Fic: Sentire (7/9)
Title: Sentire (7/9)
Author: Ella Jane
Characters: Nine/Rose, Jack
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Series Rating: NC-17
Timeline: AU from The Doctor Dances
A/N: Once again, I feel a need to comment about the awesomeness of the people who are following this fic. Given that I have such a small body of work, I was never expecting the number of readers/comments I've been getting. This fic has been a part of me for so very long, it's incredibly rewarding to know that people are connecting with it. I'm just so grateful to all of you. And you should be incredibly grateful to
invisible_lift; this part was a mess, and he didn't let me leave it that way.
x-posted to
dwfiction,
time_and_chips, and
better_with_3, and archived at Teaspoon.
PSA: Light text on a dark background can add insult to injury on an ugly, rainy Monday. Click here to view the entry in your own LJ format.
part one | part two | part three | interlude | part four | part five | part six
* * * * * * *
sentire: (L.) experience, feel, perceive, see, think, realize, understand.
* * * * * * *
Jack did just as the Doctor instructed: he sat still and watched her. It killed him that he couldn't do more; the urge to reach for her and pull her into him and hold her until she came back to herself was overwhelming, but the Doctor knew things he didn't, and Jack had no choice but to believe him. So he watched her, and waited.
Eventually, after endless, countless minutes, her sobs lessened and her breathing became more regular. She took a deep breath and held it, like she was checking for something. Finally, she exhaled slowly and ran her hands over her face and back through her hair.
"Rose?" Jack said softly. He wouldn't touch her first, but he couldn't help calling out to her, now that the storm seemed to have subsided.
Her head lifted a bit at the sound, and she turned toward him, squinting through swollen eyes to try to see him in the dark. "Jack?" Her voice was barely a whisper, as though she were still unsure of her surroundings.
"It's me," Jack replied, still a bit uncertain.
"Oh, Jack..." Rose slowly pulled herself back up the bed to his side, and reaching one arm over his chest, curled against him. She began to cry again, not the wild, shuddering sobs of a few minutes ago, but quietly, tears of exhaustion rather than fear.
Jack felt relief wash over him at the feel of Rose's skin to his. He moved to lay down next to her and gathered her into his arms, gently shushing her. "Rose, darling, you're all right. I'm right here, I'm staying right here." He smoothed her hair back and kissed the top of her head, tears jumping unbidden to his own eyes. "You can sleep now, it'll be okay."
"Thank you," she whispered into his chest.
Jack continued stroking her hair and back. "Just sleep, sweetheart. You're okay, just sleep." He dropped light kisses on her temple and forehead until the tears dried, and her breathing became slow and steady.
Only then did he close his eyes as well, vowing not to let go of her, even as he slept.
* * * * * * *
Rose was still asleep, spooned into Jack, when he awoke. He wouldn't have minded a quick trip to the loo, but he did not want to risk disturbing her, or worse, having her wake up alone, even if he was just in the next room. He resigned himself to lying there all day if he had to, just to avoid that.
He also tried to avoid -- quite unsuccessfuly -- the anger weighing on his chest. The Doctor displaying a lack of emotion, bordering on callousness, was not new, nor even unusual, really, but it was unusual where Rose was concerned. Jack wanted to give him the benefit of every doubt he could think of, but at the end of the day, the Doctor had left; left Rose in a state of near-clinical hysteria, and left Jack to take care of her. It seemed a coward's way out, which also didn't make sense, from what Jack had learned of the Doctor's character.
But that's what Jack kept coming back to. The Doctor had left her, abandoned her in this terrible state he had caused. It was inexcusable. Jack felt his blood pressure rise. The Doctor deserved a little bit of anger.
The light from the TARDIS's representation of Earth's sun was already coming in the windows, and Rose stirred only a short time later. She pulled away from Jack's body to stretch for a long moment, in several different directions, then settled back down, pressing back against his chest, breathing out a tired sigh.
"Morning," Jack whispered into her ear, testing to see if she was, in fact, awake.
"Hi," Rose answered automatically, though her voice croaked a bit. She lifted a hand to her mouth, then tried to swallow. "Is there water?" she asked in a whisper, turning to face him.
"Yep." Jack reached behind him to the bedside table and grabbed a bottle, propping himself up on his elbow. She pulled up a bit and took several long drinks, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as he took the empty bottle back from her.
"Thanks," she said, her voice beginning to return, and she fell back to the bed, staring at the ceiling. Her eyes were still swollen, and she opened them wide and then blinked, trying to return some moisture to them. She smiled sheepishly as she caught Jack's eye, pulling the sheet up to cover her mouth and nose. "God, I must look a fright."
"You look beautiful," Jack said without hesitation, reaching down to brush a few errant strands of hair from her forehead. "You'd have to do a lot worse than this to not look beautiful."
"Yeah, yeah," Rose said dismissively. Her eyes fell closed as her smile faded. Inhaling deeply, she sat up and settled back against the headboard. She stared down at her hands, absently rubbing a thumb into the opposite palm, then spoke, quietly.
"Do you... do you know what happened?" She glanced down at him.
Jack sighed, and answered honestly. "No. I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I don't. He... wouldn't tell me." Jack waited for her to continue. If she asked him specifically what he saw, he'd tell her, but only if she asked, because he just didn't think it would help her. There was only one person who could, and it wasn't him.
Rose nodded, defeated. "Not exactly one for over-sharing." She chewed her lip, thoughtful a moment until, unbidden, her eyes filled with tears. She shook her head and took a deep breath, trying to keep from crying. She exhaled and raised her eyes to the ceiling once again, blinking away the tears through sheer force of will.
Jack heart dropped to his stomach as he raised himself to sit next to her. It killed him to see her in pain when he couldn't fix it. "Rose, listen to me. You have every reason to feel confused, even scared. In fact, you have every reason to be angry." Jack reached over to wipe her tears away with his thumb, first from one cheek, then the other. "So when you're ready to talk to him, talk to him, and don't let him stop until he tells you what happened. It happened to you. You deserve to know why." He turned her chin toward him and looked directly into her eyes. "Don't let him off the hook, just because he is who he is."
"Okay," she agreed. "Okay." She smiled at him, through the last of her tears. "Thank you, Jack."
He returned her smile. "You're welcome."
"Not just for the advice, but for, well..." She closed her eyes one more time and let her head fall sideways to rest on his shoulder. "I do remember everything that happened last night, before... and what happened was incredible. You were incredible."
"So were you, sweetheart," Jack replied, planting a kiss on the top of her head. His voice dropped to a whisper. "So were you."
Rose sighed and stretched again. "I think it's time for about three hours in a hot bath," she groaned, sitting forward and glancing around for her dressing gown.
"You want me to bring you some tea?" Jack asked.
Rose chuckled softly, something that was unexpectedly reassuring to him. "Nah, that's okay." She recovered her robe from the foot of the bed and slipped it on, knotting it at the waist. She moved to his side of the bed on her way to the door. "You are skilled at many things, Captain Harkness, but making tea is not one of them." She leaned down to offer him a quick kiss, then paused to press her forehead to his for a heartbeat or two before slipping out toward her own room.
* * * * * * *
Jack showered and made his way to the kitchen. Rose was probably right about his tea-making skills, but he could do something for her, maybe hot chocolate, maybe some toast...
He stopped short when he saw the Doctor leaning against the counter, staring down into his own mug of tea.
The anger that had been dancing around Jack's mind earlier that morning slammed into him full force the instant he saw the Doctor. Still standing in the doorway, he crossed his arms over his chest, making an effort to keep his voice low and controlled. "Morning," he said evenly.
"Morning," the Doctor replied, his voice flat. He didn't look up.
Jack didn't skip a beat. "What the hell did you do to her?"
"Jack..." he began, still staring at his tea.
"What did you do to her?" Jack repeated, a little bit slower this time.
The Doctor paused, swirling the mug. "It's complicated."
"Well, I'm a pretty smart guy," Jack responded evenly. "You'll have to do better than that."
Another pause. "It's also none of your business." With that, the Doctor raised his head to look at Jack with dark, clouded, tired eyes.
Jack snapped. "Of course it's my business," he spat out, moving through the doorway into the kitchen. "I was there, okay? Maybe nothing happened to me directly, but I was there. I had to watch her go through something even I've never seen happen before, wondering if I had anything to do with it, and then you admitted to me that you did it, that you caused it. Am I supposed to just forget about it?"
The Doctor didn't respond, and went back to staring into his tea.
Jack didn't know what else to say. "Look, I love her too."
The Doctor's head came up again, slowly this time, and his eyes, clear and sharp now, razored in on Jack, who felt the look like a punch in the solar plexus. Jack saw a challenge in that gaze, almost a dare, one he would never come close to winning, and it was enough to make him back down, at least momentarily.
He exhaled slowly and lowered his voice a decibel or two. "You know what I mean. I love you both, and I don't like seeing people I love get hurt. Rose got hurt last night, right in front of me, and I want to know why."
The Doctor's gaze continued to bore into Jack for a long moment. "It wasn't intentional," he finally said.
"It didn't look like an accident," Jack replied quickly, refusing to look away.
"You really think I meant to hurt her?"
"No, but I think you meant to do whatever it was you did."
The Doctor finally broke their stare, his eyes drifting once more to the mug in his hand.
It was an admission, as much of one as Jack was likely to get. He sighed in frustration. "Okay, fine. Don't talk to me, but you better damn well talk to her. She's hurt, and she's confused, and she's scared. She needs answers, the sooner the better."
"Fine." With that, the Doctor set down his tea, and walked past Jack out of the kitchen.
* * * * * * *
Times like these, Rose wished she could breathe underwater. The tub was so deep that she was just barely floating above the bottom of it, and was long enough that if she could, she would sink down in and allow her head to join her body, and just rest, weightless and silent and submerged.
For now, her head was propped up against the edge, resting on a towel. She lay there, breathing in and out, inhaling the lavender scent of her bath salts and trying not to think. Trying not to think about what happened, about what he might have done to her, about whether she had done anything to cause it, about what all of it meant. Trying not to think about whether she'd have to go home. Trying not to think about the anger welling in the pit of her stomach and the hurt suffocating her chest. Trying. Not succeeding.
And without opening her eyes, without having heard a sound, she knew he was there. Standing in the doorway, watching her.
Rose held her breath, as though she could confirm his presence only in absolute silence, then exhaled in a sigh. "Are you going to come in?" she asked quietly. She didn't move, didn't even open her eyes. She breathed, and waited.
After a minute, she heard his clothes fall to the floor, one item after the other, then felt his body break the surface of the water. He sank down, settling himself against the other side of the tub, stretching his legs out on either side of hers. After several long moments, when the water stilled, the Doctor spoke.
"Do you trust me?"
With that, she raised her head, and looked him straight in the eye. He looked different, somehow. "Yes."
"Even after last night?"
"Yes."
"Are you afraid of me?"
Her eyes fell closed. She shook her head, lowering her chin to her chest. Impossible, she thought.
"Rose?"
She looked at him again. "I'm not afraid of you." Her tone was indignant, almost.
"But you're afraid of what happened?"
Now she nodded. "Yeah."
"Can you tell me exactly what you felt?"
He waited quietly, watching her gather her thoughts. She stared into the water between them, not really seeing it, for a minute or two, then finally spoke.
"I was... overwhelmed, I guess. Overpowered. And... I didn't know why. I didn't know what was going on. I couldn't see anything, or hear anything. I felt like I was losing myself, like I was... being pushed out of my own mind. I could feel it happening, but I had no control over it, I couldn't stop it." She paused a moment. "I couldn't make sense of anything, and I was so scared, and I felt myself pushing you and Jack away, but that wasn't what I wanted, not really. I just wanted everything to stop, let me catch up, but I couldn't make it stop. And then I gave up, and I was just... falling, or something, and I just figured it was all over, this was it, I was... dying. But I didn't want to, I didn't want everything to end, not knowing why, not... having the chance..."
She stopped, closing her eyes. The Doctor mentally flogged himself once or twice for what he had done to her the night before, and what he was doing to her now. It was cruel, perhaps, making her relive it, but he needed to know exactly what it was like for her, before he could help her understand... but he couldn't yet, not yet, and he didn't know what to do.
"Hey," he said softly. "Rose, it's all right. Come here." He held his arms out to her, and felt a rush of relief as she pushed up and drifted through the water toward him. He put a hand to her cheek and kissed her gently on the mouth, then turned her to float her back into his chest. He wrapped an arm around her torso, folded his legs over hers, and pressed his mouth to her neck and shoulder. He inhaled her scent, mixed with soap and water and life, pure life, and wondered how long he could keep her just like that.
It wasn't long at all.
"You know what happened," she said quietly, a statement, her voice calm and steady. "You did it, didn't you? So you know."
His eyes fell closed involuntarily. "Yes." Finally. He braced against the onslaught of his internal recriminations as he felt her body tense slightly in his arms. A distinct twitch, a breath, and then another twitch. A recognizable pattern of movements that told him she was trying not to cry.
"Rose, please, listen to me." His voice gave only the smallest hint of panic. He was treading on very unfamiliar ground at the moment. He pressed a hand to her forehead, gently pulling her head back against him as his mouth found her collarbone. He felt like he wanted to absorb her, hold her or hold on to her or hold her down until he could figure out what to say to her, because he knew she wouldn't stay, but he wasn't ready. "I'll tell you, okay? I'll explain everything, but please, not right now. Not in here." He sucked at her tender skin in desperation, moving his way up her neck to her temple. "I promise, I'll tell you everything, answer all your questions. But I need some time."
It wasn't a lie. As he listened to her recount what she had experienced, he realized that there was still far too much to sort out in his own head before he could even begin to try to explain what had happened, what he had done. He didn't want to hurt her any more than he already had, but this was far too complicated, and far too important. If he tried now, before he had it figured out himself, he'd only make things worse.
"Right," she sighed. She inhaled deeply, and the Doctor heard the small shudder that told him he hadn't been able to keep her from crying. "You'll tell me, just not yet, because it's not quite convenient for you, is that right?"
"Rose, no, that's not what I meant..."
Rose shoved against him, scrambling out of the tub and wrapping herself in a long white robe before turning to face him, fury lighting her eyes with a blinding fire. "You are a self-centered bastard. All that happened is I got shoved out of my own mind for a while, all that happened is I thought I was dying, and of course, you did that, but yeah, I can wait as long as you like to find out why."
"It's not like that." His voice grew louder, not in anger, but in desperation.
"Of course it's like that. We do everything on your time, don't we, Time Lord?" She spat out the last words with bitter venom. He sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead in frustration, and realized when he looked back up at her what a mistake that was. Her eyes were wide with shock and hurt. "And I'm so sorry if my silly questions have annoyed you," she scoffed. "How stupidly human of me to expect that you'd actually tell me what I needed to know just because I asked." She grabbed her clothes from the chair and turned away from him, toward the door.
Now he was angry, though he realized it was a selfish reaction. All the anger in the room had only one rightful target, and it wasn't her. "Rose, wait..."
But she didn't. She left, pulling the door closed behind her, not with a slam, but with a soft click.
* * * * * * *
end of part seven
* * * * * * *
part eight
* * * * * * *
Author: Ella Jane
Characters: Nine/Rose, Jack
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Series Rating: NC-17
Timeline: AU from The Doctor Dances
A/N: Once again, I feel a need to comment about the awesomeness of the people who are following this fic. Given that I have such a small body of work, I was never expecting the number of readers/comments I've been getting. This fic has been a part of me for so very long, it's incredibly rewarding to know that people are connecting with it. I'm just so grateful to all of you. And you should be incredibly grateful to
invisible_lift; this part was a mess, and he didn't let me leave it that way.
x-posted to
dwfiction,
time_and_chips, and
better_with_3, and archived at Teaspoon.
PSA: Light text on a dark background can add insult to injury on an ugly, rainy Monday. Click here to view the entry in your own LJ format.
part one | part two | part three | interlude | part four | part five | part six
* * * * * * *
sentire: (L.) experience, feel, perceive, see, think, realize, understand.
* * * * * * *
Jack did just as the Doctor instructed: he sat still and watched her. It killed him that he couldn't do more; the urge to reach for her and pull her into him and hold her until she came back to herself was overwhelming, but the Doctor knew things he didn't, and Jack had no choice but to believe him. So he watched her, and waited.
Eventually, after endless, countless minutes, her sobs lessened and her breathing became more regular. She took a deep breath and held it, like she was checking for something. Finally, she exhaled slowly and ran her hands over her face and back through her hair.
"Rose?" Jack said softly. He wouldn't touch her first, but he couldn't help calling out to her, now that the storm seemed to have subsided.
Her head lifted a bit at the sound, and she turned toward him, squinting through swollen eyes to try to see him in the dark. "Jack?" Her voice was barely a whisper, as though she were still unsure of her surroundings.
"It's me," Jack replied, still a bit uncertain.
"Oh, Jack..." Rose slowly pulled herself back up the bed to his side, and reaching one arm over his chest, curled against him. She began to cry again, not the wild, shuddering sobs of a few minutes ago, but quietly, tears of exhaustion rather than fear.
Jack felt relief wash over him at the feel of Rose's skin to his. He moved to lay down next to her and gathered her into his arms, gently shushing her. "Rose, darling, you're all right. I'm right here, I'm staying right here." He smoothed her hair back and kissed the top of her head, tears jumping unbidden to his own eyes. "You can sleep now, it'll be okay."
"Thank you," she whispered into his chest.
Jack continued stroking her hair and back. "Just sleep, sweetheart. You're okay, just sleep." He dropped light kisses on her temple and forehead until the tears dried, and her breathing became slow and steady.
Only then did he close his eyes as well, vowing not to let go of her, even as he slept.
* * * * * * *
Rose was still asleep, spooned into Jack, when he awoke. He wouldn't have minded a quick trip to the loo, but he did not want to risk disturbing her, or worse, having her wake up alone, even if he was just in the next room. He resigned himself to lying there all day if he had to, just to avoid that.
He also tried to avoid -- quite unsuccessfuly -- the anger weighing on his chest. The Doctor displaying a lack of emotion, bordering on callousness, was not new, nor even unusual, really, but it was unusual where Rose was concerned. Jack wanted to give him the benefit of every doubt he could think of, but at the end of the day, the Doctor had left; left Rose in a state of near-clinical hysteria, and left Jack to take care of her. It seemed a coward's way out, which also didn't make sense, from what Jack had learned of the Doctor's character.
But that's what Jack kept coming back to. The Doctor had left her, abandoned her in this terrible state he had caused. It was inexcusable. Jack felt his blood pressure rise. The Doctor deserved a little bit of anger.
The light from the TARDIS's representation of Earth's sun was already coming in the windows, and Rose stirred only a short time later. She pulled away from Jack's body to stretch for a long moment, in several different directions, then settled back down, pressing back against his chest, breathing out a tired sigh.
"Morning," Jack whispered into her ear, testing to see if she was, in fact, awake.
"Hi," Rose answered automatically, though her voice croaked a bit. She lifted a hand to her mouth, then tried to swallow. "Is there water?" she asked in a whisper, turning to face him.
"Yep." Jack reached behind him to the bedside table and grabbed a bottle, propping himself up on his elbow. She pulled up a bit and took several long drinks, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as he took the empty bottle back from her.
"Thanks," she said, her voice beginning to return, and she fell back to the bed, staring at the ceiling. Her eyes were still swollen, and she opened them wide and then blinked, trying to return some moisture to them. She smiled sheepishly as she caught Jack's eye, pulling the sheet up to cover her mouth and nose. "God, I must look a fright."
"You look beautiful," Jack said without hesitation, reaching down to brush a few errant strands of hair from her forehead. "You'd have to do a lot worse than this to not look beautiful."
"Yeah, yeah," Rose said dismissively. Her eyes fell closed as her smile faded. Inhaling deeply, she sat up and settled back against the headboard. She stared down at her hands, absently rubbing a thumb into the opposite palm, then spoke, quietly.
"Do you... do you know what happened?" She glanced down at him.
Jack sighed, and answered honestly. "No. I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I don't. He... wouldn't tell me." Jack waited for her to continue. If she asked him specifically what he saw, he'd tell her, but only if she asked, because he just didn't think it would help her. There was only one person who could, and it wasn't him.
Rose nodded, defeated. "Not exactly one for over-sharing." She chewed her lip, thoughtful a moment until, unbidden, her eyes filled with tears. She shook her head and took a deep breath, trying to keep from crying. She exhaled and raised her eyes to the ceiling once again, blinking away the tears through sheer force of will.
Jack heart dropped to his stomach as he raised himself to sit next to her. It killed him to see her in pain when he couldn't fix it. "Rose, listen to me. You have every reason to feel confused, even scared. In fact, you have every reason to be angry." Jack reached over to wipe her tears away with his thumb, first from one cheek, then the other. "So when you're ready to talk to him, talk to him, and don't let him stop until he tells you what happened. It happened to you. You deserve to know why." He turned her chin toward him and looked directly into her eyes. "Don't let him off the hook, just because he is who he is."
"Okay," she agreed. "Okay." She smiled at him, through the last of her tears. "Thank you, Jack."
He returned her smile. "You're welcome."
"Not just for the advice, but for, well..." She closed her eyes one more time and let her head fall sideways to rest on his shoulder. "I do remember everything that happened last night, before... and what happened was incredible. You were incredible."
"So were you, sweetheart," Jack replied, planting a kiss on the top of her head. His voice dropped to a whisper. "So were you."
Rose sighed and stretched again. "I think it's time for about three hours in a hot bath," she groaned, sitting forward and glancing around for her dressing gown.
"You want me to bring you some tea?" Jack asked.
Rose chuckled softly, something that was unexpectedly reassuring to him. "Nah, that's okay." She recovered her robe from the foot of the bed and slipped it on, knotting it at the waist. She moved to his side of the bed on her way to the door. "You are skilled at many things, Captain Harkness, but making tea is not one of them." She leaned down to offer him a quick kiss, then paused to press her forehead to his for a heartbeat or two before slipping out toward her own room.
* * * * * * *
Jack showered and made his way to the kitchen. Rose was probably right about his tea-making skills, but he could do something for her, maybe hot chocolate, maybe some toast...
He stopped short when he saw the Doctor leaning against the counter, staring down into his own mug of tea.
The anger that had been dancing around Jack's mind earlier that morning slammed into him full force the instant he saw the Doctor. Still standing in the doorway, he crossed his arms over his chest, making an effort to keep his voice low and controlled. "Morning," he said evenly.
"Morning," the Doctor replied, his voice flat. He didn't look up.
Jack didn't skip a beat. "What the hell did you do to her?"
"Jack..." he began, still staring at his tea.
"What did you do to her?" Jack repeated, a little bit slower this time.
The Doctor paused, swirling the mug. "It's complicated."
"Well, I'm a pretty smart guy," Jack responded evenly. "You'll have to do better than that."
Another pause. "It's also none of your business." With that, the Doctor raised his head to look at Jack with dark, clouded, tired eyes.
Jack snapped. "Of course it's my business," he spat out, moving through the doorway into the kitchen. "I was there, okay? Maybe nothing happened to me directly, but I was there. I had to watch her go through something even I've never seen happen before, wondering if I had anything to do with it, and then you admitted to me that you did it, that you caused it. Am I supposed to just forget about it?"
The Doctor didn't respond, and went back to staring into his tea.
Jack didn't know what else to say. "Look, I love her too."
The Doctor's head came up again, slowly this time, and his eyes, clear and sharp now, razored in on Jack, who felt the look like a punch in the solar plexus. Jack saw a challenge in that gaze, almost a dare, one he would never come close to winning, and it was enough to make him back down, at least momentarily.
He exhaled slowly and lowered his voice a decibel or two. "You know what I mean. I love you both, and I don't like seeing people I love get hurt. Rose got hurt last night, right in front of me, and I want to know why."
The Doctor's gaze continued to bore into Jack for a long moment. "It wasn't intentional," he finally said.
"It didn't look like an accident," Jack replied quickly, refusing to look away.
"You really think I meant to hurt her?"
"No, but I think you meant to do whatever it was you did."
The Doctor finally broke their stare, his eyes drifting once more to the mug in his hand.
It was an admission, as much of one as Jack was likely to get. He sighed in frustration. "Okay, fine. Don't talk to me, but you better damn well talk to her. She's hurt, and she's confused, and she's scared. She needs answers, the sooner the better."
"Fine." With that, the Doctor set down his tea, and walked past Jack out of the kitchen.
* * * * * * *
Times like these, Rose wished she could breathe underwater. The tub was so deep that she was just barely floating above the bottom of it, and was long enough that if she could, she would sink down in and allow her head to join her body, and just rest, weightless and silent and submerged.
For now, her head was propped up against the edge, resting on a towel. She lay there, breathing in and out, inhaling the lavender scent of her bath salts and trying not to think. Trying not to think about what happened, about what he might have done to her, about whether she had done anything to cause it, about what all of it meant. Trying not to think about whether she'd have to go home. Trying not to think about the anger welling in the pit of her stomach and the hurt suffocating her chest. Trying. Not succeeding.
And without opening her eyes, without having heard a sound, she knew he was there. Standing in the doorway, watching her.
Rose held her breath, as though she could confirm his presence only in absolute silence, then exhaled in a sigh. "Are you going to come in?" she asked quietly. She didn't move, didn't even open her eyes. She breathed, and waited.
After a minute, she heard his clothes fall to the floor, one item after the other, then felt his body break the surface of the water. He sank down, settling himself against the other side of the tub, stretching his legs out on either side of hers. After several long moments, when the water stilled, the Doctor spoke.
"Do you trust me?"
With that, she raised her head, and looked him straight in the eye. He looked different, somehow. "Yes."
"Even after last night?"
"Yes."
"Are you afraid of me?"
Her eyes fell closed. She shook her head, lowering her chin to her chest. Impossible, she thought.
"Rose?"
She looked at him again. "I'm not afraid of you." Her tone was indignant, almost.
"But you're afraid of what happened?"
Now she nodded. "Yeah."
"Can you tell me exactly what you felt?"
He waited quietly, watching her gather her thoughts. She stared into the water between them, not really seeing it, for a minute or two, then finally spoke.
"I was... overwhelmed, I guess. Overpowered. And... I didn't know why. I didn't know what was going on. I couldn't see anything, or hear anything. I felt like I was losing myself, like I was... being pushed out of my own mind. I could feel it happening, but I had no control over it, I couldn't stop it." She paused a moment. "I couldn't make sense of anything, and I was so scared, and I felt myself pushing you and Jack away, but that wasn't what I wanted, not really. I just wanted everything to stop, let me catch up, but I couldn't make it stop. And then I gave up, and I was just... falling, or something, and I just figured it was all over, this was it, I was... dying. But I didn't want to, I didn't want everything to end, not knowing why, not... having the chance..."
She stopped, closing her eyes. The Doctor mentally flogged himself once or twice for what he had done to her the night before, and what he was doing to her now. It was cruel, perhaps, making her relive it, but he needed to know exactly what it was like for her, before he could help her understand... but he couldn't yet, not yet, and he didn't know what to do.
"Hey," he said softly. "Rose, it's all right. Come here." He held his arms out to her, and felt a rush of relief as she pushed up and drifted through the water toward him. He put a hand to her cheek and kissed her gently on the mouth, then turned her to float her back into his chest. He wrapped an arm around her torso, folded his legs over hers, and pressed his mouth to her neck and shoulder. He inhaled her scent, mixed with soap and water and life, pure life, and wondered how long he could keep her just like that.
It wasn't long at all.
"You know what happened," she said quietly, a statement, her voice calm and steady. "You did it, didn't you? So you know."
His eyes fell closed involuntarily. "Yes." Finally. He braced against the onslaught of his internal recriminations as he felt her body tense slightly in his arms. A distinct twitch, a breath, and then another twitch. A recognizable pattern of movements that told him she was trying not to cry.
"Rose, please, listen to me." His voice gave only the smallest hint of panic. He was treading on very unfamiliar ground at the moment. He pressed a hand to her forehead, gently pulling her head back against him as his mouth found her collarbone. He felt like he wanted to absorb her, hold her or hold on to her or hold her down until he could figure out what to say to her, because he knew she wouldn't stay, but he wasn't ready. "I'll tell you, okay? I'll explain everything, but please, not right now. Not in here." He sucked at her tender skin in desperation, moving his way up her neck to her temple. "I promise, I'll tell you everything, answer all your questions. But I need some time."
It wasn't a lie. As he listened to her recount what she had experienced, he realized that there was still far too much to sort out in his own head before he could even begin to try to explain what had happened, what he had done. He didn't want to hurt her any more than he already had, but this was far too complicated, and far too important. If he tried now, before he had it figured out himself, he'd only make things worse.
"Right," she sighed. She inhaled deeply, and the Doctor heard the small shudder that told him he hadn't been able to keep her from crying. "You'll tell me, just not yet, because it's not quite convenient for you, is that right?"
"Rose, no, that's not what I meant..."
Rose shoved against him, scrambling out of the tub and wrapping herself in a long white robe before turning to face him, fury lighting her eyes with a blinding fire. "You are a self-centered bastard. All that happened is I got shoved out of my own mind for a while, all that happened is I thought I was dying, and of course, you did that, but yeah, I can wait as long as you like to find out why."
"It's not like that." His voice grew louder, not in anger, but in desperation.
"Of course it's like that. We do everything on your time, don't we, Time Lord?" She spat out the last words with bitter venom. He sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead in frustration, and realized when he looked back up at her what a mistake that was. Her eyes were wide with shock and hurt. "And I'm so sorry if my silly questions have annoyed you," she scoffed. "How stupidly human of me to expect that you'd actually tell me what I needed to know just because I asked." She grabbed her clothes from the chair and turned away from him, toward the door.
Now he was angry, though he realized it was a selfish reaction. All the anger in the room had only one rightful target, and it wasn't her. "Rose, wait..."
But she didn't. She left, pulling the door closed behind her, not with a slam, but with a soft click.
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end of part seven
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part eight
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