the moment without
the moment without. doctor/rose [nine, ten, ten II]. pg.
Rose tries to reconcile the Doctor who was with the Doctor who is, finding her answer in an unusual way.
All of this is done for her sake, and it's moments like this one that Rose feels what she knows: There is only the Doctor. He is the same today as yesterday, and he will give his life if he must. She resolves then to take that hand and follow the Doctor further into the wilderness. 3,250.
the moment without
When the Doctor declares, “It is gonna be...fantastic,” and offers Rose his hand, she recognizes both the promise and the plea. This Doctor is so new, but begins to see that he is the same. It's moments like this one-standing beneath the falling ash with a Doctor so guarded yet vulnerable, his hand proffered-that Rose sees in him the man he was. It's as though the Doctor tries to be two people, grafting traits from his last self into his new self rather than allowing the last to influence the new.
All of this is done for her sake, and it's moments like this one that Rose feels what she knows: There is only the Doctor. He is the same today as yesterday, and he will give his life if he must. She resolves then to take that hand and follow the Doctor further into the wilderness.
-
Thing is, the Doctor's hands still fit perfectly around Rose's. It's curious, because this pair of hands is quite different than the previous pair, but it's nonetheless true.
The first adventure, the new, new Doctor and Rose Tyler, is on a planet with sweet-smelling grass and feline nuns. Rose and the Doctor, Cassandra literally in tow, run and defend and prevail.
For that moment, it's as though absolutely nothing in Rose Tyler's universe has changed.
-
She watches him as he flies the TARDIS. The Doctor calls it scrutiny, but Rose calls it immersion. She remembers that when she first met the him, her eyes scarcely fell anywhere except on him as he piloted his ship. In time, it became a familiar and ordinary sight; she wonders when her fascination vanished. She regrets it now, not absorbing each moment with the fervor she first held.
She won't repeat that mistake.
From the other side of the console, the Doctor says, “Four hands are better than two, Rose.”
She springs from her perch and tweaks the controls he points toward.
-
An adventure or so later, Rose and the Doctor lie under the TARDIS' console performing a little maintenance. The Doctor talks to the ship as he works, once or twice slipping into a language she recognizes from earlier occasions like this one. She guesses it's the language of his lost people, now a private language between the Doctor and the TARDIS.
Beneath the sweet, warm glow of the console with the Doctor at her side, Rose's eyes become heavy with sleep. Contented, she allows them to close and drifts toward her dream-
-her eyes burn as though she's looking into the sun. No. This is brighter and more magnificent than the sun. The ache becomes sweet. Somewhere, lost within the recesses of her blossoming mind, Rose is aware of the TARDIS doors snapping shut behind her. She is the Wolf. The Wolf and the TARDIS will rescue the Doctor.
-the Doctor is on his knees, eyes wide and fearful. The Doctor-the Oncoming Storm, the great Time Lord-trembles at the sight of her. Her Doctor, who must be kept safe. Rose pours her name into the universe. The Emperor laughs, but even as he does, Rose is unthreading him. He is dust, a speck in her eye, and then he is nothing.
-her Doctor says, “Just let go.” But how can she let this go? She is Bad Wolf, she can never be Rose Tyler again. She understands the Doctor now more than she did. His eyes, they light up so! How can she let...how can she let...
-she confesses, “It's killing me.”
-her Doctor, he releases her. “I think you need a Doctor.” The Lonely God kisses the Wolf, his turn to rescue her. She pours her name, herself, into him. She loves him, her Doctor, and-
-the Doctor's hands are on her, stilling her as she dreams in misery. She wakes to look directly into his wide and fearful eyes. He pulls her against him and cradles her in his arms. “Why did they hurt? I could see...I could see.”
-
When Rose's tears run out, the Doctor leads her out from beneath the console. She leans against the railing and watches him direct the TARDIS toward Earth. As he flips switches and spins dials, he talks to himself. Most of what he says is nonsense, at least to anyone but him, and if Rose's spirits were higher she would laugh.
The TARDIS materializes in central London. Rose follows the Doctor onto the streets where the smell of chips greets her. “Comfort food!” The Doctor beams at her, rocking on the balls of his feet. “You still love chips, right? Same Rose, same taste buds!” He grabs her hand and gives her a tug toward the shop.
It's crowded and noisy, but Rose finds the sights and sounds comforting. They find a booth in the back, Rose sandwiched between a window and the Doctor. As they wait for their food, he studies her. He bounces his right leg as though it helps him think. After some time, he says, “Well, come on then. Tell me about it.” When Rose stares at the table, he continues, “Have to do it, Rose. I have a couple hundred places and times to take you-a thousand, maybe-but we can't go till you're okay. So-tell me about it.”
“I remember it all. The TARDIS and me. Bad Wolf. The Emperor...Jack. You.”
“Rose.” She knows this tone well enough, firm yet anxious. He knows that she needs clarity, to empty what she feels and rearrange it in a pattern she can understand; Rose knows that the Doctor needs her to do this as much as she needs it, if not more. He reaches out as though to take her hand, but stuffs it into a pocket at the last moment.
She stares through the tinted shop window into the sun so long the silence begins to hurt her ears. “It was perfect.”
The Doctor gives a start at this statement. His expression is strangely grave as the waitress places two platters of chips in front of them. “You looked into the Time Vortex. You shouldn't have done that, Rose. It should've killed you, you know. People aren't supposed to do it.”
“Your people did it,” she counters, uncertain where that knowledge stems from. The Doctor appears equally taken aback.
“That sight made some people mad.” He swallows hard.
“But I saved you. The TARDIS and I together, we saved you. It was like I was blind, but then I could see. I saw it all, held it all.”
The Doctor sighs and shoves his plate away from him. “I'm a Time Lord, I know what you saw, I know what you felt. But you're a human, and you're mortal, and you just can't. You just can't.”
“But Doctor.” Rose notes a tightening in her throat. “You and I, we could have...and you would have never been alone again.”
“You would've burned!” The Doctor's tone is strained. He stands abruptly, as though he can no longer bear to sit still. After a moment, he takes a seat across from her in the booth.
Rose closes her eyes. “I would have.” For you, Doctor, she doesn't say. She doesn't need to say it.
He takes her hands into his. “What you did saved me, but what I did saved us both. I can't promise you'll ever understand that, but you have to trust me, you have to believe that there was no way for you to keep that power.”
“Wish you would've told me,” Rose confesses.
“Wish I could've. There was just-”
“-no time. Yeah, I know.” This time, the silence is peaceful.
Rose watches the Doctor as he picks at his food. He's still fidgeting in his place, although she can't decide whether it's his nerves or just his nature now. He seems to be debating himself, his expression shifting from certainty to uncertainty every few seconds. Her chips are cold when he clears his throat to speak again. “Tell me something, Rose, and be honest because this is important.”
“Yeah?”
“Sometimes-do you ever-Do you ever think about where you and I would have gone after the game station if things had gone differently than they did? What planet or century? I guess, do you ever wonder what if?”
“Yeah,” she admits apologetically.
He offers his sideways smile. “Ever come up with an answer? Someplace you think I'd have liked to bring you?”
“I'm not sure. But...I keep thinking about that transmat system, how we all believed it was a disintegrator that left behind the ashes of a person. Like little piles of sand. It was terrible.”
“Go on,” The Doctor urges.
“Well, I keep thinking you would've taken us some place to...you know. Forget.”
The Doctor stands, digging through his pockets for cash. “I know exactly where that is.”
As they exit the shop, Rose notices the date on a calendar behind the register. It's the fifth of March, the year 2005. Tomorrow, Henrik's is blown up and Rose Tyler meets the Doctor.
-
The Doctor places the TARDIS in orbit around a small planet that seems to be markedly more ocean than land. There are islands-thousands, Rose guesses-dotted across the water. “What's it called?”
“Oh, it's got many names in many, many languages, most of them more difficult to say than Raxacoricofallapatorius. You couldn't pronounce half them. Believe it or not, there are one or two even I find tricky!” The Doctor says all this in one breath. Rose quirks an expectant eyebrow at him when he pauses. “Yeah, anyway, when your people come across it, you call it Lethe.”
“The river of forgetfulness.”
“River of oblivion.” The Doctor directs the TARDIS to land. “The people who first came here gave it the name 'the world time forgot.'”
“Why?”
“Lethe, like my home, is excluded from the laws of time. So long as you're inside the planet's atmosphere, you won't age. There's still day and night and night and day, maybe even a couple of seasons, but you won't age. Time does and doesn't pass.”
The TARDIS settles onto the surface and its doors open gently. As a breeze sweeps through the ship, Rose sighs.
“People foolishly use it to escape, forgetting that each day that time is still ticking outside of Lethe. You don't die, but your family does. Everyone you know and love is dust before you consider leaving. It's only when it's too late that you understand that Lethe is not peaceful. It's without.”
Rose shivers. “Oh.”
“There's little in this great, big universe that's a danger to the typical Time Lord, but Lethe is one of those things. We were warned to not tempt ourselves by coming here.”
“Then why have we?”
The Doctor grins. “I'm far from the typical Time Lord.”
-
Rose follows the Doctor onto the beach. “It's beautiful,” she says, though a shiver snakes down her spine at echo of her voice against the deep quiet.
“Don't be afraid.” They walk toward the shore, and the TARDIS doors close behind them. “Rose?” She tears her gaze from the unending ocean to meet his eyes. “Don't be afraid, okay?”
She nods. “Yeah, okay.”
“I need you to walk that way.” He points to the east. “Follow the shoreline. Walk until you find me again. Don't pause to admire the ocean, just walk.”
“Doctor?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Always.”
“Don't be afraid. Walk.”
-
Rose walks. She walks so far that the TARDIS and the Doctor fall out of her sight. Her only impression of how much time has passed is the dull ache that settles into her legs long before she sees the TARDIS again. Her relief is so great that at first she doesn't note that the TARDIS stands in the wrong direction; the doors face her rather than the ocean.
As she nears the TARDIS, the doors open. Rose catches a glimpse of dark leather. Everything within her gives a start, and she stumbles to a stop, nearly losing her footing. His eyes find her, confusion and hesitation in his expression. “Doctor.” His name catches in her throat, comes out as a sigh. Her muscles and bones and heart scream for her to go to him, to throw herself into his arms, but she stays rooted in her spot.
“Rose Tyler?” The Doctor closes the TARDIS doors behind himself and drops the key into his pocket. Rose knows this Doctor well, so she recognizes his guarded stance. Cautiously, she walks toward him. She remembers the repercussions of saving her father's life and now understands how delicate and complex time can be, but when the Doctor's features fall into a brief and accidental grin, she can't keep her footsteps from falling faster. “I just left you on Earth. I have to ask-Where in the universe did you find a better offer?”
Rose can't help her grin now, her elation is overwhelming. “You undersold your ship.”
“Ah.” He nods knowingly, although Rose can tell he hasn't quite worked out her meaning. As she watches him, his eyes pointedly avoid hers. It's a blessing and a curse, knowing him so well, because she recognizes the heaviness he carries.
“You say you just left me?” She searches his expression for a confirmation of what she suspects.
“Well, just is a vague word.”
“It isn't.” This time, the Doctor's eyes flash with irritation, but Rose presses him. “How long have you been here, Doctor?”
The Doctor spins on his heel and walks toward the shoreline, leaving Rose behind him. By the time she reaches the shore, he's sitting in the sand. His knees are pulled up against his chest, his arms slung loosely over them. She comes to his side and mimics his position. The sun is setting somewhere, and Rose remembers the other Doctor's order: don't admire the ocean. She sees why; it's so boundless and beautiful she could easily lose herself in it.
Rose refocuses her thoughts on the Doctor. She measures time by the Doctor's breathing, the rhythmic inhale and exhale. He shifts in regular intervals. Rose is unsure of exact minutes or hours, but she knows that outside of Lethe, the universe breathes with the Doctor.
-
A number of these cycles later, Rose realizes what she wants to say. “Doctor.” His gaze remains on the ocean. “Doctor, I'm sorry.” For Gallifrey, for your loss, for rejecting your first invitation, for having trouble accepting you now.
“I know.”
She thinks again of the fragility of time, of the risk in the Doctor knowing any of what awaits him, and she knows that somewhere it's March on Earth and in nineteen seconds, he will return with a second offer. But Rose has a terrible image of the Doctor on the shores of Lethe until everything outside it has withered, she imagines this planet withering too and taking the Doctor with it, and she knows she must somehow persuade him to leave. “I-I also want to thank you.”
His eyes snap to hers. For a moment, Rose fears she's spoken too much, but then the Doctor replies, “I suspect that I owe you similar gratitude.” Though his words are genuine, they are also spoken with considerable effort. He's uneasy still, but she knows it's a fear of stepping forward that cripples him. There are questions Rose knows he wants to ask, although he knows better than to do so. Instead he says, “You should-”
Just as she says, “I should-”
“-go.”
“-yeah. Yeah.” The pair stand to face one another, and the gravity of this moment occurs to Rose. When the Doctor took the Time Vortex from her body, she didn't realize it was her last opportunity to talk to him. As she stands before him now, she knows she will never see him again, not this way. “I suppose though, this being my last chance-I-Doctor, I-” He waits expectantly, but Rose fears the possible consequences of her caution in the wind and stops herself.
She takes a step toward him and closes the distance between them. She wraps her arms around his waist and hides her face between his jacket and his chest. The Doctor exhales abruptly as her grip forces the air from his lungs, but he returns her embrace. Perhaps it's merely indulgence, perhaps some Time Lord intuition causes him to respond, but she closes her eyes and fixes every facet of this moment in her memory.
Then she holds the Doctor's hand and leads him to his ship.
As she walks west along the coast, she hears the sound of TARDIS' departure.
-
This time, Rose sees the Doctor before she sees the TARDIS. Night has fallen now, leaving her with a far away moon for light. She keeps close to the tide, looking ahead to the horizon. She knows she's close now. She can feel it.
Then she sees the Doctor coming over a hill. His hands are stuffed in his pockets, and his eyes on the sand as he walks. She feels it then-sincerely and passionately-her love for him, and it propels her forward. She kicks up sand as she runs to him. He glances up just as she collides with him. They fall together, laughing until they ache.
When they quiet, they turn on their sides in the sand to face each other. The Doctor smiles, catching the wild strands of her blonde hair blown about by the wind and curling them around his fingers. “Hello. Rose Tyler.”
“Hello.”
The Doctor and Rose watch one another for awhile, until her eyes are heavy again with sleep. Her hand tucked perfectly within his, they return to the TARDIS.
-
-
Rose wakes in the TARDIS sometime later. Unanticipated joy warms her bones as she winds her way through the ship's passages. This TARDIS is still new, she's still learning to navigate it. At last, she finds the entryway and the Doctor. He's beneath the console, examining the TARDIS' hidden gadgets. He's still familiarizing himself with the ship too.
At the sound of her footsteps, he crawls out from below the console to greet her. “Good morning!” He has a bit of a strange accent, one that's particularly strong in the morning when he hasn't yet had much use for his voice. Rose loves it as much as she loves his increasingly untamed hair. It isn't until the Doctor frowns that she realizes she's staring. “You're scrutinizing again,” he chides.
She shakes her head. “No. Never.” He quirks an eyebrow. “Okay. A little,” she confesses with a laugh.
“I thought so.” He grins at her in the way only the Doctor can. “Where to first, Rose? This universe is all-new. Well, when I say all-new-”
“Anywhere. Anytime. We have a lifetime of adventures to pursue.” Rose takes the Doctor's hand. It fits, as it always has. “And you know what? It's going to be fantastic.”
Rose tries to reconcile the Doctor who was with the Doctor who is, finding her answer in an unusual way.
All of this is done for her sake, and it's moments like this one that Rose feels what she knows: There is only the Doctor. He is the same today as yesterday, and he will give his life if he must. She resolves then to take that hand and follow the Doctor further into the wilderness. 3,250.
the moment without
When the Doctor declares, “It is gonna be...fantastic,” and offers Rose his hand, she recognizes both the promise and the plea. This Doctor is so new, but begins to see that he is the same. It's moments like this one-standing beneath the falling ash with a Doctor so guarded yet vulnerable, his hand proffered-that Rose sees in him the man he was. It's as though the Doctor tries to be two people, grafting traits from his last self into his new self rather than allowing the last to influence the new.
All of this is done for her sake, and it's moments like this one that Rose feels what she knows: There is only the Doctor. He is the same today as yesterday, and he will give his life if he must. She resolves then to take that hand and follow the Doctor further into the wilderness.
-
Thing is, the Doctor's hands still fit perfectly around Rose's. It's curious, because this pair of hands is quite different than the previous pair, but it's nonetheless true.
The first adventure, the new, new Doctor and Rose Tyler, is on a planet with sweet-smelling grass and feline nuns. Rose and the Doctor, Cassandra literally in tow, run and defend and prevail.
For that moment, it's as though absolutely nothing in Rose Tyler's universe has changed.
-
She watches him as he flies the TARDIS. The Doctor calls it scrutiny, but Rose calls it immersion. She remembers that when she first met the him, her eyes scarcely fell anywhere except on him as he piloted his ship. In time, it became a familiar and ordinary sight; she wonders when her fascination vanished. She regrets it now, not absorbing each moment with the fervor she first held.
She won't repeat that mistake.
From the other side of the console, the Doctor says, “Four hands are better than two, Rose.”
She springs from her perch and tweaks the controls he points toward.
-
An adventure or so later, Rose and the Doctor lie under the TARDIS' console performing a little maintenance. The Doctor talks to the ship as he works, once or twice slipping into a language she recognizes from earlier occasions like this one. She guesses it's the language of his lost people, now a private language between the Doctor and the TARDIS.
Beneath the sweet, warm glow of the console with the Doctor at her side, Rose's eyes become heavy with sleep. Contented, she allows them to close and drifts toward her dream-
-her eyes burn as though she's looking into the sun. No. This is brighter and more magnificent than the sun. The ache becomes sweet. Somewhere, lost within the recesses of her blossoming mind, Rose is aware of the TARDIS doors snapping shut behind her. She is the Wolf. The Wolf and the TARDIS will rescue the Doctor.
-the Doctor is on his knees, eyes wide and fearful. The Doctor-the Oncoming Storm, the great Time Lord-trembles at the sight of her. Her Doctor, who must be kept safe. Rose pours her name into the universe. The Emperor laughs, but even as he does, Rose is unthreading him. He is dust, a speck in her eye, and then he is nothing.
-her Doctor says, “Just let go.” But how can she let this go? She is Bad Wolf, she can never be Rose Tyler again. She understands the Doctor now more than she did. His eyes, they light up so! How can she let...how can she let...
-she confesses, “It's killing me.”
-her Doctor, he releases her. “I think you need a Doctor.” The Lonely God kisses the Wolf, his turn to rescue her. She pours her name, herself, into him. She loves him, her Doctor, and-
-the Doctor's hands are on her, stilling her as she dreams in misery. She wakes to look directly into his wide and fearful eyes. He pulls her against him and cradles her in his arms. “Why did they hurt? I could see...I could see.”
-
When Rose's tears run out, the Doctor leads her out from beneath the console. She leans against the railing and watches him direct the TARDIS toward Earth. As he flips switches and spins dials, he talks to himself. Most of what he says is nonsense, at least to anyone but him, and if Rose's spirits were higher she would laugh.
The TARDIS materializes in central London. Rose follows the Doctor onto the streets where the smell of chips greets her. “Comfort food!” The Doctor beams at her, rocking on the balls of his feet. “You still love chips, right? Same Rose, same taste buds!” He grabs her hand and gives her a tug toward the shop.
It's crowded and noisy, but Rose finds the sights and sounds comforting. They find a booth in the back, Rose sandwiched between a window and the Doctor. As they wait for their food, he studies her. He bounces his right leg as though it helps him think. After some time, he says, “Well, come on then. Tell me about it.” When Rose stares at the table, he continues, “Have to do it, Rose. I have a couple hundred places and times to take you-a thousand, maybe-but we can't go till you're okay. So-tell me about it.”
“I remember it all. The TARDIS and me. Bad Wolf. The Emperor...Jack. You.”
“Rose.” She knows this tone well enough, firm yet anxious. He knows that she needs clarity, to empty what she feels and rearrange it in a pattern she can understand; Rose knows that the Doctor needs her to do this as much as she needs it, if not more. He reaches out as though to take her hand, but stuffs it into a pocket at the last moment.
She stares through the tinted shop window into the sun so long the silence begins to hurt her ears. “It was perfect.”
The Doctor gives a start at this statement. His expression is strangely grave as the waitress places two platters of chips in front of them. “You looked into the Time Vortex. You shouldn't have done that, Rose. It should've killed you, you know. People aren't supposed to do it.”
“Your people did it,” she counters, uncertain where that knowledge stems from. The Doctor appears equally taken aback.
“That sight made some people mad.” He swallows hard.
“But I saved you. The TARDIS and I together, we saved you. It was like I was blind, but then I could see. I saw it all, held it all.”
The Doctor sighs and shoves his plate away from him. “I'm a Time Lord, I know what you saw, I know what you felt. But you're a human, and you're mortal, and you just can't. You just can't.”
“But Doctor.” Rose notes a tightening in her throat. “You and I, we could have...and you would have never been alone again.”
“You would've burned!” The Doctor's tone is strained. He stands abruptly, as though he can no longer bear to sit still. After a moment, he takes a seat across from her in the booth.
Rose closes her eyes. “I would have.” For you, Doctor, she doesn't say. She doesn't need to say it.
He takes her hands into his. “What you did saved me, but what I did saved us both. I can't promise you'll ever understand that, but you have to trust me, you have to believe that there was no way for you to keep that power.”
“Wish you would've told me,” Rose confesses.
“Wish I could've. There was just-”
“-no time. Yeah, I know.” This time, the silence is peaceful.
Rose watches the Doctor as he picks at his food. He's still fidgeting in his place, although she can't decide whether it's his nerves or just his nature now. He seems to be debating himself, his expression shifting from certainty to uncertainty every few seconds. Her chips are cold when he clears his throat to speak again. “Tell me something, Rose, and be honest because this is important.”
“Yeah?”
“Sometimes-do you ever-Do you ever think about where you and I would have gone after the game station if things had gone differently than they did? What planet or century? I guess, do you ever wonder what if?”
“Yeah,” she admits apologetically.
He offers his sideways smile. “Ever come up with an answer? Someplace you think I'd have liked to bring you?”
“I'm not sure. But...I keep thinking about that transmat system, how we all believed it was a disintegrator that left behind the ashes of a person. Like little piles of sand. It was terrible.”
“Go on,” The Doctor urges.
“Well, I keep thinking you would've taken us some place to...you know. Forget.”
The Doctor stands, digging through his pockets for cash. “I know exactly where that is.”
As they exit the shop, Rose notices the date on a calendar behind the register. It's the fifth of March, the year 2005. Tomorrow, Henrik's is blown up and Rose Tyler meets the Doctor.
-
The Doctor places the TARDIS in orbit around a small planet that seems to be markedly more ocean than land. There are islands-thousands, Rose guesses-dotted across the water. “What's it called?”
“Oh, it's got many names in many, many languages, most of them more difficult to say than Raxacoricofallapatorius. You couldn't pronounce half them. Believe it or not, there are one or two even I find tricky!” The Doctor says all this in one breath. Rose quirks an expectant eyebrow at him when he pauses. “Yeah, anyway, when your people come across it, you call it Lethe.”
“The river of forgetfulness.”
“River of oblivion.” The Doctor directs the TARDIS to land. “The people who first came here gave it the name 'the world time forgot.'”
“Why?”
“Lethe, like my home, is excluded from the laws of time. So long as you're inside the planet's atmosphere, you won't age. There's still day and night and night and day, maybe even a couple of seasons, but you won't age. Time does and doesn't pass.”
The TARDIS settles onto the surface and its doors open gently. As a breeze sweeps through the ship, Rose sighs.
“People foolishly use it to escape, forgetting that each day that time is still ticking outside of Lethe. You don't die, but your family does. Everyone you know and love is dust before you consider leaving. It's only when it's too late that you understand that Lethe is not peaceful. It's without.”
Rose shivers. “Oh.”
“There's little in this great, big universe that's a danger to the typical Time Lord, but Lethe is one of those things. We were warned to not tempt ourselves by coming here.”
“Then why have we?”
The Doctor grins. “I'm far from the typical Time Lord.”
-
Rose follows the Doctor onto the beach. “It's beautiful,” she says, though a shiver snakes down her spine at echo of her voice against the deep quiet.
“Don't be afraid.” They walk toward the shore, and the TARDIS doors close behind them. “Rose?” She tears her gaze from the unending ocean to meet his eyes. “Don't be afraid, okay?”
She nods. “Yeah, okay.”
“I need you to walk that way.” He points to the east. “Follow the shoreline. Walk until you find me again. Don't pause to admire the ocean, just walk.”
“Doctor?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Always.”
“Don't be afraid. Walk.”
-
Rose walks. She walks so far that the TARDIS and the Doctor fall out of her sight. Her only impression of how much time has passed is the dull ache that settles into her legs long before she sees the TARDIS again. Her relief is so great that at first she doesn't note that the TARDIS stands in the wrong direction; the doors face her rather than the ocean.
As she nears the TARDIS, the doors open. Rose catches a glimpse of dark leather. Everything within her gives a start, and she stumbles to a stop, nearly losing her footing. His eyes find her, confusion and hesitation in his expression. “Doctor.” His name catches in her throat, comes out as a sigh. Her muscles and bones and heart scream for her to go to him, to throw herself into his arms, but she stays rooted in her spot.
“Rose Tyler?” The Doctor closes the TARDIS doors behind himself and drops the key into his pocket. Rose knows this Doctor well, so she recognizes his guarded stance. Cautiously, she walks toward him. She remembers the repercussions of saving her father's life and now understands how delicate and complex time can be, but when the Doctor's features fall into a brief and accidental grin, she can't keep her footsteps from falling faster. “I just left you on Earth. I have to ask-Where in the universe did you find a better offer?”
Rose can't help her grin now, her elation is overwhelming. “You undersold your ship.”
“Ah.” He nods knowingly, although Rose can tell he hasn't quite worked out her meaning. As she watches him, his eyes pointedly avoid hers. It's a blessing and a curse, knowing him so well, because she recognizes the heaviness he carries.
“You say you just left me?” She searches his expression for a confirmation of what she suspects.
“Well, just is a vague word.”
“It isn't.” This time, the Doctor's eyes flash with irritation, but Rose presses him. “How long have you been here, Doctor?”
The Doctor spins on his heel and walks toward the shoreline, leaving Rose behind him. By the time she reaches the shore, he's sitting in the sand. His knees are pulled up against his chest, his arms slung loosely over them. She comes to his side and mimics his position. The sun is setting somewhere, and Rose remembers the other Doctor's order: don't admire the ocean. She sees why; it's so boundless and beautiful she could easily lose herself in it.
Rose refocuses her thoughts on the Doctor. She measures time by the Doctor's breathing, the rhythmic inhale and exhale. He shifts in regular intervals. Rose is unsure of exact minutes or hours, but she knows that outside of Lethe, the universe breathes with the Doctor.
-
A number of these cycles later, Rose realizes what she wants to say. “Doctor.” His gaze remains on the ocean. “Doctor, I'm sorry.” For Gallifrey, for your loss, for rejecting your first invitation, for having trouble accepting you now.
“I know.”
She thinks again of the fragility of time, of the risk in the Doctor knowing any of what awaits him, and she knows that somewhere it's March on Earth and in nineteen seconds, he will return with a second offer. But Rose has a terrible image of the Doctor on the shores of Lethe until everything outside it has withered, she imagines this planet withering too and taking the Doctor with it, and she knows she must somehow persuade him to leave. “I-I also want to thank you.”
His eyes snap to hers. For a moment, Rose fears she's spoken too much, but then the Doctor replies, “I suspect that I owe you similar gratitude.” Though his words are genuine, they are also spoken with considerable effort. He's uneasy still, but she knows it's a fear of stepping forward that cripples him. There are questions Rose knows he wants to ask, although he knows better than to do so. Instead he says, “You should-”
Just as she says, “I should-”
“-go.”
“-yeah. Yeah.” The pair stand to face one another, and the gravity of this moment occurs to Rose. When the Doctor took the Time Vortex from her body, she didn't realize it was her last opportunity to talk to him. As she stands before him now, she knows she will never see him again, not this way. “I suppose though, this being my last chance-I-Doctor, I-” He waits expectantly, but Rose fears the possible consequences of her caution in the wind and stops herself.
She takes a step toward him and closes the distance between them. She wraps her arms around his waist and hides her face between his jacket and his chest. The Doctor exhales abruptly as her grip forces the air from his lungs, but he returns her embrace. Perhaps it's merely indulgence, perhaps some Time Lord intuition causes him to respond, but she closes her eyes and fixes every facet of this moment in her memory.
Then she holds the Doctor's hand and leads him to his ship.
As she walks west along the coast, she hears the sound of TARDIS' departure.
-
This time, Rose sees the Doctor before she sees the TARDIS. Night has fallen now, leaving her with a far away moon for light. She keeps close to the tide, looking ahead to the horizon. She knows she's close now. She can feel it.
Then she sees the Doctor coming over a hill. His hands are stuffed in his pockets, and his eyes on the sand as he walks. She feels it then-sincerely and passionately-her love for him, and it propels her forward. She kicks up sand as she runs to him. He glances up just as she collides with him. They fall together, laughing until they ache.
When they quiet, they turn on their sides in the sand to face each other. The Doctor smiles, catching the wild strands of her blonde hair blown about by the wind and curling them around his fingers. “Hello. Rose Tyler.”
“Hello.”
The Doctor and Rose watch one another for awhile, until her eyes are heavy again with sleep. Her hand tucked perfectly within his, they return to the TARDIS.
-
-
Rose wakes in the TARDIS sometime later. Unanticipated joy warms her bones as she winds her way through the ship's passages. This TARDIS is still new, she's still learning to navigate it. At last, she finds the entryway and the Doctor. He's beneath the console, examining the TARDIS' hidden gadgets. He's still familiarizing himself with the ship too.
At the sound of her footsteps, he crawls out from below the console to greet her. “Good morning!” He has a bit of a strange accent, one that's particularly strong in the morning when he hasn't yet had much use for his voice. Rose loves it as much as she loves his increasingly untamed hair. It isn't until the Doctor frowns that she realizes she's staring. “You're scrutinizing again,” he chides.
She shakes her head. “No. Never.” He quirks an eyebrow. “Okay. A little,” she confesses with a laugh.
“I thought so.” He grins at her in the way only the Doctor can. “Where to first, Rose? This universe is all-new. Well, when I say all-new-”
“Anywhere. Anytime. We have a lifetime of adventures to pursue.” Rose takes the Doctor's hand. It fits, as it always has. “And you know what? It's going to be fantastic.”