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A sharp inhale broke the silence that filtered through the room. Though it wasn't comfortable silence, it was awkward, stiff, cold silence. The kind where at any second, either one of them could blow up at the other. The tension being so thick that they could feel the seconds tick down until it all goes boom.
But strangely, neither of them felt the urge to even yell. Or scream, or even cry. So they sat there, eyes avoiding one another, quietly. They were strangely calm but in both of their reserved minds, storms raged and thundered.
Rose was hurt. Injured so badly that she needed stitches. And the Doctor was the one doing them. He trusted no one else to touch her, to even look at her, in this state. If anything, they needed the time alone, if people were here they both would surely explode. Creating a fight worse than the others they might as well just stop traveling together.
But he didn't want that. Not now, not before, not even in the future, did he want that to happen. And he hoped, silently in his mind, that Rose didn't want that either. So he sent everyone away, rummaged the room for first aid or any alien equivalent to one, and got straight to work.
And even though, he had his unwavering focus on her wound, cleaning it thoroughly, his mind was elsewhere. Clattering the tweezers holding the bloodied cotton ball onto a tray, both of them exhaled a breath. For Rose, the sting of the antiseptic was a bit much to the already pulsing pain of the wound. And for the Doctor, who was glad that that part was over, but now he'd have to get to the next.
But they stayed like that for a few minutes. His eyes never left the span of skin that was right next to the wound, and hers never left the wall. And even though Rose Tyler, who was stubborn just like her mother, wanted to keep her eyes there, they slowly made their way to the Doctor, seeing the deep furrow in his brow that she had a tendency to smooth away, and the guilt that sat heavy in his eyes.
"Doctor..." she muttered, her voice hoarse and tiny, but it made him look up nonetheless. Seeing her tired expression, the feeling in his gut worsened.
"Nothing." he simply said back, voice coming out close to a whisper, lifting himself up from the chair to grab the thread and needle. Clearing his throat, trying to go for a more lively tone even though the mood was elsewhere, "You ever got stitches before?"
Rose's eyes were trained on him, burning holes into the side of his face and he could feel it. Feel the way she's practically calling for him to look at her, but he just couldn't do it. His eyes trained on putting the thread through the eye of the needle, trying not to touch too much of the thread.
And after a few beats, she gave up, looking away and back at the spot on the wall, "Once. I was young, though. Had a nasty scar on my shoulder for the longest time. If you look close enough, you can still see it."
The Doctor took a peek at her shoulder, with her being in a wide-strap tank top. Although it was covered slightly, he could see the curved line of discolored tissue. He blew out a breath and it was back to silence. But, at least, they got a couple of words out without bringing up what happened, and what it was clear that he was feeling. For some odd reason, Rose could read him. It scared him.
He then sat down in the chair he settled right in front of the table she sat on. He looked at the wound that was on her lower abdomen, and he was sure this would also leave a scar. And he hated that he marked her body, even if it wasn't him who did it. But Rose was already marked.
Rose had scars, knee scars she's had since she was a kid, she has a tattoo near her right hip, she has stretch marks that lined her sides and stomach. Every imperfection she had was perfect on her, it's what made her human and all the more remarkable. But he had never meant to add a mark on her body because it changes her. With every adventure, he changes her, the woman he loves, and he hates it. And he feels guilty for it too.
Without wasting another minute, and not wallowing in his thoughts, he steadily lifted his hands to insert the needle into her skin slowly. Her stomach constricted, and the hand that held up her tank top tightened to a fist. A soft curse left underneath her breath as he continued.
"Rose." he started, his voice slightly wobbly and he cursed himself and the whole universe. "I'm sorry."
"I was wondering when we'd get to this part. Doctor, it's fine–"
"You say that it is, but is it really? I'm here, with you, on some alien planet, stitchin' you up and it's my fault. I promise that I'd..."
"Yeah, you did. And you are! Okay? But it was my choice to take that blow. So don't you dare." her voice shook as he tugged on the thread gently to help close the wound, "Instead of me it was going to be you... Better me than you, anyway."
"'Better me than you'? Do you even hear yourself?"
"Yeah. Because I'm horrible with a needle, and you'd just shove me out anyway." The Doctor frowned at that, he'd never shove her out. "But Doctor, can't you just wrap it around your thick skull that I just want you to be safe? For once can I be the one to protect you?"
It was a conflicting thought. Rose protecting him instead, but in return getting hurt like this. He wasn't sure if it was worth it. (He also wasn't sure if he was worth Rose's protection. To be protected by her, for her to risk herself for a lousy man like himself. It was something he'd never thought of.)
"I find that to be difficult, Rose."
"Whatever. Just… It's not your fault. Again, it was my choice anyway."
"I wish you'd chosen something safer, it..." he trailed off. It what? What had happened was already done, there was no way to change it, "I don't like seeing you like this."
His confession was hushed, words only for her to hear. Like if the Doctor had said it any louder, the entire universe would shatter and break. And although her face was scrunched up in pain, the hardness of it ebbed away. A certain softness, fondness, reached her eyes as she decided to look down at him.
The Doctor was one to reserve words, never speak them unless they were to be said. He hardly ever lied, at least to her. Nothing he had ever said to her had been fake or lies. The truth no matter how brutal it is or was. And what he just said was the raw truth. That he hated to see her hurt.
"Me too," she muttered after a few moments.
Silence fell back over them once more, but the heaviness of the room lifted off of them. They were able to breathe more easily, and they would be fine. Because they'd always be fine.
The Doctor looped the last stitch through and tugged the wound close gently. Tying it and snipping off the extra thread. He was more than enough glad that this was over, grabbing a gauze patch and ripping it open. His touch was gentle as he applied it, smoothing it over.
Rose watched his movements, and when he finally took his hands away, she let her tank top fall over to cover herself. She caught the hole that was ringed with the crimson of her blood, and she made a note to never bring this top back to her mum's.
"Thank you," Rose spoke as she finally caught his eye when he looked up at her. Whatever words they had left unsaid were best left unsaid. Because now they were fine. Nothing more and nothing less.
"Anything for you." he was sure that she could never quite grasp how much he meant those words. How true they are in every scenario. It was always going to be her.
Her hands cupped his face, his eyes curious as she did, but his features softened nonetheless at her touch. And even if it hurt to move, she didn't mind, and she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. The Doctors eyes closed, his frown smoothing away and his expression relaxing. Rose always had the power to do that to him.
The kiss lingered for a few moments until she pulled away and rested her forehead against his. Her hands fell from his face, grabbing his hands that settled on either side of her legs and resting them on her lap. Holding them because when they held hands, the warmth and comfort of each other flowed through. And it was so much better than words.
"I mean it, Doctor. Thank you," she mumbled, pulling her head away, and they both opened their eyes, looking at each other, "We're fine, right?"
"Yes, we're fine, Rose." the Doctor reassured as he looked up at her, a small smile appearing on both of their faces, "we're fantastic."
"Good."