Title: Losing Time (1/1)
Author:
momdaegmorgan -
My master fic listRating: All ages
Spoilers: None
Characters/Pairings: Nine/Rose
Summary: When Rose falls ill can the Doctor save her?
Disclaimer: Doctor Who owns my soul. I own nothing.
Author's Note: Written for
Igrace for winning me in the
Support Stacie Author Auction Beta by
sinecure Go lightly down your darkened way
Go lightly under ground
I'll be down there in another day
I won't rest until you're found
Let me love you, let me rescue you
Arms aching with exhaustion, the Doctor surveyed his surroundings, searching for a safe, comfortable place to lay his precious burden down. It'd been five hours since they left the Hur'it village, five hours of carrying what equated to dead weight, and though he wasn't complaining any, he needed a break.
Spotting a small grove of trees that offered protection from the harsh light of the three suns, he lengthened his stride, covering the short distance as quickly as possible. It took him another minute to find a suitable cushioning of grass before he could settle Rose's unconscious body on the ground. He made her as comfortable as he could, then straightened to a standing position, trying to ignore what was staring him in the face.
Trying to ignore the realization that he wasn't going to make it in time.
But the pained sounds coming from her parted lips wouldn't let him escape the harsh reality of the situation. She was moaning restlessly and gasping for air. Her body was soaked with sweat, which ran off of her in rivulets, and the red flush that had before only stained her cheeks, was now covering most of her visible skin. While the fever burned, unrelenting, she shivered uncontrollably, arms and legs covered in goose flesh.
It was his fault. If he had warned her about the exotic--and in one case, deadly--fruit, if he had thought ahead before bringing her here, she wouldn't be lying at his feet close to death.
The TARDIS, and all its advanced medical equipment, was too far away. Even with his superior Time Lord physiology, there was no way he'd make it back in time. Unable to test her blood, to check for the source of the infection that was raging inside her, he couldn't treat her. And if he couldn't treat her--
Slamming his fist into the nearest tree, he yanked his thoughts away from that particular path. It should be so very simple. If she'd eaten a Brehora berry--purple, luscious, and oh, so tempting--all she needed was to ingest the stem of the same berry and she'd be right as rain in no time. But, and this was a very big but, if she hadn't fallen ill from the forbidden fruit, and it was a simple virus she was suffering from, and he administered the same cure, she'd succumb to respiratory failure.
And there'd be nothing on this planet or any other that could save her.
Pacing the forest floor, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. He had to think. There had to be some other way. But the truth of the matter was, there wasn't. He just didn't have the resources he needed. The sonic screwdriver couldn't perform the diagnostic test on her blood that he needed to do. And the small villages that dotted the countryside were still so far back in the dark ages that they didn't even have a notion about sanitary practices, much less a needle or a centrifuge.
Pivoting on his heels, he turned about, facing the direction he'd just come from. Facing Rose. Seeing her lying there, so pale and helpless, he made a decision. He might not be able to ask her if she'd eaten one of the berries, but there was still another way. It might not be a way he was completely comfortable with--her either--but it was the only way left to him.
He quickly crossed the short distance between them and knelt by her side. Brushing his fingers lightly over her hot skin, he settled them against her cheeks and temple. It'd been years since he'd last gone inside someone's mind. Years since he'd even thought about it. But now wasn't the time for hesitation. Whatever was eating Rose up inside was spreading fast, and if he didn't take care of it soon, there might not be anything left he could do.
With one last, deep breath, the Doctor entered Rose's mind.
~~~
Every person's mind, like their personality, was different, unique. Some read like books, pages upon pages of memories just waiting to be flipped through. Some were like dusty old attics, filled with boxes of feelings, packed away for a rainy day. Some had long hallways filled with an eclectic assortment of doors that opened into their darkest thoughts and desires.
There were almost as many methods for storage as there were species in the universe.
He'd never really thought about what it would be like inside Rose's mind. If he had, he'd probably have imagined something pink and feminine, not at all like the place he found himself in, upon opening his eyes.
The room was huge, cavernous, void of anything except the single light of blue that hung in its center. There were no doors, no boxes, no books, nothing of what he would expect to find in a room full of memories. But, there was a prevailing sense of darkness beyond the pool of light he stood within, a darkness that did not allow for one to see more than a few feet in any direction.
It was calm and peaceful here, almost, in a strange sort of way; Zen-like. It brought to the surface of his own mind memories of the time he'd spent in a Buddhist temple on Earth, or when he'd awakened amongst the empathic race of the Heraforns, who'd taken the practice of pacifism to an all new level.
This was...surprising, to say the least. Especially considering her current physical health. The state of the mind was normally in direct correlation to the state of the body, and vice versa. When one wasn't functioning at its optimum, neither was the other. But instead of finding the effects of the illness that was ravaging her body here, he found nothing, no hint at all that she was quickly approaching death's door.
Turning around in a circle, trying to get his bearings, he found himself face to face with a bemused looking Rose. “Hello,” she said, a twinkle in her eyes and a hint of laughter in her voice.
“Rose,” he whispered, taken off-guard for a moment, feeling a surge of emotions rise up in him. Quickly tamping them down, he raised a brow in her direction, trying to cover up the feelings as his eyes roamed over her form.
She looked good, healthy, not at all like the image that was burned into his mind. Her tongue was poking out from between her teeth, hands resting teasingly on her hips, and he wondered if she was even aware of the danger she was in. If she was aware that this wasn't real.
"Rose," he began quietly, not wanting to frighten her. He took her face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs across her cheeks. "You're dying. I need to know what--"
"I know." She smiled softly at him. “It was the berry. I'm sorry.” Her gaze slid across his face, landing on a spot just over his shoulder.
He shook his head. “No. It's not your fault. You didn't know it was poisonous.” His hands dropped uselessly to his sides. “It's mine. I should've told you about them, should've warned you.”
Just like he should've warned her about paradoxes and Daleks, how on his bad days, he was able to admit that most humans were only looking out for themselves no matter how far back or forward you went in time. Deadly berries and paralyzing bug bites, sunlight that could char your skin in a matter of minutes and moonlight filled with poisonous gas...all of these things he should've told her about. Warned her about.
"Don't be daft,” she said with a roll of her eyes, exasperation tingeing her voice. “What're you gonna do, start handing out lists of everything dangerous on the planets we visit?”
He raised a questioning eyebrow at her, studied her face for a moment. But all he saw there was the same Rose Tyler looking back at him.
“Besides,” her smile returned to her face, “you'll save me.”
There was so much trust behind those words, so much trust in the way she looked at him, and he stared long and hard at her, trying to comprehend how she could do it. How she could be so calm about this, so sure he'd fix the problem before it was too late.
Even he didn't have that confidence in himself, couldn't convince himself that everything would be all right.
He'd been too late before, lost other companions, whole other planets too, because of his ineptness. She shouldn't just blindly put her faith in him, shouldn't just trust that he'd...
She laughed gently, taking his hands in hers and squeezing them reassuringly. “You're too hard on yourself, Doctor, you know that?”
He took a step backward, eyes widening on her. He hadn't said that last bit out loud, and he wasn't projecting his thoughts. In fact, in order to protect Rose from the possibility, no matter how remote, of happening across any stray thought of his, he'd put up mental blocks. Enough that he could've kept even the most skilled telepath out.
Somehow she'd heard it anyway. Got inside his head. He opened his mouth to ask her how, but she stopped him by pressing a finger to his lips.
“Go. Save me.” She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her lips pressed against his skin. Just for a moment. When he opened them again, he found that he was no longer inside her mind. She'd pushed him out, returned him to reality, to where her prone body still lay, writhing in pain on the forest floor.
~~~
He stood in the window, curtain tucked behind his frame, as he stared out into the moonless night. Tension draped across his shoulders, like the leather jacket that was his armor, protecting him from a world that didn't understand him and didn't care...until Rose.
A quick, backward glance assured him there was no change in her condition. She was no worse and no better than she'd been when he'd brought her here, seeking shelter for the night. They were too far away from the TARDIS, and her condition was still fragile enough that he didn't dare risk the long trek back.
He couldn't understand it. She should be better by now. Should've been better, up and about, almost immediately after he administered the cure. But she hadn't. She'd laid there, deaf to his pleas, until he'd finally had to do something, had to take them somewhere safe and warm to rest until morning.
Returning his attention back to the world outside, he tried to ignore the very real possibility that, despite all his efforts, she still might not make it.
~~~
“Rose.” The Doctor whispered her name like a prayer, gently stroking a finger across her flushed cheek.
She didn't move, didn't twitch a muscle at the contact. Just laid there, as still as before, as unmoving as she'd been for the last twenty-one hours. The only sign that she still resided in the overly heated-body beside him was the slow rise and fall of her chest. Three more hours of this and there'd be no hope for her. As it was, she was pushing the boundaries of recovery; no other species had made it this long without permanent damage.
But that was his Rose: never listening, never doing what she was supposed to do. Like reading his thoughts when she shouldn't have been able to. He still didn't know how she'd done it, but he had a feeling it wouldn't be the last time she surprised him.
The thought brought a smile to his face, despite the severity of the situation. If she wasn't going to give in, if she wasn't going to give up on him, then why should he do her the dishonor? She was strong and she could make it. If anyone could survive this it was her.
Removing his socks and boots and leather jacket, he slipped into bed beside her. The heat of her body beneath the covers was almost too much to bear, but he resisted the urge to toss the duvet off and scooted even closer to her.
He didn't think about the time she had left or telling Jackie how he'd lost her daughter. He didn't think about traveling in the TARDIS without her or the loneliness that he'd felt before meeting her. He didn't think about any of those things, just wrapped his arms around her, burying his head in her hair.
Enveloped in her scent, surrounded by the sound of her single beating heart, he closed his eyes and let sleep steal over him.
~~~
He was losing her.
It wasn't a conscious decision he made to kiss her, he just did it. One last goodbye.
It seemed as natural an act as if he'd been doing it for months. Which, in a way, he had been, just, in his dreams. He'd wanted her for so long now that he couldn't even remember a time when he hadn't.
Her lips were soft and inviting, just like he'd always imagined they'd be, and he wanted to lose himself in her taste. But she was unconscious, unaware of what he was doing and unable to join in, to kiss him back.
Reluctantly he broke the kiss. Tilting his head away from hers, he felt a hand grasping the back of his neck, nails scraping lightly across his scalp. Looking down in surprise, he found brown eyes gazing back at him. Familiar, dancing brown eyes, perfectly set in a healthy-looking face that was smiling up at him.
“ 'bout time,” he said gruffly. “Been waiting on you all night.”
She laughed, and it was the most wonderful thing he'd heard in a long time. Then, she took his head in her other hand and gently tugged him back down to her, pressing her lips to his in the way he'd hoped for seconds before.
He hesitated. Not because of nine hundred years of being told it was wrong to become involved with lesser beings. Not because of his own, self-imposed restrictions regarding his companions. And not because of some falsely perceived noble idea that to be with Rose would be to take advantage of her. No, he'd got past all that. Realized, when he almost lost her, that he'd lost track of the one thing a Time Lord shouldn't waste a single second of.
And he didn't want to do that any longer.
“Rose,” he breathed into her mouth, not quite strong enough to pull away completely, “you're ill.”
Her lips brushed back and forth across his as she shook her head. “Not anymore,” she mumbled, grasping one of his hands and moving it to the expanse of bare skin just above her shirt. It was cool to the touch; her fever had finally broken. Chest heaving up and down, no longer from the illness but from something else entirely, she looked up at him and bit her lip with a teasing smile that served as blatant invitation.
No longer willing to lose her to time, he dipped his head down and kissed her.