DW Fic: The Door
Title: The Door
Author: Tovie
Character/Pairing: Eleven/Rose
Rating: G
Summary: There's a room in the Tardis that the Doctor avoids. Or tries to avoid...
Disclaimer: Alas, the Doctor and Rose do not belong to me and have been borrowed from the BBC without permission.
Author's Notes: I'm a new fan and this is my first posted DW Fic.
There's a room in the TARDIS that the Doctor avoids. Or tries to avoid. It's right down that corridor there to the left and first door on the right. Not too far from his room.
Usually companions clean out their rooms when they leave the TARDIS and if they don't... or can't, the rooms just sort of fade away after a little while. The TARDIS cleaning house, making things a little easier for the Doctor. But sometimes the TARDIS doesn't cooperate.
New Doctor. New TARDIS. That old room should have burned away in the fires of regeneration. Gone. Like she's gone. Or at least banished to the twisted maze in the depths of the TARDIS where he doesn't have to see it every day.
But for some reason this room didn't... won't go away.
For a while he avoids it by going the long way around. Through the kitchen and around the library, approaching his room from the other direction. But then the TARDIS moves the library and he can't get through that way anymore.
She does that sometimes, rearranges things he doesn't want rearranged. He's not sure why.
So, he finds another way around. A long winding corridor that twists behind the swimming pool and around the hot tub. And several days later, the corridor becomes a jogging track that circles the pool.
So, defeated, he's back to the regular route. The one that passes that room. That door.
It's the same color as her name, that door. That amused her. But it's not the color that bothers him, or even, really, what lies behind it. It's the way it shimmers sometimes.
Oh, not if he stands in front of it and stares at it, or when he asks Amy if she sees anything unusual down that corridor. Oh, no, not then.
It's out of the corner of his eye, as he's walking by, or when he's tired, or the lights are dim. It shimmers then, shimmers and burns with dancing golden flames.
The same golden flames that burn in his dreams when he tries to sleep.
***
He's tired tonight. The end of a bad day. They almost died today, him and Amy and Rory, and while they survived, a lot of other people didn't. All he wants tonight is the oblivion of sleep.
He starts down the corridor toward his room, then stops short. He doesn't want to deal with that door tonight. Doesn't want to see it or think about it or...
Maybe he can sleep on the jumpseat, or the couch in the library. Then he looks down at his filthy clothes.
No. He wants a shower and a comfortable bed. Anger rises slowly. He's tired of this. Tired of the TARDIS playing games. Time to put an end to this.
He takes two more steps down the corridor and stops, his mouth dropping open in shock. The door's not shimmering tonight. It's not the usual pink with a few golden sparks dancing over it. It's a solid sheet of burning golden flame. Flame that doesn't disappear when he stares directly at it and confronts it.
He steps closer, standing right in front of it, and lifts a hand, brushing fingers lightly over the surface.
No, not quite solid. Etched into the surface, chest high, hearts high, are two words. Two words that he knows very, very well. Words that she scattered in time and space to save her Doctor. He shivers, not in fear but in anticipation.
It seems Rose Tyler isn't finished with the Doctor yet.
Author: Tovie
Character/Pairing: Eleven/Rose
Rating: G
Summary: There's a room in the Tardis that the Doctor avoids. Or tries to avoid...
Disclaimer: Alas, the Doctor and Rose do not belong to me and have been borrowed from the BBC without permission.
Author's Notes: I'm a new fan and this is my first posted DW Fic.
There's a room in the TARDIS that the Doctor avoids. Or tries to avoid. It's right down that corridor there to the left and first door on the right. Not too far from his room.
Usually companions clean out their rooms when they leave the TARDIS and if they don't... or can't, the rooms just sort of fade away after a little while. The TARDIS cleaning house, making things a little easier for the Doctor. But sometimes the TARDIS doesn't cooperate.
New Doctor. New TARDIS. That old room should have burned away in the fires of regeneration. Gone. Like she's gone. Or at least banished to the twisted maze in the depths of the TARDIS where he doesn't have to see it every day.
But for some reason this room didn't... won't go away.
For a while he avoids it by going the long way around. Through the kitchen and around the library, approaching his room from the other direction. But then the TARDIS moves the library and he can't get through that way anymore.
She does that sometimes, rearranges things he doesn't want rearranged. He's not sure why.
So, he finds another way around. A long winding corridor that twists behind the swimming pool and around the hot tub. And several days later, the corridor becomes a jogging track that circles the pool.
So, defeated, he's back to the regular route. The one that passes that room. That door.
It's the same color as her name, that door. That amused her. But it's not the color that bothers him, or even, really, what lies behind it. It's the way it shimmers sometimes.
Oh, not if he stands in front of it and stares at it, or when he asks Amy if she sees anything unusual down that corridor. Oh, no, not then.
It's out of the corner of his eye, as he's walking by, or when he's tired, or the lights are dim. It shimmers then, shimmers and burns with dancing golden flames.
The same golden flames that burn in his dreams when he tries to sleep.
***
He's tired tonight. The end of a bad day. They almost died today, him and Amy and Rory, and while they survived, a lot of other people didn't. All he wants tonight is the oblivion of sleep.
He starts down the corridor toward his room, then stops short. He doesn't want to deal with that door tonight. Doesn't want to see it or think about it or...
Maybe he can sleep on the jumpseat, or the couch in the library. Then he looks down at his filthy clothes.
No. He wants a shower and a comfortable bed. Anger rises slowly. He's tired of this. Tired of the TARDIS playing games. Time to put an end to this.
He takes two more steps down the corridor and stops, his mouth dropping open in shock. The door's not shimmering tonight. It's not the usual pink with a few golden sparks dancing over it. It's a solid sheet of burning golden flame. Flame that doesn't disappear when he stares directly at it and confronts it.
He steps closer, standing right in front of it, and lifts a hand, brushing fingers lightly over the surface.
No, not quite solid. Etched into the surface, chest high, hearts high, are two words. Two words that he knows very, very well. Words that she scattered in time and space to save her Doctor. He shivers, not in fear but in anticipation.
It seems Rose Tyler isn't finished with the Doctor yet.