A (wip) fic written for the DW Secret Santa!
Notes: This is the first chapter of hopefully four, but it took me a lot longer to write than I had anticipated. I'm sorry I'm so out of practice, rosetylerrun! I hope you like this installment, and the others to come!
He felt it before he heard it. It'd be hard to hear, with all the Christmas music piping out of the nearby window. It began as a faint shiver, goose pimples rising on his flesh, and then as a rising sense of wrongness, a sense of something tearing. As though he could feel someone ripping paper from several rooms over. He began running before he could process it consciously. He hadn’t felt it since…
He rounded the corner in time to see a figure collapse to the ground. Picking up his pace, he ran over to her, his shoes (black and clunky, why did he ever give up the trainers?) slipping on patches of ice. He was bent over her, already grabbing hold of her elbow before she had properly come to. Her head tilted up, her large mouth open slightly to let out a puff of surprised air, and her eyes locked on to his.
“Oh, I - I’m sorry. So clumsy,” she began getting herself to her feet, and he launched back into helping her a little belatedly. “Just a bit of a tumble, all this, er,” she looked around herself, and he could see her carefully regulating her expression, carefully hiding the analysis. “Snow and ice.” Rose Tyler finished a little lamely, and then looked back at him. “Thanks, mate. No need to worry about me.” And then she pointedly glanced down at her own elbow.
He still had a hand on it.
“Oh! Oh, of course, no trouble, no trouble at all! Just saw you fall, you know, thought I’d be a good samaritan, help you to your feet.” He released her and pinwheeled backwards, but wasn’t able to make himself go very far. He was drinking in her presence as though she were rain in the desert, and it was clear she was already becoming uncomfortable with the attention.
She had never really understood how beautiful she was.
“Right,” the word came out a bit slower than was typical, somewhere between reassuring and skeptical. “Well, since I have you here, might as well ask: Seen anything weird happen lately?”
He barked out a laugh. Right to the point, was Rose. “Searching for weird things?” He asked her, eyes crinkling. She shrugged in response.
“Really more looking for someone who is attracted to weird things,” she said, trying to sound casual. He smiled.
“Well, I did hear there was some sort of crash downtown." Which was half true. He'd actually just dropped off Amelia and Rory in their flat and was about to leave when the TARDIS sensors had warned him of a Solyule ship falling towards the city. "Was just going there myself, actually,” he said, trying to sound casual. Hoping she’d notice. Hoping she’d ask. Maybe looking at his own fingernails had been too casual, though, because when she responded her voice was coming from farther away.
“Thanks!” She called back at him, already several meters down the fairy-light strewn street. His eyes widened in alarm, and he motored after her. There was no way he’d lose her again. At least not yet. Already his brain was screaming at him that he should just let her go, leave it be, not get involved. Because she had to keep going. She hadn’t found him yet. For her, the stars were still going out. For her, they were still separated.
They were separate again for him.
How would he explain that to her?
It was enough to make him slow down his pace after her. But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. Just watching her moving in front of him, it was far too much like ancient history irresistibly popping back into his reach. He had never been able to not chase after important moments in time. He put on a burst of speed and jogged up beside her. "Well, I was going there myself, as I said. Mind a bit of company?" He grinned her his new toothy grin, and she looked at him. Was he imagining her mouth tugging up at the corner?
"Well, all right, but don't start thinking you can follow me everywhere." He nodded, cheerful, and allowed himself glances at her every few seconds. Her hair was a bit longer, she wore a blue leather coat and denim, and she really couldn't be very warm in that outfit in this weather, but she was acting like it didn't affect her. Much like he was currently acting, except of course it didn't affect him.
"So, tell me about this someone you're looking for," he heard himself say. "Maybe I could help."
"I really doubt it," she said, her tone tired. They walked forward in silence for a few steps, before Rose carried on. "He's, well, he's tall. Skinny. Usually wears a suit, his favourite's brown pinstripes. Talks too much." She hadn't looked up at him since he'd joined her walking, but now she did. "Sounds like it might be anyone, really, hmm?"
He had to admit it kind of did. But before the Doctor could say anything, Rose spoke up again. "'Cept he's not just anyone. He's... he's just very important, yunno?" He heard her take a deep breath, trying to regulate herself again. Oh, Rose... "I'll find him, eventually. It's just hard to find someone in all of--" She pulled up hard, and the space between words stretched a bit too long before she lied. "Cardiff."
"I don't doubt it," the Doctor chirruped, trying to smooth away her worry and stress. "But you will find him. I'm sure of it." He tried to weigh his words, but Rose didn't react. She didn't even say "are you sure?" like he had hoped she would. He was being torn between ushering her quickly on her way, or tearing away his invisibility cloak and keeping her with him for at least a little while... After all, she had searched for him for years. Who knew what she'd got up to in all that time? He wished desperately that there had been time to ask. But now, well. He could find out, couldn't he? First hand. He came to a resolution, and turned to her, his mouth already opening to speak her name. But she was running again, away from him. Again.
He looked beyond her and saw the reason why. There was a great crowd of people at the end of the street, looking at something on fire. He picked up his own feet then, catching her up with some effort. She could leg it faster than he was properly used to, but it was refreshing. His legs were still long, and they wanted to stretch. He pulled up beside her in time to hear her questioning the people nearby.
"Thing just plopped out of the sky," a man was telling her. "All a-bleeding-blaze. Not exactly the kind of Christmas fire one expects." He was glaring over Rose's shoulder at the hunk of burning metal as though it was the Grinch and he was the Mayor of Whoville.
"Too right! Let's just see what this is all about then!" The Doctor proclaimed before wandering over towards the wreck. Without so much as a thought, he whipped out his sonic and scanned the craft. "Hmm. Nobody home. Strange." He turned back to Rose with a thoughtful look on his face. "I wonder if they were able to jettison out, or if it's been... Oh. Oh, right. Um. Oops." He had forgotten the all important talk-to-her-first maneuver. At least he'd planned it? Rose's face was undergoing an transformation that defied description. She had gone white as a sheet, but even as he looked at her she was going red, the shock in her face draining into an expression that reminded him (terrifyingly) of Jackie.
He turned his body fully around to face her, straightening his spine (and, unconsciously, his bow tie). Better to face the thing head on, now that the cat was out of the bag. He waited for the first rage to fall on him. And waited.
Instead, Rose was looking at him in a way she had never looked at him before. It took him a moment to register exactly what it was that was written on her face. It was, in a word, betrayal. She felt betrayed. Didn't trust him any more, likely. Good, he thought bitterly. The more people who come to their senses on that front, the better. And then he gave himself a mental shake. This was Rose he was talking about here. The thought of anyone hurting her, least of all him, made his insides roil. Without making any moves towards her, the Doctor tried to make his features as kind and understanding as he could manage.
"Keep looking, Rose. Please. Don't stop here."
The words hung in the ash-ridden air for a few, brief moments. Then, he was hit in the chest with what felt like the full weight of Rose Tyler, and he wasn't entirely sure if she was trying to hit him or hug him. By the sounds of things, she wasn't sure either.
"... and you idiot! Leading me on like that, how could you, I can't believe it's you, God, I've looked so long, I don't - you've regenerated, how long-? But D-Doctor!" The end came out in a stutter that was accompanied by an intake of breath, and was she trying not to cry? The Doctor brought his hands up to her elbows, trying to steady her just with that motion.
"Rose. The craft." He looked down at her until she was able to look back at him. Abruptly he let her go, turned back to the wreck, and went back to scanning it. Better this, better work, than trying to deal with the entirety of their emotions all at once. A little voice in the back of his head berated him for running away, but then running was what he did best, so he moved his legs to take himself closer to the hunk of metal. The fire was dying down even as they stood there. Now, he could hear somewhere behind him people in the crowd reassuring themselves that Rose was okay, that she hadn't been attacked by some looney in a tweed jacket, and that yes, of course they should contact the authorities, why hadn't they thought of that. Leave it to Rose to distract people from her own pain. He wondered, silent, sarcastic and bitter, where she had learned that little ploy.
