Singing This Song for You (1/1)
Title: Singing This Song For You
Author: Gail R. Delaney
Series: The Unseen and In Between
Setting: Immediately after Blink. This single bit is part of a bigger, longer story that I’m working on titled Long Journey Home, that will ‘fix’ the end of Series 4 - but it can stand alone, so I’m posting.
Genre: Angst - I’m sorry. But, love, too
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine. If I owned Doctor Who, Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant would be my own private little playmates.
Summary: At Shireen’s Wedding, the Doctor asked Rose to sing for him. (As detailed in my story Driving Lessons)
A/N: If you want to hear the song ‘sung’… I love Michael Buble’s version. You can watch it on YouTube at the following link. I didn’t embed.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gAuwdcADcIU
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“Everything is just like I left it,” Martha said, her heavy footsteps vibrating through the metal grating beneath the Doctor’s back.
“What did you expect,” he asked around the sonic screwdriver held between his teeth. When he found the conduit he wanted, he took the screwdriver from his mouth and set it to 476 before zapping the connection.
“Don’t know,” Martha said from over the console. He looked sideways and saw her feet beside him. She crouched, but he was so far beneath the console, he only saw up to her bent knees and where her hands hung loose between them. “Guess it’d been so long I figured it’d be all dusty or something.”
“We don’t know how long the TARDIS was actually without us, Martha. For us it was…” He trailed off, calibrating his internal linear time line. “Three months, two weeks, five days, seventeen hours, forty-seven minutes and… hummmm… approximately 33.5 seconds. For her, it could have been no more than ten minutes.”
“Approximately,” Martha said with a chuckle.
“Yeah. Just estimating, really.”
She stood and walked to the jump seat, the springs squeaking when she sat. “I knew this bloke in school that named his car, called her Roxie. He wouldn’t let you get in with shoes on, and polished it every Saturday. But, he never talked about Roxie like she was alive like you do with the TARDIS.”
The Doctor focused on the conduit. He’d planned on doing this minor repair before the angels had thrown him and Martha to 1969, but hadn’t gotten to it. Like he told Martha, he had no idea how long the TARDIS had been alone, and his ship wasn’t telling, so he wanted to make sure it was fixed before they travelled again. More to fact, he was trying not to think of Martha’s flat view of the TARDIS, and tried not to remember how deeply Rose had known the truth.
“Probably because Roxie wasn’t alive.”
“I mean, I know you’ve got this kind of mental connection to the ship and all, but that’s just a way to drive it - control it, right?”
“I warn you, Martha… the TARDIS doesn’t like being talked about like she’s not here.”
Thick.
The word tickled over his consciousness and he grinned, feeling the slight edge of sarcasm the TARDIS laced with the word. “Behave,” he said softly.
“What’d you say?”
The Doctor cleared his throat and scooted on his back to get out from beneath the console. “Nothing,” he said gaining his feet. He switched on the Latitude Relay and turned the computer monitor toward him to read the results of his diagnostic. Things seemed relatively normal… hold on. He spoke again, but kept his focus on the feedback. It looked like something in the archive library might be interfering with the diagnostic. “I though you and she came to a bit of an understanding while I was… “ He cleared his throat again. “Otherwise occupied in 1913 England.”
“I don’t know. I mean, I guess I talked to her once or twice when I came in. But, I also used to talk to my computer and my VCR when they wouldn’t work right.”
The Doctor didn’t feel like getting into a debate about the sentient existence of his TARDIS in comparison to Martha’s archaic-in-comparison computer, so he focused silently on the data stream. Something was definitely interfering, and it appeared to be something in the archives. A file, or some sort of record.
“You’re going to be tied up with this for hours, aren’t you.”
He intended to nod, or hum some affirmative response, but the archived file had him perplexed and his inclination to answer her got lost somewhere between his brain and any part of him that might say “Yes, I’m going to be here for a bit.”
“Just like any other bloke,” Martha said, hopping off the jump seat, her boots loud on the grating. “Get something good on the telly, or some online chat room, and everything else disappears. I’ll be… somewhere.” Then she left him alone, and for a brief moment the Doctor felt guilty for his relief.
He used to love it when Rose sat with him and talked while he worked. Or just sat silently and watched him. He liked the feeling of having her near him, and enjoyed the subtle electricity in the air when she was there. But Martha… he knew that standing aside and watching him live a life as a human had been a difficult thing to ask of her. And he’d thanked her for it all. But, at times, he had to fight the urge to tell her to leave him be.
But then, he’d be left with the silence. And sometimes the silence was worse than the idle conversation that went nowhere.
The relay diagnostic wavered on the screen and halted for several seconds before continuing. “What is that,” he mumbled, tapping his fingers on the keyboard interface to try and access the file. Maybe if he could open it, he could figure out why it was stopping things up.
A cold rush of panic skittered over his senses, and his fingers paused on the keyboard. He looked up at the engine pistons, squinting. “What? What’s the matter with you?”
Leave it alone.
“Why?”
Please. Pain.
“Who… you? Is this hurting you?”
Please.
If the TARDIS’ plea had been meant to make him ignore the troublesome file, it accomplished the opposite. Even with the TARDIS nudging him to stop, he dug and poked, attempting access to the archive through several different programs - from data language translators to text display modes. Nothing would open the file. If it was bothering her systems, he intended to get it out.
He jabbed in another set of commands, trying a data recovery and recording program. The monitor fuzzed, like snow on an old Earth television, and he watched - hoping he’d found the right approach.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this for you, Doctor.”
He heard her voice before the image cleared, and both hearts seized in his chest. Immediately, his throat constricted and he curled his fingers around the edge of the monitor.
“Rose…”
The image sharpened, the snow clearing, and there she was. He recognized the room she stood in as the music conservatory on the TARDIS, but where she was mattered far less than that she was there.
She took his breath away.
Rose wore a shimmering, silver-sequined evening gown that clung to her curves and wrapped around her bodice to accentuate her breasts and the indent of her waist, a single thin strap tied from the valley of her breasts around her neck. Her blonde hair was parted on the left, and fell in smooth waves around her face to brush her bare shoulders. Crimson lipstick painted her lips, a sharp but appealing contrast to her ‘yellow and pink’ paleness.
A 1940’s-style microphone stood on a stand in front of her and she laid her hand over the top, curling her crimson-tipped fingers around it. Looking ahead, she met his gaze through time.
She cleared her throat and licked her lips. “I don’t know why I can’t do this in front of you, but I want to do this because you asked.”
There were only a few couples on parquet dance floor, and as the band played a slow dance song, the Doctor held Rose’s hand above her head and turned her slowly before circling her waist with his arm and pulling her close. He pressed the hand he held to his chest, covering it with his own as they swayed.
“You’re better at this than you used to be,” she said with a small smirk.
“I’m better at a lost of things than I used to be.”
Rose groaned. “You wish.”
The music slowed, and the Doctor pressed his hand into the small of her back to bring her flush against him and when she settled into his hold, he slid his hand down to just follow the curve of her bottom.
Rose tipped her head back, her cheeks slightly flushed, a sensual smile that begged to be kissed on her lips. “Overall, it’s been a rather uneventful evening,” she said. “No running. A serious lack of running.”
The Doctor looked out across the room, smiling before meeting her eyes. “It’s not always about running. Sometimes, it’s about enjoying. Speaking of which... I would very much enjoy hearing you sing.”
She didn’t say anything, just looking up at him, but the color in her cheeks deepened.
“On Gallifrey, we’re raised to have a deep love of music in all forms. But, my favorite music is the voice… it’s individual and imperfect, and yet the most beautiful thing in the world.” The music continued, but their dancing stopped so the Doctor could lay his hands on her cheeks. Rose slid her arms around his waist. “You must be so beautiful when you sing.”
He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t let go of the grip he hand on the console, leaning forward to watch the screen. Rose looked away from the recording device, curling a bit of hair behind her ear, and he silently begged her to look back so he could see her eyes. The same beautiful blossom of color that had tinted her cheeks at Shireen’s wedding darkened her cheeks in the recording.
“Oh, you beautiful girl,” he said softly to the empty console room.
She raised her head again, and curled both hands around the old microphone. Rose laughed softly and shook her head, rolling her eyes. “Faced robots and monsters and the end of the world…” She trailed off and seemed to gather herself, switching topics as she smoothed her hand over her dress. “Figured if I was going to do it, I’d really do it all out. Seems crazy now.”
He shook her head, even though he knew she’d never know.
“I’ll give this to you someday. I promise.”
Rose looked around, and seemed to find what she wanted on a small stand she had set up near the microphone. She raised a control device and pointed it to the ceiling, and the soft, brassy sound of a trumpet began to play a soulful, jazzy melody with a piano accompaniment.
“I hope you know why I chose this song,” she said over the music. “I mean it all, but there’s one line that…” She huffed, and he saw a sheen of moisture in her eyes. “It’s for you.”
As the trumpet and bras played with the piano, Rose closed her eyes with her head tilted to the side as she listened.
Then she began to sing.
And the Doctor watched through the burn of tears.
“I’ve been so many places in my life and time.” The piano slid through her singing with ease, and she whispered into the microphone “Because of you, Doctor.” Her body swayed softly, and she opened her eyes again - looking right at him. “I’ve sung a lot of songs, I’ve made some bad, bad rhymes. I’ve acted out my life in stages with ten thousand people watching… But, we’re alone now. And I’m singing this song for you.”
Without taking his eyes from the monitor, the Doctor reached out and flipped a switch on the console, and in a burst of sound, the music reverberated around him through the TARDIS harmonics - surrounding him, thrumming through him… filling him.
“I know your image of me is what I hope to be. I’ve treated you unkindly, but Doctor, can’t you see? There’s no one more important to me! So, Doctor, can’t you please see through me? Because we’re alone now and I’m singing this song for you.
Her singing voice was the most powerful, most soul-inspiring sound he had ever heard. Not even the Singing Towers on Darillium could come close, and he had once said they were the most beautiful sound in all the universe.
“You taught me precious secrets, the truth - withholding nothing. You came out front when I was hiding. But now I’m so much better, so if my words don’t come together, listen to the melody because my love is there in hiding.”
A trumpet overtook the music, and as it played a worbling rift, Rose stepped back from the microphone with one hand still resting on it, and looked down as she turned partially away. He saw more of her frame, and the way the dress flowed from her hips into a shimmering cascade of sequins and silk. Her hair fell forward across her cheek, and he couldn’t stop himself from laying his fingertip on the monitor screen, his hand trembling as she curled the bit behind her ear. The trumpet eased away, and she came back to the microphone, curling her lips between her teeth before looking at him again.
“Listen,” she said softly before singing again.
“I love you in a place where there’s no space and time.” She tipped her head back so her voice filled the console room, her arms spread out from her body. The reverberation skimmed over him, and the Doctor choked on the lump caught in his throat. “I love you for my life. You are a friend of mine.
“And when my life is over… Remember, remember, remember when we were together. When we were alone, and I was singing this song for you. Yes, when my life is over, and you remember when we were together… please remember when we were alone and I was singing this song for you.”
She repeated the words, letting her voice drop to a low, huskiness that tingled on his skin. The music died away, and her eyes closed until the notes finished. Finally, with his chest aching, the Doctor blinked against the hot tears.
Rose opened her eyes again, and a tear ran down her cheek. “I can’t seem to say it otherwise, Doctor. So, maybe when you hear this… you’ll know.” Then she shook her head, snatching up the remote where she had returned it. “I’m nutters. I’m going to erase this just as soon as I figure out how.”
With that, she pointed the remote to the camera and jabbed at it several times before the screen went black.
His body shook, and he gripped the console to stay on his feet. The Doctor dropped his head, resting his brow against the monitor as he sucked in sharp breaths. It hurt, oh, how it hurt to see her face and hear her voice. But, it was a pain he wanted because he’d rather have it than have nothing.
So sorry.
“No, no… “ he managed to choke out. “Don’t be sorry. It’s okay.”
“Who was that singin’?” he heard from behind him as Martha jogged into the console room. “It was echoing through the entire TARDIS.”
He couldn’t speak yet, his hands aching from the grip he held on the console edge. The Doctor shifted just enough to give Martha his back, begging for the few precious moments he needed to reign it all in.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I didn’t realize I had engaged the harmonics throughout the ship.” He was proud of the strength in his voice, how it only wavered slightly and only sounded slightly worn.
“No, it’s okay. It was beautiful.”
He finally straightened, releasing the console to run his hand over his face and wipe away any trace of the tide of emotion that he hadn’t been able to hold back. “I’m glad you liked it.”
“So, who was it?”
“Rose,” he said with more force than he intended, and immediately swallowed. He pushed his hands into his pockets and stepped back from the console and the now-black screen. He could almost still hear the echo of trumpets and piano and Rose’s powerful voice. “It was Rose.”
Before Martha could ask any more questions, and before he lost the tight rein of control he’s maintained for so many, many months, the Doctor turned on the balls of his feet and left the console room. He stumbled into their bedroom - a room he had only entered but hadn’t slept in since he lost her. The bed was far too big and far too empty. The Doctor nearly collapsed before he reached the foot of the bed, and sank heavily onto the mattress, holding his head in his hands.
His ship knew what he needed, even though she had hidden the recording from him to protect him from the pain. Now that he felt it - now that he’d heard the song - he wanted more. Within moments, the strain of trumpets and piano filled the room. This time, it was for him only.
He closed his eyes and listened.
“I love you in a place where there’s no space and time. I love you for my life. You are a friend of mine.
“And when my life is over… Remember, remember, remember when we were together. When we were alone, and I was singing this song for you. Yes, when my life is over, and you remember when we were together… please remember when we were alone and I was singing this song for you.”
Author: Gail R. Delaney
Series: The Unseen and In Between
Setting: Immediately after Blink. This single bit is part of a bigger, longer story that I’m working on titled Long Journey Home, that will ‘fix’ the end of Series 4 - but it can stand alone, so I’m posting.
Genre: Angst - I’m sorry. But, love, too
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine. If I owned Doctor Who, Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant would be my own private little playmates.
Summary: At Shireen’s Wedding, the Doctor asked Rose to sing for him. (As detailed in my story Driving Lessons)
A/N: If you want to hear the song ‘sung’… I love Michael Buble’s version. You can watch it on YouTube at the following link. I didn’t embed.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gAuwdcADcIU
?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
“Everything is just like I left it,” Martha said, her heavy footsteps vibrating through the metal grating beneath the Doctor’s back.
“What did you expect,” he asked around the sonic screwdriver held between his teeth. When he found the conduit he wanted, he took the screwdriver from his mouth and set it to 476 before zapping the connection.
“Don’t know,” Martha said from over the console. He looked sideways and saw her feet beside him. She crouched, but he was so far beneath the console, he only saw up to her bent knees and where her hands hung loose between them. “Guess it’d been so long I figured it’d be all dusty or something.”
“We don’t know how long the TARDIS was actually without us, Martha. For us it was…” He trailed off, calibrating his internal linear time line. “Three months, two weeks, five days, seventeen hours, forty-seven minutes and… hummmm… approximately 33.5 seconds. For her, it could have been no more than ten minutes.”
“Approximately,” Martha said with a chuckle.
“Yeah. Just estimating, really.”
She stood and walked to the jump seat, the springs squeaking when she sat. “I knew this bloke in school that named his car, called her Roxie. He wouldn’t let you get in with shoes on, and polished it every Saturday. But, he never talked about Roxie like she was alive like you do with the TARDIS.”
The Doctor focused on the conduit. He’d planned on doing this minor repair before the angels had thrown him and Martha to 1969, but hadn’t gotten to it. Like he told Martha, he had no idea how long the TARDIS had been alone, and his ship wasn’t telling, so he wanted to make sure it was fixed before they travelled again. More to fact, he was trying not to think of Martha’s flat view of the TARDIS, and tried not to remember how deeply Rose had known the truth.
“Probably because Roxie wasn’t alive.”
“I mean, I know you’ve got this kind of mental connection to the ship and all, but that’s just a way to drive it - control it, right?”
“I warn you, Martha… the TARDIS doesn’t like being talked about like she’s not here.”
Thick.
The word tickled over his consciousness and he grinned, feeling the slight edge of sarcasm the TARDIS laced with the word. “Behave,” he said softly.
“What’d you say?”
The Doctor cleared his throat and scooted on his back to get out from beneath the console. “Nothing,” he said gaining his feet. He switched on the Latitude Relay and turned the computer monitor toward him to read the results of his diagnostic. Things seemed relatively normal… hold on. He spoke again, but kept his focus on the feedback. It looked like something in the archive library might be interfering with the diagnostic. “I though you and she came to a bit of an understanding while I was… “ He cleared his throat again. “Otherwise occupied in 1913 England.”
“I don’t know. I mean, I guess I talked to her once or twice when I came in. But, I also used to talk to my computer and my VCR when they wouldn’t work right.”
The Doctor didn’t feel like getting into a debate about the sentient existence of his TARDIS in comparison to Martha’s archaic-in-comparison computer, so he focused silently on the data stream. Something was definitely interfering, and it appeared to be something in the archives. A file, or some sort of record.
“You’re going to be tied up with this for hours, aren’t you.”
He intended to nod, or hum some affirmative response, but the archived file had him perplexed and his inclination to answer her got lost somewhere between his brain and any part of him that might say “Yes, I’m going to be here for a bit.”
“Just like any other bloke,” Martha said, hopping off the jump seat, her boots loud on the grating. “Get something good on the telly, or some online chat room, and everything else disappears. I’ll be… somewhere.” Then she left him alone, and for a brief moment the Doctor felt guilty for his relief.
He used to love it when Rose sat with him and talked while he worked. Or just sat silently and watched him. He liked the feeling of having her near him, and enjoyed the subtle electricity in the air when she was there. But Martha… he knew that standing aside and watching him live a life as a human had been a difficult thing to ask of her. And he’d thanked her for it all. But, at times, he had to fight the urge to tell her to leave him be.
But then, he’d be left with the silence. And sometimes the silence was worse than the idle conversation that went nowhere.
The relay diagnostic wavered on the screen and halted for several seconds before continuing. “What is that,” he mumbled, tapping his fingers on the keyboard interface to try and access the file. Maybe if he could open it, he could figure out why it was stopping things up.
A cold rush of panic skittered over his senses, and his fingers paused on the keyboard. He looked up at the engine pistons, squinting. “What? What’s the matter with you?”
Leave it alone.
“Why?”
Please. Pain.
“Who… you? Is this hurting you?”
Please.
If the TARDIS’ plea had been meant to make him ignore the troublesome file, it accomplished the opposite. Even with the TARDIS nudging him to stop, he dug and poked, attempting access to the archive through several different programs - from data language translators to text display modes. Nothing would open the file. If it was bothering her systems, he intended to get it out.
He jabbed in another set of commands, trying a data recovery and recording program. The monitor fuzzed, like snow on an old Earth television, and he watched - hoping he’d found the right approach.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this for you, Doctor.”
He heard her voice before the image cleared, and both hearts seized in his chest. Immediately, his throat constricted and he curled his fingers around the edge of the monitor.
“Rose…”
The image sharpened, the snow clearing, and there she was. He recognized the room she stood in as the music conservatory on the TARDIS, but where she was mattered far less than that she was there.
She took his breath away.
Rose wore a shimmering, silver-sequined evening gown that clung to her curves and wrapped around her bodice to accentuate her breasts and the indent of her waist, a single thin strap tied from the valley of her breasts around her neck. Her blonde hair was parted on the left, and fell in smooth waves around her face to brush her bare shoulders. Crimson lipstick painted her lips, a sharp but appealing contrast to her ‘yellow and pink’ paleness.
A 1940’s-style microphone stood on a stand in front of her and she laid her hand over the top, curling her crimson-tipped fingers around it. Looking ahead, she met his gaze through time.
She cleared her throat and licked her lips. “I don’t know why I can’t do this in front of you, but I want to do this because you asked.”
There were only a few couples on parquet dance floor, and as the band played a slow dance song, the Doctor held Rose’s hand above her head and turned her slowly before circling her waist with his arm and pulling her close. He pressed the hand he held to his chest, covering it with his own as they swayed.
“You’re better at this than you used to be,” she said with a small smirk.
“I’m better at a lost of things than I used to be.”
Rose groaned. “You wish.”
The music slowed, and the Doctor pressed his hand into the small of her back to bring her flush against him and when she settled into his hold, he slid his hand down to just follow the curve of her bottom.
Rose tipped her head back, her cheeks slightly flushed, a sensual smile that begged to be kissed on her lips. “Overall, it’s been a rather uneventful evening,” she said. “No running. A serious lack of running.”
The Doctor looked out across the room, smiling before meeting her eyes. “It’s not always about running. Sometimes, it’s about enjoying. Speaking of which... I would very much enjoy hearing you sing.”
She didn’t say anything, just looking up at him, but the color in her cheeks deepened.
“On Gallifrey, we’re raised to have a deep love of music in all forms. But, my favorite music is the voice… it’s individual and imperfect, and yet the most beautiful thing in the world.” The music continued, but their dancing stopped so the Doctor could lay his hands on her cheeks. Rose slid her arms around his waist. “You must be so beautiful when you sing.”
He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t let go of the grip he hand on the console, leaning forward to watch the screen. Rose looked away from the recording device, curling a bit of hair behind her ear, and he silently begged her to look back so he could see her eyes. The same beautiful blossom of color that had tinted her cheeks at Shireen’s wedding darkened her cheeks in the recording.
“Oh, you beautiful girl,” he said softly to the empty console room.
She raised her head again, and curled both hands around the old microphone. Rose laughed softly and shook her head, rolling her eyes. “Faced robots and monsters and the end of the world…” She trailed off and seemed to gather herself, switching topics as she smoothed her hand over her dress. “Figured if I was going to do it, I’d really do it all out. Seems crazy now.”
He shook her head, even though he knew she’d never know.
“I’ll give this to you someday. I promise.”
Rose looked around, and seemed to find what she wanted on a small stand she had set up near the microphone. She raised a control device and pointed it to the ceiling, and the soft, brassy sound of a trumpet began to play a soulful, jazzy melody with a piano accompaniment.
“I hope you know why I chose this song,” she said over the music. “I mean it all, but there’s one line that…” She huffed, and he saw a sheen of moisture in her eyes. “It’s for you.”
As the trumpet and bras played with the piano, Rose closed her eyes with her head tilted to the side as she listened.
Then she began to sing.
And the Doctor watched through the burn of tears.
“I’ve been so many places in my life and time.” The piano slid through her singing with ease, and she whispered into the microphone “Because of you, Doctor.” Her body swayed softly, and she opened her eyes again - looking right at him. “I’ve sung a lot of songs, I’ve made some bad, bad rhymes. I’ve acted out my life in stages with ten thousand people watching… But, we’re alone now. And I’m singing this song for you.”
Without taking his eyes from the monitor, the Doctor reached out and flipped a switch on the console, and in a burst of sound, the music reverberated around him through the TARDIS harmonics - surrounding him, thrumming through him… filling him.
“I know your image of me is what I hope to be. I’ve treated you unkindly, but Doctor, can’t you see? There’s no one more important to me! So, Doctor, can’t you please see through me? Because we’re alone now and I’m singing this song for you.
Her singing voice was the most powerful, most soul-inspiring sound he had ever heard. Not even the Singing Towers on Darillium could come close, and he had once said they were the most beautiful sound in all the universe.
“You taught me precious secrets, the truth - withholding nothing. You came out front when I was hiding. But now I’m so much better, so if my words don’t come together, listen to the melody because my love is there in hiding.”
A trumpet overtook the music, and as it played a worbling rift, Rose stepped back from the microphone with one hand still resting on it, and looked down as she turned partially away. He saw more of her frame, and the way the dress flowed from her hips into a shimmering cascade of sequins and silk. Her hair fell forward across her cheek, and he couldn’t stop himself from laying his fingertip on the monitor screen, his hand trembling as she curled the bit behind her ear. The trumpet eased away, and she came back to the microphone, curling her lips between her teeth before looking at him again.
“Listen,” she said softly before singing again.
“I love you in a place where there’s no space and time.” She tipped her head back so her voice filled the console room, her arms spread out from her body. The reverberation skimmed over him, and the Doctor choked on the lump caught in his throat. “I love you for my life. You are a friend of mine.
“And when my life is over… Remember, remember, remember when we were together. When we were alone, and I was singing this song for you. Yes, when my life is over, and you remember when we were together… please remember when we were alone and I was singing this song for you.”
She repeated the words, letting her voice drop to a low, huskiness that tingled on his skin. The music died away, and her eyes closed until the notes finished. Finally, with his chest aching, the Doctor blinked against the hot tears.
Rose opened her eyes again, and a tear ran down her cheek. “I can’t seem to say it otherwise, Doctor. So, maybe when you hear this… you’ll know.” Then she shook her head, snatching up the remote where she had returned it. “I’m nutters. I’m going to erase this just as soon as I figure out how.”
With that, she pointed the remote to the camera and jabbed at it several times before the screen went black.
His body shook, and he gripped the console to stay on his feet. The Doctor dropped his head, resting his brow against the monitor as he sucked in sharp breaths. It hurt, oh, how it hurt to see her face and hear her voice. But, it was a pain he wanted because he’d rather have it than have nothing.
So sorry.
“No, no… “ he managed to choke out. “Don’t be sorry. It’s okay.”
“Who was that singin’?” he heard from behind him as Martha jogged into the console room. “It was echoing through the entire TARDIS.”
He couldn’t speak yet, his hands aching from the grip he held on the console edge. The Doctor shifted just enough to give Martha his back, begging for the few precious moments he needed to reign it all in.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I didn’t realize I had engaged the harmonics throughout the ship.” He was proud of the strength in his voice, how it only wavered slightly and only sounded slightly worn.
“No, it’s okay. It was beautiful.”
He finally straightened, releasing the console to run his hand over his face and wipe away any trace of the tide of emotion that he hadn’t been able to hold back. “I’m glad you liked it.”
“So, who was it?”
“Rose,” he said with more force than he intended, and immediately swallowed. He pushed his hands into his pockets and stepped back from the console and the now-black screen. He could almost still hear the echo of trumpets and piano and Rose’s powerful voice. “It was Rose.”
Before Martha could ask any more questions, and before he lost the tight rein of control he’s maintained for so many, many months, the Doctor turned on the balls of his feet and left the console room. He stumbled into their bedroom - a room he had only entered but hadn’t slept in since he lost her. The bed was far too big and far too empty. The Doctor nearly collapsed before he reached the foot of the bed, and sank heavily onto the mattress, holding his head in his hands.
His ship knew what he needed, even though she had hidden the recording from him to protect him from the pain. Now that he felt it - now that he’d heard the song - he wanted more. Within moments, the strain of trumpets and piano filled the room. This time, it was for him only.
He closed his eyes and listened.
“I love you in a place where there’s no space and time. I love you for my life. You are a friend of mine.
“And when my life is over… Remember, remember, remember when we were together. When we were alone, and I was singing this song for you. Yes, when my life is over, and you remember when we were together… please remember when we were alone and I was singing this song for you.”