DW Fic: The Sound of I Love You
Title: The Sound of I Love You (3/??)
Characters/Pairings: Ten/Rose
Genre: Post JE
Rating: PG--lots of angst here, but nothing too bad
Spoiler Alert: Season four: Post Journey's End fic
Summary: Rose and 10.2 Have been abandoned. Will romance ensue?
Notes: Still unbeta-ed. Anyone wanna have a go?
Fire burned all around him. He stood on shaky legs, wincing at the shooting pain in them, and examined his surroundings. He extended his arms out fully to either side to stretch them out… well, he tried, but he hit solid surface before his hands reached shoulder height. Tried again at a parallel angle to the same result. He was in some sort of glass enclosure. High, silvery walls surrounded him, and seemed to move in tandem with the smoke billowing across them. Mirrors. The walls were covered in mirrors. Or were they windows? Though there was fire and smoke completely surrounding him, he was not burning, nor was he choking. He reached out an arm and touched the glass, but without his Time Lord senses, he was unable to discern what it was. Logic. He told himself. Use your logic. Smoke, fire, no reflection: glass.
Rubbing at his aching thighs, he realized he was in a complete state of undress. Where were his clothes? He spun himself about, searching for trousers, a shirt, anything, but all he could see was more smoky, fiery glass.
Think. Remember. How had he gotten here? Where were his clothes? Was he with anyone? Was there someone else-one of his companions-that was trapped as he was? Try as he might, he couldn’t remember anything helpful. The last thing he remembered was…Donna. Telling him he was naked; dematerializing the TARDIS into the Vortex and out of the danger of the Crucible …Or did he? There was nothing after that. No memory.
Damn! Davros must have captured him again! No! This couldn’t be happening! The Daleks can’t win! They just can’t! He began banging on the glass walls around him, shouting every profanity he can think of in every language he could recall. Nothing happened. Not even an echo of reverberation from the glass. No sound came from his lips, though he shouted louder and louder.
***
Rose shook the Doctor hard by the shoulders. He had woken her up by yelling in his sleep, and she couldn’t believe he hadn’t woken himself up, along with the rest of the Tyler manor. “Doctor!” she shouted at him.
***
Rose! No, no, no, no, no! Not Rose! He heard her voice coming to him in a distant shout. No, Davros! Don’t hurt Rose! I’ve only just got her back! Please!
***
“Doctor, wake up!” Rose slapped him on the shoulder a couple of times, and he finally bolted straight up, gasping and looking around wildly.
“Rose!” he panted and clutched at her. “Oh, Rose, my Rose, you’re OK.”
She stroked his head and shushed him gently. “Yeah, I’m OK. I’m OK. It’s alright.” She rocked gently with him in her arms until his panting turned into normal breathing, and his clutching lessened enough for her to breath normally herself. “Wanna talk about it?” she asked gently.
“No,” he answered hastily. “No, you’re here and you’re alright, and that’s all that matters.”
“OK.” She tugged him back down to the bed and lay on her back so he could lay his head on her chest. She threaded her fingers through his hair, still trying to soothe away his nightmare. “I love you,” she whispered. “It’s going to be OK. You and me both, we’re gonna be alright.”
He looked at her then--aching and needy--and leaned up on his elbows to kiss her. It was the sort of kiss one would expect after a sufficiently traumatizing event, and it made the Doctor’s blood boil with want. He pressed himself against Rose, trapped her beneath himself, felt her fingers digging into his chest, and at her whimper, deepened the kiss, possessing her as wholly as he could manage. Then suddenly, Rose was no longer underneath him.
“Stop!” she commanded before he could trap her again.
The Doctor stopped creeping towards her and blinked.
“Please, don’t be so rough,” Rose pleaded. “I can’t bear it, please.”
Pulling himself into a sitting position, the Doctor regarded her carefully. He hadn’t thought he was being all that rough, and anyway, she was putting off pheromones so potent they made his head spin. So why did she keep pushing him away? All the numbers didn’t add up.
“I’m sorry,” she spoke quickly. “I just need you to be gentle. I- ”
“Rose, did something happen to you?” he asked when her sentence ended with a frustrated scowl at her lap.
Her answer was to turn away from him and lay back down. “Look, let’s just go back to sleep, alright?”
The Doctor sighed and very, very slowly positioned himself to lay behind her, putting his arm loosely over hers and lacing their fingers together. Leveraging himself up on his elbow to look down at her, he combed his fingers through her hair and waited a moment to see if she would fight him off again. When she didn’t, he leaned his head down close to her ear and spoke softly. “Rose, if something happened to you, you can tell me. In fact, if we’re going to be together, I rather think I need you to tell me. I love you very much, and I would like to eventually be able to make love with you, but I can’t do that if you’re going to push me away every time I try. If something happened, we can work through it together. I’m a very patient man, and I can give you all the time you need, if you just give me the chance to help with whatever the problem is.”
Rose kept her eyes closed and her jaw clenched to keep the tears at bay. Of all the scenarios she’d pictured of her reunion with the Doctor, nothing had remotely resembled this. It was supposed to be a happy reunion with lots of snogging and shagging and laughing, but instead, she couldn’t seem to keep her emotions on an even keel enough to even enjoy his presence at her side.
Something had happened to her, yes, but it was so long ago now, she rarely thought about it, so it shouldn’t even be an issue now. She was over it. Wasn’t she? True, she hadn’t been sexually involved with anyone since then, but that was just because she was busy working and spending time with her family and helping look after her little brother and saving the universe and looking for the Doctor. It wasn’t because she had any particular aversion to such things. That is, unless she did. Did she? Maybe that’s why she’d been so nervous earlier. But that shouldn’t matter because this was the Doctor, and if she couldn’t trust anyone else in the world, she could still trust him. Mostly. Except when it came to situations where she was in danger and he sent her away to keep her from harm, leaving himself to possibly die in the process and her to mourn the loss of him. Again. And again. And then again. Hmm.
“Rose?” he whispered expectantly.
Well, bollocks! What was she supposed to say to him now? She sighed heavily.
“If you could just talk to me, love, we could get this sorted out.”
His tone was gentle enough. There was really no reason for her to be irritated, but she couldn’t help the harsh tone of her own voice. “Doctor! It’s three in the morning, and I haven’t slept in days! I really don’t want to have this kind of conversation right now! Can we just go back to sleep?”
The pain that jolted through the Doctor’s chest made him wonder if the human term “heart-broken” was a reference to a literal occurrence. He took a moment to mentally check his pulse, and though it ached, his heart still beat in a rhythm. He wasn’t sure if it was a normal rhythm, but that was neither here nor there. What mattered was the fact that Rose had not denied his inquiry of a sexual assault, and that fact made him both want to die and to kill someone at the same time. He squeezed his eyes shut to try and tamp down his anger and focus on the compassion that Rose needed at the moment. He could forgive the yelling and the slight madness that had overcome her, now that he’d figured out what the issue was. Thank goodness that his Time Lord logic hadn’t abandoned him in the biological metacrisis!
Fortunately, she hadn’t ordered him to let loose of her, so he settled down on the pillow behind her, not holding her down, just lightly leaving his arm draped over her, and he felt her shift back into him a bit. Good. At least she’s still wants to be touched by him. Now, if they could just get over that whole freaking out thing.
Rose tugged his arm tighter around herself, as though she hadn’t just yelled at him for doing what he considered the exact same thing just a moment ago. When sighed, she shivered from the breath on her neck and oozed more pheromones. It made him think of a human study he’d heard about years ago where lab rats were given very inconsistent rewards and punishments for doing certain tasks, and after a while, the rats had gone mad from the confusion and inconsistency of it all. Lab rat or no, he was definitely starting to suffer from a slight mental disturbance.
He closed his eyes and listened to Rose’s breathing to try and sooth his raw nerves, and he realized she wasn’t yet sleeping. For some reason, it made him feel awkward. She’d said she wanted to go back to sleep, yet here they both were, awake and not talking. He wanted to talk to her-well--wanted to get her to talk about…it…--well--not really wanted, but he knew it needed to be done so she could be healed from it. He wondered if she’d told anyone about it, thought about what he knew of her and decided he’d wager she hadn’t. She wouldn’t have wanted anyone to worry. He might even bet that that was when she’d started keeping a diary. There was no mention of it in the one he’d read, but the dates in it were only from a couple of years ago, so it could easily have happened before that, since she’d been here for eight of them.
He grimaced again at the time difference. Before-Well, before, he wouldn’t have minded Rose being a few years older and wiser, but he never would have wished for those years to come to her in quite this way. Her time in this universe had aged her not only in her physical body, but in the way she was. Her essence seemed older. Battle hardened. Grief hardened. Even the way she carried herself was harder-a challenge to anyone who might pose a threat to her-and for crying out loud, when he’d first seen her yesterday, she’d been carrying a gun that was nearly as big as she was. And she was serious, now. He didn’t recall her smiling much since they’d been dumped here in this parallel universe by his other self. His stupid, lousy, no good, Rose-hurting self. He snorted sardonically to himself as he realized he’d acquired a whole new dimension of self-loathing.
Eventually, sleep found him, but his dreams were no more pleasant than his most recent musings.
Characters/Pairings: Ten/Rose
Genre: Post JE
Rating: PG--lots of angst here, but nothing too bad
Spoiler Alert: Season four: Post Journey's End fic
Summary: Rose and 10.2 Have been abandoned. Will romance ensue?
Notes: Still unbeta-ed. Anyone wanna have a go?
Fire burned all around him. He stood on shaky legs, wincing at the shooting pain in them, and examined his surroundings. He extended his arms out fully to either side to stretch them out… well, he tried, but he hit solid surface before his hands reached shoulder height. Tried again at a parallel angle to the same result. He was in some sort of glass enclosure. High, silvery walls surrounded him, and seemed to move in tandem with the smoke billowing across them. Mirrors. The walls were covered in mirrors. Or were they windows? Though there was fire and smoke completely surrounding him, he was not burning, nor was he choking. He reached out an arm and touched the glass, but without his Time Lord senses, he was unable to discern what it was. Logic. He told himself. Use your logic. Smoke, fire, no reflection: glass.
Rubbing at his aching thighs, he realized he was in a complete state of undress. Where were his clothes? He spun himself about, searching for trousers, a shirt, anything, but all he could see was more smoky, fiery glass.
Think. Remember. How had he gotten here? Where were his clothes? Was he with anyone? Was there someone else-one of his companions-that was trapped as he was? Try as he might, he couldn’t remember anything helpful. The last thing he remembered was…Donna. Telling him he was naked; dematerializing the TARDIS into the Vortex and out of the danger of the Crucible …Or did he? There was nothing after that. No memory.
Damn! Davros must have captured him again! No! This couldn’t be happening! The Daleks can’t win! They just can’t! He began banging on the glass walls around him, shouting every profanity he can think of in every language he could recall. Nothing happened. Not even an echo of reverberation from the glass. No sound came from his lips, though he shouted louder and louder.
***
Rose shook the Doctor hard by the shoulders. He had woken her up by yelling in his sleep, and she couldn’t believe he hadn’t woken himself up, along with the rest of the Tyler manor. “Doctor!” she shouted at him.
***
Rose! No, no, no, no, no! Not Rose! He heard her voice coming to him in a distant shout. No, Davros! Don’t hurt Rose! I’ve only just got her back! Please!
***
“Doctor, wake up!” Rose slapped him on the shoulder a couple of times, and he finally bolted straight up, gasping and looking around wildly.
“Rose!” he panted and clutched at her. “Oh, Rose, my Rose, you’re OK.”
She stroked his head and shushed him gently. “Yeah, I’m OK. I’m OK. It’s alright.” She rocked gently with him in her arms until his panting turned into normal breathing, and his clutching lessened enough for her to breath normally herself. “Wanna talk about it?” she asked gently.
“No,” he answered hastily. “No, you’re here and you’re alright, and that’s all that matters.”
“OK.” She tugged him back down to the bed and lay on her back so he could lay his head on her chest. She threaded her fingers through his hair, still trying to soothe away his nightmare. “I love you,” she whispered. “It’s going to be OK. You and me both, we’re gonna be alright.”
He looked at her then--aching and needy--and leaned up on his elbows to kiss her. It was the sort of kiss one would expect after a sufficiently traumatizing event, and it made the Doctor’s blood boil with want. He pressed himself against Rose, trapped her beneath himself, felt her fingers digging into his chest, and at her whimper, deepened the kiss, possessing her as wholly as he could manage. Then suddenly, Rose was no longer underneath him.
“Stop!” she commanded before he could trap her again.
The Doctor stopped creeping towards her and blinked.
“Please, don’t be so rough,” Rose pleaded. “I can’t bear it, please.”
Pulling himself into a sitting position, the Doctor regarded her carefully. He hadn’t thought he was being all that rough, and anyway, she was putting off pheromones so potent they made his head spin. So why did she keep pushing him away? All the numbers didn’t add up.
“I’m sorry,” she spoke quickly. “I just need you to be gentle. I- ”
“Rose, did something happen to you?” he asked when her sentence ended with a frustrated scowl at her lap.
Her answer was to turn away from him and lay back down. “Look, let’s just go back to sleep, alright?”
The Doctor sighed and very, very slowly positioned himself to lay behind her, putting his arm loosely over hers and lacing their fingers together. Leveraging himself up on his elbow to look down at her, he combed his fingers through her hair and waited a moment to see if she would fight him off again. When she didn’t, he leaned his head down close to her ear and spoke softly. “Rose, if something happened to you, you can tell me. In fact, if we’re going to be together, I rather think I need you to tell me. I love you very much, and I would like to eventually be able to make love with you, but I can’t do that if you’re going to push me away every time I try. If something happened, we can work through it together. I’m a very patient man, and I can give you all the time you need, if you just give me the chance to help with whatever the problem is.”
Rose kept her eyes closed and her jaw clenched to keep the tears at bay. Of all the scenarios she’d pictured of her reunion with the Doctor, nothing had remotely resembled this. It was supposed to be a happy reunion with lots of snogging and shagging and laughing, but instead, she couldn’t seem to keep her emotions on an even keel enough to even enjoy his presence at her side.
Something had happened to her, yes, but it was so long ago now, she rarely thought about it, so it shouldn’t even be an issue now. She was over it. Wasn’t she? True, she hadn’t been sexually involved with anyone since then, but that was just because she was busy working and spending time with her family and helping look after her little brother and saving the universe and looking for the Doctor. It wasn’t because she had any particular aversion to such things. That is, unless she did. Did she? Maybe that’s why she’d been so nervous earlier. But that shouldn’t matter because this was the Doctor, and if she couldn’t trust anyone else in the world, she could still trust him. Mostly. Except when it came to situations where she was in danger and he sent her away to keep her from harm, leaving himself to possibly die in the process and her to mourn the loss of him. Again. And again. And then again. Hmm.
“Rose?” he whispered expectantly.
Well, bollocks! What was she supposed to say to him now? She sighed heavily.
“If you could just talk to me, love, we could get this sorted out.”
His tone was gentle enough. There was really no reason for her to be irritated, but she couldn’t help the harsh tone of her own voice. “Doctor! It’s three in the morning, and I haven’t slept in days! I really don’t want to have this kind of conversation right now! Can we just go back to sleep?”
The pain that jolted through the Doctor’s chest made him wonder if the human term “heart-broken” was a reference to a literal occurrence. He took a moment to mentally check his pulse, and though it ached, his heart still beat in a rhythm. He wasn’t sure if it was a normal rhythm, but that was neither here nor there. What mattered was the fact that Rose had not denied his inquiry of a sexual assault, and that fact made him both want to die and to kill someone at the same time. He squeezed his eyes shut to try and tamp down his anger and focus on the compassion that Rose needed at the moment. He could forgive the yelling and the slight madness that had overcome her, now that he’d figured out what the issue was. Thank goodness that his Time Lord logic hadn’t abandoned him in the biological metacrisis!
Fortunately, she hadn’t ordered him to let loose of her, so he settled down on the pillow behind her, not holding her down, just lightly leaving his arm draped over her, and he felt her shift back into him a bit. Good. At least she’s still wants to be touched by him. Now, if they could just get over that whole freaking out thing.
Rose tugged his arm tighter around herself, as though she hadn’t just yelled at him for doing what he considered the exact same thing just a moment ago. When sighed, she shivered from the breath on her neck and oozed more pheromones. It made him think of a human study he’d heard about years ago where lab rats were given very inconsistent rewards and punishments for doing certain tasks, and after a while, the rats had gone mad from the confusion and inconsistency of it all. Lab rat or no, he was definitely starting to suffer from a slight mental disturbance.
He closed his eyes and listened to Rose’s breathing to try and sooth his raw nerves, and he realized she wasn’t yet sleeping. For some reason, it made him feel awkward. She’d said she wanted to go back to sleep, yet here they both were, awake and not talking. He wanted to talk to her-well--wanted to get her to talk about…it…--well--not really wanted, but he knew it needed to be done so she could be healed from it. He wondered if she’d told anyone about it, thought about what he knew of her and decided he’d wager she hadn’t. She wouldn’t have wanted anyone to worry. He might even bet that that was when she’d started keeping a diary. There was no mention of it in the one he’d read, but the dates in it were only from a couple of years ago, so it could easily have happened before that, since she’d been here for eight of them.
He grimaced again at the time difference. Before-Well, before, he wouldn’t have minded Rose being a few years older and wiser, but he never would have wished for those years to come to her in quite this way. Her time in this universe had aged her not only in her physical body, but in the way she was. Her essence seemed older. Battle hardened. Grief hardened. Even the way she carried herself was harder-a challenge to anyone who might pose a threat to her-and for crying out loud, when he’d first seen her yesterday, she’d been carrying a gun that was nearly as big as she was. And she was serious, now. He didn’t recall her smiling much since they’d been dumped here in this parallel universe by his other self. His stupid, lousy, no good, Rose-hurting self. He snorted sardonically to himself as he realized he’d acquired a whole new dimension of self-loathing.
Eventually, sleep found him, but his dreams were no more pleasant than his most recent musings.