lone_defender | (no subject)

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Jack didn't find her.

Neither did the Doctor.

If they had, she'd probably have recovered faster, but it was for the best that they didn't. Sometimes, she needed to scold herself and pull her own self together, without the benefit of someone offering her comfort. She'd botched the one chance she'd have to see her family again, and it was entirely her fault.

Now she had to make sure she hadn't lost her Doctor, too, when she'd finally found him again.

It was a few hours, perhaps, by the time she found herself standing in the doorway of the Doctor's bedroom. Of what was her bedroom longer than her other's had been. She didn't step inside, but she did speak. "I'm so sorry."

She'd taken to saying that so often now, she almost couldn't remember the days he had.

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It wasn't fair of him at all, sending her mind spinning like this. No, no, there was so much they needed to sort through, and her Doctor wasn't meant to know he could sidetrack her like this.

The words, not spoken aloud but spoken all the same, caused her to pull back, and plant her hands on his chest--twin heartbeats she only truly appreciated once they were gone--to keep him from any ideas of pulling her back down. That was not the way to keep her from tears, Doctor.

"Doctor..." Her words caught in her throat. Of course she'd known he had. There was remarkable clarity in looking over such things with six years on her own with nothing left but to think on them. But...Doctors didn't say that. Not generally. They just didn't. "I...but you can't..."

What twisted world was it when she had more trouble saying it--accepting it--than he?

He looked up at her with red swollen lips, his eyes filled with tears as he looked up at her. She would be able to feel his hearts thumping hard in his chest.

Wasted time, so much of it because he'd been too frightened to say three simple words. Yes, Rose had known but it wasn't the same. Jackie, Mickey, Pete and Jake had all taught him the importance of romantic love. How rare it was. And even for a 900+ Time Lord, Rose was someone he loved with both his hearts.

"I do," reaching up he stroked her cheek, his eyes bright as he spoke the truth. "I love you."

Well, if you'd hoped it might resume the impromptu kissing session your plan sadly backfired, Doctor. Instead, the words--spoken aloud, so open and honest ad without question--merely broke through a carefully constructed wall. Through scars to renew the wound of watching him vanish in Pete's arms as if it were only moments before.

All that was left was a ruined Rose, inconsolable, weeping, and sobbing against that poor battered shirt of his. Her Doctor...her beloved Doctor, lost so long ago. He'd loved her, and...now she didn't grieve for him. She grieved for that lost girl who'd never gotten to hear the words, never been brave enough to say them first.

That girl she wasn't any more. Somewhere in the mindless words and tears, she managed just a bit of lucidity. "Don't...deserve it anymore."

And he held her close, what more could he do? There, pressed against him, the Doctor tried his best to comfort her.

Slowly and carefully he pulled her up the bed with him, laying her beside him and just holding her close. The Doctor was as a loss for words, he was an expert at scraped knees or snotty noses, but at broken Roses. Oh no, he was no good at those.

"Rose, please. Don't say that. Don't ever say..." Closing his eyes he hid his face in her hair, breathing in her scent. "You more than deserve me."

Of course, she'd dreamed so often of him being there all those years. Even when it'd been Jack, holding her close until she could be sane again, she'd still wished it'd been the Doctor. Jack had understood it, of course, that was why it was Jack.

Now, oh, of course it was a comfort. Everything she'd hoped for, because things were always better in his arms, or when he smiled. Perhaps it was a bit childlike, but that hadn't ever really changed. No matter the woman she became without him.

"But I've done so much...so many terrible things." She shook her head, clinging to him more tightly. When he did process it, when he'd send her off, she wanted at least the few moments she could have before that.

She could hear the TARDIS singing again. Oddly, she hadn't heard it since she'd returned to this room until now.

His fingers brushed her hair, "Rose, remember what I told you, the Time War, all those people, my planet. I've done terrible things too, people have died because I didn't want to be alone. How many times did I put your life in danger on another planet?"

Kissing the top of her hair he held her close, "Sometimes you have to do what you can to save people, and sometimes you can't save anyone at all."

She was running out of steam. Partly because she was only good for short bursts of misery any longer--she'd trained herself well to control it and keep moving no matter what happened--and partly because he was...so...stubborn about not caring. Stubbornly knowing just what to do.

"Don't leave." She bit her lip, not looking up at him. "I can't do it without you."

"Then stop telling me to leave you," he whispered softly, "Because, Rose Tyler, unless you don't want me, there's no where else in the while universe I'd rather be than right here, with you in my arms."

Oh, the sweet humanized Doctor, too many soaps and romantic comedy movies with Jackie, too much watching Mickey fall in love and marry, "I don't want to be without you."

Her shoulders still shook from tears she'd run out of, but she pulled herself closer at his words. Her Doctor. Her own sweet Doctor she'd searched for, for so long. The one she'd turned down so many adventures and hurt and hopeful Doctors for.

The one she'd even turned down the very Doctor he seemed fixated on for. A part of her was entirely certain he'd process what she'd said on day, or his patience would wear out, or he'd find the glamor of being the legendary duo would fade and what she'd become would shine through too much for him to ignore anymore.

She'd become someone who could live with waiting for that, if it meant she could be with him until then. Maybe she was always that person. "No...I don't ever want you to go. Understand? Never again."

Now that got a slight smile, slowly it grew until he was beaming down at her, "Never is along time Rose. Sure you can out up with me for that long?" And as he spoke he tucked his fingers under her chin and drew it up so she'd look at him.

"Rose, oh Rose." He just grinned down at her, "Hello."

Oh and he'd caught her saying the word she tried not to use anymore. She was awful today. Really.

"Think I can manage not to strangle you." She offered him a soft smile. "Hello, Doctor."

Shifting a little closer to her on the bed, the Doctor cupped her cheek and inched closer until there noses were touching.

"Can I kiss you?"

She really needed to stop thinking, because it was becoming a broken record. Skipping over and over again.

She forced out a soft laugh. "S'long as you promise you're not a dream." Because if this were, it would be horribly cruel.

"I'm not a dream," he said softly as he reached under her jacket and shirt, fingers brushing her skin before he pinched her softly, laughing at the same time. "I'm right here, see."

And before she could say anything, the Doctor pulled her closer and kissed her.

That pinch earned a startled yelp, and it might have become a laugh at the absurdity of pinching her to make sure she was awake, but for the interruption.

Not that she ever particularly minded being interrupted by a kiss. Much. Better than being interrupted in the middle of an argument, anyway.

As they kissed the TARDIS hummed happily, lights in his room dimming to a soft warm glow. One hand tangled in her hair as the over came to rest at the small of her back, her kiss deepening as he drew their bodies closer.

It didn't seem strange at all for the TARDIS to put in her contribution. She was a part of her-and the Doctor-and always was. It made sense that she'd put forth her thoughts.

But that was about as far as she stopped to think about it, because the Doctor--hers, not just any. Hers. And no, she hadn't moved on. Not ever. If there was one thing unchanged from the Rose before Canary Wharf and now, it was her love for her Doctor.

Oh, how he liked kissing her. Lips parting, tongues dancing against on another while hands held on firm. The Doctor broke the kiss only long enough to catch his breath. Soon her lips were back on his in a heated kiss.

Wandering hands moved to push off her jacket and toss it to the floor before he held her once more, "Promise me you'll stay in here, in our room."

Oh, he wanted promises after he'd scrambled her brain? Of course he did. Because he was the Doctor, and he was probably completely lucid and running over...equations or something. The thought only amused her.

Still, he'd said something that demanded an answer. "Always. Always here, Doctor." It was dangerously close to the 'forever' she'd said and lost before.

"How'd you feel about camping out in here for the rest of the day?" The question was asked between kisses. Oh he couldn't get enough of these kisses.

She gave a soft, easy laugh at that. "S'cozy here." She didn't mind his fixation on kisses.

"Mmmmhmmm," he muttered as he kicked off his boots, then pulled off his jacket and tie, getting a little more comfortable. Moving to rest his head on his pillow, the Doctor reached out his arms to her, "Come here."

She'd fallen asleep boots and jacket on, whether out of exhaustion or a lack of a drive to bother not to, that it hardly occurred to her to kick off her own. The bed had seen much worse, anyway.

For now, she was happy just to crawl next to himand take one day-night-whichever the TARDIS left them with-to herself. Just this moment with her Doctor, after so long. She'd earned it, hadn't she?

The moment she was in his arms, the Doctor held her close, kissing her soft and slow. "So beautiful."

The Doctor would have to forgive her lack of articulation. The day left her entirely overwhelmed, and he'd just have to make do with an appreciative murmur. She could tell him he wasn't so shabby himself, and that she was already picking out little differences about him that she'd remember--and never confuse him for any other versions--another time.

Preferably before it all crashed down on her head. Never say never, never say forever.