Plus One (1/1)
Title: Plus One
Author: dqbunny
Pairing: Nine/Rose
Rating: PG
Spoilers: For 1x02 "The End of the World"
Notes: Written for the Time in Flux Ficathon. Takes place during the last scene of "The End of the World." All recognizeable dialogue is from the original episode, and all disclaimers apply. I've noticed that most stories take a look at events from Rose's point of view. This is my attempt at getting inside the Doctor's stubborn head. The title of the story comes from a line at the beginning of the episode where the Doctor introduces Rose as his "plus one."
"Everything has its time." He could almost feel Rose's wince as he snapped the words at her, after she implored him to save Cassandra. Yet, at the same time, the Doctor was amazed. It seemed that once again, humans could amaze him. After all that Cassandra had put them through with her lies and schemes, Rose had turned to him and did the exact thing that proved her very humanity -- she showed compassion.
The Doctor had to leave. He couldn't stay there, not with Rose's sadness, some nagging guilt and the odd staring coming from the Face of Boe, as if the being somehow knew him. He saw to the departure of several of the ships. Once the last of the party-goers had fled the station, he went in search of her.
He found Rose standing alone. The window in front of her was so enormous that she appeared no bigger than a pixie he'd met on Gruangm. Earth had turned into a huge fireball, and the glow from the burning planet illuminated Rose as she turned to greet him. Something hitched in his chest when he saw the unshed tears in her eyes.
"The end of the Earth," she managed when he reached her, and refocused on her world. "It's gone," she said after a moment.
He wasn't seeing Earth at that point. A world, brightly burning, having met its end in a sea of fire. That planet hadn't been empty, hadn't been ready for its natural death. It had teemed with life, even if he hadn't always sided with his fellow Time Lords. Now, just a handful of time relatively speaking since he had press the button, he had dragged a mere human to the end of time to make her go through the same thing he had.
Brilliant, his conscious scolded him. Absolutely fantastic. What's on the agenda for your next trip? Immersion in a concentration camp during World War II?
"We were too busy saving ourselves in order to watch it go," Rose continued, shaking him out of his own thoughts. Her voice choked. "All those years, all that history and no one was even looking. It's just ..." Her eyes closed and he saw her throat work, her visual struggle to keep from breaking down.
That hitch he felt earlier happened again, more like a slow roll this time as he observed her. He had looked. He made himself look, made himself feel the same feeling of lost and emptiness that she had to be feeling right now. All those years, all those people, all that history ... just him now. Just him and the TARDIS and this one human who just watched her world end in a fiery eruption and remained strong enough not to cry.
The Doctor envied her.
He extended his hand. "Come with me," he urged. She stared at it for a moment before letting him lead her away. Their walk back to the TARDIS was in silence, the ensuing trip lacking in joy that their previous arrival had. When the TARDIS settled with a bump, he urged her to go out the door first. He had gone for London, around the time they had initially left. He watched from the doorway of the TARDIS as she took in her world with the familiar stare of a glassy-eyed survivor.
She had absolutely no idea he was giving her what he could never give himself -- a chance to see her world safe, thriving, and whole.
"You think you'll last forever," the Doctor commented as he joined her, "people and cars and concrete. But it won't." His gaze shot to the sky where the still-benign sun shone above them. "One day, it's all gone. Even the sky."
Rose didn't say anything for a moment and he weighed the decision in his mind, turning it over and over again. He opened his mouth to say something else. He really did. But, he thought of Rose watching her world disappear, of her strength, and how she didn't cry and the words slipped out. "My world's gone."
Beside him, Rose startled and the shock passed. "It's dead," he continued and glanced down to see the surprise, the compassion in her eyes. "It burned like the Earth. It's just rocks and dust. Before its time."
"What happened?" Rose asked, speaking a bit louder to be heard over the crowd pushing past them in the street.
And he told her -- the basics, anyhow. He told her there had been a war, that they had lost. He told her that he was a Time Lord, that traveling with him was dangerous.
Then he asked the question that he didn't want to ask. "Do you want to go home?" he queried, not daring to look at her as he did so.
"I don't know." Rose hesitated and the Doctor wondered what was going on in her brain. Suddenly, her gaze averted and she sniffed. "Do you smell chips?"
The tightness inside his chest eased and he found a smile. "Yeah."
He let Rose tug him toward the chip place, let her make him laugh with absurd stories about Mickey and theories on who Cassandra might have been before she turned into a piece of elastic skin. They wandered from shop to shop arm in arm, taking their time as they made their way back to the TARDIS.
"I don't want to go home," Rose commented as they stepped back inside. "That is, if you don't mind the company."
"I'd never ask if I didn't want it," he told her honestly.
Then she surprised him. It certainly wasn't the first time that Rose Tyler had surprised the Doctor, and as he later learned, it would be far from the last. She suddenly hugged him, squeezing him so tightly that he felt she was trying to push the warmth, the emotion, the humanity from her body into his. "I'm sorry you went through it alone," she managed, and this time he felt her tears, wet and hit against his shirt.
And it moved him.
Rose Tyler, who had the strength, grace, and courage not to cry when her planet was destroyed, was now crying over the loss of his. His arms came up, around her, and he held her as she cried for him.
They remained like that, silhouetted against the open door of the TARDIS as the sun went down behind them. Then she lifted her face, pressing a kiss to his lips. His eyes widened with surprise, with shock. He'd never been kissed in this body. Been years, really, since he'd been kissed at all. She tasted like salt and vinegar. Tears and chips, he thought absently. When she drew away, he knew in that instant that he would never let Rose Tyler go.
Author: dqbunny
Pairing: Nine/Rose
Rating: PG
Spoilers: For 1x02 "The End of the World"
Notes: Written for the Time in Flux Ficathon. Takes place during the last scene of "The End of the World." All recognizeable dialogue is from the original episode, and all disclaimers apply. I've noticed that most stories take a look at events from Rose's point of view. This is my attempt at getting inside the Doctor's stubborn head. The title of the story comes from a line at the beginning of the episode where the Doctor introduces Rose as his "plus one."
"Everything has its time." He could almost feel Rose's wince as he snapped the words at her, after she implored him to save Cassandra. Yet, at the same time, the Doctor was amazed. It seemed that once again, humans could amaze him. After all that Cassandra had put them through with her lies and schemes, Rose had turned to him and did the exact thing that proved her very humanity -- she showed compassion.
The Doctor had to leave. He couldn't stay there, not with Rose's sadness, some nagging guilt and the odd staring coming from the Face of Boe, as if the being somehow knew him. He saw to the departure of several of the ships. Once the last of the party-goers had fled the station, he went in search of her.
He found Rose standing alone. The window in front of her was so enormous that she appeared no bigger than a pixie he'd met on Gruangm. Earth had turned into a huge fireball, and the glow from the burning planet illuminated Rose as she turned to greet him. Something hitched in his chest when he saw the unshed tears in her eyes.
"The end of the Earth," she managed when he reached her, and refocused on her world. "It's gone," she said after a moment.
He wasn't seeing Earth at that point. A world, brightly burning, having met its end in a sea of fire. That planet hadn't been empty, hadn't been ready for its natural death. It had teemed with life, even if he hadn't always sided with his fellow Time Lords. Now, just a handful of time relatively speaking since he had press the button, he had dragged a mere human to the end of time to make her go through the same thing he had.
Brilliant, his conscious scolded him. Absolutely fantastic. What's on the agenda for your next trip? Immersion in a concentration camp during World War II?
"We were too busy saving ourselves in order to watch it go," Rose continued, shaking him out of his own thoughts. Her voice choked. "All those years, all that history and no one was even looking. It's just ..." Her eyes closed and he saw her throat work, her visual struggle to keep from breaking down.
That hitch he felt earlier happened again, more like a slow roll this time as he observed her. He had looked. He made himself look, made himself feel the same feeling of lost and emptiness that she had to be feeling right now. All those years, all those people, all that history ... just him now. Just him and the TARDIS and this one human who just watched her world end in a fiery eruption and remained strong enough not to cry.
The Doctor envied her.
He extended his hand. "Come with me," he urged. She stared at it for a moment before letting him lead her away. Their walk back to the TARDIS was in silence, the ensuing trip lacking in joy that their previous arrival had. When the TARDIS settled with a bump, he urged her to go out the door first. He had gone for London, around the time they had initially left. He watched from the doorway of the TARDIS as she took in her world with the familiar stare of a glassy-eyed survivor.
She had absolutely no idea he was giving her what he could never give himself -- a chance to see her world safe, thriving, and whole.
"You think you'll last forever," the Doctor commented as he joined her, "people and cars and concrete. But it won't." His gaze shot to the sky where the still-benign sun shone above them. "One day, it's all gone. Even the sky."
Rose didn't say anything for a moment and he weighed the decision in his mind, turning it over and over again. He opened his mouth to say something else. He really did. But, he thought of Rose watching her world disappear, of her strength, and how she didn't cry and the words slipped out. "My world's gone."
Beside him, Rose startled and the shock passed. "It's dead," he continued and glanced down to see the surprise, the compassion in her eyes. "It burned like the Earth. It's just rocks and dust. Before its time."
"What happened?" Rose asked, speaking a bit louder to be heard over the crowd pushing past them in the street.
And he told her -- the basics, anyhow. He told her there had been a war, that they had lost. He told her that he was a Time Lord, that traveling with him was dangerous.
Then he asked the question that he didn't want to ask. "Do you want to go home?" he queried, not daring to look at her as he did so.
"I don't know." Rose hesitated and the Doctor wondered what was going on in her brain. Suddenly, her gaze averted and she sniffed. "Do you smell chips?"
The tightness inside his chest eased and he found a smile. "Yeah."
He let Rose tug him toward the chip place, let her make him laugh with absurd stories about Mickey and theories on who Cassandra might have been before she turned into a piece of elastic skin. They wandered from shop to shop arm in arm, taking their time as they made their way back to the TARDIS.
"I don't want to go home," Rose commented as they stepped back inside. "That is, if you don't mind the company."
"I'd never ask if I didn't want it," he told her honestly.
Then she surprised him. It certainly wasn't the first time that Rose Tyler had surprised the Doctor, and as he later learned, it would be far from the last. She suddenly hugged him, squeezing him so tightly that he felt she was trying to push the warmth, the emotion, the humanity from her body into his. "I'm sorry you went through it alone," she managed, and this time he felt her tears, wet and hit against his shirt.
And it moved him.
Rose Tyler, who had the strength, grace, and courage not to cry when her planet was destroyed, was now crying over the loss of his. His arms came up, around her, and he held her as she cried for him.
They remained like that, silhouetted against the open door of the TARDIS as the sun went down behind them. Then she lifted her face, pressing a kiss to his lips. His eyes widened with surprise, with shock. He'd never been kissed in this body. Been years, really, since he'd been kissed at all. She tasted like salt and vinegar. Tears and chips, he thought absently. When she drew away, he knew in that instant that he would never let Rose Tyler go.