#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.

***

240 notes · View notes

darth-tella · 6 years ago

Text

Changing Fate

(A Doomsday fix it I wrote and originally posted on FF.net in Feb 2017. I updated a few lines here and there from the original.)

Read on AO3

The Doctor just stared at the spot Rose had occupied for a long moment. He was alone once more. She had argued, of course she did. She was Rose Tyler! She had tried to choose him over her own family. She promised him she was going to stay with him forever.

And now he had sent her away against her will. Again. Never once telling her exactly what she meant to him. He didn't even have a chance to say goodbye.

Oh well, that way was probably best, he thought. Better to let her think of him as an selfish uncaring jerk than someone who truly, deeply…

"I think this is the on switch."

Her voice startled him and he looked up. Rose was back! He couldn't help but feel extremely elated (he always felt instantly happier when she was around), but that feeling only lasted a fraction of a second.

Why was she back? Couldn't she see just how much danger they were in? Why didn't she ever bloody listen to him?! He jumped up and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Once the breach collapses, that's it. You will never be able to see her again. Your own mother!" He was practically shouting at her, pleading with her to see reason. Rose just stared stubbornly back.

"I made my choice a long time ago, and I'm never going to leave you." Her tone was so resolute and it startled him. There was such devotion for him in her eyes. Mixed in with that devotion was another emotion he had seen so many times, but he forced himself to ignore it: love. Neither emotion he felt like he remotely deserved at this moment. Especially not after he felt like he completely betrayed her trust. Sending her away – no – abandoning her was the one thing he had adamantly promised he would never, ever do to her.

"So, what can I do to help?" Rose asked just as Torchwood's computers came back online. That was his Rose, always wanting to lend a hand no matter how bad the situation was. He pointed towards one of the computer terminals.

"Those coordinates over there, set them all at six. And hurry up!" He snapped, angry at himself for thinking he could be foolish enough to send her away.

Rose scurried over to the computer and removed the dimension hopper the Doctor had surreptitiously placed around her neck just a few moments before and set to the task he'd given her. As she quickly set the coordinates she noticed another window on her screen. It was live CCTV footage of the stairwell closest to them.

"We've got Cybermen on the way up." She reported. The Doctor came up beside her to look at the screen.

"How many floors down?"

"Just one."

Rose started to fear the worst. There were too many of them! Still, she was content to be on this side of the Void with the Doctor, not cowering in some other universe.

Then, curiously one Cyberman turned and started firing on its own kind. Black oil ran down its metallic face as if it were crying. It gave them all the time they needed.

The Doctor finally cracked a smile as his computer reported that the levers were once again online and operational. He could now enact his completely daft plan of opening the Void in reverse.

Rose took his smile as a good sign.

"That's more like it. Bit of a smile. The old team." She chirped, his infectious smile spreading to her. He picked up both the Magnaclaps and walked towards her.

"Hope and Glory, Mutt and Jeff, Shiver and Shake." Rose blinked, slightly confused by his references.

"Which one's Shiver?"

"Oh, I'm Shake." He winked at her as he placed one of the clamps into her waiting arms. They walked over to opposite ends of the room, stopping just behind the levers. The Doctor positioned his clamp on the wall, and Rose copied his movements.

"Press the red button." Rose did just as he had instructed and felt the clamp attach itself to the wall. They both stepped up to their levers as the Doctor explained, "When it starts, just hold on tight. Shouldn't be too bad for us, but the Daleks and the Cybermen are steeped in Void stuff." He gave her a good, long look, hoping this wasn’t the last time he could do so. "Are you ready?" Rose nodded, as she looked out the window. The Daleks were on their way. And they were coming fast.

"So are they."

"Let's do it!" And with that, they both pushed their levers up and ran back to their Mangaclamps and held on as tight as they could. The breach opened, and a strong wind like neither of them experienced before started to blow inwards towards it. The Daleks accelerated even faster, but their movements were erratic. They spun uncontrollably through the air and were sucked in.

"The breach is open! Into the Void!" Rose heard the Doctor laugh, and she looked over and grinned back at him. It was working! Dalek after Dalek was sucked in. All around the world, all the Cyberman were simultaneously being pulled in from where they stood.

Then it all started to go pear-shaped. A small explosion erupted around Rose's lever as it malfunctioned, and it started to move quickly back into the "off" position. The wind started to die down, and there were still a handful of Daleks left to be disposed of.

The Doctor felt his hearts leap to his throat as Rose let go of her clamp and grabbed onto the lever. He was helpless to do anything! There was no way for him let go and help her without getting sucked into the Void himself! And it would take him too long to find the right setting on the sonic to fix it.

"I've got to get it upright!" She gritted out, straining to push it back into position. With one mighty shove, she somehow managed it. But wasn't able to get back to her clamp and held on as tight as she could to her lever.

"Rose, hold on! Hold on!" The Doctor screamed desperately at her. This was exactly what he was trying to avoid when he sent Rose to the parallel world. Ever since that morning when they discovered the army of ghosts, he could feel a great temporal tipping point was coming up. As the battle between Humans, Cybermen and Daleks began he started to fear that the Beast's prophesy was actually going to come true! And now he watched helplessly as Rose's feet were swept out from under her, and she was now only hanging on by her fingertips.

No! She couldn't be the valiant child who would die in battle! She just couldn't! She was Rose Tyler! His Rose Tyler! The woman he loved with his entire being!

And he never once told her.

Oh, he did try and show her how much he cared for her. But Humans, clever as they are, sometimes just needed to be told.

She couldn't die. Not like this!

But now, he was horrified that she would.

The last of the Daleks tumbled into the Void.

Her already perilous grasp faltered and her fingers slipped completely off the lever. She scrambled to grab it again, but she was too far out of reach. Her screams ripped right through him. He heard another scream. It took him a moment to realise he was screaming himself.

She was tumbling towards the Void! Her eyes locked with his and he could see the raw terror reflected in them.

Suddenly, the breach collapsed in on itself. Her momentum propelled her forward and she slammed into the stark white wall and crumbled to the floor where she lay unmoving. Without even telling his limbs to do so, the Doctor detangled himself from his clamp and rushed over to her.

"Rose!" Throwing himself onto his knees, he turned her over carefully and desperately checked her over for any signs of serious injury. She was still breathing, her pulse was rapid, but steady. But she had yet to open her eyes. "Rose?" He framed her face with his hands, his fingers lightly caressing her features.

"Please." He gritted through his teeth, his voice was only a choked whisper. "Please, please, please. Rose. Don't do this to me. Please, Rose, please!"

Seconds ticked by, but as far as the Doctor was concerned, it could’ve been an eternity. Then, Rose's face scrunched up as she took a sharp breath in, and she muttered something under her breath.

"What?" The Doctor breathed, his hearts feeling like they were going to give out any second.

"I asked, if you got the number of that bus." She blinked her eyes open and smiled up at him. "Hello."

He sighed in relief and took a few deep breaths to try and control his emotions, which was difficult to do especially since he couldn’t even name them. The adrenaline that had been surging through his veins was quickly being replaced with relief, although his hears still felt like they were trying to flee his chest they were beating so fast. A sudden giddy laugh bubbled out of him and it quickly spread to Rose. Despite his best efforts, his eyes started to well up and Rose saw one of the tears leak out and she caught it with her thumb. He caught her hand and just held it to his cheek.

"Hi." He breathed getting his giggles under control.

She smiled up at him before moving to sit herself up but winced when she tried to put weight on her left wrist as it was the one that slammed into the wall. The Doctor noticed her pained expression and helped her sit up and cradled her against his chest. He gently took her injured wrist and examined it.

She hissed in a breath and barely suppressed a whimper as she struggled to keep still as he probed an especially tender spot with his fingertips where dark bruises had begun to form. He diagnosed that it wasn't broken, just badly sprained. He quickly removed his tie and used it as a makeshift bandage so she wouldn't injure it further. He turned her injured wrist over carefully, reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the sonic screwdriver and took a moment to find the setting he wanted. Rose felt a distinct tingling sensation as he flipped the switch and slowly waved it over the injury, no doubt doing something to speed up the healing process. Nodding in satisfaction, he slipped the sonic back into his pocket, never taking his eyes off her wrist. Her breath then caught as he brought her hand up to his mouth and pressed a feather-light kiss to her palm. She couldn't help the flush that appeared on her cheeks at this incredibly rare and intimate gesture.

"There. All better. Well… not really. You still have some significant tissue damage, but it will all heal in time." A ghost of a smile graced his lips as he gently caressed her wrist and palm. "Human beings. You're so resilient." He kissed her palm again, this time lingering for several moments. Rose couldn’t help her thumb brushing against his chin as he did so.

He slowly got to his feet and reached out to her. "Are you able to stand?"

"Yeah. I-I think so." Her voice was shaky as she reached out and took his hands the best she could with an injured wrist and allowed him to pull her up. She wobbled slightly when she got on her feet, and the Doctor was quick to steady her and pulled her into a tight hug. And was it just her imagination, or did she just feel his lips brush against her temple, before he rested his cheek atop her head? They just held each other for a long moment, neither one wanting to let go, but then he felt her turn her head.

"She's gone forever." She whispered, staring at the stark white wall.

"Yes." The Doctor replied simply. There wasn't much more he could say.

"Right, well… Mum has Mickey and… and Dad. They'll look after her, I'm sure. And I… I chose this." He could tell Rose was struggling with tears but she somehow willed them away.

"Why? You would've been safe on the other side. You would still have your family."

"I told you: I made my choice." She burrowed her head deeper into his shoulder.

"Why?" He repeated his question, pulling away from her slightly so he could look her properly in the eye. "Rose, don't get me wrong: I'm so, so happy you're here and I was so incredibly stupid to think I could just send you away like that. I should've known really that you'd come right back to me. You always do." He chuckled dryly. "But… but… I'd rather know you were alive and with people you love than… than seeing…" He choked down the emotion rising up his throat as he gestured toward the wall. For a brief moment, he could sense what could've been: a vision of himself pressing an ear to the wall, sensing her presence as she mirrored his position on the other side of the Void before the breach closed for good. That timeline disintegrated into nothing and he shook himself back into the present. When he spoke again, his voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper. "I nearly lost you today. For good."

"But you didn't." Rose tried a smile again, but her voice was also choked with repressed tears. "And… and as for me bein' with someone I love… well…" She smiled meaningfully up at him and placed her hands on his chest, one over each rapidly beating heart. The Doctor stared down at her for a long moment. His hands came up to cover hers and he squeezed hers gently.

"Rose, I…" Closing his eyes and lowering his head, he trailed off. He wanted to tell her those hearts she felt were hers, always had been and always will be. To cheesy?

Oh, for Rassilon's sake! This was this kind of opportunity he needed to finally tell her, but the words were stuck in his throat. He took a deep breath and tried to open his mouth again to speak but all that came out was a frustrated sounding sigh.

Rose began to pull away from him, tears forming in her eyes. He looked up and watched as her smile faded into an expression of hurt. No! He couldn't have that! For once his gob had utterly failed him, but only because he couldn't adequately describe just how deep his feelings ran for her in any of the billions of languages he was fluent in. But then, didn't he often hear that actions spoke louder? At this moment, he could only think of one appropriate action he could take. He took in a deep breath to steady himself and Rose didn't have any time to react before he ducked his head down and pressed his lips to hers, giving her the sweetest and most gentle kiss she ever received in her life. He felt her sharp intake of breath and her shoulders shake with tears and he immediately pulled away, inwardly chastising himself for acting so recklessly. But then she let out a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh and the next thing he knew, her arms were around his neck, one hand trailing up into his hair, and she was kissing him. He stood shock still for a moment before he just melted into her. His arms looped around her waist and he held her tight as she poured everything she had into that kiss, and he responded in kind.

Mindful of Rose's need for air, he pulled away slightly to let her breathe.

"Well…" The Doctor chuckled breathlessly despite his respiratory bypass. Rose smiled back.

"I love you." The words tripped effortlessly off Rose's lips, and it caused the Doctor's smile to widen.

"Quite right, too." He couldn't help the cheeky response, but then his smile softened as he reached up and caressed her cheek, revelling in the way she leaned into his touch. "And I've had so many chances to say it, but I never did, I just assumed you knew, even though I've been such a bloody coward about telling you… but sometimes there are things that just need to be said, and I don't want this to be my last chance: Rose Tyler," The words got stuck in his throat again, but he shook his head sharply and plowed on: "I love you. So much."

Rose smiled and pulled him into a hug, and he laughed as he lifted her off the ground. She gasped when he decided to twirl her around for the heck of it, but she had to readjust her grip on his shoulders to keep from falling. This small movement jostled her wrist and shoulders and she couldn't help but yelp slightly in pain. The Doctor immediately set her down, apologising profusely. Of course, the strain of holding onto her clamp would've caused some major discomfort!

He was just so thick sometimes.

"I'm okay." Rose gave him a weak smile, wincing slightly as she rolled her shoulders. "I just wanna go home now."

The Doctor felt his hearts plummet.

She wanted to go home?

Back to her old life working in a dead-end job, watching Coronation Street and eating beans on toast?

Alone?

She wanted to leave now knowing his feelings for her?

It didn't make any sort of sense!

"Home?" He squeaked, hoping to keep the panic out of his voice. He didn't.

"Back to the TARDIS." She clarified, looking at him like he just dribbled all down his shirt. The Doctor breathed out roughly and laughed feeling absolutely foolish for doubting her.

"Rose, the TARDIS can be your home for as long as you want it to be. And I suppose… as long as you’ll have me?" He looked suddenly shy. Rose tilted her head and appeared to be contemplating his offer.

"Can that be forever?"

He reached out for her hand suddenly grinning like a loon, and she took it.

"Forever." He confirmed.

#ten x rose #doomsday month #bloody doomsday #doomsday fixit #fluff #old fic #revamped fic #my fic

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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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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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pellaaearien · 7 years ago

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Something of the Wolf, Chapter 4

Words: 7005 Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler

I am so, so sorry for the extended wait on this chapter, but my muse finally decided to behave and give me seven thousand words of pure fluff. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | Ao3

“Rose, we’re gonna be late!” The Doctor called back into the TARDIS. He straightened his cuffs. He wasn’t about to tempt fate by wearing a tux tonight but the old girl had supplied him with a sharp new blue suit, which he’d paired with a deep red Oxford and a black tie rather than his habitual blue on blue, as the TARDIS had hinted he should. He suspected it was in order to match whatever Rose was wearing, but a hint was all he’d gotten, though he had to admit it made his suit a bit dressier than usual.

“Time machine!” Rose sang back from within the bowels of the TARDIS. The Doctor shook his head indulgently. She and the TARDIS had been conspiring like schoolgirls for the past several hours, and their impish humour zinged pleasantly along his bond with the ship. It made him think about how it might feel to be receiving Rose’s emotions directly rather than secondhand. She’d taken to telepathy like a fish to water, but she hadn’t mentioned anything further about bonding.

The Doctor frowned as he peered back into the TARDIS, waiting for Rose to emerge. The ball tonight would have been the perfect setting for a proposal, he suddenly realised, but his plans were no further advanced and he was disappointed in himself. Admittedly he hadn’t exactly had much of a chance to purchase a ring - that was what tonight was about, after all. A rest, and a change of scenery. Taking the time to do something fun.

A few times, he’d attempted to slip out while Rose was asleep, but she would inevitably stir and he didn’t want to arouse her suspicions. He straightened his tie. Now that they were back to travelling, he would make finding a ring his top priority. Rose deserved better from him.

Rose did a little experimental twirl in front of the mirror, equal parts anticipation and anxiety tightening in her belly. It wasn’t that she seriously doubted what the Doctor’s reaction would be, but it had been ages since she’d dressed up, and she couldn’t quite shake the little voice that told her she shouldn’t bother.

It wasn’t as large a part as it had once been. If there was anything the telepathy lessons had impressed upon her, it was exactly how intense and enduring the Doctor’s feelings for her were. Between that and all she’d seen and done in her travels, her self-esteem had gotten a major boost. Still, it was hard to completely vanquish the little voice in the back of her head (that sounded a bit like her mother) saying that she was a shop girl from the Estates and that was all she would ever be.

After their time spent floating in the Vortex, learning how to control her telepathy, Rose and the Doctor had looked at each other over breakfast one morning and knew that they were both ready to run again. The Doctor had told her that she had a good grasp of the fundamentals and now it was just a matter of practice. They’d set the randomiser, and landed on the planet Rheneia. The Doctor had bounded out of the TARDIS - already expounding the virtues of a rainbow sea and storms made of flower petals - right into the middle of a coup.

They’d quickly ascertained the nature of the conflict and though they both had opinions as to which side they supported, they remained carefully neutral as always, lending aid wherever they could and trying to keep casualties down. Luckily the Rheneians were by and large a sensible people and didn’t villify them for this, both sides instead lauding them for their efforts.

The Doctor told her later that Rheneia was a peaceful planet but every few generations or so the same conflict would rear its head again, with most of society wanting nothing to do with it except for a few hotheads. The restored monarchy had gratefully invited them to a ball that night to celebrate, and the two of them had agreed it would be just the sort of break they had actually wanted, doubly welcome after the stress of being in a war zone for the past few days.

She eyed her reflection critically. The TARDIS had provided her with a scarlet gown to wear to the ball, and it was Rose’s opinion that the ship had really outdone herself this time. The dress had a high halter neckline, and clung to her upper body as though painted there, hugging all her curves to drape in elegant folds around her legs. The asymmetrical hem, shorter in the front, would still allow her to run, if she had to, though she was quite uncharacteristically wearing heels - the TARDIS had directed her to them, and she trusted the ship to know whether or not running would be required - if push came to shove she could always slip them off.

By far the most striking feature of the dress, however, was that it was completely backless. Rose twisted to look over her shoulder at the line where the silken fabric skimmed her waist and thought the only shame would be that it meant she wouldn’t be able to see the expression on the Doctor’s face the instant he got the full effect.

No necklace was needed with this dress, so the only finishing touches were diamond dangle earrings to replace the hoops she always wore, then she patted the vanity fondly. She’d been helped by the TARDIS every step of the way, deeply aware of their stronger connection through all the lessons she’d completed; it was almost like having a girl’s night. The ship chirped encouragement at her, and she nodded in satisfaction at the woman in the mirror. She looked like she belonged at a fancy ball, on the arm of someone like the Doctor. She couldn’t wait to show him.

Grabbing a wrap from beside the door that would hide the best part of the dress until the opportune moment, Rose set her shoulders and walked out of the wardrobe room, eager to see her Doctor.

He was, predictably, still grumbling as she came into earshot. “Time machine nothing, Rose, we’ve landed so we’re already part of events. We’re the guests of honour at this ball, not sneaking in this time, so we can’t just…”

“I suppose Time Lords wouldn’t have a concept of being ‘fashionably late,’ would they?” Rose asked, lightly halting his tirade, and the Doctor turned, wearing an expression like he was about to argue, before catching sight of her and his face went slack, like he'd just been poleaxed by a cricket bat.

Rose caught her breath, too, at the striking figure the Doctor cut, but nervousness still fluttered in her chest the longer he went without a reaction. Still, it was something, to see the Doctor rendered speechless like this, and that was compliment enough for Rose. Seeing a way to gracefully diffuse the situation, she arched a teasing brow.

“What was that you were saying about being late…?” She went to move past the Doctor but his arms shot out, catching her by the shoulders. She turned to look at him, surprised by the sudden movement, and found herself transfixed by the intensity in his eyes that was every bit as powerful as that fleeting moment when her first Doctor had looked at her dressed for Cardiff. That Doctor had looked down, deflected; this one didn’t look like he was capable of taking his eyes off her.

“Rose…” Her cheeks heated under his gaze, he looked at her like a birthing star, a fresh galaxy. “You look…” he seemed to struggle for words. “Absolutely stunning,” he said at last, and Rose could no longer resist the temptation of his open mouth to suck on his bottom lip, which quickly turned into a heated snog as the Doctor pressed her gently against the door of the TARDIS.

Sure stunned you, Rose thought cheekily, and felt his wholehearted agreement. It was getting easier, though still difficult, to exchange thoughts when they were touching like this, their minds having become more and more attuned to each other through hours of practice. Easing regretfully out of the kiss with a final peck, she ran her fingers carefully through the hair behind his ears, since she hadn’t been able to grab it during the kiss for fear of mussing it.

“Thank you, Doctor,” she said, and then continued before he could respond. “Now, we really will be late.”

They took a quick moment to compose themselves and then the Doctor offered his arm. “Might I have the honour of escorting you to the ball, Dame Rose?”

Rose slipped her arm through his, twining them until they were holding hands. It was an unconventional hold, but it suited them. “It would be my pleasure, Sir Doctor,” she teased, touching her tongue to her teeth as she grinned at the memory of Scotland and how far they’d come since.

Twilight was deepening as they made their way across the manicured lawn, whimsically shaped topiaries looming out of the shadows at them. The white gravel path crunching beneath their feet was rendered lilac in the gloam, and the scent of honeysuckle was heavy in the air.

Rose squeezed the Doctor’s arm, saying nothing, just drinking in the moment. The Doctor squeezed back, and she knew he was thinking the same thing.

When they arrived at the vestibule, Rose made sure to go ahead of the Doctor. A smartly dressed attendant took her wrap. Behind her, Rose heard the Doctor’s breath hitch. She glanced over her shoulder to catch him swallowing visibly, the heat in his eyes like a banked fire, setting her alight.

An instant later, he was beside her, one hand coming to rest automatically in the small of her back like he couldn’t help himself (which, Rose thought with a touch of smugness, he probably couldn’t).

“Rose Tyler,” he murmured in her ear as they joined the queue to enter the ballroom, words nearly a growl, and Rose suppressed a pleasurable shiver. “I hope that your intent when you put this on was to render me incapable of keeping my hands off you for the entire evening.”

Rose grinned inwardly and thanked the TARDIS for providing an outfit that would start to make up for all the previous such events they’d attended when she’d wanted nothing more than to hear the Doctor say those words to her.

“Might’ve been,” she said, smiling innocently up at him, watching his expression shift into something predatory that she licked her lips to see.

“Good,” was all he said, eyes wide and dark, and then they’d arrived in the ballroom.

Rose caught her breath, surveying the scene. Everything sparkled, tastefully accented with filigree and hundreds of candles ensconced just so to achieve the maximum effect. Guests mingled in colourful profusion across the gleaming parquet floor, framed by long trestle tables adorned with ribbons and groaning under a heaping weight of delicacies. Massive gilt mirrors made the large space appear even larger, and the far wall consisted entirely of floor to ceiling windows. No ballroom would be complete without a massive chandelier and this one was an ornate vision in shimmering gold and silver, seeming to refract all the light in the room even as it produced more, so bright it nearly hurt to look at for long.

Rose felt like they’d stepped into a fairy tale. She’d attended many such events with the Doctor and wasn’t easily impressed, but it wasn’t every day she got to set foot somewhere that looked like it was taken directly from her fantasies.

She looked up at the Doctor and found him looking back at her, savouring her reaction. Only then did it register that he hadn’t made an immediate beeline for the buffet. His restraint was obviously for her benefit, and it made her feel warm inside, at the tangible evidence that he was making a conscious effort to do as he’d promised and making this evening about them.

“Rose,” he said in a low tone, as he guided her over to the dais to greet the queens whose regime they’d helped save, hand still firmly placed on her lower back, “it was never about the nibbles.”

Rose wondered if he’d read her mind - given the nature of the latent telepathic awareness that was constantly buzzing between them these days, it wasn’t uncommon for either or both of them to have flashes - but the Doctor shook his head.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to attending one of these with you now that I don’t feel I have to play pretend any more,” he said, and the light in his dark eyes held such promise. Rose nearly melted against him right then and there, but she cast her mind back and realised that they hadn’t gone to any fancy parties since consummating their relationship. She grinned up at the Doctor, but he smirked back at her.

“The most beautiful woman in the universe on my arm, and I’m finally able to take advantage,” he said, so quietly Rose felt the words more than she heard them. She was robbed of the chance to respond as they arrived at the dais and greeted their majesties. Rose let the Doctor do the talking, as usual, still preoccupied with his words and the way they gave her goosepimples.

A brief squeeze of her hand was all the warning she got before she noticed both of the queens’ attention was now focussed on her. Snapping back to the conversation, her mood shifted abruptly from thrilling happiness to stark horror as she realised her name had been mentioned. They were waiting for her to say something.

They asked if you might be willing to say a few words, the Doctor gently prompted her, and not for the first time, Rose blessed telepathy for allowing them to have nearly instantaneous conversations. She bit the inside of her cheek nervously - why hadn’t she thought of this before? Rheneian society was heavily matriarchal (the reason for the conflict in the first place) and would rate her words far more highly than the Doctor’s.

It was the classic nightmare come to life, called upon to do public speaking with no preparation, but it was worse because this was so naturally the Doctor’s territory. Rose was fine with that - she was aware her talents lay elsewhere. She felt a rush of calm that wasn’t hers and knew the Doctor had to be sharing his emotions. She took a deep breath.

“I’d be honoured, your majesties.” Her voice shook a little, but she hoped it wasn’t too noticeable. She turned to address the room, marvelling that the space she once thought so large suddenly seemed crowded with people. The Doctor kept his firm grip on her hand, and she set her shoulders. She’d spoken for planet Earth against a hostile alien race with the Doctor in a coma. She could do this.

“The Doctor and I would like to thank you all for your generous hospitality,” she said first, trying to think of suitable words. “We’re honoured by your welcome.” Keep it simple, Tyler. “But we only helped where we could. The real heroes are all of you. The Rheneian people. You worked together to restore peace to your home and proved yourselves to be brave, resourceful, and merciful. We hope you will never need our kind of help again.”

The experience of a matriarchal society was certainly refreshing, but she refused to let it blind her to how it wasn’t actually any better. She wanted to say something about how maybe greater equality would prevent such conflict but knew it wasn’t her place to interfere, limiting herself to a subtle reference to how this sort of thing kept happening.

There were assorted murmurs of approval that quickly broke into swelling applause, and Rose’s cheeks burned, embarrassed. She hadn’t said anything all that special, and was certain they were just humouring her, so it was a surprise when she felt a tidal wave of pride, and looked at the Doctor to find him staring at her with such open admiration that it made her slightly uncomfortable. She looked away quickly, unable to bear his gaze, but squeezed his hand in gratitude.

“Well said!” Her Left Royal Majesty swept down from her throne, deep indigo gown a-flutter. “Well said, indeed, Powell Rose!” She looked out upon the ballroom with her multi faceted, orb-like eyes. “With such a meet beginning, I declare the festivities officially open!” Looking back at Rose and the Doctor (or Rose assumed that’s what she was doing, she could never actually tell what the eyes were looking at) she inclined her head.

“Doctor, Powell Rose, will you further honour us by leading the dance?”

Rose glanced involuntarily at the Doctor. She didn’t actually expect him to refuse, but there was always a chance. The corner of his mouth turned up, and that was all the encouragement she needed to nod at the queen.

“Your Majesty, it would be our pleasure.”

The queen clapped her hands twice, and the musicians in the corner started playing the native version of a waltz, lent a somewhat darker undertone by the Rheneian instruments, which sounded to Rose’s ears like a cross between a zither and a cello. Rose, knowing what was expected of her, led the way to the floor, the Doctor trailing in her wake.

“You can let me lead, if you want,” the Doctor whispered to her. “Rheneian dance is intended to flatter the woman.”

Rose was happy to let the Doctor take charge for a little while after her unexpected speech, so she nodded gratefully. He shifted his grip on her, placing one gentle, long-fingered hand on her waist in a gesture that would have been chaste, were it not for the expanse of skin Rose was currently displaying. She shivered slightly - his touch was cool and the night was warm.

“Ready, Rose Tyler?” the Doctor asked. He looked at her like she was the only other being in creation, and her heart stuttered the way it always did.

“Show me your moves, Doctor,” she teased, and he smirked as they began to dance.

Of course, Rose was quite familiar with his moves by now, both in and out of bed, and she smiled softly at the memory of multiple dance lessons with the Doctor - dancing at social functions was a common enough occurrence in their lives after all. Rose had enjoyed the lessons, taking to it quickly thanks to her gymnastics training, but they had still been fraught with peril as they were both at pains to disguise how the close proximity to the other was affecting them. And now here they were.

“What are you thinking about?” the Doctor inquired, close enough to her ear to make her hair stand on end. He spun her out and away, and when she was back in the circle of his arms she rested her head on his shoulder briefly before replying.

“Of how much I love you.” She felt a burst of satisfaction when she heard his breath catch at her words and he pulled her involuntarily closer.

Rose heard murmurs rising in their wake as they passed; they must have cut quite a striking figure together. But her attention was all for the Doctor, as he led them around the floor as effortlessly as breathing and Rose honestly never thought she would have this even as she savoured the moment. Between the Doctor’s heartsbeat and the drum accompaniment time felt suspended, weightless, and they were floating.

“I can’t tell you how liberating it is not to have to pretend any more,” the Doctor confessed, and Rose squeezed his hand, stifling a giggle.

“Can I tell you a secret, Doctor?” She took advantage of their temporary closeness to lean up and whisper in his ear. “You were never very good at pretending.” The Doctor smiled ruefully, conceding her point.

“Well, I appreciate you letting me get away with it,” he drawled, before spinning her again.

The dance drew to a close, and after a brief applause, couples eagerly swarmed the floor. The Doctor and Rose bowed out to rest for a bit, and retreated to the dais, where they were seated near Their Majesties, both of whom clapped politely as they approached.

“Magnificent,” Her Right Royal Majesty proclaimed.

“Truly, we are graced by your presence among us,” Her Left Royal Majesty chimed in.

“But tell me, Powell Rose.” Her Right Royal Majesty leaned in conspiratorially. “What on Rheneia does a gorgeous woman such as yourself see in a man?” She sounded vaguely horrified. “Certainly his shape is pleasant enough, for a male, but wouldn’t a woman serve you better?”

Rose was deeply uncomfortable speaking about the Doctor as if he wasn’t present, but knew she had to play along to avoid giving offence. There was no way for her to verbalise everything the Doctor meant to her, and even if there were, she wouldn’t present it to this audience, who couldn’t understand it anyway.

“Erm. He’s got really great hair. And a nice… throat,” she said at last, seeking features that would distinguish him from a female. Beside her, the Doctor turned his squawk of outrage into a cough. “I like his ship, too,” she hurried on, as the queens nodded knowingly.

The Doctor just smiled politely, as though this knowledge wasn’t new to him and he appreciated the compliments. But Rose caught a flicker of his deeper unease through their joined hands and it was that glimpse that made her decide to go through with her ulterior purpose for the evening right then and there, instead of waiting for some undefined point by which she would have gathered her courage.

“I’d happily go into much greater detail later on,” she said, squeezing the Doctor’s hand in preparation to rise, “but would your majesties pray excuse us for a moment?” The Doctor looked at her in surprise but thankfully remained silent.

“Very well, Powell Rose,” Her Left Royal Majesty proclaimed with a lazy wave of her hand, “but see that you don’t take too long, you shall miss thehanabari .”

“We wouldn’t dream of missing the fireworks,” Rose assured them, having pulled the Doctor to his feet as soon as they’d been granted permission. “Excuse us.” She swept a curtsey, the Doctor bowing at her side after a hardly noticeable hesitation, and led the way off the dais, reaching for the Doctor’s hand again as soon as they were safely ensconced in the crowd.

What’s all this about, Rose? The Doctor asked, his voice in her head revealing the bewilderment he wouldn’t allow to show on his face. Rose held off answering until they’d slipped through one of the sets of glass doors into the garden.

She maneouvered them to an isolated spot beyond the hedges where they’d have a good view of the sky - because one way or another, she doubted they were heading back to the party tonight.

“Rose?” the Doctor prompted again, out loud this time, and Rose tried to sort through the order in which she wanted to answer the Doctor’s question.

She looked around - it was a beautiful spot. The bench was nestled in a tall hedge, surrounded on three sides. A trellis stretched across the opening, twined through with vines and native flowers. A bright moon shone down on them from a sky brushed with feathery clouds, lending a subtle silver glint to every outline and casting its dusky lavender veil over all. A fountain splashed somewhere out of sight.

The Doctor’s concern was growing the longer the silence stretched, so Rose turned back to him, taking both his hands.

“Doctor, you know I love you for more than just… your hair, or the TARDIS?”

His brows knitted together in a frown.

“Of course I do Rose, why would you think otherwise?”

“Because I don’t think you truly understand,” Rose admitted quietly. “Because even though we’ve spent so much time in each other’s heads, there’s still a part of you that doesn’t believe me when I tell you how much I love you. How beautiful you are. How I’m always going to stay with you.” The Doctor opened his mouth as if to speak, but Rose squeezed his hands and he shut it again. His eyes as he watched her were wide and doleful, his face as open and vulnerable as she’d ever seen it.

“An’ I get it, Doctor. I understand why when I say those things, it makes you pull back. I’ve seen it, in your head. I know. If we hadn’t discovered what we did about Bad Wolf, I might even have agreed with you. The last thing I want is for you to be hurt.” She freed one hand to cup his cheek, keeping her other hand firmly linked with his. An unnameable emotion mounted in his eyes as he kept them fixed on her face, and Rose couldn’t have looked away even if she wanted to.

“But that also means I won’t let you stay hurting when you don’t have to be. Doctor, you’re so alone, in your head.” The Doctor made a low sound and she stroked the hair behind his ear to quiet him.

“You don’t have to be alone anymore. I know you said you didn’t want me to be with you just because of what I saw in your head, and I’m not. You are the man who saved my life. Who showed me the stars. Who proved to me that I was worth so much more than I’d been taught to believe. When I became Bad Wolf to save you, I didn’t come back because trouble was just the bits in between, or because there was a plasma storm brewing in the Horsehead Nebula, or to a Doctor who danced.”

She raised her other hand to cradle his head between them, not yet venturing near his temples. Already, the temptation was there to slip into his mind, to let her feelings do the talking for her. But it was important to her that she say this without the aid of telepathy.

“I came back to a ravaged space station filled with the dead, to a Doctor who had been about to destroy all life on Earth. I have seen your darkness, Doctor. It doesn’t scare me. Not as much as the thought of you having to bear it alone.”

The Doctor sat frozen between her hands, hardly breathing. Rose hadn’t intended to talk for quite so long but a combination of nerves, the romantic setting, and how long she’d been waiting to say these words had removed her usual inhibitions. It was time.

“I made my choice a long time ago, that I was never going to leave you. Now that we know I won’t have to, I’m not gonna hold back any more. Doctor…” Rose ran the words through her head one last time. She didn’t know if this was the proper way to ask and it was too late now. She just hoped she wouldn’t screw it up. She took a deep breath, and spoke the words that the TARDIS had been helping her with.

The Doctor’s eyes shot wide. Rose bit the inside of her cheek, praying that she’d pronounced everything correctly, that the Doctor wouldn’t be upset.

“Rose…” His voice was oddly breathless, carrying no weight in the air. He had to swallow several times before he could speak, Rose waiting with bated breath for his response, her heart hammering in her chest. “Say that again. Just one more time.”

For one heartstopping moment, Rose was afraid that she’d said it wrong, that he hadn’t understood her. But then she saw the way he was looking at her, like a man who’d resigned himself to never eating again suddenly being presented with a feast, and she understood. She smiled, no longer apprehensive, and repeated the words exactly. A ritual phrase spoken in the Doctor’s native tongue. Will you bond with me?

The Doctor’s eyes fluttered shut, and he let out a shuddering breath. Rose waited. There were tears in his eyes when he opened them again but a fierce joy shone from his face. Before Rose could do anything, he’d pulled her into his arms and was kissing her desperately, pulling away just as she’d managed to think about reciprocating.

“Yes.”

Rose blinked, registering slowly that she’d asked a question, that the Doctor had answered. Tears started in her own eyes and the Doctor nodded in response to her expression, a single tear tracing down one cheek.

“Yes, Rose Tyler,” he said, the words low and hoarse. “I would be honoured to bond with you.”

He raised his fingers to her temples, waiting for her to do the same, and Rose felt a thrill that this was really happening, that they were doing this, right here and now. Both sets of hands were trembling as they made the connection and slipped easily into each other’s minds.

The Doctor was upon her immediately, a bright blazon through her mind, as he held her closer than he ever had before. Is this okay, Rose? he asked.

More than, Rose assured him, basking in the unbridled light of his presence.

Rose, you fantastic… You brilliant woman. How did you…? There was no small amount of awe in the Doctor’s tone and Rose shifted a bit uncomfortably.

It was the TARDIS, she explained. I asked her to help me. I don’t think she’d mess about with something like this. I just hope I got it right?

The Doctor had projected them into a replica of the place where they were sitting; he picked her up and spun her around, his mental signature almost giddy. Exactly right, Rose Tyler, he said, setting her down and sobering slightly, though the excitement was replaced by a profound joy that stopped just barely short of swallowing her. Ask me one more time. Please.

Rose could sense the true meaning behind the request; not only had the Doctor never thought he would hear his language again on the lips of another living soul, he had never once entertained the idea that such a question would ever be directed at him. She obliged, repeating the words with the weight of her new understanding and receiving in return a deeper comprehension of the words she spoke: tenses inexpressible in human terms, a cultural context that didn’t exist in English, lost in the mists of time.

Then, the Doctor answered, and though the words were in Gallifreyan, she could parse the unfamiliar words through their connection (and even if that weren’t the case, his acceptance in the most unreserved degree was thunderous across all telepathic frequencies): I welcome you as my bondmate.

Bondmate. Rose tested the word, both in English and the Gallifreyan the Doctor had used, and felt the shiver go through the Doctor’s mind. She looked up at him, unwilling to be distracted.

So, Doctor. How do we do this?

First, we need to completely take down our telepathic barriers. Good thing we’re on a psi-null planet like Rheneia, the Doctor said. Rose knew there was nothing lucky about it - the TARDIS had known exactly what she was doing. I know we’ve both already keyed each other in as safe but the bond is the ultimate bypass - because, essentially, our minds will become one.

Rose felt pleasure zip through her as she considered always being connected with the Doctor, but it was as nothing to the rapture emanating from the Doctor’s side. Once they’d both opened their minds, the Doctor hesitated for the briefest moment, and Rose knew, even without telepathy, that his desire to give her one last chance to back out was warring with how much he needed the bond - and how much he believed in what she’d told him. Filled with affection for the daft man she was about to bond with, Rose gave him the gentlest of telepathic nudges and repeated the sentence he’d used earlier. I welcome you as my bondmate.

With their barriers lowered, she could feel the wave of urgency as it overtook the Doctor at her words: his need to be with her forever, his wonder that he should be receiving what he wanted most in the universe.

Oh yes, Rose, the Doctor said, even his telepathic voice faint under the weight of his emotions. Normally both parties would offer affirmations, but you’ve already done yours, and I… The press of emotion nearly choked out his words. Rose waited as he steadied himself.

Rose Tyler, he said again, you are the true light in my life. I held myself back for so long because I was afraid of losing that light… all I could see when I looked at you is how little time we had left. Now, to learn that we really do have forever… He shook his head. I can only imagine a future with you.

This time it was Rose’s turn to be overwhelmed, but with a soft kiss, the Doctor reminded her that they still had something to finish. Buoyed by his love, her eagerness made it easy to focus.

Just follow my lead, Rose, the Doctor instructed, like this was just another lesson, only far, far more significant. He gradually began to wrap himself around her telepathic centre, strand by strand, and Rose made shift to do the same. Their connection made it easy to move in tandem, and soon they were coiled around each other in an intricate pattern.

Rose understood: they were making themselves a part of the other’s mental core, like grafting a tree. Her awareness of the Doctor had deepened with every strand, but she didn’t really feel any different, and she knew they weren’t finished yet.

Exactly, Rose. The Doctor’s voice was somehow clearer than before, as though she’d spent her whole life listening to mono and had suddenly discovered stereo. Now I want you to press into the core itself. There might be a bit of resistance, but don’t worry - you’ll know when to stop.

Rose did as she was told, sinking down into the ball of incandescent light. It was so beautiful that she almost didn’t notice the tiny shift, like the snick of a key in a lock, before suddenly she was completely enveloped in the bubble of the Doctor’s consciousness. At the same time, she could feel her own mind expand to contain the Doctor. All the centuries of life, the joy and the pain, all the voices she’d heard when she’d ventured too far that first time - all of that was now a part of her. And it didn’t feel overwhelming, as she’d expected; she merely felt full, the way she would after a decent meal when she hadn’t eaten for a while. It felt right .

That’s exactly how it should feel, my Rose. And I’m a part of you. The awe and gratitude in his voice couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. Rose waited, adjusting, watching as their joint telepathic shields were raised, twice as strong as either would have been separately, even added together. She felt completely safe, and strong, as she drifted in the warmth of the Doctor’s love, floating gradually back down to earth.

In the real world, they lowered their hands from each other’s temples, but like an afterimage, Rose could still feel herself ensconced within the golden centre of the Doctor’s mind.

She looked at the Doctor as her mental landscape continued to shift and change, feeling just as awed. Encompassing the consciousness of a Time Lord was not something you did every day, and she was absolutely blown away by how his love for her permeated every fibre that made up the whole.

For a moment, Rose had a vision of a series of faces overlaying the Doctor’s, stretching back into the past; by turns boyish and venerable, eccentric and stern, foppish and regal. Yet no matter how different they appeared in each face, the eyes proved that they belonged, absolutely, to the same man. Each were likewise contained within the Doctor’s current face, even that of an impish youngster, whose sharp eyes twinkled out at her from behind the Doctor’s. There was a second set of faces, even more nebulous, that Rose couldn’t make out in any detail except for the eyes, that she thought might be future regenerations. She sucked in a breath, and knew that every face belonged to her.

My Doctor, she thought, the words drawn from her before she realised she’d spoken, her love deepening with each face she saw until she could hardly recognise the feeling as what she’d called love before.

Yes, Rose, the Doctor replied, pulling her as close to him mentally as she did physically. Yours.

Their lips pressed together without any conscious intention; it was a natural effect of how close their bodies and souls were entwined. The kiss started out reverently, as they grew accustomed to the interplay of emotions, but with the added telepathic element, it heated quickly.

The first time the Doctor had kissed her, they’d been out in public at a 1950s street party; the real kiss had been when they’d gotten back to the TARDIS and snogged against the console. Even without any telepathy at all, the kiss had been unlike anything Rose had ever experienced, the Doctor’s scent, his taste, his cool lips, combining in some indescribable way, and Rose had been sure she’d never feel anything like it again.

Now, as the Doctor’s lips worshipped hers, Rose thought she’d have to revisit her earlier assessment. She felt like a glass full of light, pouring into the Doctor; emptied, she could accept his intensity in return. She could feel it all: the turn of the planet, the exact speed of the ground moving beneath their feet, the motion of the stars and the ceaseless, ever-changing melody of Time itself.

There were fireworks streaking gloriously across the sky, but the bursts of vibrant stars were as nothing compared to the explosions of emotion between them.

I love you, Rose Tyler, the Doctor breathed fervently, his bliss and adoration an incandescent presence in their new bond. My bondmate, my beloved, my hearts. Forever. Rose could feel the weight of the words through time as the Doctor finally laid claim to them.

She gathered herself to respond but the Doctor stopped her with a thought. My Rose, I know you want to say it back. But before you do, I want to hear you say it this way. Just once. You already know my true name, the one I chose. It’s the only one that matters, except this time. I want to tell you my name - my real name.

Rose couldn’t help the way her heart quivered at the thought of being entrusted with the Doctor’s biggest secret. She nodded, once. Please.

The Doctor steeled himself, and then he spoke a string of syllables. They imprinted themselves on her mind as he whispered them in her ear, and she could feel the ripple they made through time, the power in them resounding in her chest like one of the fireworks, even as she wept unabashedly at their beauty.

The Doctor kissed away her tears, and Rose smiled up at him. Speaking the words was effortless - it was like part of her had been waiting her whole life to repeat his name back to him, this once, and never again. “I love you.”

He trembled, and then pulled her closer against him, placing hungry kisses across every inch of skin he could reach. When he captured her lips in a searing kiss, Rose let the words ring out telepathically instead. I love you, my Doctor.

The bond pulsed insistently in her head, and it was perfectly natural for her to reach for it, sending her pleasure back to him. The Doctor groaned as he let her surface for air, his eyes dark with desire.

Did the bonding ceremony happen to include... a wedding night? Rose asked, again choosing the ease of telepathic communication over trying to get her breath back.

If possible, his eyes darkened even further. It does now.

He reached for her hand. Rose was already slinging off her heels. The Doctor beamed down at her, and she discovered facets in his smile she’d never seen before.

“Run!” he said, and they did, dashing ecstatically across the manicured palace grounds, their giggles drowned out by the fireworks. They approached the TARDIS just as dawn was breaking over the shorter Rheneian night, and the ship hummed impatiently as they approached, missing her new couple.

Rose whooped as the Doctor swept her into a bridal carry and both the TARDIS doors burst open. Once they were inside, he pressed her against them, sending provocative images over the bond even as he lightly caressed her face.

“No fair,” Rose moaned, barely able to think past the haze of passion, both hers and the Doctor’s, and the Doctor chuckled.

“Indeed not,” the Doctor replied, his lips now skimming the line of her throat to her shoulders. “You know, as fetching as this dress is on you, my love, I think it would look far nicer on -” he laved the hollow of her collarbone with his tongue and she shivered, arching into him - “that strut, over there.” He indicated with a jerk of his head before resuming his attentions on the other side.

“Same for that suit,” Rose sighed, already tugging at his tie. They wasted no more time in confirming their suspicions.

And so it was, that hardly a week after they’d almost lost each other, the Doctor and Rose began the first day of their forever the way they meant to go on - with not an inch of space left between them.

#ficandchips #dw fic #Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler #bad wolf!Rose #telepathy #telepathic bonding #established relationship #doomsday fixit #pella writes

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megabadbunny · 7 years ago

Text

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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