Echoes of Sunshine (1/1)
Title: Echoes of Sunshine
Beta(s): TheCookieMomma
Word Count: 5240
Song Title/Artist: Now Comes the Night by Rob Thomas
Characters/Pairing: Nine/Rose, Ten/Rose, 10.5/Rose
Rating: M (to be safe)
Giftee: ladychi
Summary: With the full and heavy knowledge that she wouldn't see this place again with these eyes, the Timend Goddess squeezed her eyes shut and vanished. She didn’t hear the strains of mournful music that followed her departure down the TARDIS corridors, but she knew them well.
A/N: Written for songs_in_time Valentine's Day Exchange. This does take place in my AT Paradigm storyverse and ties in with my current series. For those of you following my storyverse, this will no doubt confuse you more, but answers are coming, I promise! Songfic is an art I'm not sure I've mastered yet, but I hope this is what you were looking for, ladychi !
Fire. Death and dying; timestreams unraveling and lives innumerable snuffed out with only the echoes of their screams left to haunt him.
It wasn’t real.
It couldn’t be real.
Not even the Universe was this cruel.
Except for when it was.
He saw it all, the citadel cracking like an egg before shattering out into a thousand pieces, slicing silver leaves from the trees only an instant before the fire transformed the branches to ash; gouging out wounds in the earth only heartsbeats before the crimson grass became black. The atmosphere burned, the planet shook until it tore itself to pieces, shredded out of the fabric of time itself.
And all that time, it was screaming.
Over and over again he saw, he smelt, he heard and he felt the pain he’d inflicted on his people, on his home. It burned him from the inside out until he was so hollow he just knew he’d collapse. Maybe once his ashes joined with theirs, it wouldn’t hurt so badly.
It was a horrible dichotomy, this existence. The pain was so unbelievably unbearable that he screamed, cried, begged and pleaded; would have done anything to make it stop. And yet all that while he knew it was only what he deserved; his just reparation for the blood on his hands.
So it was, then, that as the burning pain was soothed and cooled and eased until he floated in blissful darkness, he wasn’t certain if things were better or worse. Then came the time when he wasn’t sure about anything at all.
……………………………………………………………………..
Waking was an inordinately slow process.
Whatever surface he was lying on was soft almost to the point of opulence and there was a smell in the air that put him at immediate ease. There was a warm, damp cloth that wiped tenderly over his face and neck, using just enough pressure to soothe raw nerves without becoming abrasive. Warm hands-smooth in contrast to the slight roughness of the flannel-brushed over his skin in caresses that flooded him with a warmth divine only because it was so simple; simple like the feel of afternoon sun on bare skin.
In his life, he’d had very little time for the simple things; the little joys that make everyday life worth living. If he was honest with himself, he’d had little patience for them either. He was more concerned with the greater joys, the epic struggles; such things that poets lauded and troubadours immortalized. He had looked down his nose at those who claimed happiness in the small and the simple. He had taken his stance and upheld belief in his rightness with the superiority of a…well, of a superior being.
He very, very rarely admitted to being wrong.
However-he mused as he lay hovering between sleep and waking-he would be perfectly and earnestly willing to admit defeat and throw himself to the mercies of the common man if it meant that this simple, uncomplicated comfort would stay. Somehow he knew it had to stay or he would be lost into the vast and utter blackness that lurked just around the corner; always out of sight, never out of mind.
As if his admission of his own error was the key or switch, he felt himself floating higher and higher towards waking; closer to the source of this simple pleasure; like a flower reaching towards the sun. Although, he admitted hazily. If I’m a flower-and that doesn’t seem quite right-but if I am, I should probably find somewhere to set down roots.
It was a testament to just how fogged his mind had become, that the aforementioned thought didn’t startle him into total wakefulness for a full three seconds. When the reality of his words finally sunk in, he jerked upright, gasping for breath like a man pulled from a capsized ship. Gentle hands pressed at his shoulders, urging him to lie back, even as a tender voice told him to let go of his fears and sleep; he wouldn’t be alone.
Alone.
The memories flooded back and washed over him, his mind now in almost synchronized pain with his body. He recognized this pain-the physical pain of a botched regeneration. He had survived and they had died and he had killed them and now he would be left to languish; utterly alone. He rolled to his side and curled into a ball, wrapping his arms around his middle and trying to make himself as small as he possibly could, but this simple joy was having none of that. The bed dipped behind him and impossibly dainty fingers brushed over his arms while a warm body pressed against his back, curling itself to fit against him, to brace him while a mind slipped into his own.
It was gradual-his mind was so wounded; ripped and shredded-because it had to be. It was like the slow progression of morning through a window, the light easing into the dark places with such an understated strength that the shadows were powerless to resist. It was, however, unlike sunlight in one delightful way; this warmth, this light…it did not retreat. It flowed gently over a mental battlefield, acting as nature would in a corporeal war-zone. The wounds were gently but persistently closed, leaving scars instead of gaping holes. Pieces were pulled back together and as his mind was pulled away from the brink, his body finally, finally began to relax. Slowly he felt his limbs elongate as muscles eased, his entire being unfolding until he rested against the body behind him.
A kiss was pressed to the back of his neck and as he fell asleep, he had the oddly reassuring sensation of rooting himself to that light; that warmth. In that, he was content.
……………………………………………………………………….
The next time he wakes, he realizes that he is naked.
Not an odd occurrence really, at least within the grand scheme of things. There are plenty of valid explanations for why he has woken up naked.
Sadly, very few of them float when faced with the addition of a very real and very naked female pressed against his chest. He brushes fingertips along her side and buries his nose in soft hair he can’t tell the color of. He realizes that there is something waiting for him; hovering just on the edges of memory. If he reaches out, it’ll come back to him, but given the option of the unknown and the simple comforts here in this bed…he knows it isn’t even a choice.
There are warm arms around him and a warm light in his mind. The rest of the universe can go and hang itself.
…………………………………………………………………
She’d stayed too long.
Koschei may beg to differ, but there are rules-even for them.
She’d done what she’d come to do and she really should leave…but she couldn’t make herself move. It just…it felt so very good to lay with him like this. It was a comfort she hadn’t had in millennia. He felt so solid, so strong and so real-of course because he was all of those things. And of course, it would be because he was all of those things that she really had to leave. This wasn’t one of her dreams, where her actions had no consequence beyond the ones she chose. This was his timeline.
This was real and-despite the fact that she wanted to so badly it hurt-she couldn’t change anything.
Reaching one hand up, she caressed the lines of his face, running her nails ever-so-lightly across his scalp. The short-cropped hair tickled her fingertips, but she didn’t mind. She wasn’t even disappointed in the lack of what she’d once fondly called ‘semi-sentient’ hair, because while that was indubitably him, so was this.
As she was now, she could see things that no one should ever bear witness to; either for their atrocity or their beauty. As she was now, she understood things she was only barely beginning to recognize in her time with him. She understood the exquisite agony of seeing literally the best and the worst of creation. She understood the responsibility that he felt towards every living thing; life in any form was far too precious to be wasted. But mainly, mostly, she had grasped completely the concept of his being the same man. These forms he wore and shed, they were no more than the skin of a snake, discarded as he grew and changed. For a species as naturally inclined to stasis as his was, these changes were the grace of creation.
She should know, she’d worn and shed more than a few in her time.
It wasn’t the same thing, of course, but it was close enough. At last she understood his attraction to Reinette, to Sarah-Jane and the others.
Understanding wasn’t the same as accepting. It had taken centuries more for that to come, but come it had and it would come again.
He was so amazingly beautiful to her. Not just on the surface and not just deep down, but all the way through. His pros and his cons; his dark and light…she understood now the need for all aspects and delighted in them all the more.
Slowly disentangling herself from his limbs where they’d twisted with her own, she pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and leaned back to roll away and change, only to feel a hand grasped around her upper arm. Surprised, she turned to find a pair of blue eyes pleading with her for…for acceptance? For answers? For promises? She didn’t have those to offer him; not anymore. No…he just wanted her to stay.
The fact that she knew that without his saying so was more than enough reason for her to hightail it now, but she’d never been able to refuse him, especially when he was in pain.
So, with a soft smile, she rolled back into him and wrapped arms and legs around his battle-torn body; his own personal shield against the storm outside.
“Wh-“ She cut his soft and raspy question off with a kiss. She couldn’t talk. She couldn’t answer. She couldn’t do anything that would give away his own future. But she could give him this.
Slow yet firm, she pressed against his mouth, moving her lips against his until she felt him hesitantly respond. The delight that ran through her then transcended the sexual cravings of this corporeal form-and those were quite definitively starting to awaken. As he opened his mouth to her, she felt his mind open also. She knew she shouldn’t; it was a universally bad idea. She ran through a list of just why she shouldn’t, but it wasn’t enough.
With a shudder, she opened her own barriers and poured herself into him.
…………………………………………………………………..
He felt her release barriers and flood his mind with…with her. There was no other way to describe it. With a groan of pleasure, he rolled them until she was trapped beneath him and ran his fingers through her hair. As she filled his own mind, all warmth and golden sunlight and joy, he let go and slid into hers. The groundwork had already been laid, but this was something more final; more binding. He couldn’t name it if he tried; he just knew. It could keep her here; keep her with him.
It had to.
As the pieces of their minds slid and locked into place, something inside of him snapped. His kiss turned wilder, tongue sweeping in to explore her mouth, to find all of those little places that would make her squirm; make her his. To his surprise-and no little delight-she didn’t just allow him. She didn’t push him away, but she was about as passive as a wild thing. If he was to taste her, to own her, she’d have her own way as well and he couldn’t deny her that. Between the two of them, what had begun gently became feral.
His mouth traveled to the juncture between her neck and shoulder, sucking the blood to the surface before biting down hard enough to draw it from her. “Mine,” he snarled out rather breathlessly. A small part of him quailed at such ferocity, but he quickly squelched it. There would be time later to be appalled at his primitive desires; now was not that time.
His breath hitched as she caught his earlobe between her teeth and bit down, a shiver traveling up his spine as she matched his assertion.
“Mine.” It was the first word he’d heard her speak with clarity and it warmed him even as it galvanized his desire into further action. His mouth moved from his mark and trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses down her skin. Between her breasts he pressed his face, inhaling deeply the intoxicating combination of pheromones and sweat and chemicals that were unique to this woman. A very primitive part of his mind-a part he would vehemently deny existed-catalogued the combination as the smell of his mate.
Satisfied, he nipped the soft flesh there-delighted in her mewl of pleasure-and moved to engulf her right nipple in his mouth, nipping and rolling it with his tongue as his fingers mimicked the motions on her other breast. Her noises were free and uninhibited as her back arched her further into his mouth. Her hands found his head and he moaned as fingernails trailed lines of fire down his neck and shoulders. There was no cloth to interfere with touch and he found the feel of her intoxicating. She was fire; living, glorious fire and for the first time it felt good to burn.
…………………………………………………………….
He was sleeping again.
All those years she’d wondered why it was he never seemed to sleep. She had finally asked him; once. He’d stared into the middle distance before shaking it off and shooting her a manic grin.
“Time Lord, me,” he’d assured her. “Don’t waste our lives asleep like you humans.” He’d then cupped her face in his hand and run his thumb along the apple of her cheek. At the time, she’d taken his word for it and never given it another thought.
She knew better now.
All those times they’d been stuck somewhere and he’d just happened to fall asleep leaning on her or providing her a pillow; even the rare occasions where he’d sit with her in her bed on the TARDIS and doze off… It wasn’t that he didn’t need sleep. It was that his mind wouldn’t relax without its match. Even though the bond hadn’t been established in her timeline yet, it had in his and his mind-more than likely subconsciously-had sought out its mate in hers. He didn’t sleep without her because the primitive parts of his psyche told him it wasn’t safe to rest without his bond-mate.
With that understanding came resolve.
She had unlimited power and an entire universe to use it in. Those years in between…well, she caused the problem-after a fashion-and now she had the ability to fix it; to make it better.
With a tender brush of fingertips to his temple, she guided him into a deeper sleep.
It was hell to leave like this. She knew her own physiology as well as she knew his. Even in her current predicament, her natural state had priority. She knew leaving now meant the bond between them wouldn’t stabilize. She knew perfectly well that the sense of completeness she held so close to her chest would fade until the next time she’d be with him. Bonds of this nature needed at least a week of near-constant contact to cement themselves.
As she pulled on her clothes with shaking hands, she bit her lip hard and told herself repeatedly that this was the only way. The pieces of the bond that would stay would hold him together long enough to find her and then the timelines would be restored.
Still…
It was mental anguish to lose one’s bond mate, even so early as this… It was a split-second decision, and she didn’t like it. Nevertheless, it needed to be done.
Tender fingertips pressed again on his temples. The pulsing link between them meant she could have slipped in his mind from a distance, but that left ‘fingerprints’ she couldn’t afford. Slowly, methodically and with infinite care, she found his memories of her and of this and very gently slipped them into a box only she had the key to, then buried it subtly under nearly a millennium of other memories, so he’d never even wonder. That done, she eased out, leaving gentle triggers for joy, for peace and for her love. Most of them he wouldn’t trip until long after he’d lost her, but they-and the golden healing sheen in his psyche-were the only gifts she could leave him.
She stood then, fixing the sight of him like this into her memories, because she knew it was the last time she’d see this beloved face. Then, before she could change her mind, she stepped out of his room and closed the door behind her.
The corridors were just how she remembered them, only different. It was an odd difference, subtle. Or it could be that her memories weren’t as good as they used to be. After all, it was the first time she’d set foot here in…millennia.
She spent a long time in the console room, hands pressed to one of the coral support struts as she caught up with the TARDIS, grateful once again for the timelessness of this great creature. Here she had to hide nothing, because-like her-the TARDIS existed outside of time. It was a soothing comfort to wrap herself in a song it seemed she’d known her entire life, but even that couldn’t last. He’d sleep, but for how long? She couldn’t be caught here. It would undo everything.
And so, with the reluctance of someone so very, very tired, she stepped away from the support strut and looked over the console room, tears she refused to acknowledge pooling in her eyes. This was home.
This wasn’t her first home, nor would it be her last, but it was her true home. No matter where she went, what she did, a piece of her would always be missing; left here with her TARDIS and her Time Lord.
With the full and heavy knowledge that she wouldn’t see this place again with these eyes, the Timend Goddess squeezed her eyes shut and vanished.
She didn’t hear the strains of mournful music that followed her departure down the TARDIS corridors, but she knew them well.
………………………………………………………………………….
The Autons had cornered him.
It was a sad and pathetic truth, really. He whose name was whispered in fear among the darkest corners of the universe would be killed by Autons. It was an ignoble fate to be certain, but the truth was that he didn’t feel like fighting it. The Nestene Consciousness lost its home because of his war. It was meet that he should die by its hand. His only regret lay in the lone human girl he’d sentenced alongside him. With tired eyes he turned to look at her, willing her to put some of that abundant human resourcefulness to the task; willing her to live.
As she met his eyes, he saw determination rise and he couldn’t help but smile. She would leave him. She would escape and he could die in peace…only, she wasn’t running.
The clank of a broken chain, the sounds of her assertive voice, the boiling of the Consciousness below, all sounds fell silent as his field of vision was entirely taken by the form of a small human child while she swung from that chain and saved him. He rid himself of his own attacker and tried his best to block out the screams of the creature below him.
She’d overestimated the amount of energy needed for the swing, though. She was careening out of control and his breath caught in his throat. As she swung back his way, he braced himself and caught her eye. With a degree of trust that would awe him for years to come, she let go and trusted him to catch her.
He did, of course. There was nothing in this universe that could have stopped him from catching her. Her adrenaline-fueled smile of gratitude was almost expected, the strains of music it triggered in his mind, however, weren’t.
When the hour is upon us
And our beauty surely gone
No you will not be forgotten
No you will not be alone
………………………………………………………………
Cardiff! Naples would have been better. At least in Naples there would have been some dignity afforded him. Wales was much less kind.
They backed him into a cell-him and his little South-London spitfire-and closed in with all the persistence of the dead. Which, to be fair, they were. A glance to his companion then and he couldn’t suppress a wince. She’d been right all along. He’d lied to Gwyneth against her wishes and this was the result. He should have listened to her, but it had been too long since he hadn’t been alone. He was too used to being the battle commander and the reminder of more casualties that were his fault…it robbed him of his reason.
Casting a glance to his right, he took her in. She really was beautiful. Not just for a human-he truly was a coward-but for anything. As she took his hand and sent him reassurances, he was floored. Here they were, about to die, and she wanted to absolve him. The reality of it sent a flash of gold over his vision and all he could think to say was;
“I’m so glad I met you.”
The smile that bloomed over her face at that made him shiver. Even when faced with her imminent death, she could take such joy from his simple admission…
“Me too.”
No sooner had the words left her mouth than he heard it again, those same strains of music filtering through his mind.
And when the day has all but ended
And our echo starts to fade
No you will not be alone then
And you will not be afraid
No you will not be afraid
And he wasn’t, not anymore.
……………………………………………………………
It wasn’t his personal definition of hell. No, that would have more of Jackie Tyler’s meatloaf and less of his own precious girl. Still, the Beast was getting to her, he could tell. It was the growing up in a culture that still used religious fear to control its youth. He couldn’t remove that from her, but he could hold her close. He could comfort her and draw comfort from her.
Even stranded without his ship, there was hope. There was hope because she still believed in him and he’d never let that down. He’d come so close to losing that faith, but not again; never again.
Still, he was an explorer by nature. He had an insatiable curiosity and he knew, despite her fear for him-which was palpable-and her own desire to follow, to see and learn-which was obvious-that she would stay where he left her this time. He knew she wouldn’t follow into danger because she knew there had to be someone up there to hold things together.
When her lips pressed against the glass of his helmet, he spared a moment wishing the glass had not been there.
When they lost their communications with topside, he flung open his mind and let his connection to her sing to life, because he couldn’t cope with the not knowing.
As he fell into the blackness below, he could see her doing what needed to be done, see her saving lives because she cared. When he hit the bottom, he passed into unconsciousness with a smile.
Faced with the Beast, with the reality of what had to be done, he balked. He talked around in circles to buy himself time to find another way, but what he found was far more precious. He turned to the chained creature with a light of understanding dawning on his face. Flashes of her passed behind his eyes, the edges softened by a golden light. This was not his demon, because this was not his hell. To have a hell, there had to be a deity and he’d seen far too many pretend to be such to put credence to it. He’d been considered one himself on several occasions and if that wasn’t enough to shame the concept, he didn’t know what was.
He didn’t believe in the rules of his people-they’d brought nothing but a painful end-and he didn’t deign to have faith in any religion, because he’d seen their roots; their realities. The only thing left to him was unbelief, except in her.
She had swallowed up the entire Time Vortex, bonded intimately with one of the greatest creatures in existence and sacrificed everything to save him, because she couldn’t bear the thought of existence without him. Even then, with the whole of Time and Space running through her head, she had retained her sense of Self. She had done what was needed and was prepared to die because he was safe. When she couldn’t let go to the TARDIS, she surrendered that power to him.
He realized then that the faith she had in him wasn’t only one-sided. With that realization came strength. He would defeat this thing and trust in her to save them, because when it went beyond him, she was the only thing left.
With this realization came strains of a song he hadn’t heard in this body. Not since the Gelth had he felt these notes steal over his mind.
When the fog has finally lifted
From my cold and tired brow
No I will not leave you crying
And I will not let you down
No I will not let you down
I will not let you down
And so he crushed the power source, sent them hurtling towards the black hole. His choice sent the whole planet shaking, and at the first sight of his beloved TARDIS, he could see her again. She was crying, being sedated and forced to leave him here-as she thought-to die. She woke up somewhere strange and killed a man to save the universe, still waiting for him to return to her. He didn’t think that faith would break even if it took him a hundred years to find her, but he’d rather not test it.
He couldn’t wait that long.
…………………………………………………………………
Three months.
It had been three months since the day he’d said goodbye to the most precious girl the universe had ever shown him.
It hadn’t hit him fully at first. Donna and her loud, vivacious energy saw to that. Still, when she had gone home to Christmas dinner, the silence had become…inescapable. He’d been almost glad to see the odd readings at that hospital, glad to have someone to break the silence. It wasn’t her; it would never be her. But it helped.
Too soon, that mystery had been solved. Too soon he was again in the Vortex, alone.
He had no illusions. He knew he’d go back for her. He was far too lonely to survive on his own and Donna’s words still echoed in his head; but not yet. He was still too raw. He’d spent three months alone in adventure after adventure, willing the pain to recede to a manageable level.
It never did.
He did everything he could think of, followed every lead, but there was no way back to her. It was her he needed, but it seemed she was what the universe was hell-bent on denying him. In all that time, he poured over books, sought out experts and moved mountains-literally, one of the missing scrolls of Terra’fil was buried under a mountain-but to no avail.
Finally, he had no choice.
Binding his eyes closed-because given that power, there’s no guarantee that he wouldn’t pull apart the fabric of space-time to bring her back-he opened the console and sat in the captain’s chair. This was the heart of his TARDIS and as surely as she had looked into his ship, his ship had looked into her. There were pieces of her woven here, the last pieces of her left in this universe. As the warmth flowed around him, he could smell her, taste her, hear her laugh and feel her arms enclosing him in safety, but most of all, he felt a wash of gold in his mind. It was soft and gentle, working with the understated persistence of morning sunlight through a window. It acted as Nature would have done on a corporeal battlefield, turning wounds and rents into scars and blanketing everything in a love so powerful it had once bent Time to its will; all to the accompaniment of strains of music he never thought to hear again.
Now comes the night
Feel it fading away
And the soul underneath
Is it all that remains
So just slide over here
Leave your fear in the fray
Let us hold to each other
Till the end of our days
Sadly, like sunlight, this simple comfort retreated from his mind, leaving him alone again; scarred but not bleeding.
He could exist now. He could go on and live his life. It wouldn’t be easy and it would be exquisitely painful, but it could-and would-be done.
She wouldn’t believe in anything less from him.
……………………………………………………………………………
He stood next to her on the damp sands of a beach that had haunted his dreams for longer than he’d care to admit. Vanishing before their eyes was a small blue box that had-for both of them-meant home for a very long time. She stepped away from him, as if to run after it; he didn’t stop her.
He was different now, he knew that. She knew that. She wasn’t stupid. He couldn’t feel her in the back of his mind like he was so used to doing. It left him feeling empty and alone, despite being able to see her right in front of his eyes. Did it matter that he had the same memories? Did it matter that he had been born into the universe with such an all-consuming love for her?
As the final whisper of the TARDIS’ dematerialization sequence echoed across the rocky bay, he heard strains of a more familiar sort, skittering across his mind and reminding him rather forcefully that this was Rose. She was older. There was pain in her eyes and some of her innocence was gone. She wasn’t what she was, but then, neither was he.
When the hour is upon us
And our beauty surely gone
No you will not be forgotten
No you will not be alone
With hope blooming in his heart-and that would take some serious getting used to-he stepped forward and reached for her hand. He held his breath, watching her face carefully. She turned to him and reached back. A brilliant smile broke out on his face, matched by her own as their hands slid together.
Yep, still a perfect fit.
Beta(s): TheCookieMomma
Word Count: 5240
Song Title/Artist: Now Comes the Night by Rob Thomas
Characters/Pairing: Nine/Rose, Ten/Rose, 10.5/Rose
Rating: M (to be safe)
Giftee: ladychi
Summary: With the full and heavy knowledge that she wouldn't see this place again with these eyes, the Timend Goddess squeezed her eyes shut and vanished. She didn’t hear the strains of mournful music that followed her departure down the TARDIS corridors, but she knew them well.
A/N: Written for songs_in_time Valentine's Day Exchange. This does take place in my AT Paradigm storyverse and ties in with my current series. For those of you following my storyverse, this will no doubt confuse you more, but answers are coming, I promise! Songfic is an art I'm not sure I've mastered yet, but I hope this is what you were looking for, ladychi !
Fire. Death and dying; timestreams unraveling and lives innumerable snuffed out with only the echoes of their screams left to haunt him.
It wasn’t real.
It couldn’t be real.
Not even the Universe was this cruel.
Except for when it was.
He saw it all, the citadel cracking like an egg before shattering out into a thousand pieces, slicing silver leaves from the trees only an instant before the fire transformed the branches to ash; gouging out wounds in the earth only heartsbeats before the crimson grass became black. The atmosphere burned, the planet shook until it tore itself to pieces, shredded out of the fabric of time itself.
And all that time, it was screaming.
Over and over again he saw, he smelt, he heard and he felt the pain he’d inflicted on his people, on his home. It burned him from the inside out until he was so hollow he just knew he’d collapse. Maybe once his ashes joined with theirs, it wouldn’t hurt so badly.
It was a horrible dichotomy, this existence. The pain was so unbelievably unbearable that he screamed, cried, begged and pleaded; would have done anything to make it stop. And yet all that while he knew it was only what he deserved; his just reparation for the blood on his hands.
So it was, then, that as the burning pain was soothed and cooled and eased until he floated in blissful darkness, he wasn’t certain if things were better or worse. Then came the time when he wasn’t sure about anything at all.
……………………………………………………………………..
Waking was an inordinately slow process.
Whatever surface he was lying on was soft almost to the point of opulence and there was a smell in the air that put him at immediate ease. There was a warm, damp cloth that wiped tenderly over his face and neck, using just enough pressure to soothe raw nerves without becoming abrasive. Warm hands-smooth in contrast to the slight roughness of the flannel-brushed over his skin in caresses that flooded him with a warmth divine only because it was so simple; simple like the feel of afternoon sun on bare skin.
In his life, he’d had very little time for the simple things; the little joys that make everyday life worth living. If he was honest with himself, he’d had little patience for them either. He was more concerned with the greater joys, the epic struggles; such things that poets lauded and troubadours immortalized. He had looked down his nose at those who claimed happiness in the small and the simple. He had taken his stance and upheld belief in his rightness with the superiority of a…well, of a superior being.
He very, very rarely admitted to being wrong.
However-he mused as he lay hovering between sleep and waking-he would be perfectly and earnestly willing to admit defeat and throw himself to the mercies of the common man if it meant that this simple, uncomplicated comfort would stay. Somehow he knew it had to stay or he would be lost into the vast and utter blackness that lurked just around the corner; always out of sight, never out of mind.
As if his admission of his own error was the key or switch, he felt himself floating higher and higher towards waking; closer to the source of this simple pleasure; like a flower reaching towards the sun. Although, he admitted hazily. If I’m a flower-and that doesn’t seem quite right-but if I am, I should probably find somewhere to set down roots.
It was a testament to just how fogged his mind had become, that the aforementioned thought didn’t startle him into total wakefulness for a full three seconds. When the reality of his words finally sunk in, he jerked upright, gasping for breath like a man pulled from a capsized ship. Gentle hands pressed at his shoulders, urging him to lie back, even as a tender voice told him to let go of his fears and sleep; he wouldn’t be alone.
Alone.
The memories flooded back and washed over him, his mind now in almost synchronized pain with his body. He recognized this pain-the physical pain of a botched regeneration. He had survived and they had died and he had killed them and now he would be left to languish; utterly alone. He rolled to his side and curled into a ball, wrapping his arms around his middle and trying to make himself as small as he possibly could, but this simple joy was having none of that. The bed dipped behind him and impossibly dainty fingers brushed over his arms while a warm body pressed against his back, curling itself to fit against him, to brace him while a mind slipped into his own.
It was gradual-his mind was so wounded; ripped and shredded-because it had to be. It was like the slow progression of morning through a window, the light easing into the dark places with such an understated strength that the shadows were powerless to resist. It was, however, unlike sunlight in one delightful way; this warmth, this light…it did not retreat. It flowed gently over a mental battlefield, acting as nature would in a corporeal war-zone. The wounds were gently but persistently closed, leaving scars instead of gaping holes. Pieces were pulled back together and as his mind was pulled away from the brink, his body finally, finally began to relax. Slowly he felt his limbs elongate as muscles eased, his entire being unfolding until he rested against the body behind him.
A kiss was pressed to the back of his neck and as he fell asleep, he had the oddly reassuring sensation of rooting himself to that light; that warmth. In that, he was content.
……………………………………………………………………….
The next time he wakes, he realizes that he is naked.
Not an odd occurrence really, at least within the grand scheme of things. There are plenty of valid explanations for why he has woken up naked.
Sadly, very few of them float when faced with the addition of a very real and very naked female pressed against his chest. He brushes fingertips along her side and buries his nose in soft hair he can’t tell the color of. He realizes that there is something waiting for him; hovering just on the edges of memory. If he reaches out, it’ll come back to him, but given the option of the unknown and the simple comforts here in this bed…he knows it isn’t even a choice.
There are warm arms around him and a warm light in his mind. The rest of the universe can go and hang itself.
…………………………………………………………………
She’d stayed too long.
Koschei may beg to differ, but there are rules-even for them.
She’d done what she’d come to do and she really should leave…but she couldn’t make herself move. It just…it felt so very good to lay with him like this. It was a comfort she hadn’t had in millennia. He felt so solid, so strong and so real-of course because he was all of those things. And of course, it would be because he was all of those things that she really had to leave. This wasn’t one of her dreams, where her actions had no consequence beyond the ones she chose. This was his timeline.
This was real and-despite the fact that she wanted to so badly it hurt-she couldn’t change anything.
Reaching one hand up, she caressed the lines of his face, running her nails ever-so-lightly across his scalp. The short-cropped hair tickled her fingertips, but she didn’t mind. She wasn’t even disappointed in the lack of what she’d once fondly called ‘semi-sentient’ hair, because while that was indubitably him, so was this.
As she was now, she could see things that no one should ever bear witness to; either for their atrocity or their beauty. As she was now, she understood things she was only barely beginning to recognize in her time with him. She understood the exquisite agony of seeing literally the best and the worst of creation. She understood the responsibility that he felt towards every living thing; life in any form was far too precious to be wasted. But mainly, mostly, she had grasped completely the concept of his being the same man. These forms he wore and shed, they were no more than the skin of a snake, discarded as he grew and changed. For a species as naturally inclined to stasis as his was, these changes were the grace of creation.
She should know, she’d worn and shed more than a few in her time.
It wasn’t the same thing, of course, but it was close enough. At last she understood his attraction to Reinette, to Sarah-Jane and the others.
Understanding wasn’t the same as accepting. It had taken centuries more for that to come, but come it had and it would come again.
He was so amazingly beautiful to her. Not just on the surface and not just deep down, but all the way through. His pros and his cons; his dark and light…she understood now the need for all aspects and delighted in them all the more.
Slowly disentangling herself from his limbs where they’d twisted with her own, she pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and leaned back to roll away and change, only to feel a hand grasped around her upper arm. Surprised, she turned to find a pair of blue eyes pleading with her for…for acceptance? For answers? For promises? She didn’t have those to offer him; not anymore. No…he just wanted her to stay.
The fact that she knew that without his saying so was more than enough reason for her to hightail it now, but she’d never been able to refuse him, especially when he was in pain.
So, with a soft smile, she rolled back into him and wrapped arms and legs around his battle-torn body; his own personal shield against the storm outside.
“Wh-“ She cut his soft and raspy question off with a kiss. She couldn’t talk. She couldn’t answer. She couldn’t do anything that would give away his own future. But she could give him this.
Slow yet firm, she pressed against his mouth, moving her lips against his until she felt him hesitantly respond. The delight that ran through her then transcended the sexual cravings of this corporeal form-and those were quite definitively starting to awaken. As he opened his mouth to her, she felt his mind open also. She knew she shouldn’t; it was a universally bad idea. She ran through a list of just why she shouldn’t, but it wasn’t enough.
With a shudder, she opened her own barriers and poured herself into him.
…………………………………………………………………..
He felt her release barriers and flood his mind with…with her. There was no other way to describe it. With a groan of pleasure, he rolled them until she was trapped beneath him and ran his fingers through her hair. As she filled his own mind, all warmth and golden sunlight and joy, he let go and slid into hers. The groundwork had already been laid, but this was something more final; more binding. He couldn’t name it if he tried; he just knew. It could keep her here; keep her with him.
It had to.
As the pieces of their minds slid and locked into place, something inside of him snapped. His kiss turned wilder, tongue sweeping in to explore her mouth, to find all of those little places that would make her squirm; make her his. To his surprise-and no little delight-she didn’t just allow him. She didn’t push him away, but she was about as passive as a wild thing. If he was to taste her, to own her, she’d have her own way as well and he couldn’t deny her that. Between the two of them, what had begun gently became feral.
His mouth traveled to the juncture between her neck and shoulder, sucking the blood to the surface before biting down hard enough to draw it from her. “Mine,” he snarled out rather breathlessly. A small part of him quailed at such ferocity, but he quickly squelched it. There would be time later to be appalled at his primitive desires; now was not that time.
His breath hitched as she caught his earlobe between her teeth and bit down, a shiver traveling up his spine as she matched his assertion.
“Mine.” It was the first word he’d heard her speak with clarity and it warmed him even as it galvanized his desire into further action. His mouth moved from his mark and trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses down her skin. Between her breasts he pressed his face, inhaling deeply the intoxicating combination of pheromones and sweat and chemicals that were unique to this woman. A very primitive part of his mind-a part he would vehemently deny existed-catalogued the combination as the smell of his mate.
Satisfied, he nipped the soft flesh there-delighted in her mewl of pleasure-and moved to engulf her right nipple in his mouth, nipping and rolling it with his tongue as his fingers mimicked the motions on her other breast. Her noises were free and uninhibited as her back arched her further into his mouth. Her hands found his head and he moaned as fingernails trailed lines of fire down his neck and shoulders. There was no cloth to interfere with touch and he found the feel of her intoxicating. She was fire; living, glorious fire and for the first time it felt good to burn.
…………………………………………………………….
He was sleeping again.
All those years she’d wondered why it was he never seemed to sleep. She had finally asked him; once. He’d stared into the middle distance before shaking it off and shooting her a manic grin.
“Time Lord, me,” he’d assured her. “Don’t waste our lives asleep like you humans.” He’d then cupped her face in his hand and run his thumb along the apple of her cheek. At the time, she’d taken his word for it and never given it another thought.
She knew better now.
All those times they’d been stuck somewhere and he’d just happened to fall asleep leaning on her or providing her a pillow; even the rare occasions where he’d sit with her in her bed on the TARDIS and doze off… It wasn’t that he didn’t need sleep. It was that his mind wouldn’t relax without its match. Even though the bond hadn’t been established in her timeline yet, it had in his and his mind-more than likely subconsciously-had sought out its mate in hers. He didn’t sleep without her because the primitive parts of his psyche told him it wasn’t safe to rest without his bond-mate.
With that understanding came resolve.
She had unlimited power and an entire universe to use it in. Those years in between…well, she caused the problem-after a fashion-and now she had the ability to fix it; to make it better.
With a tender brush of fingertips to his temple, she guided him into a deeper sleep.
It was hell to leave like this. She knew her own physiology as well as she knew his. Even in her current predicament, her natural state had priority. She knew leaving now meant the bond between them wouldn’t stabilize. She knew perfectly well that the sense of completeness she held so close to her chest would fade until the next time she’d be with him. Bonds of this nature needed at least a week of near-constant contact to cement themselves.
As she pulled on her clothes with shaking hands, she bit her lip hard and told herself repeatedly that this was the only way. The pieces of the bond that would stay would hold him together long enough to find her and then the timelines would be restored.
Still…
It was mental anguish to lose one’s bond mate, even so early as this… It was a split-second decision, and she didn’t like it. Nevertheless, it needed to be done.
Tender fingertips pressed again on his temples. The pulsing link between them meant she could have slipped in his mind from a distance, but that left ‘fingerprints’ she couldn’t afford. Slowly, methodically and with infinite care, she found his memories of her and of this and very gently slipped them into a box only she had the key to, then buried it subtly under nearly a millennium of other memories, so he’d never even wonder. That done, she eased out, leaving gentle triggers for joy, for peace and for her love. Most of them he wouldn’t trip until long after he’d lost her, but they-and the golden healing sheen in his psyche-were the only gifts she could leave him.
She stood then, fixing the sight of him like this into her memories, because she knew it was the last time she’d see this beloved face. Then, before she could change her mind, she stepped out of his room and closed the door behind her.
The corridors were just how she remembered them, only different. It was an odd difference, subtle. Or it could be that her memories weren’t as good as they used to be. After all, it was the first time she’d set foot here in…millennia.
She spent a long time in the console room, hands pressed to one of the coral support struts as she caught up with the TARDIS, grateful once again for the timelessness of this great creature. Here she had to hide nothing, because-like her-the TARDIS existed outside of time. It was a soothing comfort to wrap herself in a song it seemed she’d known her entire life, but even that couldn’t last. He’d sleep, but for how long? She couldn’t be caught here. It would undo everything.
And so, with the reluctance of someone so very, very tired, she stepped away from the support strut and looked over the console room, tears she refused to acknowledge pooling in her eyes. This was home.
This wasn’t her first home, nor would it be her last, but it was her true home. No matter where she went, what she did, a piece of her would always be missing; left here with her TARDIS and her Time Lord.
With the full and heavy knowledge that she wouldn’t see this place again with these eyes, the Timend Goddess squeezed her eyes shut and vanished.
She didn’t hear the strains of mournful music that followed her departure down the TARDIS corridors, but she knew them well.
………………………………………………………………………….
The Autons had cornered him.
It was a sad and pathetic truth, really. He whose name was whispered in fear among the darkest corners of the universe would be killed by Autons. It was an ignoble fate to be certain, but the truth was that he didn’t feel like fighting it. The Nestene Consciousness lost its home because of his war. It was meet that he should die by its hand. His only regret lay in the lone human girl he’d sentenced alongside him. With tired eyes he turned to look at her, willing her to put some of that abundant human resourcefulness to the task; willing her to live.
As she met his eyes, he saw determination rise and he couldn’t help but smile. She would leave him. She would escape and he could die in peace…only, she wasn’t running.
The clank of a broken chain, the sounds of her assertive voice, the boiling of the Consciousness below, all sounds fell silent as his field of vision was entirely taken by the form of a small human child while she swung from that chain and saved him. He rid himself of his own attacker and tried his best to block out the screams of the creature below him.
She’d overestimated the amount of energy needed for the swing, though. She was careening out of control and his breath caught in his throat. As she swung back his way, he braced himself and caught her eye. With a degree of trust that would awe him for years to come, she let go and trusted him to catch her.
He did, of course. There was nothing in this universe that could have stopped him from catching her. Her adrenaline-fueled smile of gratitude was almost expected, the strains of music it triggered in his mind, however, weren’t.
When the hour is upon us
And our beauty surely gone
No you will not be forgotten
No you will not be alone
………………………………………………………………
Cardiff! Naples would have been better. At least in Naples there would have been some dignity afforded him. Wales was much less kind.
They backed him into a cell-him and his little South-London spitfire-and closed in with all the persistence of the dead. Which, to be fair, they were. A glance to his companion then and he couldn’t suppress a wince. She’d been right all along. He’d lied to Gwyneth against her wishes and this was the result. He should have listened to her, but it had been too long since he hadn’t been alone. He was too used to being the battle commander and the reminder of more casualties that were his fault…it robbed him of his reason.
Casting a glance to his right, he took her in. She really was beautiful. Not just for a human-he truly was a coward-but for anything. As she took his hand and sent him reassurances, he was floored. Here they were, about to die, and she wanted to absolve him. The reality of it sent a flash of gold over his vision and all he could think to say was;
“I’m so glad I met you.”
The smile that bloomed over her face at that made him shiver. Even when faced with her imminent death, she could take such joy from his simple admission…
“Me too.”
No sooner had the words left her mouth than he heard it again, those same strains of music filtering through his mind.
And when the day has all but ended
And our echo starts to fade
No you will not be alone then
And you will not be afraid
No you will not be afraid
And he wasn’t, not anymore.
……………………………………………………………
It wasn’t his personal definition of hell. No, that would have more of Jackie Tyler’s meatloaf and less of his own precious girl. Still, the Beast was getting to her, he could tell. It was the growing up in a culture that still used religious fear to control its youth. He couldn’t remove that from her, but he could hold her close. He could comfort her and draw comfort from her.
Even stranded without his ship, there was hope. There was hope because she still believed in him and he’d never let that down. He’d come so close to losing that faith, but not again; never again.
Still, he was an explorer by nature. He had an insatiable curiosity and he knew, despite her fear for him-which was palpable-and her own desire to follow, to see and learn-which was obvious-that she would stay where he left her this time. He knew she wouldn’t follow into danger because she knew there had to be someone up there to hold things together.
When her lips pressed against the glass of his helmet, he spared a moment wishing the glass had not been there.
When they lost their communications with topside, he flung open his mind and let his connection to her sing to life, because he couldn’t cope with the not knowing.
As he fell into the blackness below, he could see her doing what needed to be done, see her saving lives because she cared. When he hit the bottom, he passed into unconsciousness with a smile.
Faced with the Beast, with the reality of what had to be done, he balked. He talked around in circles to buy himself time to find another way, but what he found was far more precious. He turned to the chained creature with a light of understanding dawning on his face. Flashes of her passed behind his eyes, the edges softened by a golden light. This was not his demon, because this was not his hell. To have a hell, there had to be a deity and he’d seen far too many pretend to be such to put credence to it. He’d been considered one himself on several occasions and if that wasn’t enough to shame the concept, he didn’t know what was.
He didn’t believe in the rules of his people-they’d brought nothing but a painful end-and he didn’t deign to have faith in any religion, because he’d seen their roots; their realities. The only thing left to him was unbelief, except in her.
She had swallowed up the entire Time Vortex, bonded intimately with one of the greatest creatures in existence and sacrificed everything to save him, because she couldn’t bear the thought of existence without him. Even then, with the whole of Time and Space running through her head, she had retained her sense of Self. She had done what was needed and was prepared to die because he was safe. When she couldn’t let go to the TARDIS, she surrendered that power to him.
He realized then that the faith she had in him wasn’t only one-sided. With that realization came strength. He would defeat this thing and trust in her to save them, because when it went beyond him, she was the only thing left.
With this realization came strains of a song he hadn’t heard in this body. Not since the Gelth had he felt these notes steal over his mind.
When the fog has finally lifted
From my cold and tired brow
No I will not leave you crying
And I will not let you down
No I will not let you down
I will not let you down
And so he crushed the power source, sent them hurtling towards the black hole. His choice sent the whole planet shaking, and at the first sight of his beloved TARDIS, he could see her again. She was crying, being sedated and forced to leave him here-as she thought-to die. She woke up somewhere strange and killed a man to save the universe, still waiting for him to return to her. He didn’t think that faith would break even if it took him a hundred years to find her, but he’d rather not test it.
He couldn’t wait that long.
…………………………………………………………………
Three months.
It had been three months since the day he’d said goodbye to the most precious girl the universe had ever shown him.
It hadn’t hit him fully at first. Donna and her loud, vivacious energy saw to that. Still, when she had gone home to Christmas dinner, the silence had become…inescapable. He’d been almost glad to see the odd readings at that hospital, glad to have someone to break the silence. It wasn’t her; it would never be her. But it helped.
Too soon, that mystery had been solved. Too soon he was again in the Vortex, alone.
He had no illusions. He knew he’d go back for her. He was far too lonely to survive on his own and Donna’s words still echoed in his head; but not yet. He was still too raw. He’d spent three months alone in adventure after adventure, willing the pain to recede to a manageable level.
It never did.
He did everything he could think of, followed every lead, but there was no way back to her. It was her he needed, but it seemed she was what the universe was hell-bent on denying him. In all that time, he poured over books, sought out experts and moved mountains-literally, one of the missing scrolls of Terra’fil was buried under a mountain-but to no avail.
Finally, he had no choice.
Binding his eyes closed-because given that power, there’s no guarantee that he wouldn’t pull apart the fabric of space-time to bring her back-he opened the console and sat in the captain’s chair. This was the heart of his TARDIS and as surely as she had looked into his ship, his ship had looked into her. There were pieces of her woven here, the last pieces of her left in this universe. As the warmth flowed around him, he could smell her, taste her, hear her laugh and feel her arms enclosing him in safety, but most of all, he felt a wash of gold in his mind. It was soft and gentle, working with the understated persistence of morning sunlight through a window. It acted as Nature would have done on a corporeal battlefield, turning wounds and rents into scars and blanketing everything in a love so powerful it had once bent Time to its will; all to the accompaniment of strains of music he never thought to hear again.
Now comes the night
Feel it fading away
And the soul underneath
Is it all that remains
So just slide over here
Leave your fear in the fray
Let us hold to each other
Till the end of our days
Sadly, like sunlight, this simple comfort retreated from his mind, leaving him alone again; scarred but not bleeding.
He could exist now. He could go on and live his life. It wouldn’t be easy and it would be exquisitely painful, but it could-and would-be done.
She wouldn’t believe in anything less from him.
……………………………………………………………………………
He stood next to her on the damp sands of a beach that had haunted his dreams for longer than he’d care to admit. Vanishing before their eyes was a small blue box that had-for both of them-meant home for a very long time. She stepped away from him, as if to run after it; he didn’t stop her.
He was different now, he knew that. She knew that. She wasn’t stupid. He couldn’t feel her in the back of his mind like he was so used to doing. It left him feeling empty and alone, despite being able to see her right in front of his eyes. Did it matter that he had the same memories? Did it matter that he had been born into the universe with such an all-consuming love for her?
As the final whisper of the TARDIS’ dematerialization sequence echoed across the rocky bay, he heard strains of a more familiar sort, skittering across his mind and reminding him rather forcefully that this was Rose. She was older. There was pain in her eyes and some of her innocence was gone. She wasn’t what she was, but then, neither was he.
When the hour is upon us
And our beauty surely gone
No you will not be forgotten
No you will not be alone
With hope blooming in his heart-and that would take some serious getting used to-he stepped forward and reached for her hand. He held his breath, watching her face carefully. She turned to him and reached back. A brilliant smile broke out on his face, matched by her own as their hands slid together.
Yep, still a perfect fit.