[MitS] 026 - Amica Temporis Part I
[note: This is the continuing ever evolving arc for Rose and the Doctor. This is a completed 49 tag challenge that I've converted to two pieces to post up for posterity in Rose's journal. It follows the events directly after the return to the TARDIS from Gallifrey after Dean dies. This is clearly hours later. Much, much love and adoration go to Rude-not-Ginger for all the tireless efforts!]
May 19th, 2008 ~ 02:23:42 hours
He couldn't sleep, of course. It wasn't as if he'd truly tried. He'd stripped off his clothes, showered, shaved, puttered about in his jim-jams, but never really found his way to his own bed. His arm didn't hurt nearly so bad anymore, but he couldn't seem to stop his stomach from aching. Too much had gone on. His room felt far too empty.
As with most nights, he wandered the TARDIS alone. Rose slept a ridiculous amount of time and there was always so much to do. Still, tonight he just put the kettle on and made some tea and watched it get cold without drinking any. He wished that he could've saved Rose's friend. His friend, in some ways. He felt as if he'd failed. And he worried about Rose. She looked heartbroken and that made failure worse. His failure hurt her. He should've just focused on the fact that he FAILED and that should've been enough, but it made it that much worse. Just a little bit more to push it over the edge into unbearable.
He left the mug of tea on the table and walked around a little more, felt the TARDIS vibrate beneath his feet. He wandered a few more corridors, eventually finding himself at Rose's door. The TARDIS must've been worried about her, he most certainly wasn't walking in the direction of the bedrooms. Was he? No, no, he wasn't.
She was probably sleeping. It wouldn't hurt to check on her, would it? He gently turned the knob on her door and pressed it open, just a little.
It wasn't as if she wanted to sleep at all, but she just wanted to be able to let all the thoughts that were swimming around her head making her chest ache just stop for a moment. She wanted the stillness that should come with resting, that should come with finally being able to stop worrying... because what was left to worry over when a person was just gone? She'd headed to her room after leaving the infirmary. Not really wanting to be alone, but knowing that it was far easier to be alone than to be with the Doctor and all the looming questions she had in her mind, she'd opted for solitary confinement to her room. Rose tugged her hair back into a ponytail only to pull it out a few moments later when she couldn't get her head to rest right on the pillow. Fists nudged the ends of it into the pillowcase, but it didn't make much difference. Yanking the covers off she was too hot and tugged the drawstring pants off of her kicking them to the floor before pulling the sheets back up but leaving the blanket down around the foot of the bed. Restless wasn't even the right word for it, but all she wanted was to be still... to not feel anything but the cool of the sheets and the comfort of her pillow.
When she shut her eyes she wanted to feel the warm press of Dean curled up against her telling her that he was okay. Not even that she'd had wanted him there now... she just wanted someone to be there. The darkness settled in the room, casting shadows on the walls that made her wonder what could be hidden behind the shapes trying to get into her dreams. Each breath she pulled in felt deeper as if her body knew she had to sleep, but her heart wouldn't let it happen. Her back was to the door, but she still heard the knob twist and the slight rattle to the latch that made her twist around to look at the doorway. It reminded her of a few times she'd stepped onto the TARDIS. The way the console room could almost back light him enough to halo him in it all, but now it was the lights from the hallway hitting him, and she shifted onto her side, propping her head up with her elbow, "Hey." It sounded so lacking in everything that she knew she was feeling, but there wasn't many words that could sum up her emotions.
Well, there was no point in trying to be completely quiet. He sighed and pushed the door open a little more so he could see her properly. She looked a little mussed, he could only imagine she'd been sleeping. That was probably the last thing she needed, someone waking her up from a slumber after the sort of day they'd both had.
"Sorry to wake you," he said. "I was just---"
What was he doing? He was in his jim jams, ready for bed, yet he'd never found it. Couldn't even drink his tea and relax. He wanted...well, he wasn't sure what he wanted. Proper rest. He wanted proper rest and he wanted to know she was safe and...if only his mind would stop buzzing at a billion light years a second, he could think how to get what he wanted.
"Making sure you're all right," he finished, lamely.
Her head shook lightly when he made mention of her sleeping, "I wasn't..." she offered softly but never really allowed the sentence to finish. It wasn't as if there was really a point to any of the words she said anyway. His own sentence cut off short as well, and the awkward silence between them wasn't one she was even remotely familiar with. Exhaling lightly she smiled at him, it was sweet of him to be concerned really and she didn't want to placate him with meaningless words because she really wasn't okay. Not by any means of the word at all. Shifting up to seated a bit she let her hands fold in her lap for a moment, her eyes staring down at how they laced together and could easily drift apart if she had something else to hold onto. Her bottom lip trembled slightly for a moment, but as she drew it in against her teeth she met his eyes again, "I'm not alright... mean not at all." Her head shook as she allowed her gaze to shift away from his back to her hands, but soon enough she was meeting his eyes again. "I thought I needed to be alone... that all the questions and all the things I got in my head, the things that hurt could just settle... they could go quiet so I'd sleep and maybe the morning I wouldn't need so many answers... but the morning's gonna come... and I'm still gonna hurt, and people are still going to leave."
Her lips parted as she drew in a deep breath, the near audible gasp behind it held an uneasy shake that she felt in her lungs, edging her closer to tears she didn't want to fall again, "I don't want to be left behind in the end."
She sounded hurt. He could hear it in her voice, in the way she breathed. It reminded her of when she would hold back her tears to be brave and the fact that he already knew what it was like to hear her hold back her tears to be brave made him feel positively horrible. No one should have to be like that. Especially not Rose. What had he done to her?
It was that last thought that made him hesitate before moving towards her. He was contaminating her, turning her more and more like him the more he stayed near her. He thought perhaps he should run. Run and run and keep her safe. But that was what she feared, wasn't it? She feared being left behind.
He stepped inside the room and knelt in front of the bed. Not on it, not even really touching it. Just being closer to her.
"If you live long enough, you're always left behind," he said, hating himself a little for the honesty. "And you and I, Rose, we're survivors. In the end we've just got each other. Which is probably not very helpful, is it? I don't think it is."
Even the small steps he made into her room was something at least she figured. That the warmth she felt was almost too much for her on her own, but might be okay if she knew she wasn't the only one feeling so stifled by their emotions. Moving closer to the edge of the bed where he was kneeling on the floor Rose nodded, "No... not very helpful at all I guess." She laughed a bit, "Well maybe bit yeah. But it still doesn't make the surviving any easier." Her hand reached to rest on his shoulder, close to his neck with her thumb straying at the nape a bit, "Still we've got each other, but forever for me isn't the same as it is for you."
She knew she'd said it to him, thought it with him when he walked her mind and she his... and she knew, more than he might've realized that she knew just what forever was for her in comparison to him. She just didn't care. If he moved on without her... if he'd found some sort of solace in someone else when she was gone she couldn't fault him for that. It wouldn't be fair of her to do that to him, but right now she had him at her side, and with her and she loved him. It felt like that was all that should matter, but when faced with what they'd been through that day... and the few days before... maybe it wasn't enough right now.
Her hand shifted to settle more against his shoulder as she shifted her feet onto the floor, she didn't care that she'd kicked the bottoms off to her usual dress a bit ago as she slid to the ground beside him. He was kneeling which didn't exactly make anything easy at all, but she was tired of being away from him, and tired of the fact that the last time she really felt close to him she'd been a sobbing mess. Now she wanted to know she had him, that they were going to get through this together. Knelt beside him as well, she pressed close to his side, trying to force him to make room for her, because she was there and there wasn't any leaving her now.
It was silly, maybe. After all, she had a warm bed to lie on, but for some reason having her move next to him was so completely comforting. She touched his shoulder and he knew that somehow everything wasn't completely broken. It proved that they could make it. They had to make it. Forever, that's what she said. Granted, she didn't know forever like he knew forever, but he could pretend with her. At least a little bit.
He shifted off his knees to make more room for her. She'd apparently lost her jim jam bottoms and he wondered if it might be more gentlemanly for him to find them for her. But that would require pushing her away and...well, he'd done enough pushing away for the sake of modesty. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close.
"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm so sorry, Rose."
It was probably getting old to hear. It had to be getting old, right? He needed to figure out a different way to apologize. Or figure out how to stop doing things that would require apologies. Well, he'd never been very good at figuring out the latter.
Rose let her eyes fall shut for a moment, just being held and pressed close to him almost made the doubt and questions slip away for a bit. He made the amazing happen, the imposs... the unlikely happen, and for once all she wanted was to remember just how that felt. To know that this was just a small bump in the road, that not knowing the end wasn't truly that bad of a thing. Her hand wrapped around him resting on his opposite shoulder as she pulled in closer to him. It wasn't even a case of wanting anything at all, but she simply needed to have some sort of contact to let her know that it really was going to be okay. She stopped herself at climbing into his lap, satisfied instead at the cool feel of the floor beneath her and the warm press of him against her. The breath she pulled in smelled like him, that clean soapy smell that really always had a hint of something else she'd never sorted out but could never really get enough of. Catching herself taking breaths of him when she'd pull close to him, or off his jacket if he offered it. Bit silly and schoolgirl crush, but she couldn't really help it after a while.
Rose felt herself pulling closer to him now, inching up against him as his words echoed around all the emotion of the day. Still her eyes shut nearly resting a bit as she exhaled again, "I know..." She'd heard him apologize to so many people, he'd had to been sick of the words sooner or later, but she knew he meant them. Every time. Every chance. Twisting herself against him, she let her chin press toward his shoulder a bit, her mouth settling against the crook of his neck where it met shoulder. Her shoulders shifted up a bit as she inhaled, letting her body acclimate itself to the position however uncomfortable still felt comforting because he was still there, not shying away from her for once.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and shifted a bit to make more room for her. The floor was cold. He reached up above their heads for her blanket. It wasn't nearly large enough for them both, but the way she laid on his shoulder, he was certain it would cover them. Well, as long as it covered his feet he'd be all right. Rose was warm against him. Humanly warm, and that was completely comforting for reasons he couldn't quite identify.
It should've been more awkward, he decided. She was pressed up against him wearing so little clothing and he, well, he was in his jim jams, not even a proper suit. And yet...her breath against his neck reminded him that she was alive and with him and that, well, that was so wonderful the awkwardness didn't have room to hang around.
He pulled the blanket over them. He'd reach up for the pillow in a minute, maybe. Maybe. This wasn't so bad as it was. He let his thumb trace circles on her shoulder blade, the texture of her tee rubbing against the ridges in his thumbprint. If he focused, he could almost feel each one. Another comforting thing.
He turned his head and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I would...I won't. Leave you behind. Not again."
The gentle warm press of his mouth to her forehead stirred a deep emotion from her, shown simply in the knitting of her brows as she in turn tried in some feeble attempt to move closer to him still. Instead all it ended up doing was shifting her mouth against skin nuzzling up a bit nearer his neck to the point where the only way for her to get comfortable was to allow her forehead to press there instead. He'd made an attempt at least, the blanket covering them, and his hand tracing small patterns against her shoulder blade, but it wasn't exactly right. Not that being seated on the floor beside him had a right way at all, but it really wasn't enough and each time she tried to shift against him closer it became more and more apparent to her. The closer she wanted to be to him the less room she felt like she had to do it. Her feet shifted beneath herself the slight numbing sensation starting with a slow pin-prickle feeling growing in the arch of her foot. It wasn't that bad, but even letting her foot move was only going to delay the whole thing falling asleep on her.
Her forehead still pressed close to his shoulder she tipped her head aside, laying against him easily as her eyes opened for a moment. She could tell he'd shaved, that smoothness of his skin now there when before she could nearly count the days he'd been without one. Her hand strayed up to brush against the surface of his cheek, backs of her knuckles lightly grazing against him. "You shaved," her words more of an observance of the obvious than anything else really. Letting her hand drop to rest upon one of his hearts she sighed, "My foot's gonna fall asleep like this, but I don't want you to leave either."
Her fingertips against his cheek felt good, just like her breath against his neck. It was all very...well, the only word coming to mind was "nice" but he was certain that there would have to be a lot going into "nice" to make it sum the whole thing up.
"My ankle's a bit pretzeled as well, we could..." How to ask this and not sound terribly rude? "Move to your bed, maybe? I mean, just to sleep, I'm not---well, I mean, we could try stretching out on the floor, too?" It would certainly be more comfortable, if also more intimate.
Oh, he was ridiculous when it came to intimate situations. Especially intimate situations that involved bedrooms. Especially intimate situations that involved bedrooms and Rose. Well, the last he'd only just discovered but it certainly took the cake.
"If you'd like? I...don't want to go." Not yet, at least. He needed her, and that was something he was loathe to admit out loud even if he'd allowed himself to admit it in his mind.
The floor was cool, and part of her wanted to feel that pressing against the heat of her skin, but she also knew that eventually she'd get a pinch in her neck, or her body would adjust to the temperature and she'd be cold again and they'd have to move to the bed. It still felt a bit odd to assume that he'd be in her bed with her. Even Mickey'd never been in her bed on the TARDIS. He was always puttering about the halls looking for things to see that he'd never seen before that she always ended up curled up in his bed waiting for him to meander back to his room. She'd be asleep by then, but still it was comforting to have him shove her aside so he'd sleep beside her. The Doctor hadn't often even been in her room, the few times was mostly to tell her they'd landed somewhere fantastic and she had to see the sun rise... or set.
This was so different for both of them, even after everything on Gallifrey they'd still gone to their own rooms... which Rose now realized was for reasons other than needing a bit of space. Her hand brushed to her face, knuckles pushing her hair out of her face as she stifled a yawn against him, "I'm not tired... really." Honestly she was more exhausted than tired, and as her body shifted against him again she pushed up to her feet. Bare legs from the tops of her thighs to her toes caught the pale light from the hallway as she extended her hand down toward her thigh for the Doctor, "Floors too cold, just lay next to me... till I fall asleep then yeah?"
He wondered if she'd believe him if he told her he'd not done this sort of thing before. Companions sometimes breached the lines between friend and lover, but never on the TARDIS, and certainly never in their rooms. Not that this was going to become...he wasn't thinking along those lines. Well, no, that was fairly impossible for him not to be thinking along those lines with Rose's legs exposed like that. But he had a good deal of self-control, especially in regards to that sort of thing. And this was less about sexuality and more about, well, needing someone. Her.
"Yeah, 'course I will." He took her extended hand and held it.
He reached his other hand to touch her cheek. She was so young, he realized, looking at her features in the light of the doorway. Her eyes were clear and bright. She was such the opposite of him in so may ways. It was why they worked well, he decided. She was youth and vitality when he became cold and dark.
"I warn you, though, my feet are always cold."
It was almost the opposite of how it usually went. His hand was always offered to her to take, and now standing there he put his hand into hers, and all she thought to do was hold onto it a bit tighter. Reassuring herself that this wasn't anything wrong at all. Shutting her eyes for a moment she exhaled before opening them again, a smile reflected in her eyes more than the corners of her mouth as his touch was soft to her cheek. Rose let herself lean a bit into it smirking at his remark about his feet, "Yeah, yeah." Her reply was still soft and her voice low, not the usual annoyed tone that came with that pairing of words. With him standing before her she moved in closer to him letting her arms wrap against him just for a moment hugging him and letting her head rest to his chest, hearing the twin beats of his hearts for a bit. Pressing up on tip toes she placed a kiss beneath his chin, chaste and meaning nothing more than a simple show of appreciation for him actually coming to check on her, of not knowing what she needed but still wondering if he could help her.
Pulling away from him she moved onto her bed, kneeling her way across to the further side, where she usually ended up falling asleep anyway. Never really picking a side to the bed in life meant that she'd easily sleep wherever she was, but on the TARDIS she always stayed away from the door. Some psychological barrier she figured to not wanting to be close to whatever was going to venture into her room. Of course she never thought it'd be the Doctor. Her feet shoved beneath the covers for a moment as she turned onto her side to wait for him to climb into the bed. Meeting his eyes she let a laugh of a breath come from her lightly, "Come on... cold feet an' all."
He wasn't nervous. That is, he wasn't very nervous. That is, his nervousness existed on several levels and all of them were very deep and serious. There was so much implied by sleeping with someone in a bed. Especially a woman whom one had recently admitted certain feelings towards. But his mind was always overreacting to little things. To handholding that lingered a little too long and....generally foolish things.
If Rose could hear his brain, she'd probably roll her eyes and say 'You're just being the Doctor.' As if he were a noun, or perhaps a state of mind.
Speaking of, he began to ramble, if quietly. "Well, it's the lowered Gallifreyan body temperature, keeps the skin at a constantly lower state and the extremities like my feet tend to get colder! S'why I always wear so many socks, can't have them getting too cold it's just too distracting..."
He moved to the bed and slipped in next to her. The mattress was still warm, and significantly softer than his own. Cushy and soft. He laid his head down on the pillow and moved to his side to look at her. He grew quiet and tried to calm his suddenly hyperactive brain. Well, "suddenly" meaning "it had been hyperactive but now it was annoyingly loud and hyperactive." He cursed his brain for not even allowing him a few moments of peace with Rose.
Her hand rested beneath her pillow, the cool surface warming with her touch despite her being on the colder floor for a while. Her hand reached out to cradle against his cheek again. That smoothness of his skin under her touch, and the warmth of him too was something she really liked knowing. Her thoughts wandered a bit in the silence after he'd gone on about his extremities, wondering if this was uncomfortable for him, or if he didn't want to be there like this with her. It wasn't that she thought he actually minded it, but she knew how he got around her most times. Averting his eyes, trying not to see her when she clearly was trying to make him see her. But she didn't even want to be seen in the moment. This wasn't about anything that normally came from two people curled up close in these desperate moments and she knew it.
Leaving her hand to rest to his cheek she inched closer to him, letting herself fit against him. Her hand slipped away from his cheek, and settled to his chest close to where her cheek pressed. The top of her head situated beneath his chin nearly fit perfectly in comparison to him. Drawn close to him she could feel the exhale of his breath from his lungs, the deepness that they drew in. "He sold his soul... Dean did. For Sam." Rose wasn't even sure where her muttered words were headed but she knew she still had a lot of thought going on in her head about the whole thing. "Means... he's not with.. like family. Yeah?" It wasn't even that Rose wanted to believe in notions like Heaven and Hell, but if there was such a thing as being able to sell your soul... she had to believe there was someplace that those people had to go.
He felt his mind start to quiet when she shifted to move next to him. The way she fit, well, it felt so natural there wasn't a real reason to fret. It was like she belonged there. And, really, timeline permitting, she did. Rose Tyler and the Doctor. He doubted there was a universe out there that contained them both and they hadn't met. And she comforted.
He wrapped his arm around her and held her to him. He could accept the comfort, but he didn't really know how to give it in return. He was so bad at this sort of thing. Good at making people afraid or cry, but bad at making them feel better. He was the Doctor. He wanted to make people better, but he failed. Often.
He wanted to fix that with Rose.
At her words, he drew a breath and tried to think of the right sort of response. She wouldn't want a lie, that'd just make her angry and possibly kick him out (which he really didn't want at this moment). But he didn't want to hurt her with what he truly believed.
"I think Dean's living---or, uh, afterliving---with hope, even if he has nothing else. You know Sam, Rose. Won't let him go, will he? He's trapped but that hope keeps you going."
His words echoed in his chest, the vibration of what he said pressing to her cheek and sounding different as she listened to it from beneath him, hearing the words as they were inside of him almost. Nodding against him she drew her shoulders in a bit beneath his grasp. She let her back stretch out a bit pulled taut as she took in a deep breath. Even though what he said was hard to accept, she also knew that Sam wasn't going to just give up. That determination to help... to do whatever it was that one could to make it all fit together, to make that difference was something she knew extremely well. Something she still felt every time she moved through the console room of the TARDIS. Something she knew the TARDIS felt too.
Rose let her body shift again, her knee pressing between his just so that she was more settled against him, instead of feeling like her top half was so far from her lower half. Plus the feel of the fabric of his jim jams was comforting a bit against the smoothness of her skin. She could almost feel the rough hair from his legs, a smirk curving up in the corners of her mouth since she'd never really even seen his legs bare. There was that time in the marshes he hiked them up near his knees, but she was so miserable that she barely noticed. Now though she almost wanted to feel that roughness against her legs, the stark contrast of the smoothness of his cheek with the hair on his legs pinning her knee in place. She didn't dare say it though, nor would she even want to think much beyond the slight sensation that she could feel it beneath the light material.
Her legs were smooth and warm, though he wasn't about to let himself dwell on that, even as she moved her leg to be pinned between his knees. Like the bed and this room, the parts of Rose were so much less sharp and hard than the parts of him. There was never really an appropriate time to appraise his companion's legs, though she'd worn skirts often enough. There was just always so much to do, so many things to run to. Not really time to stop and, well, think. Appraise. Consider.
Like Rose's hair. He knew what it looked like and felt like, but right now from their position he could really consider how it smelled, what it felt like against his cheek as it spilled on the pillow. He could really consider Rose, as well. No end of the universe, no Daleks, no immanent destruction to stop them from just being together.
He mimicked her action with her hand, reaching his own out to touch her cheek. She was only half-lit, but he tried to make out her expression. What did that little smile mean? Did his words help? Oh, but he was so bad with intimacy. Give him the universe ending and he'd be all right. He always fouled up intimate situations.
"It's hope that keeps you lot going no matter what," he said. "That's why I admire you. You know, all of you."
Rose felt safe buried against him like this. Even the light covering of the bed-sheet didn't seem to really matter too much since she had his arm around her and his legs keeping hers in place. Everything felt still, to the point where she almost expected it all to go wrong. But the wrong never came, instead just the steady sound of the Doctor's hearts beating beneath his chest. The steady intake of air that rose his chest to meet to her cheek a bit fuller, a bit more solid for contact. His hand brushed to her cheek lightly and she felt that caress of a touch that felt like it could've meant more if they hadn't been discussing death. Once more she listened the echo of his words felt the way his chin rocked against the top of her head as she spoke.
She didn't really want to shift away from him, but she knew that she couldn't allow herself to want to press her leg in closer to him, or to tug at the collar of his shirt to press a kiss to the warmth of his neck simply because it was there. But the thought was there for her, and the notion and all the will power to tell her exactly why that wasn't right was slipping away the more comfortable she felt beside him. So she eased away from him a bit, shifting so that she was still close to him, but her limbs no longer tangled against his, and her mouth not so close to his chest. Instead she was settled on her back, her head rested still beneath his chin, and her cheek still close to his body. Just the rest of her wasn't so attached at the hip as it were.
Now her hand rested against his arm, as it was pulled across their bodies as she shifted away. Fingertip tracing lightly along the sleeve against his forearm and trying to avoid his elbow since she thought she recalled something about him being ticklish or something there. Last thing she wanted was for him to laugh or something. Her hand moved to the cuff of his shirt pushing it up a bit just so she could trace against skin instead of feeling her nail rake into small divots of threading. Once more she found herself thinking about how she didn't often see his arms or legs, always underneath layers of suit and shirt and coat sleeves. Though she'd seen his arm earlier when she'd bandaged it. Now the wrapping was reset, more careful and actually a bit smaller of a bandage.
"You lot.. make us sound like a herd or something. Cattle," Rose wasn't even sure why she picked up on that word instead of the hope part of it, but she had. It wasn't even a pessimistic tone, just one of casual observance picking apart things he said since he'd said them. "Even with all the hope though... we still worry. Still feel like we can't do enough, or do too much even. Just never seems to really work out easy. Not that it's s'posed to." Her back arched up a bit shifting once more, feeling a light bit of cracking along her spine before she settled back in. Her hand rested against the bandage again, "Wrapped it again after the shower... s'why you smell good."
"Not cattle, never cattle. Each human is unique and completely fascinating, yet you all have similar ideals that keep you together. Love, aspiration, hope. Oh, not all of them are perfect, but there aren't that many creatures in the universe with such capacity for goodness, with such creativity and possibility..." But he was starting to ramble, he realized. Oh, how difficult it was to explain to Rose why Earth was his favorite planet. The people on it. The things they could do.
She moved away from him, very slightly, so that she was not quite so closely pressed. The part of him that was relieved to see her more clearly was not nearly so large as the part of him that missed the closeness. Still, she was there and he was there and this all felt rather surreal, actually. Her finger traced along his arm, deftly avoiding the bend in his elbow. Probably for the best, the last thing he needed to stop his concentration was Rose toying with one of his (albeit unusual for a human) erogenous zones.
"Venusian aftershave," he said with a slight nod. "I vaguely remember the saleswoman telling me it drove some sort of person something or other. The bottle is silver and shiny, though."
He smelled her hair again, this time a little more obvious. "As for you, you smell good because of your shampoo. Is that...Nutella?" It was pretty much impossible to stop him from smelling things. Or tasting them, if need be.
Smirking in response to his comments always came so easily to her, but now it felt almost forced. The conversation was good though, light and not exactly upsetting her. It still was a bit odd to be lying beside the Doctor in her bedroom, in her bed as if they'd just been intimate and were now discussing their day. For some friends it might've seen somewhat normal, but for Rose it actually felt like a forward momentum. So much had happened that she was having a rough time sorting through it and finding out what exactly she felt. Dean had been a friend of hers, and they'd spent some time together, her birthday was one to really put down to the books and it wasn't like she'd forget the feel of him anytime soon.
Hearing the Doctor rattle off about his aftershave drew a smirk from her once more though, "Yeah you're a fan of the shiny things. Swear you're more easily distracted than a raccoon in a silverware bin." At the end of her comment she found herself pulling in closer to him again, her hand resting on his arm still but stilled instead of the slow tracing lines being drawn. The press of his mouth atop her head stilled her for a moment, letting her eyes shut as he smelled her hair. It was the sort of thing he normally tried to hide, but she usually could tell when he did it. Her eyes opened when he asked her about the scent though, "D'you just ask me if shampoo with a hazelnut chocolate spread? Mean really?"
"Well, I don't know these things. Does it look like I take care of my hair. Big as it is?" It was even more askew after the shower and the puttering about. "You could use it to...condition! Or just make it smell sweet."
It was good, talking about nothing. He wasn't usually one to take in small talk---lots of talk but none of it small---but with Rose it didn't feel wrong. Maybe it was because so much had just happened, small words felt easier. They felt more appropriate. His mind was still buzzing like an annoying gnat, focusing on not being too close but not being far away and why had her hand stopped moving and what did that expression on her face mean and was that the right carburetor valve going out again?
It was one of those moments he wished he could be human. Have a normal brain that wasn't drawn into eighty million different directions and just enjoy a moment with his companion. Even with everything that had happened, wasn't he allowed that?
"I can't help it, they're shiny! And it smells all right, you said so!"
Rose's hand strayed from her side to brush up to her forehead, the back of her hand cool to the touch as it rested there before running into her hair. Her hair that was not conditioned with Nutella, "Can't even imagine how'd I'd even do that. Mean it's a spread, like peanut butter. It's not that anyway. It's some stuff I picked up at some market. Don't even recall. Smelled good, seemed like it'd work for all sorts'a water."
Her hand went from her hair into his after that though, "Yours is not so bad. Still think you do somethin' to it. You just don't tell people you do. Make it seem like it's all on accident," Rose's fingers flexed a bit in his hair, feeling the softness of it now that it had just been washed. Still had a bit of the spring to it, she swore he put something in it straight out of the shower. But it wasn't like she'd ever go watch his morning routine too much. Helped him shave once, that was about it for that sort of thing.
With her hand in his hair she shifted again to face him more, not quite the buried against him that she'd been earlier, but still enough to meet his eyes as her hands teased into his hair. "Yeah, smells alright, bit more, but that's just normal." She thought of the natural way Jack smelled. That sort of odd alluring draw that a whiff of him could cause. Something about alien men from the future maybe had to be something documented about their pheromones or something. The back of her foot curved up against her calf a bit letting her knee graze against the Doctor's leg once more, even as her eyes still caught his gaze. It'd be really easy to lean forward and kiss him, to just reach out and connect to him like that, but the fact that it was so easy made her almost wish for the challenge.
Instead she settled back against him, pressing closer to him once more. Resting on her back still, but feeling her side pressing to him, the bare skin on her hip teased by the drawstring on the bottoms he'd worn to sleep. Knowing he loved her was one thing, but Rose often wondered if she did more than that for him. If the love could transcend beyond the emotion into the physicality of it more than just a kiss. Now with her hip and thigh pressed against him she wondered if his thoughts were milling around the way she felt, or if it was more Nutella and parts of the TARDIS he thought he heard.
"I like it. Good with bananas."
He tried to keep the conversation light, but the situation itself settled in his hyperactive mind as very serious. Maybe it was just the way they were. The way they laid together, how her hip grazed his trousers and how her hand felt in his hair. It should not have been so serious, he decided. After all, what was the point of being close to a human (one of the most tactile creatures he'd ever met) and not engage in tactile sensations?
Wait.
Not all sorts of tactile sensations.
Even though they were in a bed and---oh, there went his mind again.
He traced a finger down one of her arms, from the sleeve of her t-shirt to the bend in her wrist. It could've been an idle movement, but he'd become rather preoccupied with the feel of her skin, how warm it was. He knew what her hand felt like, what her cheek felt like, but the rest...well, that was something he hadn't really thought about before.
Not very often. Not terribly often. Occasionally.
Each time Rose pulled in a breath she tried not to make it much deeper than she needed it to be. The rise and fall of her chest felt like something that now she wasn't the only one really taking notice of. Still as his finger traced along her arm, and eased past the crook of her elbow and drifted to her wrist she knew her breathing grew a lot deeper, and her exhalation came a bit more staggered. Her hand stilled in his hair a bit before it pulled back out, the edge of her fingers grazing against his jaw just beneath his ear and finally moving so her hand rested to his shoulder, and then against his chest.
This would've been the time for soft spoken words talking about emotions or how things felt between them. For some reason or maybe a hundred others all she wanted was the silence. The sound of her breathing, the steady thrum of her pulse beating a bit more rapid in her chest and echoing in her ears. No matter how much she tried not to pull herself against him again she couldn't find any real way to stop herself in that moment. That single brush of his fingers to her skin and she nearly ached to feel more of it. All this time, all these hours and timelines they'd crossed over and into and here all she wanted was for time to stop.
Rose let her body roll once more, shifting back to press to him again. It felt more solid this time, as if the way she fit to him before wasn't nearly perfect enough. Now though, now with her head fit beneath his chin once more and her knee slipping back between his legs, she fit. With her hand moving up across his chest and back over his shoulder she pulled herself against him, just wanting to be this way with him, whatever 'this way' was.
He didn't really understand intimacy, he decided. It didn't make sense, needing someone physically. Oh, he liked hugs and handholding and that sort of thing. But this? This was really foreign to him. His lovers in the past had told him he wasn't a "cuddler", probably because he didn't understand the need to hold someone.
But now? Right now? He wanted to hold Rose. She needed him and, well, she felt rather nice there, entwined with him like this. It was like she filled in his hard and cold places with her warmth and softness. Even how her head tucked underneath his chin felt good. It felt right. Like she belonged there.
Of course, he could've just been projecting an emotional response to a physical situation. Of course Rose didn't belong curled up like this with him. But he wasn't denying his feelings for her, and he didn't doubt they made her presence feel that much more right.
He wrapped one arm around her, pressing his hand to the small of her back. Her skin there was as warm as the skin on her arm, perhaps a little warmer. He swallowed, realizing his mind had gone rather silent all of a sudden. Maybe it was stunned by how the situation had suddenly progressed. First it was idle conversation and closeness, now they were entwined and silent.
The weight of his hand to the small of her back forced her breath inward once more, her eyes to shut almost as if her body was set still on the edge of hoping that she hadn't made a mistake by doing this. They'd been close before but she'd pulled back, put that space between them. To return to the near intimacy felt as if she was reaffirming to him some underlying intent that even she was sure was there, despite not wanting it to be. Rose didn't want to want this sort of contact with him, but here she was entangled with him in her bed breathing him in with silence surrounding them.
Words might take the tension out of the way, shove something between them like actual conversation once more. Yet the silence that was surrounding them felt like a way to muffle so much more than just the words she didn't know where to place, or her hand that was still so secure right where it had been resting. She could've moved it, could've let her fingers press up to their tips and slink down along his spine but she didn't want that... even if it really was what she felt like she wanted. To be held, to just have him fit to her in all the ways she never thought he would felt like nearly enough. Too much almost if she thought about it too much. Because this really wasn't natural for them, natural for so much of the world... of the universe but never for Rose and the Doctor.
Death wasn't a natural thing though, neither was most of what they witnessed and maybe that was why breaking beyond this barrier for the moment felt like it would be okay still in the morning. She knew she wasn't the type to want to curl up along side someone simply to fall asleep, and needed her space, her privacy as much as she was certain he needed his.
Yet here in this moment she needed him, and he was willing to be that for her. So Rose took it as he offered with the press of his hand to her back and the way his chin rested atop her head. She took it as she shifted her features to bury against his neck once more, her mouth pressing warmth back to his skin. She took it all as her breathing in deeper pushed her curves against his chest and then away as she exhaled. If he'd give her the world she'd have taken that in too just so that she knew she wasn't quite as alone as she felt.
He always had something to say. Be it about politics or guns or the Ice Capades, he always had something to say, and it was usually quite brilliant. But right now? Right this moment? He was speechless. He couldn't think of something to break up the tension or even ask her what she might want, all he could do was hold her. Holding her was easy, comfortable, and didn't require pesky words.
His thumb traced over the skin of her back as he held her. A small circle, nothing too ridiculous or complicated. It was a very simple motion to keep the rest of him still. In his life he often felt like a shark; he had to keep swimming, keep moving. But right now he didn't want to move, didn't want to change how comfortable he and Rose were.
Maybe that was why they'd never progressed much further than very close friends. He was always too afraid of moving forward, of disrupting the comfortable. Romana once told him that by the time he figured out what he wanted, the woman he loved would have already moved on, gotten married, had a bunch of kids, and completely forgotten him. But he had time with Rose, didn't he? He always worked under the impression that she wasn't going to leave, that meant he had time. Right?
She shifted again, this time her mouth near his throat, her breath warm on his neck. It was not an unsensual sensation and somewhere in his mind he thought he should remark on that. Instead, all he could think was how very alive she felt next to him. Breathing, her single heart beating against him. There had been a lot of unnecessary death in the last two days and the part of him that refused to show itself during the battle began to surface. The part of him that was afraid. It was the part of him that locked Rose away from the battle, that always, always locked her away from even the possibility of dying.
He was afraid of losing her.
"Rose." His voice found itself again, albeit quiet, just a whisper.
[continued here.]
May 19th, 2008 ~ 02:23:42 hours
He couldn't sleep, of course. It wasn't as if he'd truly tried. He'd stripped off his clothes, showered, shaved, puttered about in his jim-jams, but never really found his way to his own bed. His arm didn't hurt nearly so bad anymore, but he couldn't seem to stop his stomach from aching. Too much had gone on. His room felt far too empty.
As with most nights, he wandered the TARDIS alone. Rose slept a ridiculous amount of time and there was always so much to do. Still, tonight he just put the kettle on and made some tea and watched it get cold without drinking any. He wished that he could've saved Rose's friend. His friend, in some ways. He felt as if he'd failed. And he worried about Rose. She looked heartbroken and that made failure worse. His failure hurt her. He should've just focused on the fact that he FAILED and that should've been enough, but it made it that much worse. Just a little bit more to push it over the edge into unbearable.
He left the mug of tea on the table and walked around a little more, felt the TARDIS vibrate beneath his feet. He wandered a few more corridors, eventually finding himself at Rose's door. The TARDIS must've been worried about her, he most certainly wasn't walking in the direction of the bedrooms. Was he? No, no, he wasn't.
She was probably sleeping. It wouldn't hurt to check on her, would it? He gently turned the knob on her door and pressed it open, just a little.
It wasn't as if she wanted to sleep at all, but she just wanted to be able to let all the thoughts that were swimming around her head making her chest ache just stop for a moment. She wanted the stillness that should come with resting, that should come with finally being able to stop worrying... because what was left to worry over when a person was just gone? She'd headed to her room after leaving the infirmary. Not really wanting to be alone, but knowing that it was far easier to be alone than to be with the Doctor and all the looming questions she had in her mind, she'd opted for solitary confinement to her room. Rose tugged her hair back into a ponytail only to pull it out a few moments later when she couldn't get her head to rest right on the pillow. Fists nudged the ends of it into the pillowcase, but it didn't make much difference. Yanking the covers off she was too hot and tugged the drawstring pants off of her kicking them to the floor before pulling the sheets back up but leaving the blanket down around the foot of the bed. Restless wasn't even the right word for it, but all she wanted was to be still... to not feel anything but the cool of the sheets and the comfort of her pillow.
When she shut her eyes she wanted to feel the warm press of Dean curled up against her telling her that he was okay. Not even that she'd had wanted him there now... she just wanted someone to be there. The darkness settled in the room, casting shadows on the walls that made her wonder what could be hidden behind the shapes trying to get into her dreams. Each breath she pulled in felt deeper as if her body knew she had to sleep, but her heart wouldn't let it happen. Her back was to the door, but she still heard the knob twist and the slight rattle to the latch that made her twist around to look at the doorway. It reminded her of a few times she'd stepped onto the TARDIS. The way the console room could almost back light him enough to halo him in it all, but now it was the lights from the hallway hitting him, and she shifted onto her side, propping her head up with her elbow, "Hey." It sounded so lacking in everything that she knew she was feeling, but there wasn't many words that could sum up her emotions.
Well, there was no point in trying to be completely quiet. He sighed and pushed the door open a little more so he could see her properly. She looked a little mussed, he could only imagine she'd been sleeping. That was probably the last thing she needed, someone waking her up from a slumber after the sort of day they'd both had.
"Sorry to wake you," he said. "I was just---"
What was he doing? He was in his jim jams, ready for bed, yet he'd never found it. Couldn't even drink his tea and relax. He wanted...well, he wasn't sure what he wanted. Proper rest. He wanted proper rest and he wanted to know she was safe and...if only his mind would stop buzzing at a billion light years a second, he could think how to get what he wanted.
"Making sure you're all right," he finished, lamely.
Her head shook lightly when he made mention of her sleeping, "I wasn't..." she offered softly but never really allowed the sentence to finish. It wasn't as if there was really a point to any of the words she said anyway. His own sentence cut off short as well, and the awkward silence between them wasn't one she was even remotely familiar with. Exhaling lightly she smiled at him, it was sweet of him to be concerned really and she didn't want to placate him with meaningless words because she really wasn't okay. Not by any means of the word at all. Shifting up to seated a bit she let her hands fold in her lap for a moment, her eyes staring down at how they laced together and could easily drift apart if she had something else to hold onto. Her bottom lip trembled slightly for a moment, but as she drew it in against her teeth she met his eyes again, "I'm not alright... mean not at all." Her head shook as she allowed her gaze to shift away from his back to her hands, but soon enough she was meeting his eyes again. "I thought I needed to be alone... that all the questions and all the things I got in my head, the things that hurt could just settle... they could go quiet so I'd sleep and maybe the morning I wouldn't need so many answers... but the morning's gonna come... and I'm still gonna hurt, and people are still going to leave."
Her lips parted as she drew in a deep breath, the near audible gasp behind it held an uneasy shake that she felt in her lungs, edging her closer to tears she didn't want to fall again, "I don't want to be left behind in the end."
She sounded hurt. He could hear it in her voice, in the way she breathed. It reminded her of when she would hold back her tears to be brave and the fact that he already knew what it was like to hear her hold back her tears to be brave made him feel positively horrible. No one should have to be like that. Especially not Rose. What had he done to her?
It was that last thought that made him hesitate before moving towards her. He was contaminating her, turning her more and more like him the more he stayed near her. He thought perhaps he should run. Run and run and keep her safe. But that was what she feared, wasn't it? She feared being left behind.
He stepped inside the room and knelt in front of the bed. Not on it, not even really touching it. Just being closer to her.
"If you live long enough, you're always left behind," he said, hating himself a little for the honesty. "And you and I, Rose, we're survivors. In the end we've just got each other. Which is probably not very helpful, is it? I don't think it is."
Even the small steps he made into her room was something at least she figured. That the warmth she felt was almost too much for her on her own, but might be okay if she knew she wasn't the only one feeling so stifled by their emotions. Moving closer to the edge of the bed where he was kneeling on the floor Rose nodded, "No... not very helpful at all I guess." She laughed a bit, "Well maybe bit yeah. But it still doesn't make the surviving any easier." Her hand reached to rest on his shoulder, close to his neck with her thumb straying at the nape a bit, "Still we've got each other, but forever for me isn't the same as it is for you."
She knew she'd said it to him, thought it with him when he walked her mind and she his... and she knew, more than he might've realized that she knew just what forever was for her in comparison to him. She just didn't care. If he moved on without her... if he'd found some sort of solace in someone else when she was gone she couldn't fault him for that. It wouldn't be fair of her to do that to him, but right now she had him at her side, and with her and she loved him. It felt like that was all that should matter, but when faced with what they'd been through that day... and the few days before... maybe it wasn't enough right now.
Her hand shifted to settle more against his shoulder as she shifted her feet onto the floor, she didn't care that she'd kicked the bottoms off to her usual dress a bit ago as she slid to the ground beside him. He was kneeling which didn't exactly make anything easy at all, but she was tired of being away from him, and tired of the fact that the last time she really felt close to him she'd been a sobbing mess. Now she wanted to know she had him, that they were going to get through this together. Knelt beside him as well, she pressed close to his side, trying to force him to make room for her, because she was there and there wasn't any leaving her now.
It was silly, maybe. After all, she had a warm bed to lie on, but for some reason having her move next to him was so completely comforting. She touched his shoulder and he knew that somehow everything wasn't completely broken. It proved that they could make it. They had to make it. Forever, that's what she said. Granted, she didn't know forever like he knew forever, but he could pretend with her. At least a little bit.
He shifted off his knees to make more room for her. She'd apparently lost her jim jam bottoms and he wondered if it might be more gentlemanly for him to find them for her. But that would require pushing her away and...well, he'd done enough pushing away for the sake of modesty. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close.
"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm so sorry, Rose."
It was probably getting old to hear. It had to be getting old, right? He needed to figure out a different way to apologize. Or figure out how to stop doing things that would require apologies. Well, he'd never been very good at figuring out the latter.
Rose let her eyes fall shut for a moment, just being held and pressed close to him almost made the doubt and questions slip away for a bit. He made the amazing happen, the imposs... the unlikely happen, and for once all she wanted was to remember just how that felt. To know that this was just a small bump in the road, that not knowing the end wasn't truly that bad of a thing. Her hand wrapped around him resting on his opposite shoulder as she pulled in closer to him. It wasn't even a case of wanting anything at all, but she simply needed to have some sort of contact to let her know that it really was going to be okay. She stopped herself at climbing into his lap, satisfied instead at the cool feel of the floor beneath her and the warm press of him against her. The breath she pulled in smelled like him, that clean soapy smell that really always had a hint of something else she'd never sorted out but could never really get enough of. Catching herself taking breaths of him when she'd pull close to him, or off his jacket if he offered it. Bit silly and schoolgirl crush, but she couldn't really help it after a while.
Rose felt herself pulling closer to him now, inching up against him as his words echoed around all the emotion of the day. Still her eyes shut nearly resting a bit as she exhaled again, "I know..." She'd heard him apologize to so many people, he'd had to been sick of the words sooner or later, but she knew he meant them. Every time. Every chance. Twisting herself against him, she let her chin press toward his shoulder a bit, her mouth settling against the crook of his neck where it met shoulder. Her shoulders shifted up a bit as she inhaled, letting her body acclimate itself to the position however uncomfortable still felt comforting because he was still there, not shying away from her for once.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and shifted a bit to make more room for her. The floor was cold. He reached up above their heads for her blanket. It wasn't nearly large enough for them both, but the way she laid on his shoulder, he was certain it would cover them. Well, as long as it covered his feet he'd be all right. Rose was warm against him. Humanly warm, and that was completely comforting for reasons he couldn't quite identify.
It should've been more awkward, he decided. She was pressed up against him wearing so little clothing and he, well, he was in his jim jams, not even a proper suit. And yet...her breath against his neck reminded him that she was alive and with him and that, well, that was so wonderful the awkwardness didn't have room to hang around.
He pulled the blanket over them. He'd reach up for the pillow in a minute, maybe. Maybe. This wasn't so bad as it was. He let his thumb trace circles on her shoulder blade, the texture of her tee rubbing against the ridges in his thumbprint. If he focused, he could almost feel each one. Another comforting thing.
He turned his head and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I would...I won't. Leave you behind. Not again."
The gentle warm press of his mouth to her forehead stirred a deep emotion from her, shown simply in the knitting of her brows as she in turn tried in some feeble attempt to move closer to him still. Instead all it ended up doing was shifting her mouth against skin nuzzling up a bit nearer his neck to the point where the only way for her to get comfortable was to allow her forehead to press there instead. He'd made an attempt at least, the blanket covering them, and his hand tracing small patterns against her shoulder blade, but it wasn't exactly right. Not that being seated on the floor beside him had a right way at all, but it really wasn't enough and each time she tried to shift against him closer it became more and more apparent to her. The closer she wanted to be to him the less room she felt like she had to do it. Her feet shifted beneath herself the slight numbing sensation starting with a slow pin-prickle feeling growing in the arch of her foot. It wasn't that bad, but even letting her foot move was only going to delay the whole thing falling asleep on her.
Her forehead still pressed close to his shoulder she tipped her head aside, laying against him easily as her eyes opened for a moment. She could tell he'd shaved, that smoothness of his skin now there when before she could nearly count the days he'd been without one. Her hand strayed up to brush against the surface of his cheek, backs of her knuckles lightly grazing against him. "You shaved," her words more of an observance of the obvious than anything else really. Letting her hand drop to rest upon one of his hearts she sighed, "My foot's gonna fall asleep like this, but I don't want you to leave either."
Her fingertips against his cheek felt good, just like her breath against his neck. It was all very...well, the only word coming to mind was "nice" but he was certain that there would have to be a lot going into "nice" to make it sum the whole thing up.
"My ankle's a bit pretzeled as well, we could..." How to ask this and not sound terribly rude? "Move to your bed, maybe? I mean, just to sleep, I'm not---well, I mean, we could try stretching out on the floor, too?" It would certainly be more comfortable, if also more intimate.
Oh, he was ridiculous when it came to intimate situations. Especially intimate situations that involved bedrooms. Especially intimate situations that involved bedrooms and Rose. Well, the last he'd only just discovered but it certainly took the cake.
"If you'd like? I...don't want to go." Not yet, at least. He needed her, and that was something he was loathe to admit out loud even if he'd allowed himself to admit it in his mind.
The floor was cool, and part of her wanted to feel that pressing against the heat of her skin, but she also knew that eventually she'd get a pinch in her neck, or her body would adjust to the temperature and she'd be cold again and they'd have to move to the bed. It still felt a bit odd to assume that he'd be in her bed with her. Even Mickey'd never been in her bed on the TARDIS. He was always puttering about the halls looking for things to see that he'd never seen before that she always ended up curled up in his bed waiting for him to meander back to his room. She'd be asleep by then, but still it was comforting to have him shove her aside so he'd sleep beside her. The Doctor hadn't often even been in her room, the few times was mostly to tell her they'd landed somewhere fantastic and she had to see the sun rise... or set.
This was so different for both of them, even after everything on Gallifrey they'd still gone to their own rooms... which Rose now realized was for reasons other than needing a bit of space. Her hand brushed to her face, knuckles pushing her hair out of her face as she stifled a yawn against him, "I'm not tired... really." Honestly she was more exhausted than tired, and as her body shifted against him again she pushed up to her feet. Bare legs from the tops of her thighs to her toes caught the pale light from the hallway as she extended her hand down toward her thigh for the Doctor, "Floors too cold, just lay next to me... till I fall asleep then yeah?"
He wondered if she'd believe him if he told her he'd not done this sort of thing before. Companions sometimes breached the lines between friend and lover, but never on the TARDIS, and certainly never in their rooms. Not that this was going to become...he wasn't thinking along those lines. Well, no, that was fairly impossible for him not to be thinking along those lines with Rose's legs exposed like that. But he had a good deal of self-control, especially in regards to that sort of thing. And this was less about sexuality and more about, well, needing someone. Her.
"Yeah, 'course I will." He took her extended hand and held it.
He reached his other hand to touch her cheek. She was so young, he realized, looking at her features in the light of the doorway. Her eyes were clear and bright. She was such the opposite of him in so may ways. It was why they worked well, he decided. She was youth and vitality when he became cold and dark.
"I warn you, though, my feet are always cold."
It was almost the opposite of how it usually went. His hand was always offered to her to take, and now standing there he put his hand into hers, and all she thought to do was hold onto it a bit tighter. Reassuring herself that this wasn't anything wrong at all. Shutting her eyes for a moment she exhaled before opening them again, a smile reflected in her eyes more than the corners of her mouth as his touch was soft to her cheek. Rose let herself lean a bit into it smirking at his remark about his feet, "Yeah, yeah." Her reply was still soft and her voice low, not the usual annoyed tone that came with that pairing of words. With him standing before her she moved in closer to him letting her arms wrap against him just for a moment hugging him and letting her head rest to his chest, hearing the twin beats of his hearts for a bit. Pressing up on tip toes she placed a kiss beneath his chin, chaste and meaning nothing more than a simple show of appreciation for him actually coming to check on her, of not knowing what she needed but still wondering if he could help her.
Pulling away from him she moved onto her bed, kneeling her way across to the further side, where she usually ended up falling asleep anyway. Never really picking a side to the bed in life meant that she'd easily sleep wherever she was, but on the TARDIS she always stayed away from the door. Some psychological barrier she figured to not wanting to be close to whatever was going to venture into her room. Of course she never thought it'd be the Doctor. Her feet shoved beneath the covers for a moment as she turned onto her side to wait for him to climb into the bed. Meeting his eyes she let a laugh of a breath come from her lightly, "Come on... cold feet an' all."
He wasn't nervous. That is, he wasn't very nervous. That is, his nervousness existed on several levels and all of them were very deep and serious. There was so much implied by sleeping with someone in a bed. Especially a woman whom one had recently admitted certain feelings towards. But his mind was always overreacting to little things. To handholding that lingered a little too long and....generally foolish things.
If Rose could hear his brain, she'd probably roll her eyes and say 'You're just being the Doctor.' As if he were a noun, or perhaps a state of mind.
Speaking of, he began to ramble, if quietly. "Well, it's the lowered Gallifreyan body temperature, keeps the skin at a constantly lower state and the extremities like my feet tend to get colder! S'why I always wear so many socks, can't have them getting too cold it's just too distracting..."
He moved to the bed and slipped in next to her. The mattress was still warm, and significantly softer than his own. Cushy and soft. He laid his head down on the pillow and moved to his side to look at her. He grew quiet and tried to calm his suddenly hyperactive brain. Well, "suddenly" meaning "it had been hyperactive but now it was annoyingly loud and hyperactive." He cursed his brain for not even allowing him a few moments of peace with Rose.
Her hand rested beneath her pillow, the cool surface warming with her touch despite her being on the colder floor for a while. Her hand reached out to cradle against his cheek again. That smoothness of his skin under her touch, and the warmth of him too was something she really liked knowing. Her thoughts wandered a bit in the silence after he'd gone on about his extremities, wondering if this was uncomfortable for him, or if he didn't want to be there like this with her. It wasn't that she thought he actually minded it, but she knew how he got around her most times. Averting his eyes, trying not to see her when she clearly was trying to make him see her. But she didn't even want to be seen in the moment. This wasn't about anything that normally came from two people curled up close in these desperate moments and she knew it.
Leaving her hand to rest to his cheek she inched closer to him, letting herself fit against him. Her hand slipped away from his cheek, and settled to his chest close to where her cheek pressed. The top of her head situated beneath his chin nearly fit perfectly in comparison to him. Drawn close to him she could feel the exhale of his breath from his lungs, the deepness that they drew in. "He sold his soul... Dean did. For Sam." Rose wasn't even sure where her muttered words were headed but she knew she still had a lot of thought going on in her head about the whole thing. "Means... he's not with.. like family. Yeah?" It wasn't even that Rose wanted to believe in notions like Heaven and Hell, but if there was such a thing as being able to sell your soul... she had to believe there was someplace that those people had to go.
He felt his mind start to quiet when she shifted to move next to him. The way she fit, well, it felt so natural there wasn't a real reason to fret. It was like she belonged there. And, really, timeline permitting, she did. Rose Tyler and the Doctor. He doubted there was a universe out there that contained them both and they hadn't met. And she comforted.
He wrapped his arm around her and held her to him. He could accept the comfort, but he didn't really know how to give it in return. He was so bad at this sort of thing. Good at making people afraid or cry, but bad at making them feel better. He was the Doctor. He wanted to make people better, but he failed. Often.
He wanted to fix that with Rose.
At her words, he drew a breath and tried to think of the right sort of response. She wouldn't want a lie, that'd just make her angry and possibly kick him out (which he really didn't want at this moment). But he didn't want to hurt her with what he truly believed.
"I think Dean's living---or, uh, afterliving---with hope, even if he has nothing else. You know Sam, Rose. Won't let him go, will he? He's trapped but that hope keeps you going."
His words echoed in his chest, the vibration of what he said pressing to her cheek and sounding different as she listened to it from beneath him, hearing the words as they were inside of him almost. Nodding against him she drew her shoulders in a bit beneath his grasp. She let her back stretch out a bit pulled taut as she took in a deep breath. Even though what he said was hard to accept, she also knew that Sam wasn't going to just give up. That determination to help... to do whatever it was that one could to make it all fit together, to make that difference was something she knew extremely well. Something she still felt every time she moved through the console room of the TARDIS. Something she knew the TARDIS felt too.
Rose let her body shift again, her knee pressing between his just so that she was more settled against him, instead of feeling like her top half was so far from her lower half. Plus the feel of the fabric of his jim jams was comforting a bit against the smoothness of her skin. She could almost feel the rough hair from his legs, a smirk curving up in the corners of her mouth since she'd never really even seen his legs bare. There was that time in the marshes he hiked them up near his knees, but she was so miserable that she barely noticed. Now though she almost wanted to feel that roughness against her legs, the stark contrast of the smoothness of his cheek with the hair on his legs pinning her knee in place. She didn't dare say it though, nor would she even want to think much beyond the slight sensation that she could feel it beneath the light material.
Her legs were smooth and warm, though he wasn't about to let himself dwell on that, even as she moved her leg to be pinned between his knees. Like the bed and this room, the parts of Rose were so much less sharp and hard than the parts of him. There was never really an appropriate time to appraise his companion's legs, though she'd worn skirts often enough. There was just always so much to do, so many things to run to. Not really time to stop and, well, think. Appraise. Consider.
Like Rose's hair. He knew what it looked like and felt like, but right now from their position he could really consider how it smelled, what it felt like against his cheek as it spilled on the pillow. He could really consider Rose, as well. No end of the universe, no Daleks, no immanent destruction to stop them from just being together.
He mimicked her action with her hand, reaching his own out to touch her cheek. She was only half-lit, but he tried to make out her expression. What did that little smile mean? Did his words help? Oh, but he was so bad with intimacy. Give him the universe ending and he'd be all right. He always fouled up intimate situations.
"It's hope that keeps you lot going no matter what," he said. "That's why I admire you. You know, all of you."
Rose felt safe buried against him like this. Even the light covering of the bed-sheet didn't seem to really matter too much since she had his arm around her and his legs keeping hers in place. Everything felt still, to the point where she almost expected it all to go wrong. But the wrong never came, instead just the steady sound of the Doctor's hearts beating beneath his chest. The steady intake of air that rose his chest to meet to her cheek a bit fuller, a bit more solid for contact. His hand brushed to her cheek lightly and she felt that caress of a touch that felt like it could've meant more if they hadn't been discussing death. Once more she listened the echo of his words felt the way his chin rocked against the top of her head as she spoke.
She didn't really want to shift away from him, but she knew that she couldn't allow herself to want to press her leg in closer to him, or to tug at the collar of his shirt to press a kiss to the warmth of his neck simply because it was there. But the thought was there for her, and the notion and all the will power to tell her exactly why that wasn't right was slipping away the more comfortable she felt beside him. So she eased away from him a bit, shifting so that she was still close to him, but her limbs no longer tangled against his, and her mouth not so close to his chest. Instead she was settled on her back, her head rested still beneath his chin, and her cheek still close to his body. Just the rest of her wasn't so attached at the hip as it were.
Now her hand rested against his arm, as it was pulled across their bodies as she shifted away. Fingertip tracing lightly along the sleeve against his forearm and trying to avoid his elbow since she thought she recalled something about him being ticklish or something there. Last thing she wanted was for him to laugh or something. Her hand moved to the cuff of his shirt pushing it up a bit just so she could trace against skin instead of feeling her nail rake into small divots of threading. Once more she found herself thinking about how she didn't often see his arms or legs, always underneath layers of suit and shirt and coat sleeves. Though she'd seen his arm earlier when she'd bandaged it. Now the wrapping was reset, more careful and actually a bit smaller of a bandage.
"You lot.. make us sound like a herd or something. Cattle," Rose wasn't even sure why she picked up on that word instead of the hope part of it, but she had. It wasn't even a pessimistic tone, just one of casual observance picking apart things he said since he'd said them. "Even with all the hope though... we still worry. Still feel like we can't do enough, or do too much even. Just never seems to really work out easy. Not that it's s'posed to." Her back arched up a bit shifting once more, feeling a light bit of cracking along her spine before she settled back in. Her hand rested against the bandage again, "Wrapped it again after the shower... s'why you smell good."
"Not cattle, never cattle. Each human is unique and completely fascinating, yet you all have similar ideals that keep you together. Love, aspiration, hope. Oh, not all of them are perfect, but there aren't that many creatures in the universe with such capacity for goodness, with such creativity and possibility..." But he was starting to ramble, he realized. Oh, how difficult it was to explain to Rose why Earth was his favorite planet. The people on it. The things they could do.
She moved away from him, very slightly, so that she was not quite so closely pressed. The part of him that was relieved to see her more clearly was not nearly so large as the part of him that missed the closeness. Still, she was there and he was there and this all felt rather surreal, actually. Her finger traced along his arm, deftly avoiding the bend in his elbow. Probably for the best, the last thing he needed to stop his concentration was Rose toying with one of his (albeit unusual for a human) erogenous zones.
"Venusian aftershave," he said with a slight nod. "I vaguely remember the saleswoman telling me it drove some sort of person something or other. The bottle is silver and shiny, though."
He smelled her hair again, this time a little more obvious. "As for you, you smell good because of your shampoo. Is that...Nutella?" It was pretty much impossible to stop him from smelling things. Or tasting them, if need be.
Smirking in response to his comments always came so easily to her, but now it felt almost forced. The conversation was good though, light and not exactly upsetting her. It still was a bit odd to be lying beside the Doctor in her bedroom, in her bed as if they'd just been intimate and were now discussing their day. For some friends it might've seen somewhat normal, but for Rose it actually felt like a forward momentum. So much had happened that she was having a rough time sorting through it and finding out what exactly she felt. Dean had been a friend of hers, and they'd spent some time together, her birthday was one to really put down to the books and it wasn't like she'd forget the feel of him anytime soon.
Hearing the Doctor rattle off about his aftershave drew a smirk from her once more though, "Yeah you're a fan of the shiny things. Swear you're more easily distracted than a raccoon in a silverware bin." At the end of her comment she found herself pulling in closer to him again, her hand resting on his arm still but stilled instead of the slow tracing lines being drawn. The press of his mouth atop her head stilled her for a moment, letting her eyes shut as he smelled her hair. It was the sort of thing he normally tried to hide, but she usually could tell when he did it. Her eyes opened when he asked her about the scent though, "D'you just ask me if shampoo with a hazelnut chocolate spread? Mean really?"
"Well, I don't know these things. Does it look like I take care of my hair. Big as it is?" It was even more askew after the shower and the puttering about. "You could use it to...condition! Or just make it smell sweet."
It was good, talking about nothing. He wasn't usually one to take in small talk---lots of talk but none of it small---but with Rose it didn't feel wrong. Maybe it was because so much had just happened, small words felt easier. They felt more appropriate. His mind was still buzzing like an annoying gnat, focusing on not being too close but not being far away and why had her hand stopped moving and what did that expression on her face mean and was that the right carburetor valve going out again?
It was one of those moments he wished he could be human. Have a normal brain that wasn't drawn into eighty million different directions and just enjoy a moment with his companion. Even with everything that had happened, wasn't he allowed that?
"I can't help it, they're shiny! And it smells all right, you said so!"
Rose's hand strayed from her side to brush up to her forehead, the back of her hand cool to the touch as it rested there before running into her hair. Her hair that was not conditioned with Nutella, "Can't even imagine how'd I'd even do that. Mean it's a spread, like peanut butter. It's not that anyway. It's some stuff I picked up at some market. Don't even recall. Smelled good, seemed like it'd work for all sorts'a water."
Her hand went from her hair into his after that though, "Yours is not so bad. Still think you do somethin' to it. You just don't tell people you do. Make it seem like it's all on accident," Rose's fingers flexed a bit in his hair, feeling the softness of it now that it had just been washed. Still had a bit of the spring to it, she swore he put something in it straight out of the shower. But it wasn't like she'd ever go watch his morning routine too much. Helped him shave once, that was about it for that sort of thing.
With her hand in his hair she shifted again to face him more, not quite the buried against him that she'd been earlier, but still enough to meet his eyes as her hands teased into his hair. "Yeah, smells alright, bit more, but that's just normal." She thought of the natural way Jack smelled. That sort of odd alluring draw that a whiff of him could cause. Something about alien men from the future maybe had to be something documented about their pheromones or something. The back of her foot curved up against her calf a bit letting her knee graze against the Doctor's leg once more, even as her eyes still caught his gaze. It'd be really easy to lean forward and kiss him, to just reach out and connect to him like that, but the fact that it was so easy made her almost wish for the challenge.
Instead she settled back against him, pressing closer to him once more. Resting on her back still, but feeling her side pressing to him, the bare skin on her hip teased by the drawstring on the bottoms he'd worn to sleep. Knowing he loved her was one thing, but Rose often wondered if she did more than that for him. If the love could transcend beyond the emotion into the physicality of it more than just a kiss. Now with her hip and thigh pressed against him she wondered if his thoughts were milling around the way she felt, or if it was more Nutella and parts of the TARDIS he thought he heard.
"I like it. Good with bananas."
He tried to keep the conversation light, but the situation itself settled in his hyperactive mind as very serious. Maybe it was just the way they were. The way they laid together, how her hip grazed his trousers and how her hand felt in his hair. It should not have been so serious, he decided. After all, what was the point of being close to a human (one of the most tactile creatures he'd ever met) and not engage in tactile sensations?
Wait.
Not all sorts of tactile sensations.
Even though they were in a bed and---oh, there went his mind again.
He traced a finger down one of her arms, from the sleeve of her t-shirt to the bend in her wrist. It could've been an idle movement, but he'd become rather preoccupied with the feel of her skin, how warm it was. He knew what her hand felt like, what her cheek felt like, but the rest...well, that was something he hadn't really thought about before.
Not very often. Not terribly often. Occasionally.
Each time Rose pulled in a breath she tried not to make it much deeper than she needed it to be. The rise and fall of her chest felt like something that now she wasn't the only one really taking notice of. Still as his finger traced along her arm, and eased past the crook of her elbow and drifted to her wrist she knew her breathing grew a lot deeper, and her exhalation came a bit more staggered. Her hand stilled in his hair a bit before it pulled back out, the edge of her fingers grazing against his jaw just beneath his ear and finally moving so her hand rested to his shoulder, and then against his chest.
This would've been the time for soft spoken words talking about emotions or how things felt between them. For some reason or maybe a hundred others all she wanted was the silence. The sound of her breathing, the steady thrum of her pulse beating a bit more rapid in her chest and echoing in her ears. No matter how much she tried not to pull herself against him again she couldn't find any real way to stop herself in that moment. That single brush of his fingers to her skin and she nearly ached to feel more of it. All this time, all these hours and timelines they'd crossed over and into and here all she wanted was for time to stop.
Rose let her body roll once more, shifting back to press to him again. It felt more solid this time, as if the way she fit to him before wasn't nearly perfect enough. Now though, now with her head fit beneath his chin once more and her knee slipping back between his legs, she fit. With her hand moving up across his chest and back over his shoulder she pulled herself against him, just wanting to be this way with him, whatever 'this way' was.
He didn't really understand intimacy, he decided. It didn't make sense, needing someone physically. Oh, he liked hugs and handholding and that sort of thing. But this? This was really foreign to him. His lovers in the past had told him he wasn't a "cuddler", probably because he didn't understand the need to hold someone.
But now? Right now? He wanted to hold Rose. She needed him and, well, she felt rather nice there, entwined with him like this. It was like she filled in his hard and cold places with her warmth and softness. Even how her head tucked underneath his chin felt good. It felt right. Like she belonged there.
Of course, he could've just been projecting an emotional response to a physical situation. Of course Rose didn't belong curled up like this with him. But he wasn't denying his feelings for her, and he didn't doubt they made her presence feel that much more right.
He wrapped one arm around her, pressing his hand to the small of her back. Her skin there was as warm as the skin on her arm, perhaps a little warmer. He swallowed, realizing his mind had gone rather silent all of a sudden. Maybe it was stunned by how the situation had suddenly progressed. First it was idle conversation and closeness, now they were entwined and silent.
The weight of his hand to the small of her back forced her breath inward once more, her eyes to shut almost as if her body was set still on the edge of hoping that she hadn't made a mistake by doing this. They'd been close before but she'd pulled back, put that space between them. To return to the near intimacy felt as if she was reaffirming to him some underlying intent that even she was sure was there, despite not wanting it to be. Rose didn't want to want this sort of contact with him, but here she was entangled with him in her bed breathing him in with silence surrounding them.
Words might take the tension out of the way, shove something between them like actual conversation once more. Yet the silence that was surrounding them felt like a way to muffle so much more than just the words she didn't know where to place, or her hand that was still so secure right where it had been resting. She could've moved it, could've let her fingers press up to their tips and slink down along his spine but she didn't want that... even if it really was what she felt like she wanted. To be held, to just have him fit to her in all the ways she never thought he would felt like nearly enough. Too much almost if she thought about it too much. Because this really wasn't natural for them, natural for so much of the world... of the universe but never for Rose and the Doctor.
Death wasn't a natural thing though, neither was most of what they witnessed and maybe that was why breaking beyond this barrier for the moment felt like it would be okay still in the morning. She knew she wasn't the type to want to curl up along side someone simply to fall asleep, and needed her space, her privacy as much as she was certain he needed his.
Yet here in this moment she needed him, and he was willing to be that for her. So Rose took it as he offered with the press of his hand to her back and the way his chin rested atop her head. She took it as she shifted her features to bury against his neck once more, her mouth pressing warmth back to his skin. She took it all as her breathing in deeper pushed her curves against his chest and then away as she exhaled. If he'd give her the world she'd have taken that in too just so that she knew she wasn't quite as alone as she felt.
He always had something to say. Be it about politics or guns or the Ice Capades, he always had something to say, and it was usually quite brilliant. But right now? Right this moment? He was speechless. He couldn't think of something to break up the tension or even ask her what she might want, all he could do was hold her. Holding her was easy, comfortable, and didn't require pesky words.
His thumb traced over the skin of her back as he held her. A small circle, nothing too ridiculous or complicated. It was a very simple motion to keep the rest of him still. In his life he often felt like a shark; he had to keep swimming, keep moving. But right now he didn't want to move, didn't want to change how comfortable he and Rose were.
Maybe that was why they'd never progressed much further than very close friends. He was always too afraid of moving forward, of disrupting the comfortable. Romana once told him that by the time he figured out what he wanted, the woman he loved would have already moved on, gotten married, had a bunch of kids, and completely forgotten him. But he had time with Rose, didn't he? He always worked under the impression that she wasn't going to leave, that meant he had time. Right?
She shifted again, this time her mouth near his throat, her breath warm on his neck. It was not an unsensual sensation and somewhere in his mind he thought he should remark on that. Instead, all he could think was how very alive she felt next to him. Breathing, her single heart beating against him. There had been a lot of unnecessary death in the last two days and the part of him that refused to show itself during the battle began to surface. The part of him that was afraid. It was the part of him that locked Rose away from the battle, that always, always locked her away from even the possibility of dying.
He was afraid of losing her.
"Rose." His voice found itself again, albeit quiet, just a whisper.
[continued here.]