Forever
@chocolatequeennk thinks it fun to bombard July with Doomsday angst. Apparently some of that has rubbed off on me because I wrote this! It’s angsty with a hopeful ending.
Ten x Rose, post Doomsday--she promised him forever and that’s a promise she intended to keep.
AO3 and Teaspoon
“How long are you going to stay with me?”
“Forever.” A vow. Promise.
Rose hadn’t lied. Not exactly. The Doctor knew this as he moved through life, one step in front of the other for no more reason than she said to. Wanted him to.
“Are you really going to stand there all day and stare at the monitor?” Rose asked from beside him on the jumpseat.
He didn’t turn, didn’t look. The Doctor never did, not after that once. But he answered, oh he always answered. “I’m searching for a way to reach the other universe.” He typed in another code and waited while his ship, his magnificent ship, searched for a one last hole between this universe and Rose’s. “Trying to find a way to Pete’s World.”
“You haven’t slept in a week, Doctor.” He almost felt her hand on his arm, caressing his fingers. Her breath a brush along his cheek. Almost. Always almost. “Get some rest. I’ll still be trapped there in an hour.”
The Doctor did turn then. A glimpse, a look, the smallest peek… but Rose wasn’t there. Of course she wasn’t. Rose wasn’t with him, on the TARDIS, as it should be. No, Rose, the real Rose, was trapped, as her voice reminded him, in another universe.
****
“Well, Donna was…interesting.” Not-Rose said from her customary not-seat next to him. “I think I liked her, though.”
“Yeah?” the Doctor ran a tired hand through his wet hair. “She was… loud.”
“Yes.” And he swore, from the corner of his eyes, Rose grinned at him, tongue teasing the corner of her mouth, brandy eyes sparkling with laughter. And love. “But more than a match for you. I like her.”
“She’s different,” he allowed. “But she’s not you.”
“I’m still here,” Rose, Not-Rose, promised. “Forever.”
****
“I’m rather fond of Galaxious,” Rose said as they wandered along the market stalls. The Doctor didn’t even bother to correct her pronunciation of the planet. Or the her-in-his-mind’s pronunciation of the planet. “Reminds me of that bazaar on—what was the name of the asteroid we went to with Jack?”
“Calamas,” he said and didn’t care who looked at him oddly as he talked to himself. Talked to the Rose still with him. “The one with the mint ice cream.”
Not-Rose giggled and slipped her hand through his arm. “Ohh, that was good. We should go there again.”
The Doctor piloted the TARDIS to Calamas… but didn’t step out. He couldn’t. Even with Not-Rose silent by his side, all he saw was her grinning up at him, all he heard was her laughter. All he felt was her hand in his as they ran from the vendor Jack angered with one too many innuendos.
“I’m still with you,” Not-Rose whispered. “Forever.”
She wasn’t wrong. Rose stayed with him even when he lost her to another dimension.
****
“Offer Martha a ride,” Rose said from her usual seat. She curled up against his overcoat, legs beneath her, head resting on one hand. “Even if you did kiss her.”
“It—it wasn’t like that!” the Doctor protested, but didn’t look around, didn’t see her. Once he moved his head, once he looked to where she ‘sat’ the illusion vanished. And he quite liked the illusion.
Love the illusion very, very much.
Not-Rose snorted. “She certainly thought so.”
“I thought you wanted me to offer her a ride!” he spluttered.
“I do. I don’t want you to be alone, Doctor. And Martha’s smart. She’s fast and curious. And she’s… here.” Not-Rose’s voice lowered. “Here when I can’t be.”
“You’re always here with me, Rose. Always, my love.”
“Comes easily to you, now, eh?” Rose’s voice, Not-Rose’s voice, was light but the Doctor heard the bitter undertone of regret. His bitter regret.
“Would that I had a hundred lifetimes, Rose Tyler, I’d never grow tired of saying it.”
“I love you, too. My Doctor. Now!” Her voice brightened in a thin approximation of his own I’m always all right tone. “Go offer Martha a trip!”
“She’s not you.”
“No,” Rose agreed. “But I’m always with you. Forever.”
****
He and Rose walked hand in hand (not-Rose, his hand felt painfully empty) down the street in 1969. Martha was at work and he used that excuse to sightsee with Rose. Tell her of his past lives, show her places he hadn’t seen in centuries and certainly not with these eyes.
“Come on, please?” Rose wheedled. “I want to see you when you were young!”
“No,” he told her as firmly as he ever told her no to anything. “It’s a bad idea. Might destroy the universe, the planet at the very least, and you haven’t been born yet.”
The Doctor swore he felt (Not) Rose’s phantom fingers squeeze his. “I’ll always be with you, my Doctor.”
“And I’ll always love you.” It had become easier to admit, with only her memory, her ghost, next to him. How much he loved her. Needed her.
****
“Why didn’t you tell me about Jack?” Rose asked as they waited for Martha to return from her food run.
“I didn’t want you to know.” From the corner of his eye, the Doctor saw Rose frown. Angry and disappointed and sad, so very sad. “I didn’t want you blaming yourself. I didn’t want you to remember what happened on that Game Station.” He sighed. “I didn’t want you leaving me.”
“You left him.”
“I saved you. That was all that mattered. That was all that was important. That was all I cared about.”
“Doctor,” Rose said, exasperated. “He’s our friend.”
“He’s not you, Rose. Not you, my love.”
“Doc!” Jack shouted and broke the Doctor’s illusion.
****
“Days of old, Doctor, you had companions who could absorb the Time Vortex.”
It was not the first time the Master said it. Probably wouldn’t be the last as he droned on and on about his ‘Master Plan’ for Earth and the galaxy. The Doctor didn’t care. He had his own plan. But more, he had Rose.
The Master continued on and on and on, and the Doctor barely paid him any attention. In his head, he and Rose ran through apple grass and made love with the sweet smelling air cushioning them. In his head, there was no hospital or cat-nuns or Cassandra.
In his head, Rose knew how much he loved her with every kiss, every caress, every touch. Every word, be it loving or shouting, she knew.
In his head, he was not confined to a wheelchair, old and weak as he integrated himself into the Archangel Matrix, but running, faster and faster, Rose at his wide.
In his head, it was he and Rose Tyler, in the TARDIS, as it should be. Always. Forever.
****
“I liked Astrid,” Rose said from her customary seat.
“You always like them,” the Doctor replied, focusing his gaze, if not his attention, on the couplings he needed to replace.
“I liked her because she’s smart and curious and brave.”
“They always are, aren’t they.”
“You have to be brave to live, to fight for others,” Rose said. “Still!” Her voice echoed around the console and he knew she changed the subject. “Didn’t have to kiss her.”
“I miss you.” It tore out of him, the words, the feelings behind them. “I miss you so much, Rose. My Rose, my love.”
“I miss you, too, my Doctor. More and more every day.”
“I don’t want you to. I want you to have a fantastic life.” He stopped pretending to fix anything when he couldn’t fix the one thing he needed to live. His broken hearts.
“Well, then, I guess I know what you think of my promises,” Rose said, voice light. He wasn’t fooled. “I promised you forever, you think I forgot you in a couple years?”
“No.” It hurt to admit. “Because I can never forget you.”
“Not even when you were human,” Rose agreed but there was no anger in her voice. Only sympathy. “You wouldn’t have been happy with Joan.”
“I know. She fit all your qualifications of a great companion though—smart, curious, brave.” He sniffed and dismissed Joan Redford. “Still—she wasn’t you.”
“Yeah.” Rose cleared her throat. “Hurry up and finish with your repairs on the time couplings. You promised me pictures of your Fifth Self before the whole Titanic thing and I aim to make you keep that promise.”
“Rose,” he whined but dutifully went back to work. “I wore celery!”
Rose snickered. “I know, and I plan to tease you about that!”
****
“I like Donna even more now,” Rose said after Donna took her cases and boxes into her TARDIS-assigned room. “Keeps you on your toes, she does.”
“She’s not you.”
“No. No, she’s not. But Donna—I think she’ll be good for you.”
“I thought I saw you today. Earlier.” He settled on the seat, next to her (not really) and swore he felt her human warmth beside him. After years of living in his hallucination he was very good at fooling himself. “I thought I saw you. Almost ran down the street.” The Doctor swallowed hard. “I did call your name.”
“I didn’t answer. I’m sorry.” Her fingers, (phantom but not really—just another illusion) brushed against his.
“Doesn’t matter. Wasn’t you.”
“I love you. Nothing can ever change that.”
“It hasn’t,” he agreed and propped his feet on the console. “Never will.”
****
“Don’t cry, my Doctor. Shh, my love.” Rose brushed her (not real) fingers over his face, traced the tears on his cheeks. “I’m sorry, my love. I’m so sorry.”
He lay in his rarely used bed, (curled around Rose, always Rose) stretched out with his hands behind his head. He put on a brave face in front of Martha and Donna, didn’t break down. Martha expected him to, the Doctor knew. She knew him better than he wanted her to, he gave her that.
But Donna—actually the Doctor didn’t know what Donna thought. Or expected him to feel. She hugged him tight kissed his cheek, then left him alone, and that was all that mattered.
“Martha was only half right, Doctor,” Rose whispered to him. “When she said I thought for a moment there you’d finally found something worth living for.”
“Jenny was too much like me,” he said, eyes closing with the comforting presence of Rose.
“You do have something worth living for.”
“I have you.” The Doctor hummed into her touch. “I always have you, my love.”
**** “So that’s your true name, eh?” Rose asked from beside him as he stared at Professor River Song in absolute shock. “I like Doctor better. More of the real you, who you are not who they wanted you to be.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“That she knew your ‘real’ name?” Rose asked from beside him in the faint light in a library of death. “That she thinks you should know her by now, too? That everything about this feels far too coincidental?”
“She’s not you, Rose.”
“Oh, my Doctor. There is that.” Rose shifted from where she stayed beside him, always beside him no matter what. Her lips brushed his though of course he couldn’t see her. “Still!” He heard the smile in her word.
“Does this mean I’ll never see you again?”
“Never say never, ever, my Doctor. The universe is a big, strange place. Didn’t you tell me that on our first trip?”
“I miss you, Rose.”
“And I you, Doctor.” Her hand nearly cupped his cheek, her fingers almost combed through his hair. Nearly. Almost. “But we have people to save and Donna to rescue. We can figure out the mystery of River Song later.”
“There is no mystery. There’s only time.”
Rose (Not-Rose) snorted. “Is it fixed?”
The Doctor almost (nearly) jerked his head in her direction. Long, painful years of stopping himself from doing just that kept him still. Looking in her direction only showed him what he already knew. Rose was gone and he spent the years since her disappearance into another universe talking to himself.
Madman in a box indeed.
“No,” he whispered. “It’s not fixed.”
“Well then. Allons-y, eh?”
“Allons-y, Rose Tyler.”
****
“Get out of my head,” the Doctor growled at the thing invading his mind. He fought, kicked and screamed and punched and hated with every ounce of being left to him. Not for himself, not even for Donna though his best mate deserved better than to be stranded on a toxic planet millions of lightyears from her home.
He fought for Rose. For the Rose that lived with him, in his head, his mind. He always fought for her, she was the best part of him.
“Hold on, my Doctor.” He heard her say and her voice gave him strength. “Hold on for me.”
****
“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” Donna asked gently.
And the Doctor froze. The world froze, time froze, his hears stuttered and froze. The Rose inside his head who stayed with him (forever) even when she was gone laughing, a vibrant, joyous sound. Slowly he turned. Looked down that street. Everything started again, bright and colorful and loud and perfect.
So perfect.
“How long are you going to stay with me?”
“Forever.”
He believed her. She found him again and he believed her.
The Doctor ran, one minute stone still, the next running for his life. To his life. To all that mattered. Toward his forever and his hearts and his love.
To Rose.