Voyages of Discovery (Chapter Seven)
Mar. 30th, 2007 08:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kalleahWow, a lot of cynicism over the events of the last chapter. It's a very Doctorish response. I suspect many of you have been badly burned by getting your hopes up before, eh?
Previous Chapters
"Looking back, I have this to regret, that too often when I loved, I did not say so."
David Grayson
When Rose's feet touched the ground again, she turned her face up toward the Doctor's and kissed him, first sweetly, then more passionately as he responded. When they separated, Rose for one needing to breathe, he touched her still-damp cheek and traced a long finger along the trail a tear had made.
"It's really you," he said, amazement colouring his voice. "Rose Tyler." He grinned impishly from ear to ear and hugged her tightly again.
"It's me," she said. "I don't know how, but I'm here." She nuzzled into his neck and inhaled deeply, letting his remembered scent flow through her, so familiar and precious.
"You don't know how you got here?" asked the Doctor, curiously, his voice a rumble in her ear.
"I was in hospital, with Mum and Pete. Mum was in labour. I left the room while they were talking to the doctor and there was this door into a courtyard, a waiting area or whatever. I opened it, and I saw this place. For a minute I was still in the hospital but right here." For a moment, raw pain and guilt spiked through her whole body and she tried to numb herself, to put the choice she had made into a back corner of her mind to be analyzed at a later time.
He released her and studied her carefully, as if she were a piece of a very large puzzle. He reached into a pocket, withdrew, predictably, the sonic screwdriver, and started fiddling with some dials. Rose batted his hand away from his toy.
"Stop that," she said, exasperated. "The first thing you want to do is scan me to figure out how I got here?"
The Doctor, looking chagrined and a little hurt, looked down at her through long lashes and said, "It was the second thing, really. No, the third. I hugged you, then I kissed you, then I wanted to scan you."
"No, first you said I was impossible. Then I pinched you, then I kissed you."
"Well, yes, if you want to be precise about it," he mumbled. He nodded his head at the sonic screwdriver. "Mind if I take a look?"
Count to ten. "Go ahead," she shrugged after a significant pause. He waved the screwdriver up and down in her direction, reviewed whatever data it provided him, and frowned. "What?"
"Nothing," he said, puzzled, adjusting his glasses and squinting at the display.
"What do you mean, nothing?"
"I mean exactly that. Nothing. As in nothing out of the ordinary. You're human, temperature thirty-seven degrees, heart and respiratory rate slightly elevated. Other than that, nothing unusual."
"That's good, right?"
"There has to be something," he muttered, glaring at the offending instrument. "You just walked across the Void from an alternate universe. That isn't nothing."
"Double negative?" she joked, trying for some humor. He looked more confused. "Is not nothing. Double negative. Oh, never mind."
Unmoved by the allure of a grammar argument, formerly a source of endless entertainment, the Doctor continued to stare at the betraying screwdriver. "Well," he finally said, brightening, "I can do some testing in the TARDIS. Come on!" He took Rose's hand and began to tow her along but she ground her feet in and stayed resolutely still. The Doctor looked back and took note of her thunderous expression. "Rather," he said, scratching the back of his neck and backtracking rapidly, "We could, erm, take a walk in the gardens? Sit for a while? Have some tea?" He looked helplessly at her. "Rose?"
"You're more interested in how I got here than you are that I'm here at all!" she fairly shouted at him, her frustration momentarily boiling over.
He cringed, then gave her a sheepish look. "Sorry," he said, in a small voice, quite unlike him, and tucked both glasses and sonic screwdriver into a pocket. Rose immediately relented and put her arms around him. "You're not cross with me, are you?" he asked, worriedly.
"No. Just stop with the scans for a while, yeah?" He nodded into her hair.
"I can't believe I'm here either," she went on. "But we don't have to understand everything, do we?"
For a moment, he looked as if he were about to contradict her, but he restrained himself with a visible force of will. "I'm glad you're here. Rose. You're here." He radiated nervous energy, bouncing up and down on tiptoes. She reached up and pressed her palm against one cheek, her gesture calming and familiar. He turned and kissed it without breaking eye contact. His brown eyes were wide and deep, laugh lines crinkled in the corners.
She wondered how much laughing he'd been doing lately. "You've been all right?" she asked, more than a little worried.
"Jacob's helped," he said, smiling.
Relieved, she squeezed his hand. "I wasn't sure you'd come back here," she said quietly. "I hoped."
"I wasn't sure either," he admitted. He looked up at the open sky and tugged on one earlobe. "I kept setting the coordinates and pacing around the console room. Eventually I just gave in."
"Are you," she hesitated, wanting the answer and yet not, "traveling with anyone?"
"Not right now," he said. "I was, for a while. I mean, there's Jacob, of course."
She was relieved to find this didn't bother her; quite the reverse, in fact. "Good." She poked him in the breastbone with one finger. "You shouldn't be alone." His eyes shuttered slightly, and she winced to see that expression on his face again. "Oi, remember, no shutting me out?"
"I remember." This time, his smile didn't meet his eyes. She saw guilt, fear, loneliness, and a stark longing slide across his face in waves of raw emotion.
"We're not starting that all over again?" She felt a moment of cold fear. "Are we?"
"It hurt," he said, swallowing hard, not looking away from her face.
Rose reached up with one hand and touched his cheek, letting two fingers trace his skin. Underneath her fingertips, she felt a prickling burr from his stubble, strongest around jaw and above his thin upper lip. His eyes were clear, the white contrasting with the deep coffee of his irises, shadowed by long lashes. She lightly outlined the puff of lines underneath his eyes, not quite dark, but not tempered with enough sleep. His eyebrows rose to twin, opposite points, slightly asymmetrical. From there, she ran her finger down the line of his long, straight nose to his pink, full lower lip. The entire time, his eyes never shifted from hers, watching without expression or comment, letting her look her fill and touch him as she wanted.
At long last she withdrew her hand, moved it to his shoulder, squeezed gently. "I'm so sorry," she said heavily.
His eyes widened slightly and he tilted his head to one side, puzzlement clouding his face. "Whatever for?"
"That you hurt. That I let go. That I wasn't with you when I said I would be."
"Oh, Rose," he said, with infinite patience. "You don't really think this is your fault, do you?" He gave her a piercing look and shook his head. "You do. Of all the --" He sucked in a long breath. "Rose Tyler, don't be daft. Did you mean to let go of the lever?"
"No, of course not. I --"
He had no intention of letting her finish. "Would you have rather fallen into the Void, then?" His voice shook with frustration. "I put you in danger. I knew it could be suicide. If Pete hadn't --" He stopped, seemingly unable to say the words, and then rushed on. "If Pete hadn't come right then, you would have fallen into the Void, Rose. When I said it was like hell, I meant all of the images of what you conceive as hell were formed from ideas of what the Void is really like. You could have been there and I couldn't do a damned thing but watch you fall and scream your name." He ran his hand through his hair, and Rose noticed that the hand was trembling as he moved it. "Seeing you on the beach in Norway was a relief, Rose. It meant you were alive and safe despite my world-class mucking up of things."
"You won," she said. "We sealed the Rift and saved two universes. Locked Daleks and Cybermen in the Void."
"We did that," he admitted. "But you were almost right there with them." He brushed her hair back from one side of her face and let his fingers whisper against her cheek. "Rose, I would have shattered the Rift and both universes to get you out of there." He shuddered, from the top of his head to his toes, and she saw for a fleeting moment the ravages and terror he would have unleashed for her sake. It terrified and exhilarated her at the same time. I could save the world but lose you. How much they had both changed, and how little.
"Doctor," she said, her own voice sounding far-away and tinny in her ears. He stood close enough for her to feel the rapid double thump of his hearts, the catch of his breath. She looked directly at him, forcing herself to straighten her spine and stand up tall. "Was it worth it?" she asked, deliberately echoing her words to him so long ago, hearing serenity and poise that she did not feel in her words.
His face broke, and he pulled her to him again, whispering over and over into her ear, "Rose, oh yes. My Rose. My Rose."
Previous Chapters
"Looking back, I have this to regret, that too often when I loved, I did not say so."
David Grayson
When Rose's feet touched the ground again, she turned her face up toward the Doctor's and kissed him, first sweetly, then more passionately as he responded. When they separated, Rose for one needing to breathe, he touched her still-damp cheek and traced a long finger along the trail a tear had made.
"It's really you," he said, amazement colouring his voice. "Rose Tyler." He grinned impishly from ear to ear and hugged her tightly again.
"It's me," she said. "I don't know how, but I'm here." She nuzzled into his neck and inhaled deeply, letting his remembered scent flow through her, so familiar and precious.
"You don't know how you got here?" asked the Doctor, curiously, his voice a rumble in her ear.
"I was in hospital, with Mum and Pete. Mum was in labour. I left the room while they were talking to the doctor and there was this door into a courtyard, a waiting area or whatever. I opened it, and I saw this place. For a minute I was still in the hospital but right here." For a moment, raw pain and guilt spiked through her whole body and she tried to numb herself, to put the choice she had made into a back corner of her mind to be analyzed at a later time.
He released her and studied her carefully, as if she were a piece of a very large puzzle. He reached into a pocket, withdrew, predictably, the sonic screwdriver, and started fiddling with some dials. Rose batted his hand away from his toy.
"Stop that," she said, exasperated. "The first thing you want to do is scan me to figure out how I got here?"
The Doctor, looking chagrined and a little hurt, looked down at her through long lashes and said, "It was the second thing, really. No, the third. I hugged you, then I kissed you, then I wanted to scan you."
"No, first you said I was impossible. Then I pinched you, then I kissed you."
"Well, yes, if you want to be precise about it," he mumbled. He nodded his head at the sonic screwdriver. "Mind if I take a look?"
Count to ten. "Go ahead," she shrugged after a significant pause. He waved the screwdriver up and down in her direction, reviewed whatever data it provided him, and frowned. "What?"
"Nothing," he said, puzzled, adjusting his glasses and squinting at the display.
"What do you mean, nothing?"
"I mean exactly that. Nothing. As in nothing out of the ordinary. You're human, temperature thirty-seven degrees, heart and respiratory rate slightly elevated. Other than that, nothing unusual."
"That's good, right?"
"There has to be something," he muttered, glaring at the offending instrument. "You just walked across the Void from an alternate universe. That isn't nothing."
"Double negative?" she joked, trying for some humor. He looked more confused. "Is not nothing. Double negative. Oh, never mind."
Unmoved by the allure of a grammar argument, formerly a source of endless entertainment, the Doctor continued to stare at the betraying screwdriver. "Well," he finally said, brightening, "I can do some testing in the TARDIS. Come on!" He took Rose's hand and began to tow her along but she ground her feet in and stayed resolutely still. The Doctor looked back and took note of her thunderous expression. "Rather," he said, scratching the back of his neck and backtracking rapidly, "We could, erm, take a walk in the gardens? Sit for a while? Have some tea?" He looked helplessly at her. "Rose?"
"You're more interested in how I got here than you are that I'm here at all!" she fairly shouted at him, her frustration momentarily boiling over.
He cringed, then gave her a sheepish look. "Sorry," he said, in a small voice, quite unlike him, and tucked both glasses and sonic screwdriver into a pocket. Rose immediately relented and put her arms around him. "You're not cross with me, are you?" he asked, worriedly.
"No. Just stop with the scans for a while, yeah?" He nodded into her hair.
"I can't believe I'm here either," she went on. "But we don't have to understand everything, do we?"
For a moment, he looked as if he were about to contradict her, but he restrained himself with a visible force of will. "I'm glad you're here. Rose. You're here." He radiated nervous energy, bouncing up and down on tiptoes. She reached up and pressed her palm against one cheek, her gesture calming and familiar. He turned and kissed it without breaking eye contact. His brown eyes were wide and deep, laugh lines crinkled in the corners.
She wondered how much laughing he'd been doing lately. "You've been all right?" she asked, more than a little worried.
"Jacob's helped," he said, smiling.
Relieved, she squeezed his hand. "I wasn't sure you'd come back here," she said quietly. "I hoped."
"I wasn't sure either," he admitted. He looked up at the open sky and tugged on one earlobe. "I kept setting the coordinates and pacing around the console room. Eventually I just gave in."
"Are you," she hesitated, wanting the answer and yet not, "traveling with anyone?"
"Not right now," he said. "I was, for a while. I mean, there's Jacob, of course."
She was relieved to find this didn't bother her; quite the reverse, in fact. "Good." She poked him in the breastbone with one finger. "You shouldn't be alone." His eyes shuttered slightly, and she winced to see that expression on his face again. "Oi, remember, no shutting me out?"
"I remember." This time, his smile didn't meet his eyes. She saw guilt, fear, loneliness, and a stark longing slide across his face in waves of raw emotion.
"We're not starting that all over again?" She felt a moment of cold fear. "Are we?"
"It hurt," he said, swallowing hard, not looking away from her face.
Rose reached up with one hand and touched his cheek, letting two fingers trace his skin. Underneath her fingertips, she felt a prickling burr from his stubble, strongest around jaw and above his thin upper lip. His eyes were clear, the white contrasting with the deep coffee of his irises, shadowed by long lashes. She lightly outlined the puff of lines underneath his eyes, not quite dark, but not tempered with enough sleep. His eyebrows rose to twin, opposite points, slightly asymmetrical. From there, she ran her finger down the line of his long, straight nose to his pink, full lower lip. The entire time, his eyes never shifted from hers, watching without expression or comment, letting her look her fill and touch him as she wanted.
At long last she withdrew her hand, moved it to his shoulder, squeezed gently. "I'm so sorry," she said heavily.
His eyes widened slightly and he tilted his head to one side, puzzlement clouding his face. "Whatever for?"
"That you hurt. That I let go. That I wasn't with you when I said I would be."
"Oh, Rose," he said, with infinite patience. "You don't really think this is your fault, do you?" He gave her a piercing look and shook his head. "You do. Of all the --" He sucked in a long breath. "Rose Tyler, don't be daft. Did you mean to let go of the lever?"
"No, of course not. I --"
He had no intention of letting her finish. "Would you have rather fallen into the Void, then?" His voice shook with frustration. "I put you in danger. I knew it could be suicide. If Pete hadn't --" He stopped, seemingly unable to say the words, and then rushed on. "If Pete hadn't come right then, you would have fallen into the Void, Rose. When I said it was like hell, I meant all of the images of what you conceive as hell were formed from ideas of what the Void is really like. You could have been there and I couldn't do a damned thing but watch you fall and scream your name." He ran his hand through his hair, and Rose noticed that the hand was trembling as he moved it. "Seeing you on the beach in Norway was a relief, Rose. It meant you were alive and safe despite my world-class mucking up of things."
"You won," she said. "We sealed the Rift and saved two universes. Locked Daleks and Cybermen in the Void."
"We did that," he admitted. "But you were almost right there with them." He brushed her hair back from one side of her face and let his fingers whisper against her cheek. "Rose, I would have shattered the Rift and both universes to get you out of there." He shuddered, from the top of his head to his toes, and she saw for a fleeting moment the ravages and terror he would have unleashed for her sake. It terrified and exhilarated her at the same time. I could save the world but lose you. How much they had both changed, and how little.
"Doctor," she said, her own voice sounding far-away and tinny in her ears. He stood close enough for her to feel the rapid double thump of his hearts, the catch of his breath. She looked directly at him, forcing herself to straighten her spine and stand up tall. "Was it worth it?" she asked, deliberately echoing her words to him so long ago, hearing serenity and poise that she did not feel in her words.
His face broke, and he pulled her to him again, whispering over and over into her ear, "Rose, oh yes. My Rose. My Rose."
