Glimpse of Truth (chapter 8) Burned Bridges
Title: Burned Bridges (8/?) (part of the Truth series)
Author: sinecure - My master fic list
Character/Pairing: Ten, Rose
Rating: Adult
Genre: Angst/Romance
Summary: Has Ten burned his bridges?
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.
Author's Notes: To momdaegmorgan for the beta and the ideas for this series. You rock, Jenny!
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 (all ages version).
Chapter 4 (adult version), Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7.
The Doctor stared at the ceiling and drew in a shallow breath. Images of Rose flickered through his mind, echoes of her laughter bringing a smile to his lips. His hearts, as they always did these days, felt like one too many in his chest.
One to care and one to spare, Rose had often told him.
He shook his head, not wanting to dwell on better times. Times when she didn't hate him. It'd get them nowhere.
Instead, he threw a hand over his eyes and sifted through his new memories, ones that included some very graphic images of Rose. They played before his eyes, drawing him in, forcing him to slow them down, to pick one from the multitude. As always, the intensity of the feelings was unexpected enough to make him gasp, each memory feeling like it was happening to him at that very moment. It was odd; his other self had fed him these images as he died, but they weren't fading, weren't growing old and blurry like he'd expected them to.
They were so vivid in fact, that he had a hard time telling them from reality sometimes.
He wondered if Rose had noticed his preoccupation. She was hardly speaking to him anymore, not that he blamed her. He had kidnapped her after all. But that didn't account for all the time he spent in his room, not alone, because he had his memories of Rose and the other him, though they felt like his own.
Like his fingers inside her.
Closing his eyes, he willed the images away. Resisted the urge to lick his fingers or to stroke himself in time to her gasping, panting breaths as she rode the other him.
Sitting up with a sigh, he rubbed his aching head with his hands and rested his elbows on his knees. Three hours was long enough to hide from Rose and it was time he got up and faced her. Or rather, watched her walk away from him again.
Two weeks hadn't lessened her anger.
****
Exhausted after six straight hours of working under the TARDIS console, the Doctor walked into the kitchen for a snack and stopped short upon seeing Rose seated at the small round table in the middle of the room. He paused only briefly before entering the kitchen completely and grabbing a mug from the cupboard.
When he turned back around, she was gone.
Setting the mug on the counter, he sighed and leaned back with one hand. Three weeks gone by and she still wouldn't talk to him. Couldn't even be in the same room with him.
There would be no soft, sweet kiss after his apology this time.
Taking a deep breath, he shook his head and rubbed his hands over his eyes. That wasn't his memory.
****
Without looking up from the book she was reading, Rose cut him off mid-sentence. "Unless you're here to tell me you're taking me home, I don't care. I'm busy."
He glanced at the books spread across the bed, reading a few of the titles. They were all anatomy books, dealing with pregnancy in humans as well as in other species. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I keep telling you, I can't take you home."
"Get out."
"Rose..." Behind his eyes, she glared at the other him as he grabbed her arm and pulled her tight to his chest, stopping her from leaving after a particularly ugly argument. Blinking against the familiar images, the Doctor rubbed his head harder.
She looked up, dark eyes narrowing on his. "Leave."
Knowing he wouldn't get any further with her this time, he stood up, leveling his gaze on her. He wanted nothing more than to pull her up with him and take off for places unknown, but it wasn't ever going to be that way between them again. He'd burned his bridges five weeks ago when he put them in the vortex and refused to leave it until she came to her senses. Well, no. It was actually much earlier than that; he'd killed his relationship with Rose when he told her he was abandoning her and the other him in Pete's universe.
He paused at the door briefly, glancing over his shoulder at her. She darted her head back down, pretending to read.
Chapter 9
Author: sinecure - My master fic list
Character/Pairing: Ten, Rose
Rating: Adult
Genre: Angst/Romance
Summary: Has Ten burned his bridges?
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.
Author's Notes: To momdaegmorgan for the beta and the ideas for this series. You rock, Jenny!
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 (all ages version).
Chapter 4 (adult version), Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7.
The Doctor stared at the ceiling and drew in a shallow breath. Images of Rose flickered through his mind, echoes of her laughter bringing a smile to his lips. His hearts, as they always did these days, felt like one too many in his chest.
One to care and one to spare, Rose had often told him.
He shook his head, not wanting to dwell on better times. Times when she didn't hate him. It'd get them nowhere.
Instead, he threw a hand over his eyes and sifted through his new memories, ones that included some very graphic images of Rose. They played before his eyes, drawing him in, forcing him to slow them down, to pick one from the multitude. As always, the intensity of the feelings was unexpected enough to make him gasp, each memory feeling like it was happening to him at that very moment. It was odd; his other self had fed him these images as he died, but they weren't fading, weren't growing old and blurry like he'd expected them to.
They were so vivid in fact, that he had a hard time telling them from reality sometimes.
He wondered if Rose had noticed his preoccupation. She was hardly speaking to him anymore, not that he blamed her. He had kidnapped her after all. But that didn't account for all the time he spent in his room, not alone, because he had his memories of Rose and the other him, though they felt like his own.
Like his fingers inside her.
Closing his eyes, he willed the images away. Resisted the urge to lick his fingers or to stroke himself in time to her gasping, panting breaths as she rode the other him.
Sitting up with a sigh, he rubbed his aching head with his hands and rested his elbows on his knees. Three hours was long enough to hide from Rose and it was time he got up and faced her. Or rather, watched her walk away from him again.
Two weeks hadn't lessened her anger.
****
Exhausted after six straight hours of working under the TARDIS console, the Doctor walked into the kitchen for a snack and stopped short upon seeing Rose seated at the small round table in the middle of the room. He paused only briefly before entering the kitchen completely and grabbing a mug from the cupboard.
When he turned back around, she was gone.
Setting the mug on the counter, he sighed and leaned back with one hand. Three weeks gone by and she still wouldn't talk to him. Couldn't even be in the same room with him.
There would be no soft, sweet kiss after his apology this time.
Taking a deep breath, he shook his head and rubbed his hands over his eyes. That wasn't his memory.
****
Without looking up from the book she was reading, Rose cut him off mid-sentence. "Unless you're here to tell me you're taking me home, I don't care. I'm busy."
He glanced at the books spread across the bed, reading a few of the titles. They were all anatomy books, dealing with pregnancy in humans as well as in other species. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I keep telling you, I can't take you home."
"Get out."
"Rose..." Behind his eyes, she glared at the other him as he grabbed her arm and pulled her tight to his chest, stopping her from leaving after a particularly ugly argument. Blinking against the familiar images, the Doctor rubbed his head harder.
She looked up, dark eyes narrowing on his. "Leave."
Knowing he wouldn't get any further with her this time, he stood up, leveling his gaze on her. He wanted nothing more than to pull her up with him and take off for places unknown, but it wasn't ever going to be that way between them again. He'd burned his bridges five weeks ago when he put them in the vortex and refused to leave it until she came to her senses. Well, no. It was actually much earlier than that; he'd killed his relationship with Rose when he told her he was abandoning her and the other him in Pete's universe.
He paused at the door briefly, glancing over his shoulder at her. She darted her head back down, pretending to read.
Chapter 9