Fic: The Waiting Game
I wrote a Doctor Who fic today, after last night's finale. I wasn't too happy with the way it ended, so I wanted to do this as a sort of catharsis, to work through my bitterness and fix what I didn't like. I wasn't planning on doing it as anything more than an exercise for me, but I've been nagged to post it, so I will.
It's called 'The Waiting Game', it is of course a Doctor/Rose fic, and I reckon it's a PG. Obviously, there are MAJOR spoilers for 'Doomsday'. I won't do a summary, because spoilerness is baaad.
The Waiting Game, by Dallyra
She waited.
Of course she waited. She would wait forever for him. An eternity spent keeping one eye open for a cheerful man in an unusual situation, listening for the whirr of the TARDIS’s engines as he appeared. The Doctor, she knew, could do anything. He could do the impossible, and he would never leave her behind.
She would wait until he came.
One day, she knew, he would come up with the solution. One day, she would turn the corner and see that blue police box waiting for her. He would stand by the door grinning, perhaps with the second face she knew, perhaps not, but it wouldn’t matter either way. They would escape her new monotony together, and she would never be left waiting again.
One day, it would happen, no matter what anyone said to the contrary. He would return for her. One day.
As it happened, it was actually ‘one night’. Rose often dreamt of him, of handholds and whispers and words he never said, but even more frequent were the nightmares, where monsters snatched at her in a dark where no Doctor could save her. She tossed and turned and screamed until her eyes snapped open and she leapt out of bed to find him. She would be halfway across the room before she remembered that there was no Doctor to go to any more. She’d then return to her bed and cry herself to sleep, waking up even more determined to wait for him forever.
This time, when her eyes snapped open, he was there.
This time, when she flung herself across the room, she was met with comforting arms.
“Doctor!” she cried, burrowing her face deep into his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her. “I knew you’d do it! I knew you’d come back.”
He didn’t say anything, just pulled her closer. No agreement, no joke, not even a comment that time was short so they had better move quickly. Soft, painful silence.
Her heart sank.
“Doctor?” She pulled back slightly to look at his face. “Doctor, what’s wrong?” A terrible thought hit her. “Am I dreaming?”
“Yes,” he said, “and no.”
She frowned, not understanding. How could it both a dream and not a dream? He certainly felt real enough. His arms were tight around her, his shoulder warm beneath her cheek, and she could feel the steady double-beat of his hearts vibrating in his chest. He had to be real.
“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice shaking slightly.
“I am real,” he said, as though he had heard her thoughts, “but I’m still only inside your head.”
When she continued to look confused, he smiled. “Bad Wolf,” he said, like that explained it, and the familiar words made her smile sadly in memory. “You had the entire time vortex running through your head, and that leaves a mark.” He rested his palm against her cheek, as though outlining it for her, and she leant into it with a sigh. “You can’t see it, but you’re still connected to it, to the TARDIS and to my people. When you’re awake, your brain overrides it, but when you’re asleep…” He paused. “When you’re asleep, I can use it.”
Something that had been puzzling her suddenly made sense. “That’s how you got the message to me to go to Norway,” she said.
“Yes,” he said softly. “Sorry I didn’t explain it, but I didn’t exactly have the time to say everything I wanted to.” He laughed bitterly. “Besides, I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”
“I didn’t give up,” she said, her voice tremulous for an entirely different reason now. “You didn’t need to say anything, because I never gave up hope. I knew I’d see you again.” She felt a tear start to fall down her cheek, and the next moment, the Doctor was gently brushing it away with his fingertips. She sighed again, relishing his touch. “Why did it take so long?” she asked finally. “Why did I have to wait?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, his fingers now brushing a gentle path through her hair. “Even with a brain the size of mine, I couldn’t figure out how to do more than send a message. Talking to you used up a lot of energy, and I mean a lot, and then there was that… distraction.” At Rose’s confused glance, he added, “Runaway bride. Strange affair.” He shrugged. “But I worked it out in the end, and here I am!”
She smiled, daring herself to ask the most important, and most terrifying, question of all. “Does that mean…” She stopped, a lump growing in her throat. Finally, she whispered, “Can I go back with you?”
“No,” he said, and the pain in his voice matched the sudden ache in her chest. “This is only brainwaves. You’re asleep, and you can see me in your world, but I’m not there. Not really. I’m standing in the TARDIS, and as far as I can see, you’re standing in here with me, but we both know you’re not.” After a moment, he added, “But this is me talking to you, the same as you’re you. It’s real.”
She wrapped her arms around him and held on as tightly as she could, as though she could somehow physically drag him into her world. “How long have we got?” she whispered into his chest.
“As long as you’re asleep.”
She nodded. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough.
They talked for hours, about silly little things that meant nothing, and about things that meant everything. He told her the story of the bride, and she laughed at the tale, following it with details of all the new alien tech they’d discovered at Torchwood and listening intently as he explained the planets and races behind each one.
The sun was almost entirely risen before she realised what was happening.
“Time to go?” she asked sadly, and he nodded.
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said. “Just be sure to fall asleep.”
Smiling slightly, he leant forwards and kissed her.
“I love you, Rose Tyler.”
Her eyes opened to the sunlight. He was gone.
She didn’t tell anyone about what had happened, but spent the day waiting for his return. He appeared again, as he had promised, not just that night but every night after that. Sometimes they would talk, other times they would be far too busy to get much talking done, but it didn’t matter to her either way. Rose was still trapped on a foreign Earth with no chance of escape, but she had her Doctor, and that was enough.
He told her about his new travelling companion, Martha, and she felt a flare of jealousy, but in the end, she decided she didn’t need to worry. After all, who was he spending his nights with but her? Soon the Doctor was telling her about his reunion with Captain Jack, and then his tales were coloured with Jack’s relentless pursuit of Martha and her equally relentless rejections, making Rose grin. He spoke of many things, the exciting and the mundane, and Rose grew to view their time as the only time that really mattered.
Sometimes, he would ask her about her own life - her job, her family, her boyfriend - and she would dodge the questions, changing the subject, telling him there was nothing to say or pulling him in for another kiss.
It only made him more persistent.
Finally, she broke. She told him everything about her life, or the lack of it - how she was stuck in a useless job at Torchwood because she ‘never committed herself’, how she had no boyfriend, no friends, and a family who barely knew her.
“This is my life,” she told him, wrapping her arms around him. “I don’t need anything else.”
“This isn’t a life,” he replied sadly. “This is a dream.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her with a gentle kiss. “I’ll come back when you’ve made a life to wake up to.”
Then he was gone.
She waited again, as she had before, but this time she didn’t just sit and hope. She knew what she had to do to bring him back.
She worked harder than anyone at Torchwood, uncovering secrets and unlocking mysteries and saving the world until she was the one calling the shots, like a human version of The Doctor, permanently stationed on Earth. She spent more time with her family, the father she lost and the new baby she’d almost ignored, until they truly felt like ‘The Tylers’ again. When the girls from work asked her to go out with them, she agreed, no longer worried about missing time with her Doctor, until she had friends again; real, human friends who knew nothing of her life before.
Once, when a rather cute looking guy from the office asked her on a date, she said ‘yes’, and one night of drinking and dancing and kissing on the doorstep became two, then three, until suddenly she was engaged, and she forgot to wait any more.
And one night, when years had passed since their last meeting, he appeared in a dream. Martha and Jack were gone, and he spoke of a new girl with a smile, and she smiled too and told him of her life without him.
When she had finished, he smiled sadly at her, tears in his eyes, and said, “I’m proud of you, Rose.”
He kissed her one last time, and Rose felt the thrill of the past rush through her, as they celebrated the memory of a love that was lost and a wound that had finally healed.
As she awoke to the bright sunshine of the day, she smiled. She didn’t wait again.
It's called 'The Waiting Game', it is of course a Doctor/Rose fic, and I reckon it's a PG. Obviously, there are MAJOR spoilers for 'Doomsday'. I won't do a summary, because spoilerness is baaad.
The Waiting Game, by Dallyra
She waited.
Of course she waited. She would wait forever for him. An eternity spent keeping one eye open for a cheerful man in an unusual situation, listening for the whirr of the TARDIS’s engines as he appeared. The Doctor, she knew, could do anything. He could do the impossible, and he would never leave her behind.
She would wait until he came.
One day, she knew, he would come up with the solution. One day, she would turn the corner and see that blue police box waiting for her. He would stand by the door grinning, perhaps with the second face she knew, perhaps not, but it wouldn’t matter either way. They would escape her new monotony together, and she would never be left waiting again.
One day, it would happen, no matter what anyone said to the contrary. He would return for her. One day.
As it happened, it was actually ‘one night’. Rose often dreamt of him, of handholds and whispers and words he never said, but even more frequent were the nightmares, where monsters snatched at her in a dark where no Doctor could save her. She tossed and turned and screamed until her eyes snapped open and she leapt out of bed to find him. She would be halfway across the room before she remembered that there was no Doctor to go to any more. She’d then return to her bed and cry herself to sleep, waking up even more determined to wait for him forever.
This time, when her eyes snapped open, he was there.
This time, when she flung herself across the room, she was met with comforting arms.
“Doctor!” she cried, burrowing her face deep into his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her. “I knew you’d do it! I knew you’d come back.”
He didn’t say anything, just pulled her closer. No agreement, no joke, not even a comment that time was short so they had better move quickly. Soft, painful silence.
Her heart sank.
“Doctor?” She pulled back slightly to look at his face. “Doctor, what’s wrong?” A terrible thought hit her. “Am I dreaming?”
“Yes,” he said, “and no.”
She frowned, not understanding. How could it both a dream and not a dream? He certainly felt real enough. His arms were tight around her, his shoulder warm beneath her cheek, and she could feel the steady double-beat of his hearts vibrating in his chest. He had to be real.
“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice shaking slightly.
“I am real,” he said, as though he had heard her thoughts, “but I’m still only inside your head.”
When she continued to look confused, he smiled. “Bad Wolf,” he said, like that explained it, and the familiar words made her smile sadly in memory. “You had the entire time vortex running through your head, and that leaves a mark.” He rested his palm against her cheek, as though outlining it for her, and she leant into it with a sigh. “You can’t see it, but you’re still connected to it, to the TARDIS and to my people. When you’re awake, your brain overrides it, but when you’re asleep…” He paused. “When you’re asleep, I can use it.”
Something that had been puzzling her suddenly made sense. “That’s how you got the message to me to go to Norway,” she said.
“Yes,” he said softly. “Sorry I didn’t explain it, but I didn’t exactly have the time to say everything I wanted to.” He laughed bitterly. “Besides, I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”
“I didn’t give up,” she said, her voice tremulous for an entirely different reason now. “You didn’t need to say anything, because I never gave up hope. I knew I’d see you again.” She felt a tear start to fall down her cheek, and the next moment, the Doctor was gently brushing it away with his fingertips. She sighed again, relishing his touch. “Why did it take so long?” she asked finally. “Why did I have to wait?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, his fingers now brushing a gentle path through her hair. “Even with a brain the size of mine, I couldn’t figure out how to do more than send a message. Talking to you used up a lot of energy, and I mean a lot, and then there was that… distraction.” At Rose’s confused glance, he added, “Runaway bride. Strange affair.” He shrugged. “But I worked it out in the end, and here I am!”
She smiled, daring herself to ask the most important, and most terrifying, question of all. “Does that mean…” She stopped, a lump growing in her throat. Finally, she whispered, “Can I go back with you?”
“No,” he said, and the pain in his voice matched the sudden ache in her chest. “This is only brainwaves. You’re asleep, and you can see me in your world, but I’m not there. Not really. I’m standing in the TARDIS, and as far as I can see, you’re standing in here with me, but we both know you’re not.” After a moment, he added, “But this is me talking to you, the same as you’re you. It’s real.”
She wrapped her arms around him and held on as tightly as she could, as though she could somehow physically drag him into her world. “How long have we got?” she whispered into his chest.
“As long as you’re asleep.”
She nodded. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough.
They talked for hours, about silly little things that meant nothing, and about things that meant everything. He told her the story of the bride, and she laughed at the tale, following it with details of all the new alien tech they’d discovered at Torchwood and listening intently as he explained the planets and races behind each one.
The sun was almost entirely risen before she realised what was happening.
“Time to go?” she asked sadly, and he nodded.
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said. “Just be sure to fall asleep.”
Smiling slightly, he leant forwards and kissed her.
“I love you, Rose Tyler.”
Her eyes opened to the sunlight. He was gone.
She didn’t tell anyone about what had happened, but spent the day waiting for his return. He appeared again, as he had promised, not just that night but every night after that. Sometimes they would talk, other times they would be far too busy to get much talking done, but it didn’t matter to her either way. Rose was still trapped on a foreign Earth with no chance of escape, but she had her Doctor, and that was enough.
He told her about his new travelling companion, Martha, and she felt a flare of jealousy, but in the end, she decided she didn’t need to worry. After all, who was he spending his nights with but her? Soon the Doctor was telling her about his reunion with Captain Jack, and then his tales were coloured with Jack’s relentless pursuit of Martha and her equally relentless rejections, making Rose grin. He spoke of many things, the exciting and the mundane, and Rose grew to view their time as the only time that really mattered.
Sometimes, he would ask her about her own life - her job, her family, her boyfriend - and she would dodge the questions, changing the subject, telling him there was nothing to say or pulling him in for another kiss.
It only made him more persistent.
Finally, she broke. She told him everything about her life, or the lack of it - how she was stuck in a useless job at Torchwood because she ‘never committed herself’, how she had no boyfriend, no friends, and a family who barely knew her.
“This is my life,” she told him, wrapping her arms around him. “I don’t need anything else.”
“This isn’t a life,” he replied sadly. “This is a dream.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her with a gentle kiss. “I’ll come back when you’ve made a life to wake up to.”
Then he was gone.
She waited again, as she had before, but this time she didn’t just sit and hope. She knew what she had to do to bring him back.
She worked harder than anyone at Torchwood, uncovering secrets and unlocking mysteries and saving the world until she was the one calling the shots, like a human version of The Doctor, permanently stationed on Earth. She spent more time with her family, the father she lost and the new baby she’d almost ignored, until they truly felt like ‘The Tylers’ again. When the girls from work asked her to go out with them, she agreed, no longer worried about missing time with her Doctor, until she had friends again; real, human friends who knew nothing of her life before.
Once, when a rather cute looking guy from the office asked her on a date, she said ‘yes’, and one night of drinking and dancing and kissing on the doorstep became two, then three, until suddenly she was engaged, and she forgot to wait any more.
And one night, when years had passed since their last meeting, he appeared in a dream. Martha and Jack were gone, and he spoke of a new girl with a smile, and she smiled too and told him of her life without him.
When she had finished, he smiled sadly at her, tears in his eyes, and said, “I’m proud of you, Rose.”
He kissed her one last time, and Rose felt the thrill of the past rush through her, as they celebrated the memory of a love that was lost and a wound that had finally healed.
As she awoke to the bright sunshine of the day, she smiled. She didn’t wait again.