Part 02 - Chapter 20 - Coming to Terms (R)
Walking over to get the dermal regenerator he couldn’t help but remember his words to her as he had held her rapidly chilling body. He loved her; he’d almost as said as much to her, admitting how much he needed her, how much she meant to him. Hopefully she wouldn’t remember. Maybe he didn’t have to face what he had said and maybe they could just continue to be friends.
Looking up into the mirror over the counter, he now saw what she had been referring to; all over the right side of his face were small scores in his flesh. Thinking back he realizes that there had been a lot of broken ice that had fallen in the tremor that had sealed them in to what could so easily have been their icy tomb. Still, the cuts were a small price to pay considering that the fall that had trapped them had ultimately saved Rose by keeping what little heat they had inside with them, there was no question now that she would have died of exposure if…
“Oi, you over there in the leather, did you forget you were to bring that back over here?”
Her impertinent comment causes him to start, and to cover his lapse he turns and returns to her. Silently handing over the requested tool without thinking about the fact he was the one that needed it.
Seeing his pause, she pulls her blankets up, scooting up the bed to make space for him by sitting cross-legged at the head of the bed. “Well come on, sit down. Your turn,” She says, patting the cleared space.
Suddenly, realizing his lapse in attention, he says, “S‘kay Rose, I’ll take care of it, you don’t have to…”
“Uh uh, oh no you don’t! You had you turn to play Doctor, now it’s my turn.”
Looking at her sharply, he wonders if she realizes the double entendre to the statement she has just made and the expression on her face is not reassuring him one bit.
“Oh come on, Doctor, you know I don’t bite.” Her next words come across very clearly in spite of her not saying them out loud, ‘not unless you ask that is.’
Shaking his head, as if in denial of what he knows he couldn’t have heard he reluctantly sits down where she has indicated. Realizing as he does how really tired he is, it’s been a very long day and the fact that he hasn’t slept in close to two weeks he knows is not helping matters any.
Gently she reaches up, cupping his face, and he closes his eyes, trying to convince himself that it’s only so she can properly use the regenerator and not because the touch of her fingers feels so very good.
Pausing, she takes her hand away and almost immediately he misses her touch. Opening his eyes he immediately sees what her problem is, as she is holding out the arm with the IV to him.
“I think this might go a bit smoother without this, what do you think?”
Nodding, he gets a small sterile cloth and a plaster and quickly removes the IV, placing the bandage over the small puncture.
Content that that is taken care of, she pats the bed again in indication that he should sit back down. “Okay Doc, your turn.”
Reluctantly he again sits where she indicated and closes his eyes as her hand comes up to cup the side of his face. Slowly she runs the regenerator over each of the small sores and he has to suppress a small shiver at the sensation.
She loves looking at him like this, she loves touching him and she hopes he is not regretting his words to her from a few hours earlier. She had felt how he had struggled to express himself, the pain and the pure anguish as he had felt he had let her down. She remembers now almost every moment of that time, when he had held her so close trying to keep her warm. She remembers how he moved her ever so carefully to avoid jarring her broken leg, how he had taken off his jumper in order for her to wear it over the thermal clothing she had on, even though it only left him his jacket. She remembers how vehemently he insisted she needed the extra warmth far more then he did. She remembers the warmth of his chest, the wonderful smell of him, as she snuggled as close to him as she could.
Oh yes, she remembers, and she isn’t going to let him forget it or pretend it didn’t happen. As she finishes up with the last of the cuts she makes a decision she hopes she won’t regret. Gently she runs her fingers down the side of his face, pretending to look for any other cuts she might have missed, and as she does so she puts down the regenerator. She is glad for the fact he has closed his eyes since she doesn’t know if she would have the courage for what she is planning if he were looking right at her. Before she can change her mind she moves in one fluid moment onto her knees and, gently grasping his face, she kisses him. Pressing up against his warm, firm lips, for a moment she feels his start of surprise and then for a frozen moment he doesn’t move and she tightens her hold on him. Then she can feel exactly when he comes to a decision and he begins kissing her back.
He must be dreaming, he can’t actually be kissing Rose. His soft sweet Rose, so warm, so alive against him. Then he feels her hands warm, oh so warm against his neck, how could he ever forget how warm they were? With that kind of warmth he would never be cold again. Cold like she was earlier, the cold of near death, because of him. He is disgusted with himself for allowing her to kiss him like this; he doesn’t deserve this kind of warmth, not after everything he has done. So he pushes her away even as she clings to him. Standing, he breaks their kiss, saying, “I’m sorry Rose I…”
“You what Doctor? You think you don’t deserve happiness? You think that just because you push me away your feelings will go away? That MY feelings will go away? Well they won’t!”
With her indignant before him, full of fire, he doesn’t know what to say. A small part of his brain wonders how can anyone be so commanding wrapped only in a blanket?
“Doctor, I have been feeling your feelings ever since you took me to see the end of the Earth. I don’t know why I can suddenly do this and at this point I don’t care. What I do know is how you feel about me. I have felt your desire to touch me yet you always hold back. Your desires to kiss me, yet you always hide, always run away. Well I’m tired of hiding; I’m tired of your running! I love you and nothing you say or do is going to change that. Earlier you told me you couldn’t send me home, you couldn’t leave me behind, even though you thought you should. You told me at Downing Street that you were afraid to do what needed to be done because it might mean losing me. So Doctor what do you say?”
For long minutes he just stands there, dumbfounded. She remembers, she remembers it all and she still wants him. She has no idea what he is, what he has done; yet still she wants him. “You don’t know Rose… You don’t know who I am, what I have done.”
“I know what I have seen, I know what I have felt… I felt your anger at the Dalek, but I also felt your ability for compassion even in the face of everything they had done, to you, to your people, you were still able to have compassion for that Dalek in spite of it all. I saw you talk for hours with a little boy who couldn’t go out and play, telling him of all the things we had seen at the British Empire Exhibition in 1924. I saw you save my mum, and her friends even after she had hit you. When we were looking out over earth on that first trip, I asked you who you were; do you remember what you told me? Do you Doctor?”
“Yeah,” he says, almost too quietly for her to hear.
“You said ‘this is what I am, what you see right here, right now, this is me.’ Well you were right Doctor. What I saw then, what I see now, is not some wandering alien, but a man, a man who does the very best he can. Sometimes you make mistakes, but do you blame those mistakes on someone else like Adam did? No, you take ownership and you do the very best you can to correct those mistakes and in the process you fix a whole lot of other peoples mistakes at the same time. So it’s your choice. Do you want to live in the darkness, or do you want…” with that she held out her arms, exposing her nearly naked body to him hoping, so ardently hoping that he would come to her and not turn away.
For a long minute he just stands there, amazed beyond words at this young woman who is so very wise beyond her years and slowly, every so slowly, he walks into her arms.
Chapter 21 Acceptance (NC-17) Moving Forward Index 1
Looking up into the mirror over the counter, he now saw what she had been referring to; all over the right side of his face were small scores in his flesh. Thinking back he realizes that there had been a lot of broken ice that had fallen in the tremor that had sealed them in to what could so easily have been their icy tomb. Still, the cuts were a small price to pay considering that the fall that had trapped them had ultimately saved Rose by keeping what little heat they had inside with them, there was no question now that she would have died of exposure if…
“Oi, you over there in the leather, did you forget you were to bring that back over here?”
Her impertinent comment causes him to start, and to cover his lapse he turns and returns to her. Silently handing over the requested tool without thinking about the fact he was the one that needed it.
Seeing his pause, she pulls her blankets up, scooting up the bed to make space for him by sitting cross-legged at the head of the bed. “Well come on, sit down. Your turn,” She says, patting the cleared space.
Suddenly, realizing his lapse in attention, he says, “S‘kay Rose, I’ll take care of it, you don’t have to…”
“Uh uh, oh no you don’t! You had you turn to play Doctor, now it’s my turn.”
Looking at her sharply, he wonders if she realizes the double entendre to the statement she has just made and the expression on her face is not reassuring him one bit.
“Oh come on, Doctor, you know I don’t bite.” Her next words come across very clearly in spite of her not saying them out loud, ‘not unless you ask that is.’
Shaking his head, as if in denial of what he knows he couldn’t have heard he reluctantly sits down where she has indicated. Realizing as he does how really tired he is, it’s been a very long day and the fact that he hasn’t slept in close to two weeks he knows is not helping matters any.
Gently she reaches up, cupping his face, and he closes his eyes, trying to convince himself that it’s only so she can properly use the regenerator and not because the touch of her fingers feels so very good.
Pausing, she takes her hand away and almost immediately he misses her touch. Opening his eyes he immediately sees what her problem is, as she is holding out the arm with the IV to him.
“I think this might go a bit smoother without this, what do you think?”
Nodding, he gets a small sterile cloth and a plaster and quickly removes the IV, placing the bandage over the small puncture.
Content that that is taken care of, she pats the bed again in indication that he should sit back down. “Okay Doc, your turn.”
Reluctantly he again sits where she indicated and closes his eyes as her hand comes up to cup the side of his face. Slowly she runs the regenerator over each of the small sores and he has to suppress a small shiver at the sensation.
She loves looking at him like this, she loves touching him and she hopes he is not regretting his words to her from a few hours earlier. She had felt how he had struggled to express himself, the pain and the pure anguish as he had felt he had let her down. She remembers now almost every moment of that time, when he had held her so close trying to keep her warm. She remembers how he moved her ever so carefully to avoid jarring her broken leg, how he had taken off his jumper in order for her to wear it over the thermal clothing she had on, even though it only left him his jacket. She remembers how vehemently he insisted she needed the extra warmth far more then he did. She remembers the warmth of his chest, the wonderful smell of him, as she snuggled as close to him as she could.
Oh yes, she remembers, and she isn’t going to let him forget it or pretend it didn’t happen. As she finishes up with the last of the cuts she makes a decision she hopes she won’t regret. Gently she runs her fingers down the side of his face, pretending to look for any other cuts she might have missed, and as she does so she puts down the regenerator. She is glad for the fact he has closed his eyes since she doesn’t know if she would have the courage for what she is planning if he were looking right at her. Before she can change her mind she moves in one fluid moment onto her knees and, gently grasping his face, she kisses him. Pressing up against his warm, firm lips, for a moment she feels his start of surprise and then for a frozen moment he doesn’t move and she tightens her hold on him. Then she can feel exactly when he comes to a decision and he begins kissing her back.
He must be dreaming, he can’t actually be kissing Rose. His soft sweet Rose, so warm, so alive against him. Then he feels her hands warm, oh so warm against his neck, how could he ever forget how warm they were? With that kind of warmth he would never be cold again. Cold like she was earlier, the cold of near death, because of him. He is disgusted with himself for allowing her to kiss him like this; he doesn’t deserve this kind of warmth, not after everything he has done. So he pushes her away even as she clings to him. Standing, he breaks their kiss, saying, “I’m sorry Rose I…”
“You what Doctor? You think you don’t deserve happiness? You think that just because you push me away your feelings will go away? That MY feelings will go away? Well they won’t!”
With her indignant before him, full of fire, he doesn’t know what to say. A small part of his brain wonders how can anyone be so commanding wrapped only in a blanket?
“Doctor, I have been feeling your feelings ever since you took me to see the end of the Earth. I don’t know why I can suddenly do this and at this point I don’t care. What I do know is how you feel about me. I have felt your desire to touch me yet you always hold back. Your desires to kiss me, yet you always hide, always run away. Well I’m tired of hiding; I’m tired of your running! I love you and nothing you say or do is going to change that. Earlier you told me you couldn’t send me home, you couldn’t leave me behind, even though you thought you should. You told me at Downing Street that you were afraid to do what needed to be done because it might mean losing me. So Doctor what do you say?”
For long minutes he just stands there, dumbfounded. She remembers, she remembers it all and she still wants him. She has no idea what he is, what he has done; yet still she wants him. “You don’t know Rose… You don’t know who I am, what I have done.”
“I know what I have seen, I know what I have felt… I felt your anger at the Dalek, but I also felt your ability for compassion even in the face of everything they had done, to you, to your people, you were still able to have compassion for that Dalek in spite of it all. I saw you talk for hours with a little boy who couldn’t go out and play, telling him of all the things we had seen at the British Empire Exhibition in 1924. I saw you save my mum, and her friends even after she had hit you. When we were looking out over earth on that first trip, I asked you who you were; do you remember what you told me? Do you Doctor?”
“Yeah,” he says, almost too quietly for her to hear.
“You said ‘this is what I am, what you see right here, right now, this is me.’ Well you were right Doctor. What I saw then, what I see now, is not some wandering alien, but a man, a man who does the very best he can. Sometimes you make mistakes, but do you blame those mistakes on someone else like Adam did? No, you take ownership and you do the very best you can to correct those mistakes and in the process you fix a whole lot of other peoples mistakes at the same time. So it’s your choice. Do you want to live in the darkness, or do you want…” with that she held out her arms, exposing her nearly naked body to him hoping, so ardently hoping that he would come to her and not turn away.
For a long minute he just stands there, amazed beyond words at this young woman who is so very wise beyond her years and slowly, every so slowly, he walks into her arms.
Chapter 21 Acceptance (NC-17) Moving Forward Index 1