Chapter Text
The Doctor had been more than ready to launch them all directly into their next adventure, despite the lingeringly tired looks and Yaz’s sharp glance at Rose’s fresh shirt and the Doctor’s changed outfit. Other than that, and the absence of Ada and Noor, none of the three had any clues as to how long the Doctor and Rose had been away before coming back to pick them up from the now eerily-quiet hangar that the Master and all the Kasaavin had disappeared from.
Rose expected to have to cut the Doctor off, suggest a break, when, to her surprise, Graham did so first. “I think I’m gonna turn in for the night--day--whatever it is,” he silenced any protestations of the timelessness of life aboard this ship. “I could do with a kip.”
Something about the gentleness with which he said it made Rose wonder if he could sense that things were, somehow, off. The Doctor’s hands stilled on a lever and her eyes flicked to where Rose stood, before shooting a smile at Graham that didn’t seem to reach her eyes. “Right, ‘course.” She turned back to the console, bringing up another display. “Go and get your human beauty sleep then.”
Graham gave a little nod of the head to her and ducked into the back hallways. Ryan followed after a moment, and Yaz lingered on behind. “What about you, Doctor? Don’t you need some rest too?”
“Nah,” the Doctor dismissed this with a casual wave, not looking up from whatever she was doing at the console.
“Superior Time Lord biology,” Rose cut the Doctor off, saying exactly what the Doctor had been about to.
The Doctor frowned at Rose briefly. “Yeah, that.” An all-too-brief smile that never reached her eyes thrown at Yaz. “Off you go.”
Despite the Doctor dismissing her and refocusing on her task, Yaz lingered a moment more. Rose could just about see the questions boiling up in her head. She wondered when they’d come bubbling out.
Not tonight, it appeared. With one last questioning glance at Rose, Yaz mounted the steps and disappeared into the depths of the TARDIS as well.
Rose let out a breath of a sigh, leaning against one of the towering crystal pillars, letting the thrum of the ship wash over her for a moment, syncing her breaths to it. Realizing she was being watched, she opened her eyes. The Doctor was looking her over from the console. “What about you?”
Rose thought she might have been trying for nonchalant, but it hadn’t quite come off. She took a breath to answer, paused to think of the words, and found nothing, giving a mirthless huff of laughter instead. The Doctor blinked, turning fully away from the console and leaning back against it. “Rose?”
Life with the Doctor–-any version–-was a whirlwind, would always be, but the last few days had been particularly intense. Universes, planets, foes and friends–-Rose didn’t think any of it would be solved by something as simple as a good night’s sleep.
But it couldn’t hurt to try. Swallowing all of her tangled and complicated emotions down into a lump–-to be dealt with, in time–-Rose straightened, and held out her hand to the Doctor, the simplest version of what she knew, what she had been doing most of her life, in the quiet thrum.
The Doctor started to protest, Rose saw, saw it in the very line of her body. All she wanted to do was run. Run and run and never stop, never rest. “I know you don’t need sleep, but you do need rest.” She cast around for an idea. “You can show me where the library is now.”
After a long moment of deliberation, the Doctor finally gave in, pushing away from the console and taking Rose’s hand again (again and always), fingers entwining as easily as the day they had met. Wordlessly, they walked the quiet corridors of the TARDIS together. Hand in hand. As it was meant to be.
Rose woke, hours later. The simulated fire cracked low, the ambient light dim, and the Doctor asleep on the other end of the sofa, an arm thrown over the back of it. It seemed she had needed some sleep after all, Rose thought muzzily. The dream she had woken from was slipping away already, nothing but the memory of golden light and the pronouncement that she wouldn’t be doing this (whatever ‘this’ had been, in the logic of the dream), alone, not this time.
Then it was gone, leaving only the reality of this little bubble of the universe, still and soft, contentment in a way Rose hadn’t felt in far too long. She shifted just enough to twitch the blanket from the back of the sofa on to the Doctor's still form before letting the quiet lull her back to sleep for at least a little while longer.