right now?”

“Hmm-mm.” Rose plays with the tails of his scarf, rollingthe knit hem between her fingers. “So let’s skip whatever squabbling you havein mind and go straight to the happy reunion, yeah? Hey Doctor, long time no see, fancy helping me save the universe?”

His mouth pinches into a thin line. “You could have died,Rose.”

“Didn’t, though. Doesn’t that count for something?”

The Doctor laughs mirthlessly, stowing his hands in hispockets. “Yes, I suppose it does, in much the same way that one should begrateful for surviving a round of Russian Roulette.”

“False equivalency,” Rose replies.

Opening his mouth to argue, the Doctor suddenly stops,blinks in surprise.

“What? I do read. Andanyway, it wasn’t like that at all. Donna told me about the sabotage attempt.”

“Yes, turns out your ultra-fancy, specially-designed,supposedly airtight NASA suit wasn’t so airtight after all. Though that was, asyou mentioned, the byproduct of sabotage rather than an inherent design flaw,” theDoctor admits, if a bit grudgingly.

“Yeah, and it sounds like things would have gone off withouta hitch, otherwise,” Rose says. “So why don’t you tell me the real reason you’recross?”

Glancing away, the Doctor sighs. “It was just an unnecessaryrisk is all.”

“I dunno, the survival of my universe seems pretty necessaryto me.”

“But it isn’t the only reason you leapt at the chance tocome back here, is it?”

He won’t meet her gaze when he says it. Rose stubbornlylooks him in the face anyway.

“No,” she admits. “It isn’t.”

Eyes sliding shut, the Doctor shakes his head.

“I missed you,” Rose says, despite the anxiety flutteringwildly in her stomach, urging her to bottle these feelings back up before they getthemselves bruised. “So I did what I had to, to get back. Is that really sostupid?”

“It’s not,” he replies, softly. “But it seems grotesquelyunfair, or cruel, even, to expose me to the possibility of experiencing such aloss all over again.”

Guilt prickles at the back of Rose’s mind, and somethingelse, too, some indescribable feeling so big and overwhelming she has to purseher lips tight to hold it back. Tears begin welling up behind her eyes againand her toes curl in her boots with the effort of damming them.

“Well, at least I tried,” she bites out. “I’m sorry if that’sa problem for you.”

Tensing, the Doctor draws back, ready to walk away; panicthudding dully in her ears, Rose stops him with her hands on his chest.

“Please don’t go,” she murmurs. Her hands slip beneath thetails of his scarf to wrap around his jacket lapels, holding on tight. Bowingher head, she steps close, so close she can feel the warmth of her breathtrapped between them. She tightens her hold. “Please,” she says again,swallowing.

He doesn’t reply. But at least he doesn’t try to turn awayagain. That seems like a good sign at least. He still won’t look at her,though.

“God, this isn’t at all how I thought this would go,” Roseconfesses to the Doctor, or rather to his chest, laughing shakily. “I thought—Idunno.” She runs her fingers along the coils of his scarf, plucking at a loosethread. “Thought I’d at least get a hug, or something. You know?”

The Doctor hesitates. Slowly, as if every atom in his bodyis resisting, screaming at him not to give in, he wraps his arms around Rose,the movement stiff and odd and almost painfully formal.

“Mm, yeah, that’s the stuff,” Rose says dryly, and she’srewarded by the Doctor rolling his eyes before he tightens his arms around her,pulling her in for a proper hug.

It’s—

She stifles a gasp.

It’s all really happening, isn’t it?

His arms wrap around her exactlythe way they used to, fists curling against her ribcage and drawing her in snugand close and just short of uncomfortably tight, and her arms snake beneath hisand cling to him just as hard; Rose buries her face in his scarf, breathing himin, and the nostalgia and hurt and longing and grief just wash over her inwaves, buffeting her like a buoy out at sea. The Doctor feels just how sheremembers, wiry and lean but solid, his double-heartsbeat against her chestbeating out a rhythm both alien and immensely comfortable, and he still smellsthe same, that quiet almost-not-smell of home, and the wool of his suit clingsto the whorls of her fingertips precisely the way she recalls; for some reason,that’s the thing that breaks the dam of her tears, bringing them pearlinguncontrollably in the corners of her eyes.

(The truth strikes her like an electric shock. She made it. She finally made it. She’s here, theDoctor’s here, and he’s cross with her but they’re together, he’s hugging herand he’s not going away and she’s not going away and he’s solid and his suit isscratchy and he cares about her and he’s holding her and he’s real.)

“I really, really missed you,” Rose confesses, and she’strying not to let the tears fall, she’s really trying, but she’s just so tiredand the effort of holding back means she’s shaking now, violently, harder andharder by the second. She buries her face against his scarf, like maybe she canhide it from him, like if she burrows deep enough, he won’t notice. Butsomething in him seems to loosen; Rose can feel him unwinding a little, even ashe tightens his grip on her. Now the hug truly is uncomfortable, but she’s notabout to tell him that.

She’s just tired, she tells herself. That’s the only reasonthe tears won’t stop and the hug is hard enough to hurt. It’s got nothing to dowith anything else, not the emotion forming a lump in her chest, not the Doctorpressing his face into her hair. Nothing else at all.

“I, erm. Don’t suppose you missed me?�� Rose sniffs, despiteherself.

The Doctor chuckles sadly. “Don’t suppose I did.”

“Not at all?”

“Not even a little bit.”

With a small, watery grin, Rose draws back to look at him. “Liar,”she says softly.

The Doctor nods, his smile just as pale as hers. “It’s goodto see you again, Rose. It’s really good.”

“Yeah. You too.”

At that, the Doctor lets out a slow exhale, leaning forwardto press his forehead against Rose’s, their bodies so close that Rose can feelthe space between them buzzing. It would be quite easy, no effort at allreally, to push up on her toes and press a kiss to his lips, if she wanted. Hereaches up to touch her face, touch her hair, cup her cheek, like he’sreassuring himself she’s real; the gestures are so uncharacteristically sweetand sincere that it makes Rose ache. But things will go back to normal againsoon enough, she knows—normal for them, anyway—back to the silly and the scaryand the ridiculous and the words-nearly-said and feelings-barely-hidden. So fornow, Rose’s eyes flutter shut, and she loses herself in the moment, thealmost-sacred quiet closeness of it.

It’s good to be home.

After a moment, Rose pulls back, thumbing away the last ofher tears. “So,” she says, grabbing the Doctor’s scarf to dab her cheeks dryafterward, “ready to go save the world?”

“Don’t you think you should finish resting up first?”

Rose wrinkles her nose. “No, ta. Thirty hours’ sleep isplenty for me.”

“Eh, technically it was twenty-nine hours and eighteenminutes.”

“All right, twenty-nine hours and eighteen minutes, then,”Rose laughs, pulling out of the Doctor’s arms. “Still, I think I’ve restedplenty—”

And of course, as if they were only waiting for theopportunity, that’s the moment her knees choose to turn to jelly. Rose doesn’teven have time to shout out in alarm before the Doctor grabs her by the waistagain, pulling her upright.

“I’m fine,” Rose insists, even as her body trembles andshivers. (Stupid, treacherous body.)

“Uh-huh,” says the Doctor, eyebrow cocked in amusement. Heloops one of her arms around his shoulders. “Come on, you’re not going to doanyone any good falling all over the place,” he says, urging her along. “Let’sget you back to the medbay.”

“I can still save the world while falling over,” Roseprotests as she shuffles alongside him.

“Oh, undoubtedly, but it’s hardly dignified. Time to rest.Doctor’s orders.”

“This is why no one likes doctors,” Rose grumbles, and that’swhen, with a sigh heavy in resignation, the Doctor stops walking, leaving Roselurching in her tracks. He stoops low to sweep her legs out from under her,scooping her up bridal-style after; Rose gives a little shriek and clings tohis neck as he walks off with her, a smug grin playing across his face.

“Cheater,” says Rose, and his grin widens.

***

She’s surprised when they stop several doors short of themeday, at the library; the Doctor claims it’s only because she’s so heavy, andchuckles at the halfhearted smack she delivers to his shoulder. In any case, heinsists, he’s probably long overdue for a bit of a rest himself, as Donna hasbeen all-too-happy to remind him, and why not kill two birds with one stone? (“Notthat I’ve got anything in particular against birds, not like they can help itthat they’re germ-ridden little disease bombs,” the Doctor says.)

They reach the library settee, one of Rose’s favorite placesto lounge once upon a time; her heart swells with fondness for the Doctor andhis eidetic memory and his wonderful ship, and once more she’s filled with thatsense of time-traveler’s déjà vu, that lovely feeling like she’s stepped backinto the past and transcended the years and distance between them. When theDoctor moves to deposit Rose, her grip on him tightens just a little—partly it’sa hug, partly a silent request not to let go. Admittedly she feels a littlesilly and needy doing it, clinging to him like a child or a desperate lover,but afterward, the Doctor seems to change his mind, turning round to plunkhimself down on the settee instead, Rose still in his arms.

(Hmm. Maybe she’s not the only one who’s just a littleclingy, then.)

Settling Rose’s legs over his lap, the Doctor leans over tosnatch a blanket off a nearby chair—it’s blush-pink and ridiculously soft, certainlynot something he would have chosen; Rose wonders if Donna brought it onboard—andhe wraps it around Rose, tucking it in at the corners. He procures the sonic fromhis pocket and switches on the telly before nestling back, resting comfortablyin his old spot on the settee with one arm round Rose’s waist, the otherresting casually atop her legs. Casually, like it hasn’t been four years sincethe last time they watched telly together, like this is still part of theeveryday, for them.

Later, Rose thinks she’ll have to tease him for being so domestic. Now, she snuggles close,arching upward just long enough to plant a kiss on his cheek. She does itquickly, before she can think better of it. After, she pulls back, nervous,biting her lip in uncertainty.

Of course the Doctor doesn’t say anything (he never doeswhen he should, does he?) but his Adam’s apple bobs nervously and he squeezesher waist. And when she buries her face against his neck, her cheeks burning,he hums deep in his chest, a pleased little sound.

It’s nice, all cozied up together like this. It’s the firsttime Rose has felt warm in months.

“So tomorrow, we save the world?” she asks.

The Doctor nods, eyes fixed on the telly screen and whatevernonsense is playing across it. “Tomorrow,” he says softly.

***

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khaelisfics · 7 years ago

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Chapters: 17/18 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler Summary:

The Doctor finds a way to get Rose back where she belongs: with him, in the Tardis. But nothing comes for free in the universe, especially not the impossible. Rose finds out the hard way the price to pay is his own life. Time is running out, but Rose remembers that nothing is impossible when it comes to the Doctor.

And she's not one to let fate decide.

[Prompt | Doomsday Fix-It | The Doctor brings Rose back]

@doctorroseprompts & @timepetalscollective

One more chapter left after this one and this story will finally be completed *cries* Plenty of moutain-heavy angst and one Dark!Doctor in this chapter - but don’t worry, I didn’t lie about the happy ending! I hope you’ll like it! :-)

He couldn’t remember why life energy was dancing around his body, or why his cells were blazing, or why his mind was floating above his head, waiting to return to safety - and that was probably why his memory was in a jumble. I will not regenerate . That was the only thought he could hear and he used it as an anchor, to fight off the waves of powerful energy that swept across his weak carcass, to hold back the urge his muscles and organs had to metamorphose, to try and tug on the tendrils of his soul to rein it in. Regenerations hurt. Struggling against one hurt even more.

#doctorroseprompts #timepetalsprompts #ficandchips #ten x rose #doomsday fixit #happy ending #angst #fluff #tenth doctor #rose tyler #bamf #almost there #one more chapter #emotions #<3

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blueboxesandtrafficcones · 7 years ago

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Hope

First entry for @doctorroseprompts 31 Days of Ficmas! My goal is to have a chapter each day.

2017, Day 1

31 Days of Ficmas Masterlist

Smutty Doomsday fixit. Meets @dwsmutfest‘s July prompt of ‘up against a white wall’. Tagging @timepetalsprompts because I’m shameless badass Rose Tyler knows what she wants (and it’s the Doctor).

AO3

“Hold on! Rose, please, hold on!” he screamed, clinging to his clamp with one hand, desperately reaching for her with the other.

“I am holding on!” she hollered back, fighting to keep her grip against the powerful suction of the void.

He could only watch, terrified, feeling the timelines shifting around them and in a bolt of precognizance saw two clear paths ahead. On one, she somehow ended up in Pete’s World with her mother and Mickey. There, she fought her way home only to return there, living out a human life as he moved on without her, forever running. On the other…

As he looked down the other timeline, he saw laughter and love, a single life shared. In the back of his mind he heard a wolf howl, and just as he watched Rose’s fingers slip the void closed itself, the wind dying instantly as they both slammed to the ground.

“Rose!” He stumbled to her, half drunk on fear as he felt the timelines settle around him.

“I’m here. I’m here,” she kept repeating, shaking as she stared at the white wall. His vision split momentarily, seeing two Roses – the one next to him staring blankly, and another, beating at the wall sobbing, “Take me back!”

Shivering against the close call he pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she began to cry.

“You’re here, Rose, we’re together. It’s okay, it’s okay,” he soothed her, raining kisses to the top of her head as he locked his arms around her, keeping her safe.

“I want you,” she blurted, looking up at him with wide, still-panicked eyes.

“Course, love, soon as we’re home,” he promised, but she wasn’t having it.

Backing him up against the wall she dropped to her knees in front of him, scrambling to undo his belt and zip.

“Rose-” he protested feebly as she jerked his trousers and pants down to his knees. Sliding her mouth over him, she sucked him to full strength as she fought her own trousers. Once he was ready she rose, sliding them and her knickers down only as far as necessary, working one leg free as she backed against the wall, pulling him around to face her.

“Now,” she commanded, and unable to deny her anything the Doctor obeyed, hooking one elbow under her knee to open her to him before sliding home, having to trust she was ready.

She was.

Groaning at the feel of her, he paused once fully seated. Rose only allowed him a moment, though, before she pulled one of his earlobes into her mouth, sucking at it for a few moments. Letting it go she whispered, “Fuck me, Time Lord.”

Needing to move against her, to know that this was real he obeyed, pulling almost all the way out but not letting them separate. Burying his face in the crook of her neck he started a frantic rhythm, hips pushing hers into the wall with every thrust.

A small part of his mind knew they would both be sore and bruised from this tomorrow, but the larger part that had seen him leave this room alone suggested it shut up.

It was over quickly, the adrenaline, fear and excitement still coursing strong through their veins. He came only moments after she did, and their loud cries faded to soft moans.

Panting harshly against her, he managed to mutter, “You know UNIT’ll be here any minute, right?”

“Mhmm.” Breathing heavily, Rose rested her head against the wall, not even wincing when he pulled out, digging up a handkerchief in his pocket to clean them up. “Can we go home?”

“Yeah, course,” he agreed, wondering if she meant the TARDIS or Jackie’s flat. He knew the loss of her mother would hit her soon, but wanted her somewhere safe before that happened.

“And then tomorrow go to the flat?” She only looked at him when he started to put her clothing back to right, taking over automatically.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Sighing, she laced their hands together, leading him out of the room and down the many flights to the TARDIS.

Much later, after showers, food, a good long cry for Rose, and another shag, the Doctor sat up in bed, fingers combing through Rose’s hair. Exhausted from the day she was fast asleep, peacefully so for now. He was ready if that changed, however, and had promised not to let bad dreams interfere.

Watching her rest next to him the Doctor shuddered, finally allowing himself to feel the terror and horror of the day. From the moment he realized what Torchwood was, he’d been angry, and the Cybermen had been bad enough, but the rage he’d felt at seeing the Daleks, especially in the same room as Rose, had sent him over the edge.

The rest of the day was a blur as the stakes rose and that storm drew ever closer. He honestly didn’t understand how it had come to this, how he had come so close to losing everything. He’d actually been excited for this trip, happy to come see Jackie and tell her their tales. Their relationship had improved greatly since he regenerated, and her fierce loyalty against Elton and L.I.N.D.A. had cemented his acceptance of her.

The storm had passed now; he could feel it. That didn’t mean there wouldn’t be others, that the universe didn’t have more up his sleeve, but he sensed that this was the linchpin in their entire future.

The fact that they did have a future at all amazed him, and he understood now that Bad Wolf had only been silenced, that it still lurked within her.

Only time would tell.

As the fear leached out, some far stranger, light feeling took its place. As Rose rolled over, throwing an arm across his lap as she buried her nose in his thigh, it grew, until it shined so brightly that it washed away all of the shadows hidden in his hearts, at least momentarily.

Finally putting a name to it, he threw his head back as he began to laugh.

Hope.

He was feeling hope.

In that moment, a memory flashed of something he knew Rose had said, though he was just as sure she’d never uttered the words.

You know the sound the TARDIS makes? That wheezing, groaning? That sound brings hope wherever it goes.

That strange Rose was wrong. It wasn’t the TARDIS that brought hope; it was her. Her compassion spurred his, until they felt they could accomplish anything together.

The Doctor and Rose Tyler, in the TARDIS.

Where they were meant to be.

#bbatcfic #timepetalscollective #doctorroseprompts #dwsmutfest #ficandchips #Doctor Who #10xrose #10th doctor #rose tyler #31 Days of Ficmas #hope for a happy tomorrow #doomsday fixit #oohlala #31 Days of Ficmas 2017

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natural--blues · 7 years ago

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The April Fool

Fandom: Doctor Who Pairing: Rose x Ten Baby!fic, Time lady!Rose, Doomsday rewrite. The Doctor unable to return turns out to be a horrid prank.

AO3

-------------------------------------------

Last night I had a dream. Rose. I heard a voice and it was calling my name. Rose. Rose. Rose. I had a dream. I told Mum, and Dad, and Mickey. Anyone else would think I was mad. But not those three. They believed it because they’ve met the Doctor. So they listened to the dream. He was calling me and that night, we packed up, got into dad’s old Jeep, and off we went. Mum cried the entire time she packed my duffel. She said she knew that I had never belonged there. She said she understood it even more when I’d gotten shot at Torchwood, by a bullet that had meant to be a rubber round, but was instead live. It hit me in the heart, and I was on the ground, choking on my own blood.

It was the best and worst feeling of my life. I was going to die. It was a certainty that I’ve never before experienced with anything else in life. They’d called Mum and Dad to say goodbye, but instead, the light energy still latent in my dna, missed by the Doctor, came to life and lit me ablaze in the longest and shortest shock of my life. I’d seen this, when I’d been Bad Wolf. I’d become this.

Mum’d had kittens when she heard.

The medic had informed her, after a full workup, that I had two hearts. Multiple stomachs. That everything was healthy still… that my body had known how to protect….

She’d always known that I was going to become an alien and run off with the Doctor. Now, here was my chance, sad as she was, she was also happy knowing I wouldn’t have to watch everyone I love grow old and die before me – not alone, anyhow.

We followed the voice across the water, kept on driving hundreds and hundreds of miles, because he was calling.

Rose.

Rose walked alone across the windswept beach, duffel in hand, remembering the last time she’d tossed it at the Doctor, laughingly telling him that he was stuck with her, now. There she was, at last…. and she’d have to tell him the story of how she’d died. He’d hate it, for sure. An image of the Doctor appeared in front of her, startling her from her revierie.

“Where are you?” she asked, fearing his response. Fearing letting go of all of her newfound hope.

“Inside the Tardis.” His voice was so grim….

Inside the Tardis….. he’s going to say he can’t come and get me…. I’m damned to live here and watch them all wilt…

“There’s only one tiny little gap in the Universe left, just about to close, and it takes a lot of power to send this projection. I’m in orbit around a supernova. I’m burning up a sun just to say goodbye.”

The words were like a shot. She knew then, that the best course of action would be to lie to him, tell him everything was fine, that she was happy…. but she couldn’t…. could she?

“You look like a ghost…” she murmured.

“Hold on,” he responded, and the sound of the sonic was something she’d missed so much.

“C…. can… I…?” she reached, but his instant negative response made her flinch and stop.

“I’m still just an image…. no touch.”

Yeah, boy, doesn’t that sound like when we first met…?

“Can’t you come through properly?”

We’ll never be together…

“The whole thing would fracture. Two universes would collapse.” I’m losing everything. It feels like my universe is collapsed anyhow.

“So?” she joked bitterly.

I have to be strong for him. I should….

“Where are we? Where did the gap come out?”

“We’re in Norway.”

“Norway. Right.”

“About fifty miles out of Bergen. 50.17 miles, to be exact. It’s a town called Dårling Ulv Stranden.”

“Dalek?” “Dårlig. The A with a small circle above it, makes the ‘aw’ sound. It’s Norwegian for Bad. It translates as Bad Wolf Bay.” He nodded, and she felt prompted to say anything.

“How long….?” she could barely get the words out, tears streaking her face.

“Two minutes….” she could hardly hear him over the water rushing sound in her ears. Her mum was crying softly in the background. She’d never wanted this life for her girl….

“I can’t think of what to say…” she laughed a bit, nervously.

“You’ve still got Mr. Mickey then?”

“There’s five of us now. Mum, Dad, Mickey and the baby.” it rolled off her tongue so automatically.

“You’re not?!”

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit….

“Oh no, it’s mum. She’s three months gone. More Tylers on the way.” Had the Doctor seen the look of abject horror and confusion on Jackie’s face, he would have seen through the lie.

“And what about you? Are you–”

“Yeah, I’m back working in the shop.”

“Oh, good for you…”

“Shut up. No I’m not. There’s still a Torchwood on this planet. It’s open for business. I think I know a thing or two about aliens.”

Jackie’s loud snort and Mickey’s cough were thusly ignored, although the Doctor did raise an eyebrow.

“Rose Tyler…” he said her name with so much affection. It reminded her of the way he said it when they made love, when he kissed all along her body, when he gasped it into her ear and mind when he came.

“Defender of the Earth. You’re dead, officially, back home. So many people died that day and you’ve gone missing. You’re on a list of the dead. Here you are, living a life, day after day. The one adventure I can never have.”

“Am I ever going to see you again?”

“You can’t.”

She crumbled. “What are you going to do?”

He was putting on a front. He kept biting his lips, trying to keep his face brave for her. “Oh. I’ve got the Tardis. Same old life, last of the Time Lords.”

“On your own…..” she breathed. Just say it, you idiot. Last chance. “I…. I love you….”

The look in his eyes was shocked to the teeth, and he looked like he was struggling to form words for a moment. “Quite right too… And, I suppose, if it’s one last chance to say it, Rose Tyler, I…”

The Tardis vanished, and she collapsed to the beach, sobbing. Jackie ran to her daughter, throwing her shoes off to get a better grip on the sand.

“You can’t get so upset, it’s not good for the–” she was cut off by the sounds of the Tardis.

The Tardis was solid this time, and she looked at him in shock as he exited, smiling wildly. “Happy April Fools Day!” he announced, as though he’d just pulled a rabbit out of a hat.

His smile took on a confused and strained look, and then he finally gave up the ghost. “Rose….”

She was breathing heavily, trying to control the urge to let him bloody have it mixed with her body recovering from shock and the worst sadness of her life. This was where her mum took over, pinging rocks at him from the beach left and right, that he struggled to dodge, both hands up in defense.

“BLOODY. TIME. LORD. ARSEHOLE! YOU! DO! NOT! DO! THAT! KIND! OF! PRANK!”

He tried to take Rose into his arms, getting winged by sand dollars by Jackie when Rose swung at him. She barely missed.

Even Mickey shook his head at him. “Some bits don’t even begin to be appropriate, Doctor. You can’t joke about this sort of bit. Pregnancy pranks, death pranks, screamers, and breakup pranks. They’re literally not okay.”

“Oh….” he murmured, looking confused. “They were appropriate on Xylon 5. Prank capital of the Universe….”

“Earth, mate. You should know.”

Rose’s lip quivered, and he felt like the biggest bastard in the universe. He reached for her, and she sobbed in his arms, as he spun her around.

“I thought I’d have to spend forever without you….” she hiccupped, and he shook his head.

“I’m sorry. I thought you’d figured me out…. what with that whole bit about the shop….”

“N…. no…”

He shushed her, holding her tightly.

“I’m…. s’me…. I’m pregnant….”

“You don’t have to do a joke in reverse, Rickey just said that those pranks aren’t appropriate.”

Mickey flipped him the bird.

“S’not a joke….” she whimpered, unable to handle much more emotional drainage today.

He suddenly felt it, felt exactly what she was, and then felt the life blooming, once he had begun paying attention. “Y…. you….. we…. oh, Rose….”

His tears came without prompt, and she gave him a watery smile. “I told you…. forever…. I jus’ really, really meant it….”

He held her tightly, and after a few apologies and goodbyes to Jackie and everyone else – ‘YOU HAD BETTER MARRY HER’ screamed in his ear – he took off with the love of his life, the holes in the universes closing as soon as he left.

“I’m just saying,” he kept trying, feeling guiltier and guiltier by the second. He’d pretend permanently broken up with the mother of his child. Who was now a Time Lady, who would have had to outlive everyone… oh, he was space rubbish… “It seemed funny at the time. I thought we’d have a laugh.”

“It wasn’t funny. It was dreadful.”

“I’m rubbish at pranks, Rose, I’m so sorry–”

“Make it up to me?”

He was about to ask her how, when he caught the hidden meaning and grinned, widely. Oh yes. He would.

—————————————

A few hours of rowdy lovemaking, one telepathic bond, and a mug of tea later, Rose sat on his lap, on the jumpseat, wearing only his shirt and a pair of knickers and socks. He was honestly up for round four, at this point, nuzzling into her neck and repeating his promise to never do that type of prank again.

“I, The Doctor, do solemnly swear…”

“To never again perform a prank that makes people cry…”

“Or to act like such a penisgoblin about it….”

“Or to act like su– such a what? A penis what?”

“Ahem.”

“Or to act like such a penisgoblin abou— really, Rose, a penisgoblin? What even is a penis goblin?”

“Doctor….”

“….Or to act like such a penisgoblin about it….”

“Forever and ever and ever, the end.”

“Forever and ever and ever, I love you Rose Tyler, the end.”

She giggled, and nuzzled him. “Forgiven.”

He sighed in relief. “I just didn’t know what sort of prank would be funny– ”

A redhead in a wedding dress appeared, and began flipping out.

“Apparently…. neither does the Tardis….” Rose murmured, blinking as the redhead threw her jacket across the room.

#ten x rose #ficandchips #baby!fic #time lady!rose #doomsday fixit

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loupettes · 2 years ago

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V I C T O R I O U S

SUMMARY: A storm's approaching, he had said. When the storm finally reaches them later that evening, Rose realises that the Doctor beside her might not be the Doctor she knows him to be. Ten/Rose

TAGS: angst, hurt/comfort, romance, stargazing, post 2.11 Fear Her, post 2.13 Doomsday, time lord victorious

Read on AO3: victorious

“I never apologised,” he said unexpectedly. “For Mickey.”

She frowned, because it wasn’t exactly his fault. And she would have told him so, except it looked as though he was really, truly admitting fault. But to admit fault in Mickey’s decision to leave meant that it wasn’t entirely his decision; he was pushed away. By her, by them.

By him.

“Mickey left because he wanted to,” she dismissed, fiddling with the ball of socks that she realised had since turned warm and sweaty in her palms. “He’s a big boy. He doesn’t let anyone make him do anything he doesn’t want to do.” He seemed to consider it, and, as he did, she frowned. “Besides… you told me parallel worlds were sealed off.”

“Yes, because I sealed them off.”

“Right. And you couldn’t just, I dunno, open them back up again,” she reminded him.

But it was truly dreadful that she almost even asked. It wasn’t like she spent her nights dreaming about Mickey, wanting to see him, but was that only because she knew she never could?

The Doctor seemed to catch her uncertainty, and he was watching her carefully. When he spoke next, it was uneven.

“What if I could?”

Things had… shifted. They didn’t seem to be talking about a hypothetical question anymore; he seemed like he was genuinely asking her.

R E A D O N A O 3

#is this #is this FIC #is this a doomsday fixit #who knows #loup.fic #dw fic #tenth doctor #rose tyler #ten x rose #fic and chips #doctor who

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kelkat9 · 7 years ago

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An Ode to Hope

Title: An Ode to Hope (Chapter 13/14 or 15)

Author: @kelkat9

Pairing: Ten/Rose

Genre: Post Doomsday/Angst/Separation/Reunion/Babyfic

Warnings: Dark Ten or TLV Ten (Part 3)

Summary: Rose lost the Doctor at Canary Wharf. Due to a cruel universe he was swept away to Pete’s World while she endures in her home universe. But even in her darkest hour, hope blooms in the form of friends who come to her aid and offer strength and encouragement. And Rose needs all she can get when she learns the Doctor left a gift behind neither of them expected. Pregnant and desperate, Rose finds a way to send a message to him. Suffering from loss of Rose and his TARDIS and on the cusp of madness, the Doctor has his own group of friends determined to see he and Rose reunited. And if one equally pregnant Jackie Tyler has her way, the universes can sod off so family can be reunited.

Notes: Please read the notes before chapter one. Time War angst this chapter and the team comes together whether or not the Doctor wants the help

#Kelkat9 #Ten x Rose #Doomsday fixit #reunion #babyfic #angst #romance #Time War stuff #some Dark Ten #Team TARDIS for the win

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ebdaydreamer · 7 years ago

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The Old Team

For Doomsday Month. @doctorroseprompts ‘ Jack, as a member of Torchwood Three, finds out what’s going on at Canary Wharf and warns the Doctor, who fixes it earlier’

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: Rose/Ten

Warnings: N/A

A/N: Still completely unedited and un-beta’d. This one is a lot longer and doesn’t focus much on what happens in Doomsday but it’s my first time writing Jack and this is what came to mind.

[AO3]

The Doctor was bored. Very bored. Dangerously bored. It wasn’t unusual for them to stay a week at her mum’s, but the fact she spent every second with her was clearly driving him bananas. Jackie had banned him from tinkering around the flat long ago, and for some reason he wasn’t going back to the TARDIS during the day.She could kinda understand: since they both stopped being idiots about their feelings they’d spent very little time apart, and it was worse after their trip to the Krop Tor. Hell, she didn’t think he’d been more than six feet away from her since then - not that she blamed him; not that she was protesting.

But the day before they were due to leave suddenly got very interesting.

“Would you one of you get the bloody door?” Jackie called from the shower, in response to the very loud knocking.

Sighing, Rose untangled herself from the Doctor and opened the door, freezing when she saw who was on the other side.

“If it isn’t Rose Tyler?” the American voice she hadn’t heard in nearly a year cooed.

Rose gaped, “Jack? How-” Before she could say anything else, she was swept up into a big hug.

“God, is it good to see you!” he cheered, setting her down. “So, where is he?”

The Doctor chose that moment to step forward and the men regarded each other reservedly.

“Doctor,” Jack nodded.

“Captain,” he replied.

“Good to see you,” Jack stated, though a little coldly, and Rose felt her head spinning trying to figure out what the hell was going on or if she’s just having an insane dream.

“And you,” the Doctor returned, jaw clenched in what appeared to be discomfort, though he was putting on a brave face. “Same as ever. Although…” he squinted, and Rose tried to focus on what was probably the most normal thing to happen in the past two minutes, “have you had work done?”

Jack's face dropped completely. “You can talk!”

The Doctor looked mildly confused, and Rose finally found some words that weren’t incoherent questions. “Your face, Doctor. You’ve regenerated.”

“Oh!” he nodded vigorously. “Yes, right. Thanks, love.”

Jack raised a brow at her, but swiftly turned back to the Doctor. “Care to tell me why you abandoned me on that Game Station ankle deep in Dalek dust?”

“Abandoned?” Rose turned round on the Doctor. “You said he chose to stay behind! You said he was rebuilding the Earth!”

The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes, well, right, I suppose I should explain.”

“Please do, unless you’re not planning on sleeping tonight.”

So the Doctor explained everything: what happened to Jack, how it happened, why he left and why it couldn’t be reversed (he and Rose had spoke briefly about Bad Wolf already).

“Jack… I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“Hey,” he said, wrapping an arm around her. “It’s ok, Rosie. You saved me because you actually care about my worthless ass - that, that means a lot to me.” He handed her a tissue as tears leaked down her face. “I was mad about him leaving, and I just wanted answers.”

“How did you find us?” the Doctor piped up.

Jack slung his bag off is back. “With this.”

It hit the table with a loud thud, making Jackie look up from where she was making tea, “Oi! Watch it!”

“Sorry,” Jack winced, but everyone had become entranced by his package.

“Oh my god...is that?”

“That’s mine!”

Jackie stared at him. “‘S what?”

“My hand!” the Doctor squeaked. “What do you think you’re doing, running around with Time Lord DNA like that?”

“It’s my Doctor-tracker.”

“I’m sorry, how is THAT your hand? Was it left over from big ears?”

“What?” Rose tore her eyes away from the hand in a jar, “from Christmas Day?”

“How did you even get the technology for that?” the Doctor asked, pulling his brainy specs on and studying the jar.

“I have a team,” Jack began ominously. “We’re part of an organisation called Torchwood. We’re Torchwood Three.”

“Hang on, where have I heard that before?” Rose pondered.

The Doctor glanced at her, “That house in Scotland, that was called Torchwood.” He turned back to Jack, “Who are they? How come I’ve never heard of them?”

“My team’s only small,” Jack explained, “we’re a little...kinder than Torchwood One. Their motto ‘if it’s alien, it’s ours’, and they seemed to be pretty interested in you, Doc.”

“Well,” Rose butted in, “if the whole organisation is based off the time we made Queen Victoria not amused.”

The Doctor chuckled, “I still owe you that tenner.”

“Anyway,” Jack interrupted, “they’re up to something, I can tell. I need your help looking into to them. Whaddya say? The ol’ team back together?”

“Idiots, absolute idiot’s!” the Doctor ranted as they slumped into Jackie’s flat, chips in hand. “‘Ghost shifts’ - what the hell is that? In what universe is that a good idea?”

“I mean, I kinda see the appeal,” Jack replied, munching on a chip, “But stupid to mess with things they don’t understand. I’m just glad we sent those few Cybermen and that ship back into the void before anything else unwanted could get through.”

“What do you reckon was in there, Doctor?” Rose asked, one hand in his, the other stuffing more chips into her mouth.

“Dunno,” he shrugged. “Could’ve been anything - likely nothing good.” He paused, eyes glazing over in thought. “Still; gone now.”

“Torchwood One is done for after that,” Jack grinned. “Me and my team should get a bit more freedom now - and we’re gonna do it in your honour, Doc.”

The Doctor smirked, trying to come off as smug, but Rose knew he was actually chuffed.

“So you’re not gonna come with us then, Jack?”

“I’m sure the TARDIS has saved your room,” the Doctor added. “I quite fancy near future, say...London 2012 Olympics?”

He shook his head, “Nah, my team need me. Besides, I have two very good reasons for not coming with you.”

The Doctor raised a brow challengingly, “Oh really?”

Jack beamed cockily, “Oh yeah. One: I’m not willing to risk the TARDIS being in a strop with me because of the whole fixed point thing.”

“Jack, I’m sor-”

“You better be, Rosie, ‘cause two:” he raised a brow scandalously, “Jackie tells me you two are loud.”

They both blushed crimson.

“Oh! And I don’t know how many times I can take my offer to join being rudely rejected.”

He got hit with several pillows and chip wrappers.

#Doomsday Month #tenrose #doctor x rose #tenth doctor #rose tyler #jackie tyler #captain jack harkness #doctor who #dw fanfic #my writing #see i fixed it this time!#doomsday fixit

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author-a-holmes · 3 years ago

Note

This is what happens when I, on a whim, google my own name!

I know it's an old ask now, but this sounds very much like my fic (thank you buffyann23 for sharing the link) I've been rewriting it and updating it for 2022 though, so thought I'd just do a reblog with a link to the new version of the story (The old version is still archived at the previously shared link.)

2022 Version - A Rose By Any Other Name

The Master steals the Tardis from the Doctor at the very end of time, but the blue Timeship has plans of her own to enact and drops the meddlesome Time Lord in 1973. Meanwhile, Rose has been trapped in the parallel world for 3 years but has finally fought her way back to where she should be without shattering the multiverse, but landing in the right universe and finding the Doctor once there are two completely different tasks. As Jack and his Torchwood Team in Cardiff help Rose acclimatise to her original realm once more, the Doctor has taken on Martha Jones as his new companion after a few months of mourning while drifting through the vortex. As she tries to help the Time Lord move on, Martha isn't expecting to bump into the one companion the alien's still grieving. As they each become accustomed to the changes time and space have wrought, secrets, plans, and traps are revealed that could make or tear apart the Doctor's world. A thread ties all of them together, a thread woven through time.

I’ve been searching for this for so long and you guys are so helpful! I’m looking for a fic where rose came back from Pete’s world with the help of a carrionite and the shadow proclamation. She was found by jack and torchwood who she ends up working for for a while before joining back up with the doctor and Martha during the Lazarus experiment episode. Can you help? I’ve been searching forever lol

Sorry, Nonny, we do not know this one! Can anyone help?

11/20 Edited to Add: @buffyann23 has suggested it could be A Rose By Any Other Name, by AristaHolmes. Does this fit the bill?

#Reblog #Fanfiction #Doctor Who #Season Rewrite #Rose/Doctor #Doctor/Rose #Time Lady Rose #Rose Tyler #10th Doctor #Doomsday Fixit #ten x rose #aristaholmes #a rose by any other name

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whoinwhoville · 8 years ago

Link

I was in a bit of a funk, so I decided to read one of my favorite crackfics of all time.

Here are the corresponding pictures and the video. Start watching the video around 1:10, and keep your eyes on the rear tires -- just to the left. (Make sure you turn off the sound so Murray Gold doesn’t stab you in the heart.)

So next time you watch Doomsday, and your heart is breaking, remember this little ditty.

youtube

#fic rec #crackfic #doomsday #ten x rose #doomsday fixit #of sorts #LOL

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megabadbunny · 7 years ago

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speechless

TenRose; all ages/mild teen. fills @timepetalsprompts general “Tenth Doctor month” prompt

***

He knows the instant the TARDIS touches the tarmac that something is wrong. (There’s no grinding of the Time Rotor, no sickly shuddering or sharp-flashing warning lights; it’s just wrong, in his chest, something squeezing and clenching where it shouldn’t. Guilt, he’d label it if he didn’t know any better, but the feeling is hardly helpful when he hasn’t a clue what he’s done wrong.)

The sonic makes quick work of the door—normally he wouldn’t, not here, anyway, but rapping his knuckles and pounding his palm on it didn’t work, save to elicit nosy or dirty looks from curious passersby. He flashes the psychic paper and mutters something under his breath about maintenance and steps inside the flat before anyone has time to question him. The flat, of course, is empty. Well, that at least explains why no one answered the door. It isn’t because of...other reasons. Admonitions about nosiness and boundaries and sometimes people need privacy, Doctor all crowd to the forefront of his mind, only to be pushed to the back as he scopes out the flat for clues. But the flat seems insistent on shaking him at every turn, betraying nothing of its inhabitants’ whereabouts. The message-taking pad by the phone betrays nothing; it’s new, fresh, no ghosts of messages past pressed into its pages. There are no new notes tacked to the fridge or washing-machine, though the latter has a funny little rattle when the Doctor walks by it (and two-minutes’ worth of the Doctor’s tinkering puts an end to that). The calendar remains stubbornly unhelpful as well, showing nothing but distant family birthdays and friends’ anniversaries and a series of red x’s tapering off after— The Doctor’s lips purse together, a dam stoppering the flow of curses trying to leak out. He heaves a frustrated sigh. It’s no twelve months instead of twelve hours, but it might as well be. He really is a rubbish pilot. But eventually that excuse will run thin, if it isn’t already riddled with holes. One day, she’ll stop forgiving him, and he isn’t so sure he can blame her.

(He almost forgets to re-lock the door when he stalks out, but he only almost forgets.)

A quick scan of the rest of the Estate returns no notable results, and no familiar faces greet him from the inside of the local chippies, or pubs, or store-fronts. Searching the library is a fruitless endeavor, as is an examination of the bus-station. The Doctor wanders up and down the streets for what feels like years but is, in truth, only a few hours, peeking inside games shops and bookshops and sweet-shops and Tesco’s and tailor’s-places and any place that hasn’t got the windows shuttered because where is she, where the bloody hell is she? And then a thought strikes him, something unpleasant indeed—he checked the bus-station, but that would be pointless if she was already gone. And if she’s gone... He swallows. He can find her easily enough; he’s only doing this the hard way out of some kind of silly penance. Finding her isn’t the problem. The problem is if she doesn’t want to be found. (After the other universe, after the black hole, after everything at Canary Wharf—maybe she doesn’t want to do this anymore. Maybe that’s perfectly reasonable. But, rather selfishly perhaps, where does that leave him? What is he supposed to do then?) It’s in a hair salon that he finds Jackie, getting her nails manicured and laughing gaily with a circle of likeminded and like-aged friends, all thoughts of ghosts and Daleks and Cybermen completely erased like they never were. But the second Jackie’s gaze land on him, her smile disappears, her eyes gone cold. Her friends continue chattering around her but she doesn’t join in the fun, doesn’t tear her eyes away from the Doctor’s. She raises a sharp-plucked eyebrow and points a lacquered fingernail westward. Go fix it, you twat.

She doesn’t need to say it for him to hear it, and he doesn’t need a physical slap to feel the shame burning his cheeks. With a curt nod in thanks, the Doctor turns on his heels and heads westward. Once he’s out of Jackie’s sight, he runs.

***

He feels more than a little stupid when he finally finds her. But of course she’s here—with a busted-up machine, where else was she going to get her washing done? The Doctor just stands and watches her for a moment, taking her in amidst the unnaturally bright laundromat lights. She looks terribly bored from her lonely perch atop the yellowed old washing-machine, her eyes half-shuttered, her hands clasped in her lap. Previous experience tells the Doctor that she should be reading a trashy magazine right about now, or maybe a book pilfered from the TARDIS archives, or painting her nails or noshing on a treat if she’s not gone from the laundry room altogether, watching a film with him in the library or keeping him company while he tinkers under the console or lying atop the grass with him in the garden, making up new names for all of the constellations she doesn’t recognize, even some of the ones she does— Another customer pushes past the Doctor and he startles at the harsh clang of the doorbell. So sure he’s about to be discovered, he throws a glance at Rose that’s somewhere between nervous and hopeful, but she doesn’t look up. She doesn’t even twitch. She just...sits. Oh, no. She’s not bored. She’s numb. She’s good and properly numb. And it’s good and properly his fault. The guilty-feeling from earlier bubbles unpleasantly in his gut. He should go in there. He’s got to go in there and explain things, namely himself, as much as he can bear to. He can’t let her think he’s angry with her, even if he sort-of is, in a way that’s got nothing to do with her. He can’t let her think he just left her here, at least not for longer than he intended, which wasn’t really very long at all, not even by her standards. He can’t let her think she did anything wrong, nothing besides loving him, anyway. (She shouldn’t; she really, really shouldn’t. But that doesn’t appear to be stopping him, either.) It isn’t until after the newcomer dumps their washing into a machine and goes through the motions, the detergent and the coins and the buttons and the swearing and the top-of-the-machine-pounding and the pressing of buttons again and then the eye-rolling and the muttering and the leaving, that the Doctor manages to pull together the last remaining threads of his courage and pushes open the door to the laundromat. Slowly, Rose’s gaze sharpens, traveling from their stare into nothingness over to where the Doctor stands, taking him in from the floor up, battered Chucks and pinstriped suit and fists balled in pockets and coat settling around him as the door bangs loudly into place. Neither of them twitch, too fixed on each other as the washing-machines whirr and clang and generally make a ruckus. Opening his mouth to speak, the Doctor steps forward, but Rose turns away. He falters. That’s sort of a universal sign, isn’t it? The unmistakable broadcast of I don’t want to talk to you. Fists clench tighter in his pockets before loosening, relaxing. Fine. They don’t have to talk. It may be his typical modus operandi but he has other ways of doing things, too. A regular problem-solver, him. The Doctor crosses the laundromat in several long strides and before Rose has a chance to react, he envelops her in a tight, breath-squeezing hug, his hands wrapping around to either side of her ribcage. Surprised, she tenses beneath the embrace, but relaxes into it soon enough, her own arms coming up to limply encircle him. He tightens his hold on her and nudges her elbow with his—snugger, as if to say. A real hug. More. Rose complies and the Doctor imagines he can hear her slight little smile. Tension eases from his shoulders and he turns his face toward her, into her neck, at this height. He feels rather than hears her swallow, senses the uptick in her breathing, her heartrate. For all their hugging and hand-holding and waist-grabbing, it’s still a surprisingly intimate gesture, and a vulnerable one, whether she recognizes it as such. But fortunately, blessedly, she must, because soon she’s leaning into him, burrowing into his shoulder while one hand buries itself in his hair. He needed time, he thinks he should tell her. To clear his head, to sort his thoughts. To give her a bit of a break, room for her to visit her mum. To reconsider if this is what she really wants. He needed time to come to terms with the fact that— His eyes clench shut against the memory, against the hurt that blossoms with it. I almost lost you. He steps back with every intention of delivering the apologetic plea hovering on his lips, only for Rose to lean forward and press her mouth to his, swallowing any words that may emerge. (Thankfully, his hands only flail about uselessly for approximately 1.03 seconds before flying up to her face, holding her close when, flushing and suddenly uncertain, she tries to pull away. But surely his hands holding her close will let her know she has nothing to be ashamed or uncertain about; surely his trembling arms and desperate mouth give him away.) Both of them jump at the washing-machine buzzing impatiently beneath Rose, letting her know in no uncertain terms that it has completed its cycle, thank you very much. But Rose just laughs shakily and pulls the Doctor in for more, and it’s sort of funny, isn’t it, all of time and space at their disposal and their first proper snog takes place in a dingy old laundromat on unremarkable old planet Earth. It would have been much more romantic to take her somewhere exotic and new, somewhere with a triple-sunset or a glass ocean or rainbow-luminescent flowers unfurling their petals toward the inky midnight sky. But she’s kissing him, she’s kissing him, and it feels like a promise, one he’ll gladly take no matter how little he deserves it or where she gives it to him, romance be damned. (Later, he’ll tell her anything she wants; right now, this says everything they both need to know.)

***

#ficandchips #tenrose #tenxrose #ten/rose #timepetalsprompts #doomsday fixit #post-doomsday fixit #emotional hurt/comfort #mild teen rating comes from a single instance of language use if you're concerned #other than that it's all ages #i just sat down and hammered this out within the last like hour and a half...?#idk it just popped into my head apropos of nothing and here it is #doop boop #mbb fic

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