Voyages of Discovery (Chapter Eleven)
Apr. 3rd, 2007 09:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kalleahA return to the TARDIS, and an important determination about the future.
Previous Chapters
Previous Chapters
"The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery every day. Never lose a holy curiosity."
Albert Einstein
Rose collected her discarded clothes and put them back on. The Doctor spent an inordinate amount of time shaking out his own clothes, fussing slightly over the wrinkles in his trousers and smoothing down imaginary creases in his jacket, as if someone else were responsible for the haphazard way they had been piled in the floor.
"You could go back to the jumper and leather jacket," she suggested. "No ironing."
He gave her an exasperated look. "Really, Rose, don't be ridiculous. They're far too big for me now." She shook her head in wonder. His sense of logic, at times, was beyond argument.
Outside, the quarter moon gave enough light for Rose to avoid falling over anything larger than a breadbox, but she put an arm through the Doctor's and let him guide her. She wasn't sure how much better his vision was than her own, with the glasses, but there was no denying he navigated far better in the low light than she could.
At the familiar sight of the blue police box atop the low rise, her breath caught in her throat and she was rendered speechless all over again. They approached, and the Doctor stood waiting, looking expectantly at her. She fished the chain bearing the TARDIS key out of her shirt and undid the clasp, fitting the key into the lock and opening the door. Immediately, she replaced the chain around her neck, surprised to find how naked she had felt without the familiar weight of the key in the hollow below her throat.
The green glow of the console room beckoned her in, and she stepped inside with a sense of reverence and wonder. She touched one hand lightly against the doorjamb. "Hello, girl," she whispered. "I'm home."
Everything was just as she remembered. She smelled the astringent twang of metal and the faint whiff of machine oil. The Time Rotor stood implacably in the center of the room, wires curving like tentacles into the ribbed ceiling. The worn captain's chair to one side looked as if a good kick would send it flying. It was all gloriously dilapidated and piecemeal, and more beloved than anything except the Doctor, who had entered behind her and stood quietly, letting her look her fill. She reached out a hand and felt him take it, fingers fitting into hers with surety.
"This is good," Rose said finally, happiness welling up inside her. "Really fantastic."
He beamed at her, seeming pleased all over again with her reaction to his beloved ship. "She's glad to see you, too."
"But not surprised?" she ventured.
"Not nearly as much as I was. She's quicker on the uptake."
Rose laughed. "I'd say. I didn't have to pinch her to get her to recognize me."
"You don't have to agree quite so readily," he protested with a fleeting sulk. "And you say I'm the rude one."
"You are the rude one," Rose told him affectionately. "Let's get my things." They walked hand in hand down a short corridor to her room. In fact, it was exactly as she had left it, bed unmade, clothes scattered around untidily, door to the bathroom slightly ajar. She turned and gave the Doctor a wan smile. "You didn't touch a thing, did you?"
"No," he said, and sat down on the edge of the bed, watching her.
"Just as well," she said. "I never know where you put things, anyway." She opened a drawer and scooped out some clothes, which she tossed carelessly into a rucksack that she found at the foot of the bed. The Doctor made a disapproving sound, promptly dumped everything back out onto the bed, and began neatly folding shirts, jeans, and other bits of clothing. "Have it your way," said Rose, amused, and retreated to the bathroom to collect her toiletries.
There, she found some evidence of his presence, as she never left the caps to her shampoo and conditioner off, and all of the bottles were arranged in a straight line with the caps next to them. She winced at the image of him alone in this small room, clutching a bottle and inhaling deeply. We don't need to talk about everything, she thought.
She returned, dropped her things to the rucksack atop the newly folded stacks of clothing, and shrugged the bag onto her shoulder. "Further up and further in," she said.
"Dare I mention it," he offered cautiously, rubbing the back of his neck, "but while we're here, we could, perhaps, if you're willing, stop and do a few scans."
"Wondered when you were going to bring that up again. Sure, why not?" He looked relieved and she followed him to the med lab, where she put down the rucksack and sat on the exam table, swinging her legs while he rummaged for the appropriate gadgets.
He brought out a white scanner and put on his glasses before waving the device purposefully in her direction and frowning at the results. "You look quite the mad professor," she observed dryly.
"What's that?" he asked absently, studying the scanner.
"Never mind."
He made several disapproving, clucking sounds and traded the scanner for another, more ostentatious gadget with a large display screen and several removable wands that he wiggled around and then gently poked her with. She stuck out her tongue and said "ah," but even that failed to amuse him. At last, she gave in and asked what he saw.
"Nothing," he said, visibly annoyed. His brow wrinkled and he squinted at the display, even through his glasses.
"Thirty seven degrees, heart rate and respiration slightly elevated?" she guessed.
"No, your heart rate and respiration are just fine," he said, apparently missing (or ignoring) her attempt at humour. He checked the readout on a display mounted on the wall and pursed his lips at it in continued displeasure. Rose scooted forward and hopped off the exam table, coming up behind him and putting her arms around his waist.
"It's all right if it takes some time," she said. "You'll get it, I know you will. Leave it for now."
"If I can't even tell you how you got here," he said, patiently, "I can't very well help you send a message to your mum, can I?"
"Is that it, then?"
"I'm curious, yes, if that's what you mean. You just appeared out of nowhere, which is quite impossible, and I can't explain it. Yes, that bothers me a great deal. There's no temporal or spatial disturbance, other than what I can account for with the TARDIS. No breach, no rift, no evidence of anything unusual. There's the Void stuff, but you had that before, and so do I for that matter." He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, tugging it up into wild, bushy tufts.
"You'll figure it out," she reiterated, quite sure of herself, or rather, of him. "As long as you're sure we're all safe." She paused and he gave her a quick, self-assured nod. "Come on, let's go back."
He let her tow him out of the med lab and back to the console room, where she patted the TARDIS's wall affectionately. "See you soon, girl," she assured the wall, and felt a warm buzz in return.
When he went to lock the TARDIS door behind them, she had to ask. "Isn't it a bit cynical to lock the door when we're in a monastery?"
"Oh, one can never be too careful," he chided. "It's a time machine, after all. And besides, I don't want anyone messing with my things. Except you, rather." He grabbed her hand and twirled her in close against him, planting a sloppy kiss on her lips. "Actually, I've almost talked Jacob into coming to the med lab," he confided.
"Seriously?" questioned Rose, astounded.
"Well, not exactly, but I did persuade him to let me scan him and clear up a few issues," said the Doctor proudly. "He's got the heart and lungs of a man half his age now."
Rose was skeptical. The monk had a holy aversion to the Doctor's implements, nearly as much as the Doctor had a holy aversion to Jacob's prayer services. "You persuaded him?"
"I'll have you know I am a master of persuasion," he said, all ruffled dignity. "He didn't stand a chance."
"I see," she said, grinning impishly. Then, a sudden thought struck her. "Could you do the same thing for me?"
"What, use my vast powers of persuasion?"
"No, the med lab stuff, keep me healthy and all."
He regarded her steadily. "There are reasons I haven't suggested it before," he said finally. "If you go back to your own timeline with any medical help from the future, it could cause … complications, for you and for the timeline." She nodded. "With Jacob — well, it's a bit different, here, with no one else to take a close look at him."
"But," she said, and felt a slight chill despite the warmth of the evening, "I'm not going back to my own timeline, remember?"
He didn't answer for several heartbeats, and she thought he might ignore her statement altogether. At last, he spoke quietly, intensely. "Wherever you go, you'll be out of time."
"So it won't do me any more harm for you to help me out," she pointed out.
"It's very final, Rose," he said in a hushed tone. "No going back, ever."
For a fleeting moment, he looked so much older than his youthful face implied, carrying the weight of all his long centuries upon him. Now, she asked him to help her keep the despair and anguish at bay, for as long as she could. "Let me protect you."
His astonishment was plain, from the sudden straightening of his spine, to the creasing of his forehead, to the widening of his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, completely bewildered. "What?"
"Let me protect you," she soothed him. "You don't ever let anyone take care of you, not even me. I want to help. You don't have to be alone, Doctor. I'm here and I want to be with you."
"What if it's all undone?" he asked, giving voice to the deeper fear she held, the one she had not even let come to the surface amidst her worry about her family and the damage she might have done. "What if there's another doorway?"
"If there's a doorway, I won't go through," she stated baldly. "I'm staying and that's final."
The Doctor, at his most darkly Doctorish, stared back at her with skepticism and not a little fear written in the lines around his eyes. She met him stare for stare, the force of it exhausting. At last, he let out a tense breath, nodding in assent. His shoulders relaxed and the stormy expression on his face faded into relief. She enveloped him in a gripping embrace. He, who hugged everyone impulsively, was momentarily awkward, one hand coming up to pat her gingerly on the back.
At last, she felt his whole body soften. "All right, then," he murmured. He rested his forehead against hers, their breath mingling, arms wrapped tightly around one another, with the blue police box standing guard behind them.
Albert Einstein
Rose collected her discarded clothes and put them back on. The Doctor spent an inordinate amount of time shaking out his own clothes, fussing slightly over the wrinkles in his trousers and smoothing down imaginary creases in his jacket, as if someone else were responsible for the haphazard way they had been piled in the floor.
"You could go back to the jumper and leather jacket," she suggested. "No ironing."
He gave her an exasperated look. "Really, Rose, don't be ridiculous. They're far too big for me now." She shook her head in wonder. His sense of logic, at times, was beyond argument.
Outside, the quarter moon gave enough light for Rose to avoid falling over anything larger than a breadbox, but she put an arm through the Doctor's and let him guide her. She wasn't sure how much better his vision was than her own, with the glasses, but there was no denying he navigated far better in the low light than she could.
At the familiar sight of the blue police box atop the low rise, her breath caught in her throat and she was rendered speechless all over again. They approached, and the Doctor stood waiting, looking expectantly at her. She fished the chain bearing the TARDIS key out of her shirt and undid the clasp, fitting the key into the lock and opening the door. Immediately, she replaced the chain around her neck, surprised to find how naked she had felt without the familiar weight of the key in the hollow below her throat.
The green glow of the console room beckoned her in, and she stepped inside with a sense of reverence and wonder. She touched one hand lightly against the doorjamb. "Hello, girl," she whispered. "I'm home."
Everything was just as she remembered. She smelled the astringent twang of metal and the faint whiff of machine oil. The Time Rotor stood implacably in the center of the room, wires curving like tentacles into the ribbed ceiling. The worn captain's chair to one side looked as if a good kick would send it flying. It was all gloriously dilapidated and piecemeal, and more beloved than anything except the Doctor, who had entered behind her and stood quietly, letting her look her fill. She reached out a hand and felt him take it, fingers fitting into hers with surety.
"This is good," Rose said finally, happiness welling up inside her. "Really fantastic."
He beamed at her, seeming pleased all over again with her reaction to his beloved ship. "She's glad to see you, too."
"But not surprised?" she ventured.
"Not nearly as much as I was. She's quicker on the uptake."
Rose laughed. "I'd say. I didn't have to pinch her to get her to recognize me."
"You don't have to agree quite so readily," he protested with a fleeting sulk. "And you say I'm the rude one."
"You are the rude one," Rose told him affectionately. "Let's get my things." They walked hand in hand down a short corridor to her room. In fact, it was exactly as she had left it, bed unmade, clothes scattered around untidily, door to the bathroom slightly ajar. She turned and gave the Doctor a wan smile. "You didn't touch a thing, did you?"
"No," he said, and sat down on the edge of the bed, watching her.
"Just as well," she said. "I never know where you put things, anyway." She opened a drawer and scooped out some clothes, which she tossed carelessly into a rucksack that she found at the foot of the bed. The Doctor made a disapproving sound, promptly dumped everything back out onto the bed, and began neatly folding shirts, jeans, and other bits of clothing. "Have it your way," said Rose, amused, and retreated to the bathroom to collect her toiletries.
There, she found some evidence of his presence, as she never left the caps to her shampoo and conditioner off, and all of the bottles were arranged in a straight line with the caps next to them. She winced at the image of him alone in this small room, clutching a bottle and inhaling deeply. We don't need to talk about everything, she thought.
She returned, dropped her things to the rucksack atop the newly folded stacks of clothing, and shrugged the bag onto her shoulder. "Further up and further in," she said.
"Dare I mention it," he offered cautiously, rubbing the back of his neck, "but while we're here, we could, perhaps, if you're willing, stop and do a few scans."
"Wondered when you were going to bring that up again. Sure, why not?" He looked relieved and she followed him to the med lab, where she put down the rucksack and sat on the exam table, swinging her legs while he rummaged for the appropriate gadgets.
He brought out a white scanner and put on his glasses before waving the device purposefully in her direction and frowning at the results. "You look quite the mad professor," she observed dryly.
"What's that?" he asked absently, studying the scanner.
"Never mind."
He made several disapproving, clucking sounds and traded the scanner for another, more ostentatious gadget with a large display screen and several removable wands that he wiggled around and then gently poked her with. She stuck out her tongue and said "ah," but even that failed to amuse him. At last, she gave in and asked what he saw.
"Nothing," he said, visibly annoyed. His brow wrinkled and he squinted at the display, even through his glasses.
"Thirty seven degrees, heart rate and respiration slightly elevated?" she guessed.
"No, your heart rate and respiration are just fine," he said, apparently missing (or ignoring) her attempt at humour. He checked the readout on a display mounted on the wall and pursed his lips at it in continued displeasure. Rose scooted forward and hopped off the exam table, coming up behind him and putting her arms around his waist.
"It's all right if it takes some time," she said. "You'll get it, I know you will. Leave it for now."
"If I can't even tell you how you got here," he said, patiently, "I can't very well help you send a message to your mum, can I?"
"Is that it, then?"
"I'm curious, yes, if that's what you mean. You just appeared out of nowhere, which is quite impossible, and I can't explain it. Yes, that bothers me a great deal. There's no temporal or spatial disturbance, other than what I can account for with the TARDIS. No breach, no rift, no evidence of anything unusual. There's the Void stuff, but you had that before, and so do I for that matter." He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, tugging it up into wild, bushy tufts.
"You'll figure it out," she reiterated, quite sure of herself, or rather, of him. "As long as you're sure we're all safe." She paused and he gave her a quick, self-assured nod. "Come on, let's go back."
He let her tow him out of the med lab and back to the console room, where she patted the TARDIS's wall affectionately. "See you soon, girl," she assured the wall, and felt a warm buzz in return.
When he went to lock the TARDIS door behind them, she had to ask. "Isn't it a bit cynical to lock the door when we're in a monastery?"
"Oh, one can never be too careful," he chided. "It's a time machine, after all. And besides, I don't want anyone messing with my things. Except you, rather." He grabbed her hand and twirled her in close against him, planting a sloppy kiss on her lips. "Actually, I've almost talked Jacob into coming to the med lab," he confided.
"Seriously?" questioned Rose, astounded.
"Well, not exactly, but I did persuade him to let me scan him and clear up a few issues," said the Doctor proudly. "He's got the heart and lungs of a man half his age now."
Rose was skeptical. The monk had a holy aversion to the Doctor's implements, nearly as much as the Doctor had a holy aversion to Jacob's prayer services. "You persuaded him?"
"I'll have you know I am a master of persuasion," he said, all ruffled dignity. "He didn't stand a chance."
"I see," she said, grinning impishly. Then, a sudden thought struck her. "Could you do the same thing for me?"
"What, use my vast powers of persuasion?"
"No, the med lab stuff, keep me healthy and all."
He regarded her steadily. "There are reasons I haven't suggested it before," he said finally. "If you go back to your own timeline with any medical help from the future, it could cause … complications, for you and for the timeline." She nodded. "With Jacob — well, it's a bit different, here, with no one else to take a close look at him."
"But," she said, and felt a slight chill despite the warmth of the evening, "I'm not going back to my own timeline, remember?"
He didn't answer for several heartbeats, and she thought he might ignore her statement altogether. At last, he spoke quietly, intensely. "Wherever you go, you'll be out of time."
"So it won't do me any more harm for you to help me out," she pointed out.
"It's very final, Rose," he said in a hushed tone. "No going back, ever."
For a fleeting moment, he looked so much older than his youthful face implied, carrying the weight of all his long centuries upon him. Now, she asked him to help her keep the despair and anguish at bay, for as long as she could. "Let me protect you."
His astonishment was plain, from the sudden straightening of his spine, to the creasing of his forehead, to the widening of his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, completely bewildered. "What?"
"Let me protect you," she soothed him. "You don't ever let anyone take care of you, not even me. I want to help. You don't have to be alone, Doctor. I'm here and I want to be with you."
"What if it's all undone?" he asked, giving voice to the deeper fear she held, the one she had not even let come to the surface amidst her worry about her family and the damage she might have done. "What if there's another doorway?"
"If there's a doorway, I won't go through," she stated baldly. "I'm staying and that's final."
The Doctor, at his most darkly Doctorish, stared back at her with skepticism and not a little fear written in the lines around his eyes. She met him stare for stare, the force of it exhausting. At last, he let out a tense breath, nodding in assent. His shoulders relaxed and the stormy expression on his face faded into relief. She enveloped him in a gripping embrace. He, who hugged everyone impulsively, was momentarily awkward, one hand coming up to pat her gingerly on the back.
At last, she felt his whole body soften. "All right, then," he murmured. He rested his forehead against hers, their breath mingling, arms wrapped tightly around one another, with the blue police box standing guard behind them.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 01:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 02:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 02:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 02:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 02:36 am (UTC)Him helping her stay healthy may not be the forever that she initially promised but at least it's more than what the Doctor first thought.
Can't wait to see where you go from here!
no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 02:42 am (UTC)Rose won't live forever, but they can take as long as they can.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 03:06 am (UTC)that pesky shoeany foreboding (well, maybe a bit) but more because I'm terribly curious. This is too neat and I'm terribly suspicious.But I do like the Rose/Ten conversation and I do look forward to
the shoethe next chapter :)no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 08:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 03:17 am (UTC)You write them so well; I could seriously see this happening in actual DW. If you know, if it wasn't all "family friendly." and all. Psh. Who needs family friendly? ;P
no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 08:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 03:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 08:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 04:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 08:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 04:45 am (UTC)The close-italics tag migrated a couple of words downstream.
Also, needless to say, I like the chapter ;).
Though I'm curious about tomorrow's...
no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 08:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 08:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 10:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 08:40 pm (UTC)Seriously, you don't really want me to tell you the future, do you? :)
no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 08:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 08:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-04 11:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-05 12:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-14 01:02 am (UTC)Which brings me to my point and the reason I had to write the review. I love imagining all the different ways The Doctor has tried to deal with losing Rose, but I have to say that I love your shampoo idea the best. Here I was, just reading along and enjoying the story and then you wrote those few little sentences about the shampoo and body lotion bottles all lined in a row with the caps off and I just about cried. Rose got a little pain from it, but I almost fell out of my chair! I could see him standing there in her bathroom, clutching the bottle and trying so hard not to let the tears fall and it broke my heart! Awesome writing and description. I loved it. Now I'm going to go and finish this lovely web your weaving. Awesome job.
P.s This is the longest review I've written in my life...and I ramble a lot so this is a great testament to your write abilities. Keep going with it!
no subject
Date: 2007-08-14 01:12 am (UTC)Smell is the sense tied closest to memory, or so "they" say. I know one of the hardest days I had after my grandfather died two and a half years ago was when the old flannel shirt I had no longer smelled like his old pipe tobacco and aftershave. That's when I really dealt with his being gone.
Thank you for the compliment; it means a lot, and I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.