A/N: Here is chapter two. I hope you like it.I was having a bit of a roadblock with the story overall and was hoping to have more of it done before posting again but I figured its been long enough. A variety of classes, friends, family and weather also conspired to make my life ridiculously busy and stressful-blame all of that-not me.
Disclaimer:I don't "officially" or "legally" own Doctor Who, but really its just a technicality.
The room was very similar to his own and, sure enough, there was Rose. She was hooked up to a machine similar to his except she was held against the wall, standing instead of in a chair as he had been. Her face was screwed up in pain and she seemed to be muttering to herself, eyes moving rapidly under closed eyelids.
When the door banged open the two men in the room, an interrogator and a guard, turned to see who was there. "Who are you?" asked the interrogator with a frown, flicking a switch as he stared at the Doctor in confusion.
"Do you have clearance to be in here?" the guard demanded, as the intruder didn't look familiar; he wasn't wearing the uniform, but he had to have known the combination in order to get into the room.
Rose's eyes slowly opened in response to the quiet that followed the machine being turned off. Was he here? Her tired head lifted, aching and there in the doorway was the Doctor, looking more murderous than she had ever seen him. "Doctor!" Relief and joy filled her voice.
"Rose, it's fine. I'm here to get you. We're leaving," his tone left no room for argument, confident to the point where it almost seemed to dare someone to try and stop him.
The two captors seemed to want to take up that challenge. "This prisoner isn't going anywhere. Detain him."
The guard moved forward as if to do just that but the Doctor was faster. Soon the guard was on the ground from the taser the Doctor had kept. When he moved to do the same to the other man, the taser seemed to have finally run out of power. He shook it before dropping it dismissively, moving toward Rose and the interrogator.
The man hastily began backing away, aiming to call for security but the Doctor sensed his intent and headed him off, "Oh no, you don't." He blocked the other's path. "Get her down. Right. Now."
The man seemed to find a bit of insane bravery, "No, you can't leave with her." As soon as the words left his mouth he wished he hadn't said them. The Doctor's eyes hardened and he reached over, jabbing him in the neck. Instantly the man's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he fell to the ground. The Doctor grimaced, he hadn't wanted to incapacitate the man. Well, actually, he wanted to do far more than that, but he knew he would eventually regret such actions. So instead he had channeled the excess electrical energy he had from his own guard's attempt at tasering him and sent it through this man through a pressure point. He would come to soon enough.
The Doctor raced over to Rose. Aside from her outburst when he first came in she had been rather quiet and the Doctor could see that whatever the machine had been doing to her was definitely harmful. She was hanging limply, pale and shaking. "Rose…" he said gently, all trace of anger gone, replaced by helplessness and worry for his companion.
She wearily opened her eyes, the effort to shout out from before having exhausted her. Before she had been holding out for him, knowing, hoping he would come get her. Telling herself, just a bit longer. Now that he was here she had not only felt enormous relief but also allowed the overwhelming exhaustion to overcome her, knowing she was safe. "Doctor," she gave him a tired smile.
"Oh, Rose," he reached up to untie her, "what have they done to you?"
She got a far off look in her eyes, "I'm not quite sure. First my head just hurt for a while and I started feeling really tired, like I'd run a marathon." The Doctor was going as fast as he could but these cloths weren't meant to be untied easily. There were no sharp implements around to cut them with and he no longer had the Gallifryan equivalent of adrenaline running through him making tearing them impossible. He hadn't expected her to answer as it had mainly been a rhetorical question, but now that she started talking he found he needed to know exactly what was causing her to have that look in her eyes. He wished he had found out more before taking out the guards in his room. Besides, he could tell that she seemed to want to get it off her chest.
She swallowed, words still echoing through her head like so many ghosts. "Then the pain in my head got really intense before fading away. I thought they had finally stopped. But then I saw her."
"Who?" He had one hand free now, and gently lowered her arm to his shoulder though she still winced because it had gotten quite stiff.
"It was me, but not. It was like an evil clone or something. It looked like me, knew what I knew but it hated me. The machine created it, made it appear, but it couldn't tell the machine anything. It started to talk to me. It said secret things, things only I knew and…"
He winced. Now he knew what that man had meant by psychological. It seemed to play on your deepest fears and insecurities and desires. He wished he could get this knot out faster, get them out of here. Each second they stayed here meant it was that much less time they had to escape. He also couldn't help but listen intently, needing to know everything they did to his Rose. The more he heard, the quicker his anger returned, and any guilt he had begun to feel about tasering those guards was quickly receding.
"It made me feel so….horrible, just completely horrible." She shuddered, closing her eyes. The things the other version of her still echoed through her head. Not good enough. Never going to love you. Useless. Weak. Stupid ape. Handicap. Idiot. Trouble magnet. Worthless. All her fears and insecurities, especially about the Doctor, laid bare and stomped on. Ground into the dirt, confirmed. She shut down hard on the memories.
"Shh. It's okay. All gone now. Here, look at me," he turned her face towards him. She looked into his eyes, "Whatever it told you couldn't be true because you, Rose Tyler, are absolutely fantastic, yeah?"
She smiled weakly. "Good, because it's time to come down now." He punctuated that with the loosening of the knot, her other arm finally free. However, she started to fall, surprised that her legs wouldn't seem to support her. Standing for so long in that position had made them go to sleep, almost numb—mostly likely on purpose by her captors.
The Dotor knew she was going down a split second after she herself realized it and quickly moved to catch her, not a difficult task due to the fact he was still right there. He slowly lowered her to the ground.
"I'm so tired…" Rose managed, closing her eyes again.
"I know, it's a side effect of that bloody machine," the Doctor told her. They had evidently found that along with mental warfare, exhaustion was a powerful tongue loosener. After all, if you're so tired you can't see straight, it's hard to even remember why or why not you're suppose to answer questions. Couple that with long-term mental attacks and he wasn't surprised their interrogation methods worked as well as they boasted.
"Come on, Rose," she seemed to be slipping back into the depressive thoughts that she had been immersed in for the past few hours. She had only held them off for so long because of him.
Her head was killing her, like someone had hit her over the head with a hammer, repeatedly. But anything was better than the memories. She strained, trying to keep them away. She looked up at the Doctor, who was crouched over her. Her wide eyes implored him as she spoke wearily and yet with a kind of nervous anxiety, "Doctor…please. Just take me home."
"Of course" Anything, everything, he added silently as he gathered her up in his arms, seeing as she was in no condition to crawl, let alone run out of this hellhole. She was so light. He looked down at her for a second before he focused his attention on getting them out.
She gave a small squeak of surprise when he picked her up and began to make his way out of the room. Was he really holding her? The jostling made her head hurt more, although the pain was starting to recede, something she was infinitely grateful for. She rested her head on his chest and he pulled her closer, bracing her from the now slightly bumpier ride, he was running. She heard some faint shouts but simply pressed closer. The world in her head and the Doctor's arms seem much more real than whatever else was going on.
She was in no hurry to move; here in his arms she was safe, always safe. She kept her eyes closed. She clung to his jacket; sure her fingernails must be leaving little crescents in the supple leather. Part of her felt bad, she did like his jacket, didn't want to mess it up, but another part rather liked the idea that they would remain, a little mark that she had been there. Besides, he surely wouldn't care. She knew him well enough, he cared very little for his clothes, even less than a typical guy: as long as they were in one piece he was fine.
She could feel every step he made, his strides forming a rhythm she was familiar with even if she was usually beside him instead of being carried by him. It was immensely comforting, especially coupled with his scent. It was filtering into her, slowly filling her until she was almost drunk on it, making her sleepy instead of merely tired. She decided that scent was entirely to blame for her actions; she snuggled closer to him and his double heart beating in his chest.
The Doctor looked down at Rose in his arms. She was so light, so warm, so fragile. He had come far too close to losing her today. When she moved closer, a light smile on her face, he couldn't help but tighten his grip, making sure there was absolutely no chance he would let her fall. Her resilience once again astounding him, that she could smile so soon after. Perhaps she was still in shock. Of course she was, he snapped at himself, but perhaps even more than he had thought. What if they had done permanent damage to his Rose?
He studied her more closely, barely sparing the mental attention to keep running in the right direction, to avoid crashing. He focused his mind on sensing hers. She had been harmed obviously, but he could sense no irreparable damage. Ones who had lost their minds or were lost in them had a certain feeling around them, one which he could sense as a Time Lord. Focusing his mental abilities as well as he could in the circumstances, he could sense no truly lasting damage. Wounds certainly, their very presence causing him pain as she should never have them, but nothing that wouldn't heal with time.
He finally reached the TARDIS and had to rearrange her a bit in order to slip the key in. She made a soft sound: a bit of a sigh, a bit of surprise and a bit of discomfort at having been dislodged from her spot in his embrace. He smiled down at her, almost indulgently, if not for the lingering sadness he couldn't banish from his gaze, and murmured quieting sounds as he opened the doors. He shut them firmly behind, not loudly, as that might push her further in her shock, but loud enough that she knew they were closed.
He could sense some of the remaining tension that hadn't dissipated with his arrival leave her body and she went a bit limper in his arms, relief flooding through her. However, the relief almost opened the door that had slammed shut on her recent memories when the Doctor came to save her. Now that she had thoughts to spare, thoughts freed up by safety, she had to lean heavily on that door in order for it to stay shut.
He could see her retreat a bit more into herself but painfully acknowledged his own inability to help her at this stage. He strode up to the console and, with no small amount of difficulty, managed to get them out of there and into the vortex. He suspected that the TARDIS was trying her best to help, sensing Rose's distress as well as his own. However, there was nothing she could do with regards to the coordinate sequence and steering he now needed to do.
He glanced down at Rose, face pressed against his jacket, grip still tight and his hearts ached for her. He wished there was something he could do or say, but he hadn't the faintest idea. He nudged her gently, walking toward the captain's seat. "Gonna have to put you down in order to set the coordinates," he informed her gently.
She stirred, a frown coming over her face. She didn't expect to go somewhere new so soon. In fact, she expected to have to fight with him to leave ever, over protective him. "Coordinates? Are we going somewhere?" she asked, letting her confusion color her tone.
He frowned lightly as well. Half from his own confusion and half from apparently adding to her distress, "Well, you said you wanted to go home, yeah? So in order to get there I need to set coordinates for your mum's." Was she losing her memory as well?
Her face cleared. "Oh, no," she said, relaxing and closing her eyes once more, "I didn't mean my mum's place. I meant here, the TARDIS." She sunk back against him, "Home" she murmured.
He stared at the pink and yellow girl in his arms. Home… This was her home? He had hoped she might see it that way, but to hear her say it… His hearts filled up. Oh Rose. Beautiful, lovely, fantastic Rose.
He tightened his grip on her briefly, a sort of hug. "Where do you want to go then? Your room?"
"Don't care," came her muffled reply, "Just don't leave. Don't wanna be alone. Please." She was past caring about sounding weak or needy. Her strength was all used up, her mind weary from the ordeal she had been put through as well as trying to block it out. She just wanted her Doctor.
"Rose…" she pushed closer in response. She loved it when he said her name like that, though she was forever unaware of what she had done to deserve such a reverent tone.
He made a decision and began to make his way out of the console room. The TARDIS sensed his intent and chimed her approval, moving the desired destination closer.
A/N:There it is: chapter two. Hope it was good and still in character. Please, please review. Nothing motivates more as you know. Thanks again for reading. :D