i'm not the one in the wrong place
I'm not the one in the wrong place Eleven/Rose, Ten/Rose, PG
It had been an accident this time, honestly. She hadn't meant to wander off. The street was packed, people shoulder to shoulder, for a local celebration, something they did annually the Doctor had said. Her hand had been in his, gripping it so tightly she'd been losing circulation, but the flow of traffic had changed around them, her being tugged one way as he was pulled another, until finally she'd lost sight of his messy mop of hair above the people surrounding her. She was definitely not to blame here. It was the only thought comforting her as she pushed through the throng until she had some elbow room, some space to think.
After scanning the crowd for a few minutes, calling his name over and over, she realised her search was futile. Turning from the celebration in annoyance, she found her salvation in the form of a large blue box. "There you are!" she shouted happily, tugging the chain she wore her key on from inside her shirt. She failed to notice the small brunette leaning on the backside of the box, waiting for someone, as she inserted her key, desperate to be sheltered from the noise as she awaited the Doctor's return.
She walked inside, turning back toward the road to shut the door behind her, placing her palms flat on the wood, leaning against it with her head down. Her thoughts were flying through the Doctor's possible reactions: worry at being separated, anger at her for wandering off further than she needed, relief when he finally found her, safe and sound. But her contemplation was interrupted by an unfamiliar voice, "How'd you get in here? Did Clara leave the door open again? This isn't just a box, you know, this is a ship, you can't..."
She turned about, eyes wide, back pressed firmly against the door as if trying to shrink into the wood for some sort of protection. The man's voice had trailed off the moment she'd spun around, but she hadn't noticed, she was too concerned with other things. "How did I get in here? I live here! How did you get in here?" she shot back, voice steady. She was quite proud of how brave she'd been getting, though her current posture was most likely betraying how terrified she truly was. Becoming aware of it, and the fact that this man must be in strange territory, leaving her with the upper hand, she pushed off the door with her fingertips, springing toward the console. "You're lucky it's only me in here and not the Doctor, I'm far more lenient." she bluffed.
The man ran his hands through his hair. Who grooms themselves while being advanced upon? His hands traveled down to his bow tie, - an odd fashion choice, she thought, but it seemed to suit him - adjusting it as he stood a bit taller, straightening out from his position crouched over the controls. "I'm not the one in the wrong place." he said enigmatically, his voice sounding strangely of longing and despair. As he said this, she finally took in her surroundings. He was right, the bright coral of the TARDIS had been replaced by something that, in her opinion, looked like the inside of a night club. Her expression faltered as she spun slowly on the spot, drinking it all in. Was this what the TARDIS used to look like, decades before the Doctor had saved her, before she'd saved him? Was this what he looked like before they'd met? Was Sarah Jane out there in the crowd somewhere, waiting for him to join her, waiting for his hand to interlock with hers like Rose's did now?
This strange Doctor approached her slowly and she couldn't help but think how different he was from her Doctor. This one's emotions were all over his face, plain for anyone to see, sorrow, pain, she could almost feel an ache in him for something long gone, something he'd lost, and at the same time, a long forgotten happiness seemed to be returning, a slow smile spreading across his face, the shine in his eyes growing brighter. When he reached her, he gingerly reached out, enveloping her in a hug. While physically capable, she found herself unable to pull away and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, resting her chin in the crook of his neck as the realisation dawned on her. "You know me." she whispered, a sad tone creeping into her voice.
The Doctor didn't move, speaking into the hair on the top of her head, his lips pressed firmly against it. "Oh, Rose Tyler," he tested her name aloud in a mouth it'd never emerged from before. It ran through his brain daily, through his hearts, but it was too painful to share, she was his and his alone. "how could I ever forget?"
She finally broke the hug, her arms still stretched above her, the insides of her wrists resting in the crooks of his shoulders as she looked up at him. Her mouth opened and closed several times before she found the courage the ask - no, state - what she'd been too afraid to bring up until now. "You've left me." Her eyes filled with tears, but she held them back to the best of her ability. For all she knew, she'd lived to be ninety years old, the Doctor sitting at her bedside, holding her hand as she died from old age.
The Doctor's lips pressed together in a firm line as he avoided her gaze. He couldn't tell her exactly what happened - the pain of being torn apart, the aversion he still had to plain white walls, his seething hatred of beaches, of Norway, the times he cheated and went back to see her without ever interacting just to faintly hear her laugh from the next department over at Henrick's, the hours he spent locked away in her room, just curled up on her bed, looking at the trinkets she'd picked up in alien markets along their travels that she'd left scattered on her dresser, the sweater of hers that hung untouched in his closet - no, but he didn't have to lie. "I didn't leave you, you still have me."
He could tell from the look on her face that she heard the untruth in his voice, and he put his finger under her chin, lifting her face until she was looking at him once more. "Hey," He found himself echoing the past, words resurrected from years ago, "how long are you going to stay with me?" he asked his best impression of his old voice. It earned him a watery smile as she conjured up the answer from her own memory. "Forever."
_________________________________________________________
The Doctor and Rose wandered through the crowd toward the other end of the main street, hand in hand in silence, until they spotted a frantic looking man in pinstripes. The Doctor in the bow tie grinned widely, a genuine sort of amusement in his voice as he whispered into her hair. "Rose Tyler, I've been going mad without you. Rule number one." She smiled brightly up at him as she called out to the other Doctor.
"Rose Tyler!" he shouted, panic clear in his voice, though it seemed to be dissipating the more he spoke. "I've been going mad without you!" The laugh this earned from Rose didn't amuse him. "Rule number one: don't wander off. We've been-" he stopped short as he realised the man beside her had his hand in hers, clinging with an odd sort of desperation, his fingers digging into the back of her hand. The younger man frowned at her, leaning in to stage whisper. "Picked up another pretty boy, have you?"
The older of the two whispered softly to Rose, "He's jealous." before answering for her as she turned pink, reluctantly letting go of her hand, "Sorry, I found your girlfriend looking scared, she was lost. Didn't want to get split up in the mob over there, you know?"
Rose finally interjected, looking up at him with her eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "He's not my boyfriend." she insisted, though she wasn't sure why she felt the need to convince someone who knew better. As if she'd said it in a more flirtatious tone, her Doctor gripped her hand tightly, tugging her closer to his side, but the one in the bow tie, the man who knew their grim, but ultimately happy, future looked at Rose as he spoke, ignoring his younger self. "I know a couple in love when I see one." He paused, but cut her off as she opened her mouth to argue further. His beautifully stubborn Rose. "Keep holding hands, don't let go. Don't get lost again." He knew he couldn't change the past, but it applied nonetheless, at least for the moment. He took another moment to look at Rose, drink her in, memorise every detail, and then turned away.
As he walked off, he heard a conversation that only now made sense to him. "Where'd you end up?" he'd asked, trying to suppress his jealousy. He recalled thinking she'd ended up at some sort of gypsy's booth as she replied, a satisfied smile on her face as she pressed herself snugly into his side. "I had my future told."
It had been an accident this time, honestly. She hadn't meant to wander off. The street was packed, people shoulder to shoulder, for a local celebration, something they did annually the Doctor had said. Her hand had been in his, gripping it so tightly she'd been losing circulation, but the flow of traffic had changed around them, her being tugged one way as he was pulled another, until finally she'd lost sight of his messy mop of hair above the people surrounding her. She was definitely not to blame here. It was the only thought comforting her as she pushed through the throng until she had some elbow room, some space to think.
After scanning the crowd for a few minutes, calling his name over and over, she realised her search was futile. Turning from the celebration in annoyance, she found her salvation in the form of a large blue box. "There you are!" she shouted happily, tugging the chain she wore her key on from inside her shirt. She failed to notice the small brunette leaning on the backside of the box, waiting for someone, as she inserted her key, desperate to be sheltered from the noise as she awaited the Doctor's return.
She walked inside, turning back toward the road to shut the door behind her, placing her palms flat on the wood, leaning against it with her head down. Her thoughts were flying through the Doctor's possible reactions: worry at being separated, anger at her for wandering off further than she needed, relief when he finally found her, safe and sound. But her contemplation was interrupted by an unfamiliar voice, "How'd you get in here? Did Clara leave the door open again? This isn't just a box, you know, this is a ship, you can't..."
She turned about, eyes wide, back pressed firmly against the door as if trying to shrink into the wood for some sort of protection. The man's voice had trailed off the moment she'd spun around, but she hadn't noticed, she was too concerned with other things. "How did I get in here? I live here! How did you get in here?" she shot back, voice steady. She was quite proud of how brave she'd been getting, though her current posture was most likely betraying how terrified she truly was. Becoming aware of it, and the fact that this man must be in strange territory, leaving her with the upper hand, she pushed off the door with her fingertips, springing toward the console. "You're lucky it's only me in here and not the Doctor, I'm far more lenient." she bluffed.
The man ran his hands through his hair. Who grooms themselves while being advanced upon? His hands traveled down to his bow tie, - an odd fashion choice, she thought, but it seemed to suit him - adjusting it as he stood a bit taller, straightening out from his position crouched over the controls. "I'm not the one in the wrong place." he said enigmatically, his voice sounding strangely of longing and despair. As he said this, she finally took in her surroundings. He was right, the bright coral of the TARDIS had been replaced by something that, in her opinion, looked like the inside of a night club. Her expression faltered as she spun slowly on the spot, drinking it all in. Was this what the TARDIS used to look like, decades before the Doctor had saved her, before she'd saved him? Was this what he looked like before they'd met? Was Sarah Jane out there in the crowd somewhere, waiting for him to join her, waiting for his hand to interlock with hers like Rose's did now?
This strange Doctor approached her slowly and she couldn't help but think how different he was from her Doctor. This one's emotions were all over his face, plain for anyone to see, sorrow, pain, she could almost feel an ache in him for something long gone, something he'd lost, and at the same time, a long forgotten happiness seemed to be returning, a slow smile spreading across his face, the shine in his eyes growing brighter. When he reached her, he gingerly reached out, enveloping her in a hug. While physically capable, she found herself unable to pull away and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, resting her chin in the crook of his neck as the realisation dawned on her. "You know me." she whispered, a sad tone creeping into her voice.
The Doctor didn't move, speaking into the hair on the top of her head, his lips pressed firmly against it. "Oh, Rose Tyler," he tested her name aloud in a mouth it'd never emerged from before. It ran through his brain daily, through his hearts, but it was too painful to share, she was his and his alone. "how could I ever forget?"
She finally broke the hug, her arms still stretched above her, the insides of her wrists resting in the crooks of his shoulders as she looked up at him. Her mouth opened and closed several times before she found the courage the ask - no, state - what she'd been too afraid to bring up until now. "You've left me." Her eyes filled with tears, but she held them back to the best of her ability. For all she knew, she'd lived to be ninety years old, the Doctor sitting at her bedside, holding her hand as she died from old age.
The Doctor's lips pressed together in a firm line as he avoided her gaze. He couldn't tell her exactly what happened - the pain of being torn apart, the aversion he still had to plain white walls, his seething hatred of beaches, of Norway, the times he cheated and went back to see her without ever interacting just to faintly hear her laugh from the next department over at Henrick's, the hours he spent locked away in her room, just curled up on her bed, looking at the trinkets she'd picked up in alien markets along their travels that she'd left scattered on her dresser, the sweater of hers that hung untouched in his closet - no, but he didn't have to lie. "I didn't leave you, you still have me."
He could tell from the look on her face that she heard the untruth in his voice, and he put his finger under her chin, lifting her face until she was looking at him once more. "Hey," He found himself echoing the past, words resurrected from years ago, "how long are you going to stay with me?" he asked his best impression of his old voice. It earned him a watery smile as she conjured up the answer from her own memory. "Forever."
_________________________________________________________
The Doctor and Rose wandered through the crowd toward the other end of the main street, hand in hand in silence, until they spotted a frantic looking man in pinstripes. The Doctor in the bow tie grinned widely, a genuine sort of amusement in his voice as he whispered into her hair. "Rose Tyler, I've been going mad without you. Rule number one." She smiled brightly up at him as she called out to the other Doctor.
"Rose Tyler!" he shouted, panic clear in his voice, though it seemed to be dissipating the more he spoke. "I've been going mad without you!" The laugh this earned from Rose didn't amuse him. "Rule number one: don't wander off. We've been-" he stopped short as he realised the man beside her had his hand in hers, clinging with an odd sort of desperation, his fingers digging into the back of her hand. The younger man frowned at her, leaning in to stage whisper. "Picked up another pretty boy, have you?"
The older of the two whispered softly to Rose, "He's jealous." before answering for her as she turned pink, reluctantly letting go of her hand, "Sorry, I found your girlfriend looking scared, she was lost. Didn't want to get split up in the mob over there, you know?"
Rose finally interjected, looking up at him with her eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "He's not my boyfriend." she insisted, though she wasn't sure why she felt the need to convince someone who knew better. As if she'd said it in a more flirtatious tone, her Doctor gripped her hand tightly, tugging her closer to his side, but the one in the bow tie, the man who knew their grim, but ultimately happy, future looked at Rose as he spoke, ignoring his younger self. "I know a couple in love when I see one." He paused, but cut her off as she opened her mouth to argue further. His beautifully stubborn Rose. "Keep holding hands, don't let go. Don't get lost again." He knew he couldn't change the past, but it applied nonetheless, at least for the moment. He took another moment to look at Rose, drink her in, memorise every detail, and then turned away.
As he walked off, he heard a conversation that only now made sense to him. "Where'd you end up?" he'd asked, trying to suppress his jealousy. He recalled thinking she'd ended up at some sort of gypsy's booth as she replied, a satisfied smile on her face as she pressed herself snugly into his side. "I had my future told."