Hearts and Minds Collection: The Day Rose Really Needed to go to The Hospital (D/R)
Title: Hearts and Minds Collection: The Day Rose Really Needed to go to the Hospital 1/2
Author: angelofprey
Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose, or TenII/Rose whichever you prefer
Rating: G
Summary: ...Can't say much without giving it away.b>
Disclaimer: I don't Own Doctor Who or the BBC. b>
Author's Notes: Can be read with Ten or TenII whichever one you prefer. b>
The Doctor stared nervously at Rose. He hadn’t slept in the 48 hours they’d been at the hospital. He shifted nervously for the seventeenth time that minute and began drumming his fingers on the armrest in place of his foot anxiously bouncing up and down.
He closed his eyes and relived the moments of suffering Rose had gone through the day before.
Pain had been written all over her face, her voice crying out her agony throughout the room. The Doctor simply had to stand there and watch as the “professional” M.D. doctors did their job to patch Rose up as best they could. He remembered whispering to Rose that he could probably do just as good of a job as these human doctors could.
The human doctors continued to speak words of encouragement to both the Doctor and Rose during the whole process. The Doctor didn’t even register the words; he was too intent on soothing Rose as much as he could.
She had his hand in a death-grip to try and convey to him what exactly she was going through right now, and he made the mistake of leaning down to brush his lips over her forehead which she took as a cue to grasp him by the hair and snarl accusations in his ear. The Doctor yelped when she tugged on his hair hard before letting him go. However when he dejectedly went to leave the room, she caught his hand tenderly in her own and she begged him to stay. How could he refuse?
Then suddenly there was a lot of blood and a lot more crying.
That was 16 hours, 43 minutes, and …32 seconds ago?
Now Rose was sleeping off the trauma to her body and the Doctor was left waiting for her to wake up. The rational half of his mind said that these human doctors had reassured him at least fifty times that Rose was in fact fine, despite her loss of blood, and she should wake up in a few hours, right now all she needed was rest. The slightly less rational third of his mind was running around in circles telling him to try and wake her up and to figure out why she wasn’t awake yet.
He glanced up at the clock, about 8 seconds had passed since he last looked… this was going to drive him spare, he decided.
“Mr. Smith?” A voice called. He didn’t realize that he was the Mr. Smith in question until a hand touched his shoulder. He started then turned to see a nurse, who did not have the face of a cat, give him an apologetic smile.
“Yes, what is it? Is it Rose? Is she still alright?”
“Yes, Mr. Smith, Rose is still fine. Nothing’s changed in five minutes…”
“Good.” He said then slumped back into the chair, he hated waiting like this…
“Mr. Smith, I came to say that you can come and see her now.”
“Her?-Oh!”
The nurse without the face of a cat led him through the hospital to one secluded wing with all sorts of cartoon characters painted on the walls.
“She’s in there.” The nurse without the face of a cat said.
The Doctor looked through the glass and saw a nursery, with all these little plastic cradles sitting on elevated tables, with little bundles of pink or blue lying in them.
“Which one is she?”
The nurse without the face of a cat smiled and pointed to one cradle a little off to the right. “That one.” She said.
The Doctor suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to hold her, to carry her away from that cold generic looking room and keep her wonderfully and perfectly safe and happy.
“Can I hold her?” he could barely get the words past the emotions caught in his throat. He never thought he’d get another chance at being a father. Not since Jenny, and he’d royally mucked that bit up.
“Course!” the nurse without the face of a cat said, and then went to go and retrieve his little baby daughter.
The Doctor couldn’t help but smile when she was placed in his arms. This was his first time holding her. She had only been allowed to sit in Rose’s arms for a moment until she was whisked away to be bathed and swaddled, and there was no way the Doctor was letting her out of his sight now.
“You should probably go back to the room now Mr. Smith. Mrs. Smith will be waking up any minute now.”
The Doctor nodded and said a brief but heartfelt, “Thank you” then made his way back to the room where Rose was still sleeping off her labor.
However, now that his arms were occupied with the tiny pink bundle he wasn’t so anxious.
As he sat in the chair he analyzed the little girl in his arms. His child, his first child with Rose. The Doctor didn’t think he could be any happier until the baby opened her eyes and she smiled. He felt as if his chest was going to burst with joy. She had her mother’s eyes, and her smile. Then he felt a small itch at the back of his mind and he almost didn’t recognize it for what it was until he felt a rush of emotions that weren’t his own. The baby had set up a temporal bond with him and for the first time in oh, so many years, he had someone filling up the empty spaces in his head with a psychic link. Tears sprang to his eyes then.
“Oh, you clever little thing.” He whispered, and showered her with love through their link.
A/N: Review please, I love reviews!!! So this is my first baby!fic ever. Wrote it because little Amelia Sarah-Jane Tyler-Smith (yes that's her name, she needed a really long name) has been rolling around my brain for a while now.
Author: angelofprey
Character/Pairing: Ten/Rose, or TenII/Rose whichever you prefer
Rating: G
Summary: ...Can't say much without giving it away.b>
Disclaimer: I don't Own Doctor Who or the BBC. b>
Author's Notes: Can be read with Ten or TenII whichever one you prefer. b>
The Doctor stared nervously at Rose. He hadn’t slept in the 48 hours they’d been at the hospital. He shifted nervously for the seventeenth time that minute and began drumming his fingers on the armrest in place of his foot anxiously bouncing up and down.
He closed his eyes and relived the moments of suffering Rose had gone through the day before.
Pain had been written all over her face, her voice crying out her agony throughout the room. The Doctor simply had to stand there and watch as the “professional” M.D. doctors did their job to patch Rose up as best they could. He remembered whispering to Rose that he could probably do just as good of a job as these human doctors could.
The human doctors continued to speak words of encouragement to both the Doctor and Rose during the whole process. The Doctor didn’t even register the words; he was too intent on soothing Rose as much as he could.
She had his hand in a death-grip to try and convey to him what exactly she was going through right now, and he made the mistake of leaning down to brush his lips over her forehead which she took as a cue to grasp him by the hair and snarl accusations in his ear. The Doctor yelped when she tugged on his hair hard before letting him go. However when he dejectedly went to leave the room, she caught his hand tenderly in her own and she begged him to stay. How could he refuse?
Then suddenly there was a lot of blood and a lot more crying.
That was 16 hours, 43 minutes, and …32 seconds ago?
Now Rose was sleeping off the trauma to her body and the Doctor was left waiting for her to wake up. The rational half of his mind said that these human doctors had reassured him at least fifty times that Rose was in fact fine, despite her loss of blood, and she should wake up in a few hours, right now all she needed was rest. The slightly less rational third of his mind was running around in circles telling him to try and wake her up and to figure out why she wasn’t awake yet.
He glanced up at the clock, about 8 seconds had passed since he last looked… this was going to drive him spare, he decided.
“Mr. Smith?” A voice called. He didn’t realize that he was the Mr. Smith in question until a hand touched his shoulder. He started then turned to see a nurse, who did not have the face of a cat, give him an apologetic smile.
“Yes, what is it? Is it Rose? Is she still alright?”
“Yes, Mr. Smith, Rose is still fine. Nothing’s changed in five minutes…”
“Good.” He said then slumped back into the chair, he hated waiting like this…
“Mr. Smith, I came to say that you can come and see her now.”
“Her?-Oh!”
The nurse without the face of a cat led him through the hospital to one secluded wing with all sorts of cartoon characters painted on the walls.
“She’s in there.” The nurse without the face of a cat said.
The Doctor looked through the glass and saw a nursery, with all these little plastic cradles sitting on elevated tables, with little bundles of pink or blue lying in them.
“Which one is she?”
The nurse without the face of a cat smiled and pointed to one cradle a little off to the right. “That one.” She said.
The Doctor suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to hold her, to carry her away from that cold generic looking room and keep her wonderfully and perfectly safe and happy.
“Can I hold her?” he could barely get the words past the emotions caught in his throat. He never thought he’d get another chance at being a father. Not since Jenny, and he’d royally mucked that bit up.
“Course!” the nurse without the face of a cat said, and then went to go and retrieve his little baby daughter.
The Doctor couldn’t help but smile when she was placed in his arms. This was his first time holding her. She had only been allowed to sit in Rose’s arms for a moment until she was whisked away to be bathed and swaddled, and there was no way the Doctor was letting her out of his sight now.
“You should probably go back to the room now Mr. Smith. Mrs. Smith will be waking up any minute now.”
The Doctor nodded and said a brief but heartfelt, “Thank you” then made his way back to the room where Rose was still sleeping off her labor.
However, now that his arms were occupied with the tiny pink bundle he wasn’t so anxious.
As he sat in the chair he analyzed the little girl in his arms. His child, his first child with Rose. The Doctor didn’t think he could be any happier until the baby opened her eyes and she smiled. He felt as if his chest was going to burst with joy. She had her mother’s eyes, and her smile. Then he felt a small itch at the back of his mind and he almost didn’t recognize it for what it was until he felt a rush of emotions that weren’t his own. The baby had set up a temporal bond with him and for the first time in oh, so many years, he had someone filling up the empty spaces in his head with a psychic link. Tears sprang to his eyes then.
“Oh, you clever little thing.” He whispered, and showered her with love through their link.
A/N: Review please, I love reviews!!! So this is my first baby!fic ever. Wrote it because little Amelia Sarah-Jane Tyler-Smith (yes that's her name, she needed a really long name) has been rolling around my brain for a while now.