This is an entirely random fic I wrote after rewatching the Runaway Bride and visiting Bad Wold Bay on a holiday to Cardiff. I know there are hundreds of fics like this, but this is my take on it. Enjoy!
Obviously I don't own Doctor Who.
Here he was, hand pressed to a white washed wall, staring ahead, listening to the sound of her cries a distance away, hearing the agonised sobs of the girl he loved and would ever love, on the other side of the wall, an entire world away. He could hear her. Why could he hear her? Echoes in his mind. He knew she would be crying.
And so would he.
The Doctor was in the control room, his usual location, flicking switches, listening to the Tardis hum. It often calmed him, but this time it was doing him no service. He paused, glanced up at the pulsing glow of the central panel, and allowed the movement of the engines within to entrance him for a moment, before he abruptly snapped himself out of it.
His mind had been racing, ever since the events of the pit, when he had fallen to what he had alluded to be his death, when he had left Rose on her own, unsafe, when everything had changed.
He had no idea if Ida had delivered his message to Rose, his -unfinished- message, but he found himself wanting to know if she had. He felt something for Rose, but as of yet he could not admit to himself that he loved her. He suspected she knew how he felt, but it was all so very unsaid, that he suspected it scared her as much as he, that their friendship could be something more.
It seemed more desperate now of course, since the beast had prophesized that Rose would die. The Doctor had experience with prophecies, they rarely didn't come true, and although he had told Rose it was a lie, that she would be fine, he knew his words were empty, and she did too.
Perhaps he should talk to her about it? Not the prophecy, he didn't want to frighten or worry her anymore than she already was, but talk to her about...them. The thought made his hearts beat faster. How would he do that? Humans seemed to be rather good at it, but he was hardly practised at discussing...feelings. It made him sick to think of how he would handle it. He would probably say the wrong thing, especially considering he didn't even know what he felt yet.
Rose would know, though. Rose would definitely know. She was so human, and that was why he love...appreciated her so. More so than anyone he had ever known, he thought. She would make him understand. Just seeing her would surely make him understand.
He left the control room with confident steps, took the complicated directions to the wardrobe room, got lost once, got lost again, then found it under the stairs by the bins. He thundered in, feet so much louder against the grated floor than they had sounded just outside, and when he saw the back of Rose's head he realised just how silly he was being, marching in here, and stopped abruptly, before swivelling around to leave.
Her voice stopped him in his tracks, though.
He screwed his eyes shut, clenched his teeth, and turned to face her, coat swishing around him as he did so.
She stood up and she giggled, walking over to him with a dress in one hand and a pair of jeans in the other. She had been choosing outfits to fill her wardrobe again.
"You came in first."
"Oh, right, yes. How're you then? Keeping well?"
She laughed again and her eyes danced as she watched him.
"Yeah I 'spose! Just decidin', jeans or dress?"
The Doctor's eyes fell to the items of clothing, and he honestly had no idea what to suggest. He knew nothing of clothing, just threw on whatever, generally. Whatever felt right at the moment. Why was it so hard for earth girls to do that?
"Don't worry." She said brightly, throwing the clothes down carelessly. "I know you have no idea."
The Doctor grinned. Oh, she did know him well. "So what did you want?" She put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to one side as she awaited his answer, a casual position he often saw her standing in when he was explaining things at a million miles an hour.
"Well, I just came in here to-" He pointed over his shoulder, as if the answer was there, or would be there, and almost instantly he dropped his arm to his side, realising that was entirely stupid. Why had he done that? Why was he suddenly nervous?
Rose regarded him and she clasped her hands together at her lips, smiling against them.
The Doctor was still staring over his own shoulder as she said this, and he instantly looked back at her when she did so, the answer falling from his mouth before he could stop it.
"To tell you something."
Rose dropped her hands from her face and her whole body relaxed and her cheeks flushed red. The Doctor wondered why she was doing that all of a sudden.
"Oh yeah?" She brushed her hair away from her eyes (even though it had never been close to them in the first place) and she cleared her throat when her voice shook a little.
"Yes I was just, well, I was thinking about the prophecy and-" He faltered. He hadn't meant to mention that! In fact, he had just told himself quite frankly NOT to mention that! He closed his eyes again and lifted his head up. Now what?
"Oh, right." Rose sounded somewhat bemused, and her voice quivered again, this time surely from the ever present worry. The Doctor opened one eye at the sound of her voice, and then the other one, regarding her calmly. Rose seemed to be thinking, and the Doctor decided he should be quiet just for now, and to let her do that, because he would no doubt say something very stupid again, very soon.
Rose frowned to herself and her eyes darted to her feet, and then around everywhere near to her feet, and then back to the Doctor. Her lips were parted slightly, something she often did when she was in deep thought, and the Doctor braced himself for her conclusion. "What about it? Cuz-"
It seemed the Doctor's motor mouth was running again, halfway through her sentence he answered the first question before she had chance to finish, and then faltered himself as he realised he had interrupted her.
"Well, I just wanted to tell you that it's quite alright and-"
Rose simply smiled softly at him, and when he stopped he looked awkward and said 'sorry', signalling for her to continue with the wave of his hand.
"Cuz," Rose rubbed the back of her head, awkwardly gathering her bearings. "Cuz Ida said you mentioned my name before you fell in the pit, and-" She paused and looked to him for the rest, clearly hoping he would give her the rest of the information she so clearly needed.
"Oh right, that, yes." The Doctor looked up, hardly daring to make eye contact. This was it, wasn't it? "Um,"
"And I was just wondering what...What you said."
"Not much really." The Doctor broke into a goofy smile and he laughed slightly, but Rose clearly wasn't buying it. His face slowly fell and he sighed, allowing his hands to flail slightly and bang his sides. "Oh, alright then. I thought things were looking bleak, I honestly did. Though you of all people are well aware how often that happens."
Rose smiled slightly and looked up at him through thick eyelashes.
"I wanted Ida to...To tell you...But I thought, well, I thought..." He swallowed. "I thought maybe if I didn't know, you would."
He watched her, waiting for something to register on her face. She deadpanned slightly, kept a perfect poker face.
"I'd know what, Doctor?"
"Oh, you know." He waved his hands slightly, handling the situation as stupidly as he had predicted. "If you, if..."
"If you...Loved me or not?"
A silence was swapped between them, an awed quiet that seemed to linger there for some time. The Doctor chose not to break it, and simply stood there, mouth slightly agape, trying to move his eyes from Rose's but this time failing. She continued.
"If, I loved you or not?"
"Yes." The Doctor answered abruptly, instantly.
Then Rose, pushed on by his abruptness. "Well I do."
The Doctor's eyes bulged. "What?"
Rose became defensive. "What?"
And then the Doctor finally understood, amongst all the madness. "I do too."
Then it was Rose's time to be bowled over."What?"
The Doctor was positive this time."Yeah!"
Rose scarcely believed it, somehow. "Really?"
Both at once now. "Brilliant!"
Then the quiet followed once more, and they cleared their throats, both smiling stupidly, Rose biting her lip, The Doctor rocking on the balls of his feet. This was a lot easier than he had expected it to be! And it had been so quick!
His eyes moved back to hers, and the intense hazel brown drew him in so fiercely that he couldn't help but leave his spot by the door and go to her. She waited there, looking up at him breathlessly and then he took her face in his hands so desperately he was almost rough, and pulled her face to his so their lips met. He could hardly control himself as his lips worked against hers, and suddenly his hands were in her hair and on her waist, and he was pulling her so tightly against him, as if he wanted her to climb inside of him, that all she could do was wilt in his grasp and succumb to what she wanted, too.
They stood there in the wardrobe room for some time, kissing, being together, allowing their new feelings and their new situation to release into the atmosphere, and the Tardis glowed in delight as she watched, and the Doctor couldn't think anything but Rose's name as he kissed her and held her, and understood that finally they were together, and that it was all he had ever wanted since he had taken her hand so long ago and told her to 'run'.
Finally, it was Rose who pulled away, and she left her hands resting on his chest as she looked up at him and spoke, her eyes wide and bright, but suddenly filled with even more fear than before.
"But...It said...It said I was gonna die..."
"Rose," the Doctor took her face in her hands, and he looked at her with all the fierce intensity he could muster. "Nothing will tear us apart. Do you understand me?" And she nodded slightly, but it was a somewhat empty nod. Her hands slid from his chest and she sighed.
He looked at her, and then he took her hand carefully in his, and smiled. She tilted her face up to view his once more, and she smiled too.
"How long are you gonna stay with me?"
Rose's grin widened, and she squeezed his hand.
And now here he was, hand pressed to a white washed wall, staring ahead, listening to the sound of her cries a distance away, hearing the agonised sobs of the girl he would and would ever love, on the other side of the wall, an entire world away. He could hear her. Why could he hear her? Echoes in his mind. Could he really hear her? He knew she would be crying.
And so would he.Review?