The Hidden Well, Chapter Nine
Aug. 6th, 2007 08:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kalleahPairing: Ten/Rose
Rating: PG
Betas:ivydoor, np_complete, platypus, and sensiblecat
Previous Chapters
In this chapter: A confrontation between Emelia and the Doctor over Rose's care.
"I'm sorry," said Emelia with considerable sarcasm, "but I think I just heard you say that you let her leave without so much as a blood pressure check?"
She and Frances faced off in the nursery's small office. Emelia was so angry that she was shaking, and somewhere beyond the red haze in her brain, she knew she was being unfair to Frances. This guilty awareness only served to make her more furious.
The medic, who had arrived despite the cancellation order, cowered in the corner of the office and tried not to attract attention. Frances, for her part, sat behind the desk and looked as if she would prefer a more sizable barrier between her and the incensed operations manager.
"And you," Emelia continued, turning to face the medic and pointing a finger, "I expect much better response time in a project this size. That man and I both beat you here. That is completely unacceptable." She thought of the potential liability that the project had just opened itself up to and resisted the urge to pound her fists on the desk.
"Brandon said she was much better than when she first collapsed," Frances piped up. "And the Doctor was quite firm about taking her away."
"You should have sat on her head, or his, and kept her here until we could conduct a proper exam," Emelia snapped. "At the very least, we could have gotten her thumbprint on a waiver."
There was only one remedy for this situation now, if it could be remedied at all. "Come with me," she ordered the medic. "We need to examine her." Frances followed the two of them outside, making little clucking sounds of protest the whole way.
Emelia paid her little mind until the other woman clutched at her arm. "They didn't go that way, Emelia."
"Of course they did," she scoffed. "They may be new to Arisbe but this is the fastest way back to Section 4."
Frances looked doubtful, glancing first one way, then the other, and finally shrugged. "Have it your way," she said, with the smallest amount of defiance. Emelia, with her nudging, buried guilt, refrained from making an acerbic response designed to quash that defiance.
"Let's go," she told the medic. "Try and keep up."
--
Jonah.
"He didn't mean to hurt me," Rose told the Doctor. "He wouldn't. I know that."
"I know," he said softly. "He's a child, and a special one at that." He stood and offered her a hand. "You need some rest. We can talk about this later, all right?" She eased off the exam table and let him guide her back to their room.
She obediently stripped off her clothes and pulled on the long t-shirt he handed her. He folded back the coverlet and sheets and patted the bed. "In you go," he prompted.
When she was snug in bed, he tucked the coverlet around her and kissed her full on the lips, lingering and sweet. She tried to tug him down beside her, but he shook his head and stood up.
"You need some rest," he repeated. "I need to go and look at the readings." He smoothed the hair back from her forehead. "I won't be far," he added gently. "Just call me if you need me."
"Help me sleep?" she suggested, thinking of his soothing presence in her mind, but he shook his head again.
"Not right now, Rose. You've had a major shock to your system and don't need anything else in your head." She relented, knowing if she pressed the issue, he would curl up next to her and stay with her while she slept, but also knowing that he desperately wanted to study the readings from the telepathic surge.
He left the door ajar when he left, and she burrowed down into the bed, rubbing her feet back and forth against the cool sheets. She could just feel the aftertaste of her experience lingering in her consciousness, faintly bitter and longing. Jonah, she thought, and as she drifted into a fitful sleep, the image of the silent boy's face as she urged him to let go of the swing floated in her mind.
--
She woke with the realization that the TARDIS was moving – had moved already, to be more precise. The landing was gentler than usual, but she was accustomed enough to the comings and goings that she recognized the faint jolt as something separate from her dreams.
Before she got out of bed, she took a moment to assess her condition and found that she felt deeply tired, more than a little weak and wobbly, but otherwise intact. Her head didn't ache as it had earlier, and she could think clearly again. It did take her several minutes of wobbling to pull on her jeans, and she had to sit back down on the bed twice, but at last she padded barefoot down the hallway toward the console room.
Her mind whirled with questions. Had they simply left Arisbe behind? She knew the Doctor had been worried about her, but he had seemed calm and composed enough when he left her earlier. He couldn't have just left without saying a word to Jonah or Brandon or anyone, could he? Without even asking her?
She knew that if she were in danger, he could and he would.
So, when she reached the console room, she was ready to confront him about once again making unilateral decisions without her input, but found it empty. She drew up short and looked around. The door was slightly ajar, and she cautiously stuck her head outside, unsure of where she might find herself.
It took her mind a moment to wrap around the fact that she was looking at a very bland bedroom. She presumed it was the one in Section 4, Habitation D, but the décor didn't give her any clues. She let out her breath, which she hadn't realized she had been holding, and tiptoed out into the room. Now that she was outside the muffling interior of the TARDIS, she could hear the sound of an argument coming from the front room.
"… took her off on your own, without any medical supervision! She needed to be properly examined." The woman's voice was loud, but she sounded to Rose like she was frightened, and hiding it behind anger.
"I assure you I am quite capable of attending to Rose's medical needs," the Doctor said in an even tone. "I assessed her at the schoolyard. There was no danger in moving her." Rose knew that tone, also. It was the one that the Doctor used rather than shouting when he was deeply upset.
Rose peeked around the door and saw Emelia, the Doctor, and a bald, timid-looking man in a blue medical uniform. Emelia and the Doctor glowered at each other and the other man looked miserable. She made a command decision and pushed the door open.
Three pairs of eyes turned toward her, and she hoped it wasn't terribly obvious that she was holding onto the doorjamb for support. She realized at that same moment that while she had put on jeans, she hadn't taken the time to put on a bra, and felt a self-conscious flush creep up her neck and into her cheeks. She did her best to ignore it.
"You can examine me," she said evenly, walking across the room and sitting down on the couch. The Doctor crossed his arms in front of him and frowned, but she ignored him.
Emelia gave a brief, satisfied nod to the stranger, who seated himself next to her on the couch. "I'm just going to check your vitals," he said, taking some instruments out of a bag she hadn't noticed before.
The Doctor and Emelia continued to glare at one another and she tried to lighten the mood. "What's your name?" she asked as he wound a strap around her upper arm.
"Howard," he said. His voice was deep bass, and she could feel the vibrations up her arm and into her shoulder from where he touched her.
"Nice to meet you, Howard," she said, giving him a slight smile. "I'm Rose." He returned the smile tentatively. "My mum has a friend named Howard," she continued, and swallowed. The present tense stung, but past tense would have been worse.
"Sorry," said Howard. "I don't know anyone named Rose. Funny, that, you'd think I would." He peered into her eyes with a bright light and then up each nostril, which made her giggle.
"Well," she said, after he had moved on to her ear, "now you do." Emelia cleared her throat, and Rose shot her a look. "He's not finished."
Howard continued his methodical exam, asking about her last meal, how she had slept the night before, whether she had ever suddenly lost consciousness, and a dozen other questions that she candidly answered. He took out a small rubber mallet and tapped her just below her kneecap, which also made her giggle. She might be on an alien planet in her future, but some things seemed to be universal.
Other things were not. He produced a handheld scanner and wand, considerably more clunky than what the Doctor used, and focused his attention for several moments. In the end, he gave her a comforting smile and stood up. "I recommend rest and monitoring, no strenuous activity, and a good meal. No work for a couple of days at least. I'll be glad to look in on you tomorrow if you'd like. I'm in Section 8, Habitation E if you need me before then."
Rose was absurdly pleased that he directed his comments toward her rather than Emelia. "Thank you, Howard," she said.
"Yes," said the Doctor, as if the whole exam had been his idea, "thank you." He shook Howard's hand gravely and opened the door with a pointed look at Emelia. "We'll let you know if we need anything." It was quite clear from his demeanour that there would be no such need.
"Emelia," said Rose, stopping the other woman before she could leave, "please tell Brandon and the children that I'm all right, would you? Especially Jonah."
Emelia's eyes widened in the faintest surprise, but she smoothed out her expression just as quickly. "Of course I will." The two women smiled cautiously at one another before the door closed and Rose and the Doctor were alone.
"I thought we'd left Arisbe," she said into the room, not looking at him.
"It did cross my mind," he said quietly, and sat down next to her. "How do you feel?"
"I've been better. You were rude to Howard." Emelia, she figured, could give as good as she got, and didn't really count.
"Ah." He winced and studied the ceiling as if it were suddenly going to communicate the secrets of the universe. "I was a little preoccupied, what with hurrying back here before they showed up at our doorstep and all."
She glanced toward the bedroom. "So you parked the TARDIS in the closet?"
He grinned impishly at her. "It's bigger on the inside." She groaned at the inevitable joke and lightly smacked him on the arm. "You should still be in bed," he told her. "Come on." He stood and helped her up, and they took small steps together down the hallway and into the newly dimensionally-transcendental closet.
Back in their bedroom, she wriggled out of her jeans, which seemed significantly easier than getting into them had been, and flopped back onto the bed. The sudden change of altitude made her head spin and she closed her eyes.
"I'll get you some tea and a biscuit, if you want," offered the Doctor. She agreed and he disappeared for a few minutes. She scooted around in the bed and sat up, fluffing some pillows behind her for support, then waited for his return.
"Tea," said the Doctor cheerily, bumping past the door and sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Just the thing for the old synapses. Works better on me than you, but there you are."
"Is Jonah all right?" she asked, taking the teacup from him.
"Yes." His eye contact was almost too direct, too determined to have her take him at his word.
"How do you know that?" She didn't want him to placate her, and she was worried about the little boy.
"One, he was playing quite calmly in the sandbox when I got to the nursery. Two, Emelia wouldn't have stormed over here with the medic if he hadn't been."
Rose, having seen Emelia's protectiveness of her adopted son, couldn't argue with the second point. She blew on the surface of the tea and sipped, then pulled a face. "Herbal tea?" she complained.
"It's a special blend from the Alidar system. Like chamomile, but better." He smiled encouragingly and offered her a biscuit. She drank most of the tea and then ate the biscuit, which much to her relief was not at all medicinal.
"Am I in any danger from him?" The question made her throat tighten unexpectedly. She thought of Jonah's finger painting of her, his soft hand in hers as she led him to the swing, his dark curls and pale, beautiful face. She wanted to see him again.
The Doctor didn't answer, and she looked up to find him watching her warily. "I think," he said with reluctance, "that I can manage a way around that."
She wanted to ask more questions, but a quiet, deepening calm began to descend upon her. She sighed at him. "You drugged me?"
"Like chamomile, but better," he repeated, taking the cup from her hand and setting it down on the bedside table. "You and I have a meeting tomorrow with Connor – and Emelia, although she doesn't know it yet – and we'll talk more then." He put a hand behind her back and nudged her forward, sliding the pillow out from behind her. She slid down in the bed and rolled onto her side.
Invisible weights drew her eyelids lower. Between ever-lengthening blinks, like a slowly progressing slide show, she saw him toss his jacket and tie onto the chair and settle onto his back next to her. She smiled drowsily and folded into his side, letting his rolling breath wash over her like waves on the seashore.
Rating: PG
Betas:
ivydoor, np_complete, platypus, and sensiblecat Previous Chapters
In this chapter: A confrontation between Emelia and the Doctor over Rose's care.
"I'm sorry," said Emelia with considerable sarcasm, "but I think I just heard you say that you let her leave without so much as a blood pressure check?"
She and Frances faced off in the nursery's small office. Emelia was so angry that she was shaking, and somewhere beyond the red haze in her brain, she knew she was being unfair to Frances. This guilty awareness only served to make her more furious.
The medic, who had arrived despite the cancellation order, cowered in the corner of the office and tried not to attract attention. Frances, for her part, sat behind the desk and looked as if she would prefer a more sizable barrier between her and the incensed operations manager.
"And you," Emelia continued, turning to face the medic and pointing a finger, "I expect much better response time in a project this size. That man and I both beat you here. That is completely unacceptable." She thought of the potential liability that the project had just opened itself up to and resisted the urge to pound her fists on the desk.
"Brandon said she was much better than when she first collapsed," Frances piped up. "And the Doctor was quite firm about taking her away."
"You should have sat on her head, or his, and kept her here until we could conduct a proper exam," Emelia snapped. "At the very least, we could have gotten her thumbprint on a waiver."
There was only one remedy for this situation now, if it could be remedied at all. "Come with me," she ordered the medic. "We need to examine her." Frances followed the two of them outside, making little clucking sounds of protest the whole way.
Emelia paid her little mind until the other woman clutched at her arm. "They didn't go that way, Emelia."
"Of course they did," she scoffed. "They may be new to Arisbe but this is the fastest way back to Section 4."
Frances looked doubtful, glancing first one way, then the other, and finally shrugged. "Have it your way," she said, with the smallest amount of defiance. Emelia, with her nudging, buried guilt, refrained from making an acerbic response designed to quash that defiance.
"Let's go," she told the medic. "Try and keep up."
--
Jonah.
"He didn't mean to hurt me," Rose told the Doctor. "He wouldn't. I know that."
"I know," he said softly. "He's a child, and a special one at that." He stood and offered her a hand. "You need some rest. We can talk about this later, all right?" She eased off the exam table and let him guide her back to their room.
She obediently stripped off her clothes and pulled on the long t-shirt he handed her. He folded back the coverlet and sheets and patted the bed. "In you go," he prompted.
When she was snug in bed, he tucked the coverlet around her and kissed her full on the lips, lingering and sweet. She tried to tug him down beside her, but he shook his head and stood up.
"You need some rest," he repeated. "I need to go and look at the readings." He smoothed the hair back from her forehead. "I won't be far," he added gently. "Just call me if you need me."
"Help me sleep?" she suggested, thinking of his soothing presence in her mind, but he shook his head again.
"Not right now, Rose. You've had a major shock to your system and don't need anything else in your head." She relented, knowing if she pressed the issue, he would curl up next to her and stay with her while she slept, but also knowing that he desperately wanted to study the readings from the telepathic surge.
He left the door ajar when he left, and she burrowed down into the bed, rubbing her feet back and forth against the cool sheets. She could just feel the aftertaste of her experience lingering in her consciousness, faintly bitter and longing. Jonah, she thought, and as she drifted into a fitful sleep, the image of the silent boy's face as she urged him to let go of the swing floated in her mind.
--
She woke with the realization that the TARDIS was moving – had moved already, to be more precise. The landing was gentler than usual, but she was accustomed enough to the comings and goings that she recognized the faint jolt as something separate from her dreams.
Before she got out of bed, she took a moment to assess her condition and found that she felt deeply tired, more than a little weak and wobbly, but otherwise intact. Her head didn't ache as it had earlier, and she could think clearly again. It did take her several minutes of wobbling to pull on her jeans, and she had to sit back down on the bed twice, but at last she padded barefoot down the hallway toward the console room.
Her mind whirled with questions. Had they simply left Arisbe behind? She knew the Doctor had been worried about her, but he had seemed calm and composed enough when he left her earlier. He couldn't have just left without saying a word to Jonah or Brandon or anyone, could he? Without even asking her?
She knew that if she were in danger, he could and he would.
So, when she reached the console room, she was ready to confront him about once again making unilateral decisions without her input, but found it empty. She drew up short and looked around. The door was slightly ajar, and she cautiously stuck her head outside, unsure of where she might find herself.
It took her mind a moment to wrap around the fact that she was looking at a very bland bedroom. She presumed it was the one in Section 4, Habitation D, but the décor didn't give her any clues. She let out her breath, which she hadn't realized she had been holding, and tiptoed out into the room. Now that she was outside the muffling interior of the TARDIS, she could hear the sound of an argument coming from the front room.
"… took her off on your own, without any medical supervision! She needed to be properly examined." The woman's voice was loud, but she sounded to Rose like she was frightened, and hiding it behind anger.
"I assure you I am quite capable of attending to Rose's medical needs," the Doctor said in an even tone. "I assessed her at the schoolyard. There was no danger in moving her." Rose knew that tone, also. It was the one that the Doctor used rather than shouting when he was deeply upset.
Rose peeked around the door and saw Emelia, the Doctor, and a bald, timid-looking man in a blue medical uniform. Emelia and the Doctor glowered at each other and the other man looked miserable. She made a command decision and pushed the door open.
Three pairs of eyes turned toward her, and she hoped it wasn't terribly obvious that she was holding onto the doorjamb for support. She realized at that same moment that while she had put on jeans, she hadn't taken the time to put on a bra, and felt a self-conscious flush creep up her neck and into her cheeks. She did her best to ignore it.
"You can examine me," she said evenly, walking across the room and sitting down on the couch. The Doctor crossed his arms in front of him and frowned, but she ignored him.
Emelia gave a brief, satisfied nod to the stranger, who seated himself next to her on the couch. "I'm just going to check your vitals," he said, taking some instruments out of a bag she hadn't noticed before.
The Doctor and Emelia continued to glare at one another and she tried to lighten the mood. "What's your name?" she asked as he wound a strap around her upper arm.
"Howard," he said. His voice was deep bass, and she could feel the vibrations up her arm and into her shoulder from where he touched her.
"Nice to meet you, Howard," she said, giving him a slight smile. "I'm Rose." He returned the smile tentatively. "My mum has a friend named Howard," she continued, and swallowed. The present tense stung, but past tense would have been worse.
"Sorry," said Howard. "I don't know anyone named Rose. Funny, that, you'd think I would." He peered into her eyes with a bright light and then up each nostril, which made her giggle.
"Well," she said, after he had moved on to her ear, "now you do." Emelia cleared her throat, and Rose shot her a look. "He's not finished."
Howard continued his methodical exam, asking about her last meal, how she had slept the night before, whether she had ever suddenly lost consciousness, and a dozen other questions that she candidly answered. He took out a small rubber mallet and tapped her just below her kneecap, which also made her giggle. She might be on an alien planet in her future, but some things seemed to be universal.
Other things were not. He produced a handheld scanner and wand, considerably more clunky than what the Doctor used, and focused his attention for several moments. In the end, he gave her a comforting smile and stood up. "I recommend rest and monitoring, no strenuous activity, and a good meal. No work for a couple of days at least. I'll be glad to look in on you tomorrow if you'd like. I'm in Section 8, Habitation E if you need me before then."
Rose was absurdly pleased that he directed his comments toward her rather than Emelia. "Thank you, Howard," she said.
"Yes," said the Doctor, as if the whole exam had been his idea, "thank you." He shook Howard's hand gravely and opened the door with a pointed look at Emelia. "We'll let you know if we need anything." It was quite clear from his demeanour that there would be no such need.
"Emelia," said Rose, stopping the other woman before she could leave, "please tell Brandon and the children that I'm all right, would you? Especially Jonah."
Emelia's eyes widened in the faintest surprise, but she smoothed out her expression just as quickly. "Of course I will." The two women smiled cautiously at one another before the door closed and Rose and the Doctor were alone.
"I thought we'd left Arisbe," she said into the room, not looking at him.
"It did cross my mind," he said quietly, and sat down next to her. "How do you feel?"
"I've been better. You were rude to Howard." Emelia, she figured, could give as good as she got, and didn't really count.
"Ah." He winced and studied the ceiling as if it were suddenly going to communicate the secrets of the universe. "I was a little preoccupied, what with hurrying back here before they showed up at our doorstep and all."
She glanced toward the bedroom. "So you parked the TARDIS in the closet?"
He grinned impishly at her. "It's bigger on the inside." She groaned at the inevitable joke and lightly smacked him on the arm. "You should still be in bed," he told her. "Come on." He stood and helped her up, and they took small steps together down the hallway and into the newly dimensionally-transcendental closet.
Back in their bedroom, she wriggled out of her jeans, which seemed significantly easier than getting into them had been, and flopped back onto the bed. The sudden change of altitude made her head spin and she closed her eyes.
"I'll get you some tea and a biscuit, if you want," offered the Doctor. She agreed and he disappeared for a few minutes. She scooted around in the bed and sat up, fluffing some pillows behind her for support, then waited for his return.
"Tea," said the Doctor cheerily, bumping past the door and sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Just the thing for the old synapses. Works better on me than you, but there you are."
"Is Jonah all right?" she asked, taking the teacup from him.
"Yes." His eye contact was almost too direct, too determined to have her take him at his word.
"How do you know that?" She didn't want him to placate her, and she was worried about the little boy.
"One, he was playing quite calmly in the sandbox when I got to the nursery. Two, Emelia wouldn't have stormed over here with the medic if he hadn't been."
Rose, having seen Emelia's protectiveness of her adopted son, couldn't argue with the second point. She blew on the surface of the tea and sipped, then pulled a face. "Herbal tea?" she complained.
"It's a special blend from the Alidar system. Like chamomile, but better." He smiled encouragingly and offered her a biscuit. She drank most of the tea and then ate the biscuit, which much to her relief was not at all medicinal.
"Am I in any danger from him?" The question made her throat tighten unexpectedly. She thought of Jonah's finger painting of her, his soft hand in hers as she led him to the swing, his dark curls and pale, beautiful face. She wanted to see him again.
The Doctor didn't answer, and she looked up to find him watching her warily. "I think," he said with reluctance, "that I can manage a way around that."
She wanted to ask more questions, but a quiet, deepening calm began to descend upon her. She sighed at him. "You drugged me?"
"Like chamomile, but better," he repeated, taking the cup from her hand and setting it down on the bedside table. "You and I have a meeting tomorrow with Connor – and Emelia, although she doesn't know it yet – and we'll talk more then." He put a hand behind her back and nudged her forward, sliding the pillow out from behind her. She slid down in the bed and rolled onto her side.
Invisible weights drew her eyelids lower. Between ever-lengthening blinks, like a slowly progressing slide show, she saw him toss his jacket and tie onto the chair and settle onto his back next to her. She smiled drowsily and folded into his side, letting his rolling breath wash over her like waves on the seashore.
