Round 3: Murphy's Law
Title: Murphy's Law
Author:verdant_gt
Beta: kaliopemuse
Characters: Nine/Rose
Rating: PG
Summary: Everyone knows that you never say it can't get worse because the universe guarantees that it will after that.
Written for the prompt #19: Things are never so bad they can't be made worse. - Humphrey Bogart
"You just had to say it didn't you?" Nine said as he held Rose's hand tight, running along the beach.
"What? Are you saying this is my fault?" She asked incredulously and shot him a glare.
"Rose, everyone knows that you never, ever say ----" And here he did a fair approximation of Rose, including falsetto voice that sounded funny with his accent. "It can't get worse." Nine shook his head. "You just don't."
"Oh right. And the poking of your nose into someone else's business, then telling them exactly what they were doing wrong had nothing to do with it." Rose rolled her eyes and picked up speed as an arrow shot pretty close to where they were running.
"Glad you agree."
There were times when he was a right pain in the ass, Rose thought but didn't waste brain power on any more of those thoughts. Instead, all of her concentration was centered on staying alive, keeping up with his long strides and ignoring the stitch in her side.
It wasn't until they were safely aboard the TARDIS that Rose realized the stitch hadn't gone away. She waited until the Doctor was preoccupied with setting the coordinates on the console before she glanced down to check. In the mood he was in, she didn't want to give him another reason to gripe and it was probably nothing anyway.
Rose breathed a sigh of relief when she saw there wasn't blood, dried or otherwise, on her side. She turned her back a little to give her privacy so that she could raise her shirt just enough to see the skin underneath. There was a red welt with lines radiating out of it. Her brow knit, wondering what had happened.
She yelped in surprise when gentle hands accompanied by a soft rough voice tugged the hem of her shirt out of her hands. "Let me see."
"Oi! I'm going to put a bell around your neck."
The Doctor ignored her easily and scowled when he noticed the mark on her skin. "Leave it to you, Rose Tyler. You are a trouble magnet."
"Yeah? Must be why we get on so well then." She tried to tug her shirt back down but he kept hold of it stubbornly. "It's nothing. Just a scratch. I probably got knicked by one of the stones on the beach as we ran."
His finger gently traced the redness and he noticed the way her muscles jumped in retaliation. "It's something." The Doctor said roughly. "You got grazed by one of their arrows." The red marks radiating out concerned him. That usually meant poison and he wasn't sure if he had the antidote on board. "Right then, to the infirmary for you."
"I'm fine." Rose protested but let him drag her toward the infirmary just the same. Truth was, it was still a niggling pain. Not that she'd admit that to him, mind you.
The Doctor pointed to a chair and grunted at her to sit while he rummaged around for something.
Rose glared at his back as she settled. She wasn't a good patient at the best of times, another aspect that she shared with the Doctor. "The way you were going on you'd think the arrow was poisoned or something." She rolled her eyes, never realizing how close to the truth she came. That was, until the comment was met by silence and a tightening of his shoulders.
That took the bite out of her temper. "Doctor?"
Still silence.
"You have the antidote, yeah?"
Still more silence.
Rose watched him for another full minute in silence, then sighed heavily. "Well, I suppose it's better than being killed by the Gelt or bombs in Downey Street."
The Doctor whipped around and glared. "You're not dying." His voice was clipped with anger, mostly at himself.
"Course not. You'll think of something. You always do. Just saying if I have to go it's better than those two ways. Silver lining and all." Rose tried to smile but it didn't quite make it.
Her eyes sought his. "Doesn't matter. I made my choice a long time ago and I wouldn't have changed it for the world." Rose was very sincere with that confession.
The Doctor looked at her for a moment, determination in every line of his body. He was not going to lose another one. He was not going to lose Rose especially. He'd made that vow after that time with Van Stanton.
Instead of answering her, he brought the two bottles in his hand over to where she sat. "Drink this one."
Rose wrinkled her nose, it looked like red sludge and figured it probably tasted as good as it looked. "All of it?" God, she hoped he just meant a swallow --- if she could get that down.
"All of it." He reiterated and picked up a cloth before upending the other bottle onto it. Soaking it through with brown vile smelling liquid.
"God! What is that? Never mind I don't want to know." She was suddenly grateful that she'd been given the red sludge to drink instead of the other bottle.
The Doctor waited until she began to drink, then placed the cloth over the wound.
Rose yelped and almost dropped the bottle. She did try to squirm away but the Doctor had expected that and grabbed onto her wrist to hold her in place. "Don't move. I know it hurts but it will draw the poison out."
"A little warning would have been nice." She glared at him and finished up her drink. At least the pain distracted her from the horrible tasting liquid.
Rose set the now empty bottle on a small nearby table and glanced down hoping to see the wound cleared up or smoke rising from where her flesh had melted from the bone.
Neither happened. What she saw was the Doctor's head bent over and his hand softly rubbing around the area. The pain had long gone, and it was replaced by a warmth that she wasn't sure of the cause. It was either the medicine or whatever concoction he'd put on her, or the result of feeling his hand caress her abdomen even through cloth.
"How's it look?" Rose's voice was a little rougher than she had anticipated but she pretended that it was due to the red sludge. She cleared her throat as a desperate act of denial.
The caressing instantly stopped with her question as if he hadn't realized he'd been doing that until that moment. "Better." The Doctor took his hand away and sat up so that she could see it. Where it had been red with lines, the color was down to a light pink. "You'll be good as new soon enough." He said roughly and stood up gathering the empty supplies. "Rest a bit, have a few things to do in the console room and I'll check back in about an hour."
He didn't wait for her to respond, but turned on his heel and dumped the empty bottles and rag on his way out the door.
"Here's your hat, what's your hurry." She muttered as she watched him go but she also understood. There were times when he shared himself emotionally with her, and other times he closed himself off. Rose just wished that he would do more of the former rather than the other.
~~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The Doctor waited until he was far enough away, that there was no chance of Rose seeing him when he slumped against the wall. Until he'd pulled the cloth back and saw the pink he had no idea if his idea would work. He'd come very close to losing her, closer than he wanted to admit, and it hurt.
Author:verdant_gt
Beta: kaliopemuse
Characters: Nine/Rose
Rating: PG
Summary: Everyone knows that you never say it can't get worse because the universe guarantees that it will after that.
Written for the prompt #19: Things are never so bad they can't be made worse. - Humphrey Bogart
"You just had to say it didn't you?" Nine said as he held Rose's hand tight, running along the beach.
"What? Are you saying this is my fault?" She asked incredulously and shot him a glare.
"Rose, everyone knows that you never, ever say ----" And here he did a fair approximation of Rose, including falsetto voice that sounded funny with his accent. "It can't get worse." Nine shook his head. "You just don't."
"Oh right. And the poking of your nose into someone else's business, then telling them exactly what they were doing wrong had nothing to do with it." Rose rolled her eyes and picked up speed as an arrow shot pretty close to where they were running.
"Glad you agree."
There were times when he was a right pain in the ass, Rose thought but didn't waste brain power on any more of those thoughts. Instead, all of her concentration was centered on staying alive, keeping up with his long strides and ignoring the stitch in her side.
It wasn't until they were safely aboard the TARDIS that Rose realized the stitch hadn't gone away. She waited until the Doctor was preoccupied with setting the coordinates on the console before she glanced down to check. In the mood he was in, she didn't want to give him another reason to gripe and it was probably nothing anyway.
Rose breathed a sigh of relief when she saw there wasn't blood, dried or otherwise, on her side. She turned her back a little to give her privacy so that she could raise her shirt just enough to see the skin underneath. There was a red welt with lines radiating out of it. Her brow knit, wondering what had happened.
She yelped in surprise when gentle hands accompanied by a soft rough voice tugged the hem of her shirt out of her hands. "Let me see."
"Oi! I'm going to put a bell around your neck."
The Doctor ignored her easily and scowled when he noticed the mark on her skin. "Leave it to you, Rose Tyler. You are a trouble magnet."
"Yeah? Must be why we get on so well then." She tried to tug her shirt back down but he kept hold of it stubbornly. "It's nothing. Just a scratch. I probably got knicked by one of the stones on the beach as we ran."
His finger gently traced the redness and he noticed the way her muscles jumped in retaliation. "It's something." The Doctor said roughly. "You got grazed by one of their arrows." The red marks radiating out concerned him. That usually meant poison and he wasn't sure if he had the antidote on board. "Right then, to the infirmary for you."
"I'm fine." Rose protested but let him drag her toward the infirmary just the same. Truth was, it was still a niggling pain. Not that she'd admit that to him, mind you.
The Doctor pointed to a chair and grunted at her to sit while he rummaged around for something.
Rose glared at his back as she settled. She wasn't a good patient at the best of times, another aspect that she shared with the Doctor. "The way you were going on you'd think the arrow was poisoned or something." She rolled her eyes, never realizing how close to the truth she came. That was, until the comment was met by silence and a tightening of his shoulders.
That took the bite out of her temper. "Doctor?"
Still silence.
"You have the antidote, yeah?"
Still more silence.
Rose watched him for another full minute in silence, then sighed heavily. "Well, I suppose it's better than being killed by the Gelt or bombs in Downey Street."
The Doctor whipped around and glared. "You're not dying." His voice was clipped with anger, mostly at himself.
"Course not. You'll think of something. You always do. Just saying if I have to go it's better than those two ways. Silver lining and all." Rose tried to smile but it didn't quite make it.
Her eyes sought his. "Doesn't matter. I made my choice a long time ago and I wouldn't have changed it for the world." Rose was very sincere with that confession.
The Doctor looked at her for a moment, determination in every line of his body. He was not going to lose another one. He was not going to lose Rose especially. He'd made that vow after that time with Van Stanton.
Instead of answering her, he brought the two bottles in his hand over to where she sat. "Drink this one."
Rose wrinkled her nose, it looked like red sludge and figured it probably tasted as good as it looked. "All of it?" God, she hoped he just meant a swallow --- if she could get that down.
"All of it." He reiterated and picked up a cloth before upending the other bottle onto it. Soaking it through with brown vile smelling liquid.
"God! What is that? Never mind I don't want to know." She was suddenly grateful that she'd been given the red sludge to drink instead of the other bottle.
The Doctor waited until she began to drink, then placed the cloth over the wound.
Rose yelped and almost dropped the bottle. She did try to squirm away but the Doctor had expected that and grabbed onto her wrist to hold her in place. "Don't move. I know it hurts but it will draw the poison out."
"A little warning would have been nice." She glared at him and finished up her drink. At least the pain distracted her from the horrible tasting liquid.
Rose set the now empty bottle on a small nearby table and glanced down hoping to see the wound cleared up or smoke rising from where her flesh had melted from the bone.
Neither happened. What she saw was the Doctor's head bent over and his hand softly rubbing around the area. The pain had long gone, and it was replaced by a warmth that she wasn't sure of the cause. It was either the medicine or whatever concoction he'd put on her, or the result of feeling his hand caress her abdomen even through cloth.
"How's it look?" Rose's voice was a little rougher than she had anticipated but she pretended that it was due to the red sludge. She cleared her throat as a desperate act of denial.
The caressing instantly stopped with her question as if he hadn't realized he'd been doing that until that moment. "Better." The Doctor took his hand away and sat up so that she could see it. Where it had been red with lines, the color was down to a light pink. "You'll be good as new soon enough." He said roughly and stood up gathering the empty supplies. "Rest a bit, have a few things to do in the console room and I'll check back in about an hour."
He didn't wait for her to respond, but turned on his heel and dumped the empty bottles and rag on his way out the door.
"Here's your hat, what's your hurry." She muttered as she watched him go but she also understood. There were times when he shared himself emotionally with her, and other times he closed himself off. Rose just wished that he would do more of the former rather than the other.
~~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The Doctor waited until he was far enough away, that there was no chance of Rose seeing him when he slumped against the wall. Until he'd pulled the cloth back and saw the pink he had no idea if his idea would work. He'd come very close to losing her, closer than he wanted to admit, and it hurt.