Voyages of Discovery (Chapter Nineteen)
Apr. 12th, 2007 04:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kalleah![[info]](https://stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
platypus asked me a while back, during an early beta of this story, whether I would mirror The Calm Before The Storm and wrap things up in twenty chapters and an epilogue. In short, the answer is no.Now that being said, I am going to take a couple of days off from posting so I can tweak the coming chapters and be really comfortable with them before posting. Let me reassure you that I have quite a bit more written and the outline for how everything else is going to go in my head. I won't leave you hanging for more than a couple of days at most.
This is a shorter chapter, but look forward to a quite lengthy chapter twenty. I will also tease you unmercifully with the statement that I'm prouder of chapter twenty than I am of anything else I've written to date. Now, please don't throw tomatoes at me. I'll be back very very soon, I promise. :)
Previous Chapters
"When we lose one we love, our bitterest tears are called forth by the memory of hours when we loved not enough."
Maurice Maeterlinck
When Rose stopped crying, with a last snuffle, she felt the damp wool of the Doctor's jacket against her face and tried to summon a smile. "I've got you all wet," she said.
"No matter," he told her.
She leaned back and wiped her eyes. "I look horrible, don't I?" She studied the dark trail of mascara on her hand.
"No," he said. "You look fine."
"You're a terrible liar," she said, and tried to smile.
"If it makes you feel better, you look perfectly awful." Her eyes widened in surprise. "What? I was trying not to be rude. Isn't that a good thing?"
She chuckled despite herself and stood on wobbly legs, like a young fawn. "I'm going to get cleaned up."
The Doctor was sitting in the chair with a neutral expression on his face by the time she returned. He stood up when she entered the room and crossed over to her, looking down into her face with evident concern.
"I'm all right," she told him firmly. "Really." He didn't look convinced. She rummaged through her rucksack and took out the nightshirt she had slept in the night before. Without feeling particularly self-conscious, she changed out of her clothes. If he's seen me naked and seen into my mind, what difference does it make? she thought, with some dry humor.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.
She crossed over to the bed and settled herself in, pulling the sheet up underneath her chin. "I got to say goodbye." She fluffed the pillow under her head. "I didn't expect that seeing her again would be – well, as real as it was."
"I should have prepared you better," he said guiltily, shifting back and forth on his feet.
"I don't know that there's anything you could have said that would have prepared me for that," she stated flatly. He winced and she softened, not wanting to wound him. "Doctor, come to bed. Please?"
He smiled tentatively and took off his clothes, taking the time to fold them neatly and stack them on the chair. She thought that he might be buying himself some time. He blew out the lamp and lay down on his side, facing her, and she draped the sheet across him. He immediately reached out and brushed her cheek with the back of his hand, the motion affectionate and supportive.
"Did you see anything helpful?" she asked.
"I don't know yet. Nothing stood out, but that's not to say I didn't get something. I need to think about it all." He exhaled loudly and Rose felt his light breath against her face. "Rose, I'm so sorry I put you through all that, maybe for nothing. I was so sure it would be the answer."
"I know," she told him. "I'm glad, really. I saw Mum, and that hurts, but it's good, too." She opened her eyes wide in the dim light of the room and vowed not to cry again. "You were trying to help."
"I'm not always the best helper," he admitted.
"A fault?" She raised one eyebrow, knowing he could see her face. "You?"
"I have a few. Don't tell anyone." His light chuckle sounded somewhat forced.
"Yeah, me, too," she said. "It'll be our little secret." He scooted over closer to her and slid an arm around her. She snuggled into him gratefully. His body was cooler than hers, a welcome sensation on a warm night. His hearts beat steadily, one beat alternating gracefully with the other.
She was content to lie peacefully in his arms, listening to him breathe, knowing he was still awake. "Are you going to get any sleep tonight?"
"Maybe," he answered.
"Will you stay with me?" she asked drowsily.
"Of course." He kissed the top of her head. "Sweet dreams, Rose."
Maurice Maeterlinck
When Rose stopped crying, with a last snuffle, she felt the damp wool of the Doctor's jacket against her face and tried to summon a smile. "I've got you all wet," she said.
"No matter," he told her.
She leaned back and wiped her eyes. "I look horrible, don't I?" She studied the dark trail of mascara on her hand.
"No," he said. "You look fine."
"You're a terrible liar," she said, and tried to smile.
"If it makes you feel better, you look perfectly awful." Her eyes widened in surprise. "What? I was trying not to be rude. Isn't that a good thing?"
She chuckled despite herself and stood on wobbly legs, like a young fawn. "I'm going to get cleaned up."
The Doctor was sitting in the chair with a neutral expression on his face by the time she returned. He stood up when she entered the room and crossed over to her, looking down into her face with evident concern.
"I'm all right," she told him firmly. "Really." He didn't look convinced. She rummaged through her rucksack and took out the nightshirt she had slept in the night before. Without feeling particularly self-conscious, she changed out of her clothes. If he's seen me naked and seen into my mind, what difference does it make? she thought, with some dry humor.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.
She crossed over to the bed and settled herself in, pulling the sheet up underneath her chin. "I got to say goodbye." She fluffed the pillow under her head. "I didn't expect that seeing her again would be – well, as real as it was."
"I should have prepared you better," he said guiltily, shifting back and forth on his feet.
"I don't know that there's anything you could have said that would have prepared me for that," she stated flatly. He winced and she softened, not wanting to wound him. "Doctor, come to bed. Please?"
He smiled tentatively and took off his clothes, taking the time to fold them neatly and stack them on the chair. She thought that he might be buying himself some time. He blew out the lamp and lay down on his side, facing her, and she draped the sheet across him. He immediately reached out and brushed her cheek with the back of his hand, the motion affectionate and supportive.
"Did you see anything helpful?" she asked.
"I don't know yet. Nothing stood out, but that's not to say I didn't get something. I need to think about it all." He exhaled loudly and Rose felt his light breath against her face. "Rose, I'm so sorry I put you through all that, maybe for nothing. I was so sure it would be the answer."
"I know," she told him. "I'm glad, really. I saw Mum, and that hurts, but it's good, too." She opened her eyes wide in the dim light of the room and vowed not to cry again. "You were trying to help."
"I'm not always the best helper," he admitted.
"A fault?" She raised one eyebrow, knowing he could see her face. "You?"
"I have a few. Don't tell anyone." His light chuckle sounded somewhat forced.
"Yeah, me, too," she said. "It'll be our little secret." He scooted over closer to her and slid an arm around her. She snuggled into him gratefully. His body was cooler than hers, a welcome sensation on a warm night. His hearts beat steadily, one beat alternating gracefully with the other.
She was content to lie peacefully in his arms, listening to him breathe, knowing he was still awake. "Are you going to get any sleep tonight?"
"Maybe," he answered.
"Will you stay with me?" she asked drowsily.
"Of course." He kissed the top of her head. "Sweet dreams, Rose."
