Rough Around the Edges
Title: Rough Around the Edges
Characters/Pairings: Cloen/Rose; Slight appearance by Jackie; Mentions Ten and Donna
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Romance/Introspection/Angst
Warnings/Spoilers: Post-Journey's End. Non-explicit sex.
Words: 2,044
Status: Completed
Summary: One-shot. Growing old is a part of being human; no one knows that better than the Doctor.
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of Doctor Who or I'm Yours sung by The Script.
Author's Note: Welcome to my first ever Cloen/Rose fic! I never thought I’d get here, but the song fits them perfectly. Dedicated to redcirce as a late birthday present!
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"It's just a part of being human," she said softly, tracing the few wrinkles on his otherwise smooth face when he's not smiling. Otherwise she'd have multiple laughter lines to caress; he knew she was proud that most of them had been put there by her.
"I know," he whispered back, holding still. When he first noticed the few new wrinkles, he'd thrown a hissy fit, but what did he expect after ten years? She understood though. While he'd regenerated more times than other Time Lords had at his age, he'd still spend at least a few decades carrying the same face - nothing really changed. It was worth it though. It was so worth it as long as he was with Rose.
Everywhere Rose went, she painted the sky. It didn't matter when they were or where they were, whether it was centuries in the past, millennia ahead, on the blue little planet of Sol 3, or an alien world light-years away. Even as they traveled the world in this dimension, she brightened every place they went. Where as a full Time Lord he held himself at a distance as she interacted with those around them, slightly (or not-so-slightly) overcome by jealousy, he now allowed himself to bask in her warmth whole-heartedly. When she talked with people, her words, her very being, were a work of art.
He was the total opposite, careless with his words at times. Rude and not ginger, that was him. Somehow, she tolerated him. At first, he'd been afraid she'd leave him because he regenerated. He might have become a pretty boy, but it didn't stop him from being an alien. They were best friends and she loved him, but who said she wanted anything more?
He was especially hesitant as his Ninth self. He'd been attracted to the starlight in her eyes since the beginning, her quick wit pulling him in further. That had scared him. He tried pulling away several times, but in the end hadn't been able to help himself from asking her a second time. When he was around her, the pain faded into a barely-noticeable buzz. That's why he always tried to hold himself at a distance. What would she want with a ‘dirty old man’, as she'd accused Mr. Sneed, rightly so, of being?
There was little personal space between them from the start (alright, none whatsoever), but that didn't mean she wanted him. That's what he had to tell himself over and over again as time went on. She still had Mickey-the-Idiot-Who-Turned-Out-to-be-Not-So-Much-of-an-Idiot-in-the-End. After the day where everybody lived, though, there was no question. Still, he held himself back. He already enjoyed her company enough; he didn't deserve her affection at all.
It wasn't up to him, for her affection he received and she brought his walls down enough for him to show her affection in return. If he hadn't regenerated when he had, it would have been only a matter of time before he let her in completely. Her almost-death set him straight. He was dangerous and didn't deserve her. It didn't stop him from continuing to push their boundaries.
One time he came too close and had to do a stupid thing, like getting stuck in France for a while. He knew what she was feeling, had felt the same several times before as she picked up her pretty boys, but he thought this would bring the walls back up that were becoming nothing but ruins. After almost losing the TARDIS, he almost gave in (too many close calls for his liking). Losing the TARDIS had hurt, but it was nothing to the burning sensation he felt in his hearts when he lost her to Pete's World. He knew, no matter where or when he was, she'd always hold a place in his hearts. All three of them.
While he knew what his full Time Lord self was planning - he would have done the same after all, had it been him. Well, it was him, but…not. The point was, while he knew what he'd been planning, he didn't know what Rose's response would be. When he told her they could grow old, if she wanted, together, he saw something in her eyes that sparked hope in him, but it quickly dimmed as he saw her go after his other self.
He'd sworn to himself that, should some miracle occur and he had her back, he'd tell her the words. She deserved them. If his other self wasn't going to say them, he would. He did and it was fantastic. This time she kissed him; he was kissing her! It was just the Doctor and Rose, as it should be. After they watched the TARDIS go, they continued holding hands, both gripping the other firmly. It would take some time, but they'd pull through. They were the stuff of legend. He had Rose back and that was brilliant. Of course, karma was always a pain.
Jackie groaned. “Service here is horrible. I can’t get a hold of Pete. Rose?”
“Sorry mum, my mobile got fried between jumps.”
“Well no wonder you never picked up when I tried to call you last week! I had to march myself to Torchwood and wouldn’t leave until they told me where you were. Of course, when I heard you were looking for himself I wasn’t surprised.”
The Doctor continued to listen to her ramble - like he was one to talk - as she recounted how she bullied her way into getting a dimension canon to help her daughter save the universe. No one said no to a Tyler woman after all! While still talking, she continued trying to call her husband, but had no luck. He grumbled internally; he had the parts to build a new sonic screwdriver in the pockets of his blue suit, he didn’t have a chip like the one he’d first used to give Rose’s mobile a boost.
Finally, they ended up having to walk towards an inn nearby. He was hearing Jackie’s complaints of the place - they’d stayed there for a night…the last time - in amusement, when suddenly he keeled over. “Arg!” He clutched his head, feeling it burn, faintly hearing Donna’s pleas and Rose’s cries, before everything went dark.
They were unable to bring him around, so Rose and Jackie ended up having to half-carry, half-drag him to the inn. Thankfully it wasn’t too far off. Jackie helped her daughter bring the Doctor into the room she’d been given before leaving to get some rest herself. She’d call Pete using the landline tomorrow morning.
Rose was trying to hold herself together. It was a couple of long hours before he finally roused. She was ready to throw herself at him and cry, but he beat her to it. Suddenly, she had her arms full of a sobbing Time Lord. She recovered from her shock quickly and embraced him just as tightly, murmuring comfortingly. “Doctor, what’s wrong?” she asked, after he shuddered to a stop.
“Donna’s gone.”
“She’s dead?” Grief washed over her.
“Might as well be. I- he…” He pushed himself up, but didn’t let go of her. “Metacrisis is a dodgy process, just as dodgy as regeneration really and that’s basically what it was, an aborted one, but regeneration nonetheless. Some Time Lords wouldn’t survive the process and humans were never meant to go through that. He had to block her memories of us, all of them, since we met, or else she’d burn.”
She couldn’t imagine never remembering the Doctor and Donna was a magnificent person who didn’t deserve to live a half-life, but of course the Doctor would choose to save her. He didn’t need a higher body count and Donna had been a best friend to him, she could tell. He’d be alone now. She clutched her Doctor tighter and started shedding silent tears. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
He felt them on his neck and moved them to lie down, rubbing her back soothingly. He knew she was mourning the, for a time, most important woman in the universe and his other self as well. He also knew that even if the memories themselves were cut off from the rest of her, Donna would still manage to find something magnificent to do with her life, whether it was save the world a little at a time or fulfill her dream of getting married. His other self would mourn his losses, but would eventually move on. That’s what a creature with more than a millennium on him did, lest he let the darkness consume him completely. It would take a long time for him to get over this loss, however. Two hearts equaled twice the heartbreak.
The human body could take a lot, but the two were exhausted and soon succumbed to sleep; the two nestled into each other’s arms the whole night.
The Doctor woke up, shivering slightly. He started when he realized the bed was empty, but sighed in relief when he heard the shower going on. As the minutes ticked by, he grew anxious. He’d never broken down like that and he was afraid she’d think he was less of the man he proclaimed to be. His breath hitched as the girl- woman, of his hearts came out, wearing only a towel.
In an uncharacteristic display, Rose blushed. “Morning.”
He swallowed, his eyes running over her body. “Morning.”
The silence was heavy over them, something that neither could ever recall occurring.
“Sh-showers available.” She stated the obvious.
“Thanks.” He stumbled out of bed, feeling completely awkward around her for the first time in his lives, knowing he was about to take his first cold shower for a purpose. It’s not that he’d never found her attractive, but now he couldn’t control his reactions. His shower was quick, but he didn’t realize how quick until he stepped out.
Rose gasped as she took him in; he was only in his trousers, while she was in the process of slipping on her bra. Her eyes met his, his usual chocolate orbs now dark, and dropped her arms, letting the bra fall to the floor. They were even now.
He was never able to recall who moved first. All he knew was that they were suddenly in the middle of the room, lips crashing, tongues invading, hands roaming, and yanking trousers down, stumbling towards the bed all the meanwhile. He wanted to slow down, to be gentle with her, especially their first time, but something had been released and wouldn’t be reined in. He’d never been a placid man, but this was something else entirely.
Whatever it was, Rose didn’t seem to mind; even though her caresses had softened, she never complained of his rough groping, hard bites, and firm thrusts, instead encouraging him with moans and groans and whimpers, finally crying out his name in a way that left no doubts that she knew who she was with.
When they awoke again a couple of hours later, he withdrew from her as he noticed the bruises that matched his fingerprints and teeth marks that matched those in his mouth.
The blonde refused to let him go and laid over him, her still smooth fingers mapping his body, her lips tracing each invisible scar. His fingers ran through her hair and she encircled his wrist when she suddenly paused. Taking a closer look at his hand, she caressed his wrist, having discovered a jagged line that ran around the circumference of it. Looking into his eyes, she planted tiny kisses all around it, before bringing each finger into her mouth.
This time he was the one crying out her name.
He broke out of his thoughts when Rose's hands moved from caressing his face, to the oldest, most visible scar on his body and knew she was thinking of that night as well.
She kissed the bruise her mouth had left on his neck before taking over his own and he returned her kiss eagerly, flipping her to lie on her back.
He was a little rough around the edges, never quite fitting into the world of domestics (just ask Jackie), but he was hers. He didn't mind growing old, as long as they did it together.