It Was Worth It
Title - It Was Worth It (Part 1 of 3)
Characters - Ten, Rose, mentions of Jackie
Genre - Post Doomsday reunion fic. Angst
Spoilers - Mentions of Series 3 final
Summary - He once believed that nothing could survive in Hell, he knows now that he was wrong.
It Was Worth It
He watches her from the shadows cast upon him by the living room door, he’s not more than a shadow himself now. She crosses the floor in darkness, with the ease of familiarity, not needing the aid or comfort of light. He no longer knows of names, but he remembers her, knows her face, though warped with sadness and loss and time. When he sees her he knows her only as salvation. He feels he has lost so much, and yet remembers not of what he lost, all he knows is the Tardis, no more than a dying shell, that took him across the Howling, all the while stalked by shadows and darkness. He’s afraid of anything new, everything, and almost pines for his cave like abode that no longer breathes. He’s lost everything, including himself, and yet when he sees her through the kitchen door, pouring herself a glass of water, face lit up in only the grey starlight streaming in through the open window. Her blonde hair glinting almost like glitter, the halo of an angel framing her face. She belongs in the light he remembers, oh so long ago, shining like the sun. He feels hope. He’s home, he knows, at last.
He didn’t realise he had moved closer to her, he was like a moth to her flame, his instinct told him to bask in her glow, to bury himself under her skin, to be one with her. She lets out a strangled shriek of surprise as she realises she is not alone in the room that she crosses. His hand clasps hers as she takes a hasty step back onto a TV remote left carelessly on the floor and almost falls. As soon as fingers find fingers she relaxes. He too finds the gesture soothing, like a comfort blanket, though he can’t quite remember why. Her hand in his makes the universe stop spinning, stops the aching pain in his chest, stops the lonely echo inside his mind. He looks at her and her at him, and even in the darkness she knows. And he knows. And everything is ok again.
He is utterly silent as he steps towards her, dropping to his knees and wraps his arms around her. He utters not a sob, though he’s crying, not a breath of her name as it eludes him, he wants to claim her ‘his own’, but he does not know if that is truth. And so he buries his nose into her navel and wets her night shirt with his tears. He won’t ever let go, and she does not move to make him. Her fingers find his hair and gently caress. She is falling apart as well he knows, but she says nothing. She just traces the contours of his face with her fingertips until she comes across a part she does not know. A part that makes him flinch with pain.
She takes his hand and leads him up the many stairs to her room, locking the door behind her. She strips him gently of his clothes and observes wounds upon his flesh. Some old and healing, some open, red and raw with infection. Some she can’t see at all, they are purely psychological. There are many bad things in the Void, and he has been hunted by them all. The Tardis died, and its outer hull was the only thing that saved him from the creatures outside. He once believed that nothing could survive in Hell, he knows now that he was wrong.
She wipes down his body with a damp cloth from the en-suite bathroom and wraps him in a fluffy towel. She tucks him safely into her bed as if he was a small child and he lies there shivering, though not from the cold. After several torturous minutes she crawls under the covers beside him and holds him tight, and it is her now who swears she’ll never let go. His hand finds its way under her shirt and presses cool and possessive over her stomach. She freezes under his touch, but soon realise that this advance isn’t sexual. It is merely skin seeking skin. He requires the comfort of her touch to get him through the night.
Characters - Ten, Rose, mentions of Jackie
Genre - Post Doomsday reunion fic. Angst
Spoilers - Mentions of Series 3 final
Summary - He once believed that nothing could survive in Hell, he knows now that he was wrong.
It Was Worth It
He watches her from the shadows cast upon him by the living room door, he’s not more than a shadow himself now. She crosses the floor in darkness, with the ease of familiarity, not needing the aid or comfort of light. He no longer knows of names, but he remembers her, knows her face, though warped with sadness and loss and time. When he sees her he knows her only as salvation. He feels he has lost so much, and yet remembers not of what he lost, all he knows is the Tardis, no more than a dying shell, that took him across the Howling, all the while stalked by shadows and darkness. He’s afraid of anything new, everything, and almost pines for his cave like abode that no longer breathes. He’s lost everything, including himself, and yet when he sees her through the kitchen door, pouring herself a glass of water, face lit up in only the grey starlight streaming in through the open window. Her blonde hair glinting almost like glitter, the halo of an angel framing her face. She belongs in the light he remembers, oh so long ago, shining like the sun. He feels hope. He’s home, he knows, at last.
He didn’t realise he had moved closer to her, he was like a moth to her flame, his instinct told him to bask in her glow, to bury himself under her skin, to be one with her. She lets out a strangled shriek of surprise as she realises she is not alone in the room that she crosses. His hand clasps hers as she takes a hasty step back onto a TV remote left carelessly on the floor and almost falls. As soon as fingers find fingers she relaxes. He too finds the gesture soothing, like a comfort blanket, though he can’t quite remember why. Her hand in his makes the universe stop spinning, stops the aching pain in his chest, stops the lonely echo inside his mind. He looks at her and her at him, and even in the darkness she knows. And he knows. And everything is ok again.
He is utterly silent as he steps towards her, dropping to his knees and wraps his arms around her. He utters not a sob, though he’s crying, not a breath of her name as it eludes him, he wants to claim her ‘his own’, but he does not know if that is truth. And so he buries his nose into her navel and wets her night shirt with his tears. He won’t ever let go, and she does not move to make him. Her fingers find his hair and gently caress. She is falling apart as well he knows, but she says nothing. She just traces the contours of his face with her fingertips until she comes across a part she does not know. A part that makes him flinch with pain.
She takes his hand and leads him up the many stairs to her room, locking the door behind her. She strips him gently of his clothes and observes wounds upon his flesh. Some old and healing, some open, red and raw with infection. Some she can’t see at all, they are purely psychological. There are many bad things in the Void, and he has been hunted by them all. The Tardis died, and its outer hull was the only thing that saved him from the creatures outside. He once believed that nothing could survive in Hell, he knows now that he was wrong.
She wipes down his body with a damp cloth from the en-suite bathroom and wraps him in a fluffy towel. She tucks him safely into her bed as if he was a small child and he lies there shivering, though not from the cold. After several torturous minutes she crawls under the covers beside him and holds him tight, and it is her now who swears she’ll never let go. His hand finds its way under her shirt and presses cool and possessive over her stomach. She freezes under his touch, but soon realise that this advance isn’t sexual. It is merely skin seeking skin. He requires the comfort of her touch to get him through the night.