Hand in the Dark [RP for aces_are_rare]

[timewill_tell]

It was nearing dusk as the Doctor and and Ace walked away from the small village, home to the Trelek people. It was a small planet, harboring only that small village, and a diverse variety of flora and fauna, but as planets went, it was one of the more unremarkable ones the Doctor had encountered. In fact, he was certain he'd never even been there

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[aces_are_rare]

Ace remembered the pain that had ripped through her when Manisha had died, and knew that it would be even worse if the Professor fell to this disease. She could tell him that, though. She refused to say anything that would make him worry about her, and he would worry if he understood what his dying would do to her. And it would be a death, no matter what he'd explained to her about regeneration. The Doctor would still exist but the Professor would be dead and that might be even harder to cope with

[aces_are_rare]

"I'm not incredible. I'm just me." As usual Ace felt slightly uncomfortable with the praise. Her explosions, even her brains, she could take a compliment well (even demand one, on occasion) but other things... it was just weird. She was doing nothing more then he would for her, if their places were switched.

"Nutter," she said under her breath, but with a smile. The blanket had fallen and she tucked it around him carefully before moving closer to sit facing him, her legs crossed. Absently she played with one of his hands.

"Did we decide on the gallery? Something light playing on the boombox - jazz, or maybe some Beatles. Tea and scones and I think we'll have custard tarts too. You're going to read to me, tempt me into liking another poet, and then I'm going to tempt you into putting down your book." She leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss against his lips that was a dim echo of what she really wanted.

[timewill_tell]

The kiss lingered pleasantly on his lips, and he smiled at her, running his fingers over her hand. It sounded like a wonderful time, and he was looking forward to it so much, he was half-tempted to stumble out of this bed and make a go of it now. If only he had the strength. In time, he realized, all in time. For now, they were here, and he was going to get better

[aces_are_rare]

"Idiot. You're the one who s... Professor? Professor!" Ace's heart froze. Like a rag doll the Doctor had suddenly gone limp. One second smiling, the next just... nothing. No expression, closed eyes, no sound.

"What did you do?" she growled at the TARDIS. The drink was suppose to make him better. He was supposed to be okay now. Fearfully she leaned forward, her ear pressed to his chest, her fingers finding the pulse at his neck. His hearts were still beating, his lungs still moving in and out, but that was the only sign of life.

"Wake up, damn you. I wasn't done telling you about our date. I'm not done." She took hold of his shoulders and shook. Nothing. Pinched his upper arm. Nothing. Pried open one eyelid. Nothing. Feeling helpless she simply sat there, starring at him. Dimly she heard the clock in the room chime the hour once, and then again. He still hadn't moved

[timewill_tell]

The TARDIS had thought desperately of any to calm and reassure Ace, but nothing could be done. While the ship knew her Doctor would be fine, she thought it must be agonizing for the human woman, who loved him so, to sit beside him and wonder if he would ever wake. She had even tried infiltrating his mind once more, to force him to consciousness, but his body refused to awaken until it was fully healed.

Shortly after the glass had shattered against the wall, the Doctor's hands curled against the blankets. He drew in two deep breaths and blinked his eyes rapidly, adjusting to the light. Turning his head, the Doctor looked at Ace and smiled. Of course, he had no recollection that he'd been unconscious for a day and a half. He did know that he felt fully healed from the toxin, however, and sat up triumphantly.

"Ace, I'm healed," he grinned, though his grin suddenly turned to a frown when he realized just how haggard and weary she looked. His concern grew when he took in the paleness of her skin, the dark circles under her eyes.

"Ace?"

[aces_are_rare]

"Professor." Exhausted and hoarse, the word came out as a whisper. Ace blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to convince herself that what she was seeing was real.

"You're awake." Awake and breathing and clear eyed. He was smiling, or had been. Why was he frowning now? And why was he spinning? She wanted to get a good look at him, but he wouldn't stay still.

"You shouldn't..." Days of worry, stress, not enough sleep and too little food finally caught up with Ace. It was sheer luck that she fell forward, onto the bed, and not back to the floor.

[timewill_tell]

As quickly as he so often punched coordinates into the TARDIS console, the Doctor bolted out from under the covers, his frown deepening, his hearts quickening with fear and worry. For a brief, terrifying moment, he wondered if she'd somehow gotten ill--even though he knew it wasn't contagious--and his hand went to her forehead. She wasn't any warmer than usual, but she was slightly clammy, likely a result of lack of sleep. The Doctor took a breath to calm himself, though the worry didn't abate. His arms maneuvered carefully to slip around her, and he deposited her gently against his pillows. Scrutinizing her face, he realized what had happened: she'd been looking after him, completely neglecting herself in the process. Though he chided her violently in his mind, that was the only place he would admonish her. He would've been the same way, and had every intention of remaining here until she got the rest she needed

[aces_are_rare]

Ace slept deeply for hours, the first real restful sleep she'd had since the morning they left for Treleka, a week ago. Unlike her usual sleep she didn't move, didn't thrash around in the bed - or in her mind. She didn't dream at all until just before sleep released its hold on her.

She dreamed of sunshine and a bright orange sky, an old fashioned swing hanging from a silver tree. Back and forth she flew, her bare feet being tickled by the long grass that grew at the base of the tree. She didn't stop pumping until she looked down and noticed the Professor leaning against the tree, his head bare. He was smiling at her.

"Professor," she murmured as dream and waking merged. Never one to awaken easily she kept her eyes closed while she stretched, not opening them until memories came flooding back. Her eyes flew open and she bolted upright.

"Professor!"

[timewill_tell]

The Doctor had been monitoring her carefully, observing minute changes in her breathing to anticipate her return to consciousness; although, he hadn't expected her to awaken so abruptly. And she almost sounded a bit tense. In response, he tightened his hold on her, stroking his hand down her head

[aces_are_rare]

Ace looked into his eyes; his deep clear knowledgeable eyes. These were not words spoken in delusional fever or helpless fear. He was, by his own promise, healed and healthy. She had no choice but to believe

[timewill_tell]

"Yes," he smiled, quite pleased, and took her hand. With his free hand, he grabbed his white shirt, the one Ace had draped over a chair days ago, when he'd first taken ill. He dropped her hand briefly to loop his arms through the sleeves, then took her hand again, squeezing it tightly. Once they'd made it to the kitchen, the Doctor immediately busied himself with making the soup. He was so focused on his task that he didn't bother buttoning his shirt; and perhaps his disregard for his somewhat exposed appearance had something to do with the depth their relationship now had, the comfort and familiarity now between them. The soup turned out heartier than he'd anticipated, though really, chicken and dumplings wasn't a traditional soup at all. He added a few dashes of special spices, humming quietly as his busy hands cut and stirred the ingredients. At last, he placed two heaping, steaming bowls on the table. He was quite famished himself, and wasted no time in taking a bite

[aces_are_rare]

Despite her hunger Ace only poked at the soup, stirring it absently with her spoon. Her mind was too full, her emotions frazzled. Though she knew that she should be happy now that the Professor was so obviously recovered, she was feeling... she wasn't feeling. She was numb. She felt as if she was wrapped in cotton wool, hearing the Professor speak but not quite feeling his words. It was completely naff. He was sitting across from her, his shirt unbuttoned, his hand touching hers; at any other time she might have thought her fantasies had all come true (or at least the ones she could talk about in the light of day) but all she could think of was him, lying on the bed, not moving

[timewill_tell]

Ever perceptive, the Doctor noticed Ace's silence. He was pleased that she'd finally eaten her bowl of soup, but unsettled by her lack of words. Thinking on it, he supposed it was far easier for him to dismiss what had happened as simply a bad event that could be moved on from. But he had been the sick one, not the one having to watch. The Doctor pushed his own bowl of soup away; he would worry about cleaning up later. Ace was his priority now. Standing, he pulled her up gently from her chair by taking her hands, and wrapped her up tightly in his arms, tucking her head into the crook of his neck.

"I don't intend to go anywhere that is far from you, Ace," he murmured against her head. "All is well now, but it wasn't...it didn't seem to be, for a little while there, did it?"

Holding her there for another minute or two, he pulled away, framing her face in his hands and looking directly into her eyes.

"What can I do, Ace? Tell me what I can do for you now," he insisted, stroking her cheekbones.

[aces_are_rare]

Promise me you won't ever leave me. But he couldn't promise that, and she couldn't ask. It would only hurt him if she did

Make me forget what it felt like, being helpless. But she wouldn't want to forget, not really. As much as it had hurt she would never give up a moment of time with him. She couldn't give up the memory of being called beloved.

Remind me that you're alive. That we both are. She was still afraid that this was a dream, that the tea she had brewed had failed. She could have picked the wrong flower, plucked the wrong leaves. Maybe she was imagining his hands on her cheeks, the gentle touch, the tender concern in his eyes. He was worried about her. That was the first emotion to penetrate the fog she was walking in

[timewill_tell]

He wasn't quite satisfied with that answer, but it was enough for now. She needed to be occupied in some way, and he understood that. The Doctor wished she would talk to him about what she felt, what she might have been keeping buried under the surface, but it was enough for now. He took one of her hands and led her to the TARDIS garden. It was a leisurely stroll, and he tried to keep things as light as possible, whistling an offbeat tune as they walked. When they'd reached the garden, he took in the sight with a deep, pleased sigh, always content to look upon the flora.

"It's hardly much of a mess," he noted, though perhaps he was being a little more kind than usual. Still, he knelt down, running the dirt through his fingers, and loving the sensation.

"You never did answer my question, Ace. When is our date? I believe we're both due a nice time after this...debacle. Shall I cook dinner as well?"

[aces_are_rare]

The area where she had ripped the flower up by its roots was the most noticeably damaged, and Ace sat down next to the flowers. She worked her fingers into the earth, covering the roots she had exposed, moving a few of the plants a little to hide the hole where the one had been. Not until she was content that it look right did she wipe her dirty fingers on the grass and sit back. She pulled her legs in tight to her chest and rested her head on her knees, turned to face him. Her hair, long since fallen out of its braid, framed her face. She smiled wistfully