(no subject)
Title: Broken (7/?)
Spoilers: Post Age of Steel
Pairing: Ten/Rose
Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Summary: Perhaps the universe gave the Doctor a clue in time for him to make use of it.
Disclaimer: Not mine, unfortunately. I just like to play in the BBC’s sandbox. It’s a lovely sandbox.
A/N: Hopefully this chapter will be a welcome relief from the heavy angst and slight bizarre-ness of the last chapter. Un-beta’d because I have issues with delayed gratification.
Chapter 1: Revealing Goodbyes
Chapter 2: Disapprovals
Chapter 3: What Dreams May Come
Chapter 4: Back in the Saddle Again
Chapter 5: Epiphanies
Chapter 6: She Sings
Awakenings
A strange clicking noise pushed against his consciousness and he frowned and twitched. He rarely slept so deeply, but even a Time Lord eventually suffered the effects of running his body into the ground. Lack of sleep, lack of food, glut of stress… those things added up even for him. Just took a bit longer.
The clicking noise got louder. Or perhaps he was just more awake. Or… what was that? Was the TARDIS moving? Everything was shaking. And that bloody clicking just went on and on…
“D-d-doctor?” a soft voice rasped, interspersed with more of the clicking. He was going to have to do something about that before it drove him utterly mad. “Rose, whatever’s making that noise, turn it off,” he mumbled a split second before his head shot up, his eyes popping wide open.
“Rose? Rose!” he gasped, tripping as he tried to stand, forgetting that his feet were propped on the end of the bed. She was awake, looking at him, turning blue, shaking… it was lovely.
Wait. No. Back up. Blue and shaking was bad. But it also meant she wasn’t burning alive in her own body. He’d soaked Rose and her entire bed in an ice solution hours earlier, a last ditch attempt to bring the fever down. Had it somehow worked? He shook the fog of sleep from his brain and knelt down next to her, a position he’d gotten used to.
“Rose? How do you feel? Are you hurting?” he asked urgently, searching her eyes for that spark that was uniquely her own. The rare survivors of the fever never made it without some catastrophic impairment of the brain. That’s what the court doctor had been trying to tell him but he hadn’t wanted to hear.
“C-c-c-cold,” she managed though chattering teeth, her entire body shaking. “So c-c-cold. Wha-wha’s w-w-wrong with the T-T-TARDIS?”
He couldn’t help it. Grinning from ear to ear, he whooped aloud, jumping to his feet and feeling adrenalin pulse through his system. She was alive and she was still his Rose. He knew it. Could feel it in ever fiber of his being.
“Nothing’s wrong with the TARDIS, of course! Something’s wrong with you, Rose. Caught a bit of a bug,” he grinned. Understatement of the year, but now he could smile at it.
Rose frowned at him, confused. It was to be expected of course. She’d been out of it for… he paused and thought about it and gaped. Ten days. Ten days. It was amazing. Months could have passed for all he’d known, which was saying something.
“A b-b-bug?” Rose gasped, shivering even harder. “But w-w-why ‘m I w-w-wet? Feels l-l-like I’ve been s-soakin’ in ice.”
“Yes, well that’s because you are,” he grinned, just thrilled to hear her speak. “Wait. We should fix that. You need to be warm now, not cold. Right.” He glanced around, trying to think of the best way to get her warm and quickly.
“Shower.” Without thinking, he leaned down and scooped her into his arms, freezing when she gasped. “What? Did I hurt you? Is there pain?” he asked, looking concerned and searching her face for the answers.
She shook her head and attempted a tremulous smile. “N-no. Just s-s-surprised.”
“Ah well, surprise I can deal with.” He winked at her and made for her bathroom, sparing one hand to twirl the taps into place then carrying her into the stall, letting the warm water soak them both. Little by little he turned up the temperature until the bathroom was full of steam and Rose’s trembling began to fade away.
She clung to him weakly, her face pressed against the side of his neck and her trust complete. Funny how that sort of trust made him feel like he could leap tall buildings in a single bound. He grinned. This regeneration certainly had a penchant for human entertainment. First The Lion King, then the Muppet Movie and now Superman. Odd that.
Trying not to snicker at himself, knowing he was giddy with relief, he turned off the taps and stepped out of the shower. She started to shiver again almost immediately. “Ah yes, wet clothes. That’s not going to work, now is it?” he said thoughtfully.
“We’ll just get you on your feet, you can get undressed…” he started then stopped as he attempted to put her on legs that weren’t quite ready to hold her up yet.
“Sorry,” Rose murmured, looking concerned and embarrassed and more than a little dazed. He shook his head and on impulse, kissed her forehead. “Don’t apologize. You’ve been sick for a while. It’s to be expected.”
The smile on her face nearly brought him to his knees. He tended to think on such grandiose levels; the big picture. But for Rose, something so simple and affectionate brought out a smile that had enough wattage to shame the sun. It was a thing of beauty. He grinned back at her rather besottedly until her shivering drew his attention again.
“Right. Cold and wet. No good. Warm, dry, in bed, cup of tea and sleep. In that order.” There was no help for it, really. He was the only one there to help and she was much too weak to take care of herself. For a moment he wished Jack were there to help then immediately dismissed the notion. He realized he wasn’t too keen on the idea of Jack seeing Rose naked, even if he was playing nursemaid. Propping her on the counter, he made quick work of her clothes, stripping her down the skin and wrapping her in a thick fluffy towel before she could do more than squeak in embarrassment.
Lifting her again, he noticed her cheeks were flushed and for one terrifying moment he thought the fever had returned. But then she buried her face against his neck and he understood that she was mortified that he’d undressed her. He grinned.
“Rose, it’s alright. Honestly. I’m a doctor. Believe me, I’ve seen hundred of naked bodies. Human, male, female, alien, genders you couldn’t even imagine. I didn’t think a thing of seeing yours…” he trailed off, wondering if maybe that wasn’t exactly the way to go about it well.
“Not that you aren’t lovely. You are. I wasn’t looking, though. I just mean-,”. He stopped and wondered if both feet would fit in his mouth. And that’s when he felt her shoulders shaking, this time with mirth as she giggled against the side of his neck. Well that was a relief. Not offended and not convinced he was some pervert that enjoyed taking the clothes off sick young women. One hurdle overcome.
He walked out to the bedroom and paused. “Now, to get you in bed…” he mused, noting hers wouldn’t do since it was soaked through. Her shoulders shook harder. “What? What did I say… Oh. Well, I…” he sighed and rolled his eyes as Rose laughed, but his own grin grew quickly. He had rather stepped in it, hadn’t he? And beyond it all, his Rose was alive, awake and best of all, laughing.
“Behave yourself,” he chuckled lightly, holding her more tightly against his chest as he stepped out into the hall, hoping the TARDIS would take care of what he needed. And she had. There was a doorway just next to Rose’s that hadn’t been there before. He just managed the knob without dropping Rose, then stood and gaped at the room for a long moment. It was his room. His room which was usually located quite a distance from Rose’s. Not really on purpose. Much.
But still… He threw a look down the hallway in the direction of the console room, contemplating the TARDIS’ reasoning when Rose started to shiver again. “Right. Warm, dry bed coming up.” He resolutely stepped inside and carried her to the bed, flicking back the covers and kneeling on the side to place her in the middle, towel and all. A second later he pulled away and turned his back, trying to give her a moment of privacy to get settled. He heard the soft sounds of her moving around followed by a frustrated sigh.
“Doctor, could you get me a shirt or something?” Rose asked, her voice clearly marked by a thread of exhaustion. He frowned for a moment, but given all her body had been through-although he hadn’t a clue as to how she’d overcome the fever-it was rather startling she’d been awake as long as she had. “Oh, yes,” he replied hurriedly, going to the large Ulatkspanian piece that served as his wardrobe. Without thinking, he pulled something out and turned to hand it to her only to nearly trip over his own feet at the sight that met him.
Rose, sitting in the middle of his bed, a sheet held to her chest and otherwise as bare as the day she was born. He felt his mouth go dry as he gaped at her. For a split second he forgot she’d only just returned from the brink of death and wondered if he was blessed or cursed by the vision in front of him. Wordlessly he handed her the shirt and turned, squeezing his eyes closed and trying to shut off the part of his brain that wanted to indulge in all manner of prurient fantasies no matter how inappropriate at that moment. Later… well, time would have to tell.
Another soft sigh and the sound of shifting had him cautiously glancing back over his shoulder. It was much, much worse than he could have imagined. Why hadn’t he dashed over to Rose’s room and gotten her something of her own? Even pale and shaking and weak she looked too provocative by half draped in his shirt. It was a dusty blue that suited her too well, and the fact that she’d only had the energy to button two buttons at mid-chest--barely enough to provide some modesty--was something he filed away to think on later. For the moment he had all he could handle, fighting down the primal urge that seemed intent on blurring rational thought.
“Tea!” he blurted, watching Rose’s eyes go wide for a moment as he startled her. “Almost forgot the tea. Certainly can’t forget the tea. That’s part of the plan, you see,” he babbled, making for the door. Now that he was sure she wasn’t going to… slip away if he left for a minutes, sanity and logic demanded a bit of space.
“Right. Back in a tick,” he declared with a very quick grin over his shoulder that wasn’t quite quick enough. It was obvious Rose was barely listening to him. She’d already lain back on the pillows, but seeing her curled up in his bed just did things to him he wasn’t prepared for.
She smiled at him sleepily, blissfully unaware of the battle he was fighting and that got him out the door more than anything. In the hallway he leaned weakly against the wall and exhaled heavily. Was this what surrendering to what was between them meant? The need to claim her on such an elemental level? With a sigh, he realized it actually made sense. Even kept platonic, he and Rose had an incredibly intimate relationship. So the proverbial next step… well.
No matter what his desperate realizations had been in the darkest hours of Rose hovering between life and death, it wasn’t the time or the place to do more than care for her as his best friend. Walking down the hall he ran a hand through his hair and focused on compartmentalizing all he was thinking and feeling. Normally that wasn’t a chore. It was how he kept up with all the highs and lows of his life. But over the last week, emotions had run rampant and were loath to be reigned in once more.
The ritual of making tea helped and when he returned to Rose several minutes later, he felt much more equipped to deal with her on a normal level, not battered by wants and desires kept leashed too long. She was dozing, but her lashes fluttered as he set the tray down, telling him she wasn’t deeply asleep.
“Ah, look at you. Still trying to skip steps when I’ve told you what the plan is. You humans,” he chided lightly, smiling at her affectionately as she opened her eyes with effort.
“So tired,” she murmured, making a weak attempt to prop herself up and utterly failing. “I think I got more than a bug, Doctor. Maybe the whole swarm. S’what it feels like, at least.”
Sitting on the side of the bed, he blanked his mind to any ‘extraneous’ thoughts and gently helped her to sit up before offering the cup of tea. “Could be. Still, you’re alright now,” he beamed, reaching out to steady her shaking hands as she lifted the cup to her lips. “And that’s all that matters.”
He urged several more sips on her before she shook her head, exhausted by the process and refusing any more. “Thank you,” she sighed, sliding down deeper into the mattress as her eyes drifted closed.
“For what?” he asked, bemused as he put the cup on the table and watched her struggle with the blanket for a moment before he reached over to help.
“For stayin’,” Rose replied, her words barely intelligible. “Was so scared an’ everythin’ hurt…” Her voice trailed off for a moment and he thought she was asleep when she continued. “An’ you made her sing to me, then everythin’ was better. So much better…”
He stared. “What do you mean, ‘I made her sing to you’? Who was singing to you? Rose?” But it was no good. This time she was deeply asleep, her mind shutting him out as it sought healing in rest. As he sat there though, a memory hit him like a punch to the gut.
“It’s like there was this singin’…”
“That’s right. I sang a song and the Daleks ran away.”
But he hadn’t sung the song. The TARDIS, time vortex had been the one singing to her then. And now she’d heard singing while in the throws of a fever that should have killed her. It could easily be chalked up as a hallucination, but he knew it wasn’t. It wasn’t the first time that something that should have killed her didn’t. A cold chill skittered down his spine. The TARDIS had had something to do with Rose’s miraculous recovery. There was no doubt in his mind. But for the TARDIS to affect the situation, there had to still be some bond between she and Rose. That’s what terrified him. He thought he’d pulled every last grain of the vortex from Rose on the Game Station. What did it mean if he hadn’t?
Hours later he returned, weary and more than a bit stunned by the turn of events. Rose had slept on, something he was confident of thanks to a few redirected sensors that allowed him to keep an eye and an ear on her while he researched and worked. Well, worked as in trying to get a straight answer out of the TARDIS--something that never really worked out-and figuring out what brought about Rose’s miraculous recovery.
He might never know fully, but from Rose’s tests and the TARDIS’ enigmatic implications, a tiny bit of jiggery-pokery had been done to Rose’s genetic code, giving her body just enough of a boost to fight off the contagion. In fact, her DNA bore a nearly identical resemblance to the most advanced human as far as disease fighting capability. And it was far, far from what any civilization he knew of could accomplish, especially when said body was in the midst of a catastrophic attack.
The TARDIS hadn’t really shocked him in a very long time, but he was positively staggered now. There was still some bond between Rose and his ship, thin as the finest filament, but very much there. He didn’t understand it, couldn’t explain it and had no idea what it meant for the future. But for now, Rose was alive and on the mend and he simply wanted to rest.
Standing there at the side of the bed, he watched her sleep, her face smooth and peaceful, thick lashes fanning over her faintly rosy cheeks and he thought there was nothing more beautiful in the entire universe. She drew him in like a lodestone.
And he was going to give in. He knew it was foolish even as he toed off his shoes and tugged the tails of his shirt from his trousers, but he craved the comfort and was feeling just rebellious enough to take it. A moment later he was settling down on top of the blankets, gently pulling Rose into his arms. She was warm and alive and when she turned in her sleep to put her head on his chest and snuggle against him, he remembered what it was like to have a measure of peace.
In the meantime, he had forgotten what happened the last time he fell asleep in Rose Tyler’s bed.
tbc
Spoilers: Post Age of Steel
Pairing: Ten/Rose
Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Summary: Perhaps the universe gave the Doctor a clue in time for him to make use of it.
Disclaimer: Not mine, unfortunately. I just like to play in the BBC’s sandbox. It’s a lovely sandbox.
A/N: Hopefully this chapter will be a welcome relief from the heavy angst and slight bizarre-ness of the last chapter. Un-beta’d because I have issues with delayed gratification.
Chapter 1: Revealing Goodbyes
Chapter 2: Disapprovals
Chapter 3: What Dreams May Come
Chapter 4: Back in the Saddle Again
Chapter 5: Epiphanies
Chapter 6: She Sings
Awakenings
A strange clicking noise pushed against his consciousness and he frowned and twitched. He rarely slept so deeply, but even a Time Lord eventually suffered the effects of running his body into the ground. Lack of sleep, lack of food, glut of stress… those things added up even for him. Just took a bit longer.
The clicking noise got louder. Or perhaps he was just more awake. Or… what was that? Was the TARDIS moving? Everything was shaking. And that bloody clicking just went on and on…
“D-d-doctor?” a soft voice rasped, interspersed with more of the clicking. He was going to have to do something about that before it drove him utterly mad. “Rose, whatever’s making that noise, turn it off,” he mumbled a split second before his head shot up, his eyes popping wide open.
“Rose? Rose!” he gasped, tripping as he tried to stand, forgetting that his feet were propped on the end of the bed. She was awake, looking at him, turning blue, shaking… it was lovely.
Wait. No. Back up. Blue and shaking was bad. But it also meant she wasn’t burning alive in her own body. He’d soaked Rose and her entire bed in an ice solution hours earlier, a last ditch attempt to bring the fever down. Had it somehow worked? He shook the fog of sleep from his brain and knelt down next to her, a position he’d gotten used to.
“Rose? How do you feel? Are you hurting?” he asked urgently, searching her eyes for that spark that was uniquely her own. The rare survivors of the fever never made it without some catastrophic impairment of the brain. That’s what the court doctor had been trying to tell him but he hadn’t wanted to hear.
“C-c-c-cold,” she managed though chattering teeth, her entire body shaking. “So c-c-cold. Wha-wha’s w-w-wrong with the T-T-TARDIS?”
He couldn’t help it. Grinning from ear to ear, he whooped aloud, jumping to his feet and feeling adrenalin pulse through his system. She was alive and she was still his Rose. He knew it. Could feel it in ever fiber of his being.
“Nothing’s wrong with the TARDIS, of course! Something’s wrong with you, Rose. Caught a bit of a bug,” he grinned. Understatement of the year, but now he could smile at it.
Rose frowned at him, confused. It was to be expected of course. She’d been out of it for… he paused and thought about it and gaped. Ten days. Ten days. It was amazing. Months could have passed for all he’d known, which was saying something.
“A b-b-bug?” Rose gasped, shivering even harder. “But w-w-why ‘m I w-w-wet? Feels l-l-like I’ve been s-soakin’ in ice.”
“Yes, well that’s because you are,” he grinned, just thrilled to hear her speak. “Wait. We should fix that. You need to be warm now, not cold. Right.” He glanced around, trying to think of the best way to get her warm and quickly.
“Shower.” Without thinking, he leaned down and scooped her into his arms, freezing when she gasped. “What? Did I hurt you? Is there pain?” he asked, looking concerned and searching her face for the answers.
She shook her head and attempted a tremulous smile. “N-no. Just s-s-surprised.”
“Ah well, surprise I can deal with.” He winked at her and made for her bathroom, sparing one hand to twirl the taps into place then carrying her into the stall, letting the warm water soak them both. Little by little he turned up the temperature until the bathroom was full of steam and Rose’s trembling began to fade away.
She clung to him weakly, her face pressed against the side of his neck and her trust complete. Funny how that sort of trust made him feel like he could leap tall buildings in a single bound. He grinned. This regeneration certainly had a penchant for human entertainment. First The Lion King, then the Muppet Movie and now Superman. Odd that.
Trying not to snicker at himself, knowing he was giddy with relief, he turned off the taps and stepped out of the shower. She started to shiver again almost immediately. “Ah yes, wet clothes. That’s not going to work, now is it?” he said thoughtfully.
“We’ll just get you on your feet, you can get undressed…” he started then stopped as he attempted to put her on legs that weren’t quite ready to hold her up yet.
“Sorry,” Rose murmured, looking concerned and embarrassed and more than a little dazed. He shook his head and on impulse, kissed her forehead. “Don’t apologize. You’ve been sick for a while. It’s to be expected.”
The smile on her face nearly brought him to his knees. He tended to think on such grandiose levels; the big picture. But for Rose, something so simple and affectionate brought out a smile that had enough wattage to shame the sun. It was a thing of beauty. He grinned back at her rather besottedly until her shivering drew his attention again.
“Right. Cold and wet. No good. Warm, dry, in bed, cup of tea and sleep. In that order.” There was no help for it, really. He was the only one there to help and she was much too weak to take care of herself. For a moment he wished Jack were there to help then immediately dismissed the notion. He realized he wasn’t too keen on the idea of Jack seeing Rose naked, even if he was playing nursemaid. Propping her on the counter, he made quick work of her clothes, stripping her down the skin and wrapping her in a thick fluffy towel before she could do more than squeak in embarrassment.
Lifting her again, he noticed her cheeks were flushed and for one terrifying moment he thought the fever had returned. But then she buried her face against his neck and he understood that she was mortified that he’d undressed her. He grinned.
“Rose, it’s alright. Honestly. I’m a doctor. Believe me, I’ve seen hundred of naked bodies. Human, male, female, alien, genders you couldn’t even imagine. I didn’t think a thing of seeing yours…” he trailed off, wondering if maybe that wasn’t exactly the way to go about it well.
“Not that you aren’t lovely. You are. I wasn’t looking, though. I just mean-,”. He stopped and wondered if both feet would fit in his mouth. And that’s when he felt her shoulders shaking, this time with mirth as she giggled against the side of his neck. Well that was a relief. Not offended and not convinced he was some pervert that enjoyed taking the clothes off sick young women. One hurdle overcome.
He walked out to the bedroom and paused. “Now, to get you in bed…” he mused, noting hers wouldn’t do since it was soaked through. Her shoulders shook harder. “What? What did I say… Oh. Well, I…” he sighed and rolled his eyes as Rose laughed, but his own grin grew quickly. He had rather stepped in it, hadn’t he? And beyond it all, his Rose was alive, awake and best of all, laughing.
“Behave yourself,” he chuckled lightly, holding her more tightly against his chest as he stepped out into the hall, hoping the TARDIS would take care of what he needed. And she had. There was a doorway just next to Rose’s that hadn’t been there before. He just managed the knob without dropping Rose, then stood and gaped at the room for a long moment. It was his room. His room which was usually located quite a distance from Rose’s. Not really on purpose. Much.
But still… He threw a look down the hallway in the direction of the console room, contemplating the TARDIS’ reasoning when Rose started to shiver again. “Right. Warm, dry bed coming up.” He resolutely stepped inside and carried her to the bed, flicking back the covers and kneeling on the side to place her in the middle, towel and all. A second later he pulled away and turned his back, trying to give her a moment of privacy to get settled. He heard the soft sounds of her moving around followed by a frustrated sigh.
“Doctor, could you get me a shirt or something?” Rose asked, her voice clearly marked by a thread of exhaustion. He frowned for a moment, but given all her body had been through-although he hadn’t a clue as to how she’d overcome the fever-it was rather startling she’d been awake as long as she had. “Oh, yes,” he replied hurriedly, going to the large Ulatkspanian piece that served as his wardrobe. Without thinking, he pulled something out and turned to hand it to her only to nearly trip over his own feet at the sight that met him.
Rose, sitting in the middle of his bed, a sheet held to her chest and otherwise as bare as the day she was born. He felt his mouth go dry as he gaped at her. For a split second he forgot she’d only just returned from the brink of death and wondered if he was blessed or cursed by the vision in front of him. Wordlessly he handed her the shirt and turned, squeezing his eyes closed and trying to shut off the part of his brain that wanted to indulge in all manner of prurient fantasies no matter how inappropriate at that moment. Later… well, time would have to tell.
Another soft sigh and the sound of shifting had him cautiously glancing back over his shoulder. It was much, much worse than he could have imagined. Why hadn’t he dashed over to Rose’s room and gotten her something of her own? Even pale and shaking and weak she looked too provocative by half draped in his shirt. It was a dusty blue that suited her too well, and the fact that she’d only had the energy to button two buttons at mid-chest--barely enough to provide some modesty--was something he filed away to think on later. For the moment he had all he could handle, fighting down the primal urge that seemed intent on blurring rational thought.
“Tea!” he blurted, watching Rose’s eyes go wide for a moment as he startled her. “Almost forgot the tea. Certainly can’t forget the tea. That’s part of the plan, you see,” he babbled, making for the door. Now that he was sure she wasn’t going to… slip away if he left for a minutes, sanity and logic demanded a bit of space.
“Right. Back in a tick,” he declared with a very quick grin over his shoulder that wasn’t quite quick enough. It was obvious Rose was barely listening to him. She’d already lain back on the pillows, but seeing her curled up in his bed just did things to him he wasn’t prepared for.
She smiled at him sleepily, blissfully unaware of the battle he was fighting and that got him out the door more than anything. In the hallway he leaned weakly against the wall and exhaled heavily. Was this what surrendering to what was between them meant? The need to claim her on such an elemental level? With a sigh, he realized it actually made sense. Even kept platonic, he and Rose had an incredibly intimate relationship. So the proverbial next step… well.
No matter what his desperate realizations had been in the darkest hours of Rose hovering between life and death, it wasn’t the time or the place to do more than care for her as his best friend. Walking down the hall he ran a hand through his hair and focused on compartmentalizing all he was thinking and feeling. Normally that wasn’t a chore. It was how he kept up with all the highs and lows of his life. But over the last week, emotions had run rampant and were loath to be reigned in once more.
The ritual of making tea helped and when he returned to Rose several minutes later, he felt much more equipped to deal with her on a normal level, not battered by wants and desires kept leashed too long. She was dozing, but her lashes fluttered as he set the tray down, telling him she wasn’t deeply asleep.
“Ah, look at you. Still trying to skip steps when I’ve told you what the plan is. You humans,” he chided lightly, smiling at her affectionately as she opened her eyes with effort.
“So tired,” she murmured, making a weak attempt to prop herself up and utterly failing. “I think I got more than a bug, Doctor. Maybe the whole swarm. S’what it feels like, at least.”
Sitting on the side of the bed, he blanked his mind to any ‘extraneous’ thoughts and gently helped her to sit up before offering the cup of tea. “Could be. Still, you’re alright now,” he beamed, reaching out to steady her shaking hands as she lifted the cup to her lips. “And that’s all that matters.”
He urged several more sips on her before she shook her head, exhausted by the process and refusing any more. “Thank you,” she sighed, sliding down deeper into the mattress as her eyes drifted closed.
“For what?” he asked, bemused as he put the cup on the table and watched her struggle with the blanket for a moment before he reached over to help.
“For stayin’,” Rose replied, her words barely intelligible. “Was so scared an’ everythin’ hurt…” Her voice trailed off for a moment and he thought she was asleep when she continued. “An’ you made her sing to me, then everythin’ was better. So much better…”
He stared. “What do you mean, ‘I made her sing to you’? Who was singing to you? Rose?” But it was no good. This time she was deeply asleep, her mind shutting him out as it sought healing in rest. As he sat there though, a memory hit him like a punch to the gut.
“It’s like there was this singin’…”
“That’s right. I sang a song and the Daleks ran away.”
But he hadn’t sung the song. The TARDIS, time vortex had been the one singing to her then. And now she’d heard singing while in the throws of a fever that should have killed her. It could easily be chalked up as a hallucination, but he knew it wasn’t. It wasn’t the first time that something that should have killed her didn’t. A cold chill skittered down his spine. The TARDIS had had something to do with Rose’s miraculous recovery. There was no doubt in his mind. But for the TARDIS to affect the situation, there had to still be some bond between she and Rose. That’s what terrified him. He thought he’d pulled every last grain of the vortex from Rose on the Game Station. What did it mean if he hadn’t?
Hours later he returned, weary and more than a bit stunned by the turn of events. Rose had slept on, something he was confident of thanks to a few redirected sensors that allowed him to keep an eye and an ear on her while he researched and worked. Well, worked as in trying to get a straight answer out of the TARDIS--something that never really worked out-and figuring out what brought about Rose’s miraculous recovery.
He might never know fully, but from Rose’s tests and the TARDIS’ enigmatic implications, a tiny bit of jiggery-pokery had been done to Rose’s genetic code, giving her body just enough of a boost to fight off the contagion. In fact, her DNA bore a nearly identical resemblance to the most advanced human as far as disease fighting capability. And it was far, far from what any civilization he knew of could accomplish, especially when said body was in the midst of a catastrophic attack.
The TARDIS hadn’t really shocked him in a very long time, but he was positively staggered now. There was still some bond between Rose and his ship, thin as the finest filament, but very much there. He didn’t understand it, couldn’t explain it and had no idea what it meant for the future. But for now, Rose was alive and on the mend and he simply wanted to rest.
Standing there at the side of the bed, he watched her sleep, her face smooth and peaceful, thick lashes fanning over her faintly rosy cheeks and he thought there was nothing more beautiful in the entire universe. She drew him in like a lodestone.
And he was going to give in. He knew it was foolish even as he toed off his shoes and tugged the tails of his shirt from his trousers, but he craved the comfort and was feeling just rebellious enough to take it. A moment later he was settling down on top of the blankets, gently pulling Rose into his arms. She was warm and alive and when she turned in her sleep to put her head on his chest and snuggle against him, he remembered what it was like to have a measure of peace.
In the meantime, he had forgotten what happened the last time he fell asleep in Rose Tyler’s bed.
tbc