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He was going to kill her.
Rose liked to think, for the most part, that she was a good companion. The Doctor certainly seemed happier in her company. Gone was the half-dead look that had plagued his eyes on their first trip to the stars, now he laughed a little more freely, practically galloped around the galaxy, and even told (occasionally funny) jokes. Something could be said about her influence, perhaps, and how it may had started to patch those planet-burning scars.
Not just that, but she was competent. Or at least, she thought she was competent. She’d saved the day a good number of times now and had proven herself as much more than just the Doctor’s second. Travelling with the Doctor wasn’t a job, far from it in fact, but if it was Rose would consider herself a gold star employee.
That was until today. Today, the Doctor may actually kill her.
Rose half-limped, half-wobbled, half-staggered through the rickety streets of some alien city. It looked remarkably like London: wide cobblestone paths, tall wooden buildings, and smog illuminated by cat-eye lampposts. But then she’d pass aliens with skin so translucent it could be paper, and the reminder that she wasn’t home was as sharp as the cuts across her ribcage.
It wasn't really her fault, Rose considered. An alien dictator, with some name Rose didn’t dare pronounce, had been torturing his subjects in this England-adjacent town with an oily looking machine. Rose and the Doctor had stepped in, and before the Blonde knew it, she was running with a pack of rebels and storming a mountain of a castle. Her and the Doctor had split up, leaving Rose the de-facto leader of a group of, frankly, scared looking kids. And Rose had done what the Doctor had asked- she’d gotten inside of the throne room, taken down king I-hate-reasonable-name’s machine, and shrieked as the room caved in. Naturally she was fine, pulled herself out easily enough, but apparently the aliens papery skin made them view a mild cave-in as a death sentence. The gits had even taken the cart, thus her dragging herself half the way through the town. Not quite the heroic return she’d imagined.
Rose knew she was jeopardy friendly. The Doctor reminded her of it every five minutes. But this felt like another level- Rose had been in many life and death situations, but never one where she’d bled before. She’d only spared a glance for her side, a mucky blur of cuts and bruises, and fought down the bile that tampered her throat.
He was absolutely going to kill her.
Rose heard the TARDIS and almost sobbed- forget how angry he’d be, at least he was alive, because that sound meant her Doctor was safe. That was always a given, Rose reminded herself, but to see it true almost made her buggered up side feel completely healed.
Around a corner and down a lane, Rose finally spotted him. He stood next to the TARDIS, the old girl’s doors wide open as if he’d only just barreled out. A thin layer of dust was collected over his back and around his ears, but he otherwise looked normal (Rose thought with an inch of jealousy). A group of aliens gathered warily around him like clowns about to poke a bear. Their half-translucent skin and kiddish eyes betrayed them as Rose’s rebels.
“We are immensely sorry,” Nimba, a very outspoken spoken woman sporting an oddly timid voice, asserted. “But there is no way she could have survived that.”
“Are you really that dense?” The Doctor roared. With his back turned and hackles raised, Rose could almost mistake him for a different man. “Are your brains as thin as your stupid skin? You idiots! You dense, stupid idiots!”
An alien to his right cleared his throat. “We are truly sorry-”
“Shut up!” The Doctor rounded on him. “I said I’d protect her, and I’m going to. Just stay the hell out of my way.”
Nimba perked up again. “Hang on, you said you’d help us get those buildings back up. You promised!”
“And you promised you wouldn’t leave her behind, so I guess were all liars here,” The Doctor snapped, before storming towards the TARDIS. “Now if you don’t mind me I’ve going back for her- because Rose is worth an entire planets worth of buildings. No, galaxies!”
“Bit rich, that,” Rose finally said. She instantly regretted it when many pairs of eyes turned to her, regarding her appearance like one might a ghost. Very sensitive, Rose told herself. Very thoughtful. A snide comment to announce the fact she wasn’t dead. And the Doctor thought she was the emotionally in-tune one.
But all of those feelings melted the second her eyes locked onto the Doctors. Icy blue pooled into hers, but underneath it all she could see was the fierce terror his voice had echoed. It melted down to his gaped jaw and shaking fists. Trembling- the Doctor was trembling. It made Rose shivered too, as if their bodies were joined by some psychic link.
Rose opened her mouth again, probably to run it even further, when the sound of heavy boots broke her off. Four strides was all it took for a pair of arms to completely engulf her, and her face to be squished into a firm leather jacket. The Doctor’s face buried somewhere in the junction of her neck, and his hands ran up and down her spine, but all Rose could register was muffled words in her ear. Muffled? Muffled didn’t feel right. Nor did the blushed feeling that started in her cheeks and went all the way to her forehead- thank God he couldn’t see her face.
“Your gonna have to slow down,” Rose mumbled. “Cause I think there’s something stuck in my ear, and m’ not hearing you that well.”
The Doctor moved his head so that his lips were pressed directly to the shell of her ear, and Rose almost lost her legs under a furious blush. “Did they do this. The aliens, did they hurt you?”
“No! No, they didn’t. S’not their fault.”
“Are you hurt?”
Rose felt every cut in her side ripple, but it was nothing in comparison to how lovely the Doctor’s arms felt. “Nah, not made of paper, me. Got a lot more fight left in me yet.”
The Doctor laughed, dropping his face back down. He smelt of space, and spice, and something dusty but oh so painfully him. She could hear the other aliens gossiping around her, but couldn’t really bring herself to care- she was honestly still a little miffed with the whole ‘leaving her under a collapsed throne room’ thing. The Doctor pulled his head back, and gone was the lion she’d seen a few moments ago.
“Hi,” Rose said softly. “You alright?”
The Doctor scoffed. “Obviously. I’ll have you know I’m not made of paper either.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“Oi!” The Doctor mockingly scowled, but his lips were twitching.
The Doctor paused, clearly deliberating, then tilted his head forwards until their foreheads smushed. Rose blinked a few times as his eyes settled shut, and his hands rested firmly on her hips. From here she could see the elegant cuts and divides that made up his face, and feel his breath fan all the way down to her lips. She was caught between feeling horribly flustered, and beyond comforted at the sight of him breathing.
The Doctor breathed out, and shuffled a hand a little higher. Too high. Right over her cut, in fact, and Rose let out a sharp wince. It was like being pinched by Edward Scissorhands, and a tiny bit of white clouded her vision. The Doctor pulled back instantly, and Rose felt like whining all over again.
“You are hurt!” The Doctor produced his sonic with a flourish. “Where? Rose-”
“Side,” Rose replied stiffly. “Got a little cut. M’ alright though.”
The Doctor glanced at his screwdriver and scowled. Rose was a little convinced she was concussed, and the Doctors tutting state only acted to confirm it.
The timelord twisted his head around to the aliens. “We’re going. Bye now!”
Nimba arced up. “But-”
The Doctor ignored her as he propped an arm around Rose’s uninjured side, effectively holding her up. “But yourself. Now get to work, you have buildings to raise.”
Rose felt herself being half-led, half dragged towards the TARDIS, but the cool lights were welcome in her eyes. It felt like home, Rose realized, it felt more like home than London had. The old ship seemed to wave as they walked in.
The Doctor wasted no time to direct her to the medical bay. She hated the room- it was a little like a hospital row, with four clinically white beds and scanners in every direction. A metal table stood at the end, with wires and strange medical equipment laying on benches haphazardly around it, and a stool propped up underneath. The harsh white lighting only made the room look more unfriendly, although it certainly seemed to soften as the pair entered. Rose mentally thanked the TARDIS.
The Doctor beelined for the metal table and carefully nudged her forwards. Rose complied, but the second after she’d boosted herself up, a rich stabbing pain took over her side. Tears sprung to her eyes as she gripped the edge of the metal slab.
“Shit!” Rose snapped.
“Language. Right, chin up.” Rose was about to snap that he better not tell her to smile too, when the Doctor somberly held out a pad-like thing with little buttons around it’s corner. “Just need to check what’s going on in that head of yours.”
“Kay,” Rose leaned forward, eager to be near his warmth again. It was certainly much better than the feeling of stones bearing down on her.
“Nothing broken,” The Doctor said quickly, more to himself than anything else. “Bloods are fine. Only a mild concussion.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Good? Well your ribs look like they’ve been put through a shredder, so yes Rose it’s just fantastic,” The Doctor pulled out his sonic. “Gonna have to cut up your shirt a little. S’ that okay?”
“Do whatever you need to. I trust you,” Rose replied earnestly.
The Doctor’s eyes softened as he dropped, gently running his sonic up and down her shirt, daresay a little manically. Rose supposed she should be mortified as her half-opened tank top flopped across her front, but the stabbing pain in her side and fuzzy ears seemed more pressing.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” The Doctor traced a finger outside of her wounded area. “Rose, why’d you let me waste time out there!”
“I don’t know,” Rose said, biting her lip. “I don’t know! You just seemed like you needed a hug.”
“For the record,” The Doctor marched over to a nearby work bench and grabbed a variety of pills and potions. “I’d rather hug you when your conscious and not bleeding out from your side. Just so your aware.”
Rose rotated her ankles, “Sorry.”
The Doctor sighed, and handed her several pills. “For the pain. And to starve of infection.”
Rose wordlessly swallowed them, wincing at a slightly bitter taste in her mouth. The Doctor balanced on a red stool as he raised a damp sponge, and gently touched it to her side.
This time the pain went all the way down her heels. “Doctor!”
“Sorry, here,” The Doctor grabbed her hand, keeping his head ducked. “Squeeze when it gets sore. Painkillers should kick in soon, promise.”
Rose forced herself to take a few shuddering breaths. In and out and in. Jackie had told her once to imagine she was keeping a balloon up with her deep breaths, and Rose squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to visualize. She fell into a careful rhythm, until finally the pain seemed to numb, and dropped to only a tiny dull near her hips. Rose tilted her head from side-to-side, and almost smiled as she realized the muffled feeling was fading.
“Strong pills,” Rose mused.
“Anything would feel strong compared to your piddly human aspirin,” The Doctor squeezed her hand a final time, before dropping it in favor of searching for something under the bench.
“Says the alien allergic to aspirin,” Rose said as he slowly massaged her side. “What are you doing now?”
The Doctor pulled out a needle and thread, carefully sizing up one of the bigger cuts. “Thought you said you trusted me?”
“Are you actually a Doctor?” Rose asked, before biting her lip shut as she saw the needle point towards her skin. She’d saved the world today, for Pete’s Sake! One pathetic little needle shouldn’t cause her to feel physically ill.
“Course I am!” The Doctor replied with a forced cheerfulness. “Been around for nine-hundred years, me. Got all sorts of degrees.”
“Really? You never said.”
“It wasn’t something I was planning on you having to know,” The Doctor said vaguely, his shoulders tightening. For all of a second, Rose swore she saw that dusty panic he’d found when roaring at the aliens outside.
Rose swallowed. “Doctor-”
“Still, won’t take a mo.”
“Mmm,” Rose replied, making a point to stare at the wall. “Is this a good time to mention I don’t like needles?”
A painful expression raced across the Doctor’s face. “Rose, this is the only way-”
“I know. Trust you, remember?”
“Right. Grab my hand,” The Doctor said, suddenly serious. “And keep talking. This is the worst part, but then I promise it’ll be all done and you’ll be back to yourself again. Swear it.”
“Okay,” Rose took a steadying breath.
“Talk to me.”
Rose’s mind raced through conversation points like a mad shopper trying to find the right cloths size. “We should go back and help with the construction.”
“Rose, they left you to die.”
“They didn’t know any better,” Rose said dismissively. Her side was completely numb now- a good sign, right? She could feel the skin being tugged a little, and the occasional prickle, but otherwise she’d be none the wiser to the Doctor’s activities. “And it’s not their fault the roof came down.”
The Doctor sighed. “You and your heart.”
“Oh come on, you know you love it.”
“Cheeky,” The Doctor squeezed her hand tightly. “Almost done.”
The needle pricked the slight edge of her skin. Rose squeezed back reactively- it was less painful than surprising. “Felt that one a little.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” The Doctor’s voice never wavered, but Rose could hear his frown. “I need you to focus on your breathing for me. Can you do that?”
“Yep.” Rose felt the Doctor start to squeeze her hand again, and Rose tried to breath alongside it. She was aware that her heart was beating at an odd staccato, and prayed her Doctor couldn’t feel it.
A thought struck her. “You didn’t get hurt, right?”
“Already told you I didn’t.”
“So everything went okay with King-I-hate-traditional-names?”
“Fine, he surrendered,” The Doctor paused and wiped something away from her cut. “He was a right old nob, but his people were so eager to turn on him we barely had any resistance. Day was saved, songs were written, normal Tuesday- right?”
“Yeah,” Rose replied, horrifyingly aware that she was out of questions, nay, anything outside of a needle to talk about.
“Your doing great,” The Doctor said when the silence started to drag. “Did everything go okay with the machine? Nimba said you shut it down. You’ve got quite the group of pretty boys fanning all over you out there.”
If she was a little less knowledgeable about the Timelord, Rose swore she’d imagine his tense voice as jealous. Thankfully she knew better. “Yeah it was fine. Outside of the roof, y’know?”
“Well we’re not bringing any of them back onto the ship.”
“Course not,” Rose said lamely, her tongue refusing to form any more banter.
“Yep,” The Doctor said. “Almost there now… done.”
Rose spared a look for her ribs. The stitches were neat and finally pulled, “Huh. Maybe you are a doctor.”
“You doubted that?”
“What with your bedside manner, you can hardly blame me,” Rose stuck her tongue out.
The Doctor huffed something about ungrateful blondes and he carefully applied a bandage to her stitches, but there was a clouded look in his eyes. “Any more pain?”
“Nah, tough as nails me. Gonna take a lot more than a cave in to keep a Tyler down,” Rose said with a forced confidence. She didn’t like that look, not one bit. Her Doctor rarely seemed nervous, nor pained. It made her shoulders tense.
The Doctor only hummed his agreement as he got to his feet, running a hand over the bandages once more. Rose was suddenly struck by her half opened shirt, and quickly pulled the front a little more across. If he noticed, The Doctor certainly didn’t seem to care.
“I’m kinda impressed,” Rose said as the Doctor put back his various medical equipment. Rose rearranged herself so she could lean back against the wall, with her feet dangling off the bench. “It’s been a hot minute and you haven’t given me the jeopardy friendly lecture yet.”
“Do you really think so little of my bedside manner?” The Doctor fished out a clean men’s shirt, and tossed it to her. Rose gladly pulled it over her now spoilt tank top.
“I did save the world,” Rose said, although it sounded a little meek. “And I didn’t know the roof was going to cave in. But, I don’t know, I’m aware that it was reckless, I guess. M’ sorry.”
The Doctor’s back was to her, but Rose could already see his shoulders slump. “Rose, I’m not going to give you a lecture. Wasn’t your fault, and besides, I’d be a hypocrite- S’ not like I don’t take horrible risks every day.”
Rose swallowed. “But-”
“I thought you were dying,” Came the Timelords voice, broken and a little haggard. Finally he faced her, and Rose saw that same fear from only minutes ago, yet somehow amplified. “I thought I killed you. I thought- I’m so sorry, Rose.”
Rose watched as he tentatively walked back, so that he was properly facing her. He stopped just in front of her knees, yet still refused to meet her eyes. For all of a second, he ceased to be a magnificent timelord, and suddenly looked horribly small- like a lost child at a fair.
“It isn’t your fault,” Rose attempted. “You said it yourself, it was an accident.”
“I brought you here,” The Doctor replied, and it sounded like a confession. “I’m supposed to protect you, and I can even do that on what’s supposed to be a safe planet. Even made you hurt in here.”
“Hey,” Instinct took over, and Rose grabbed his shoulder, shocked by how tense the muscle felt. “Hey- you patched me up! It’s not your fault I don’t like needles. And, for the record, I chose to come here. You didn’t kidnap me or anything. I want this- even if it means I get a few new scars now and again. It’s fine!”
The Doctor stared at her. "I can't loose you."
"You won't," Rose said with a brazen confidence. It was an empty promise- their lives were dangerous, after all. But, well, she wouldn't change it for anything. "Hate to say it, but I think your stuck with me."
The Doctor seemed hellbent on not meeting her gaze as he carefully tilted his head forward. Rose blinked, and suddenly their foreheads were pushed together again, and his hands were back on her hips. But it no longer felt awkward- shockingly, it was as natural as breathing.
“Rose-”
“Stop,” The woman said firmly. “It’s my life, and I’m accountable for it. And you know what? I wouldn’t change it for the world.”
“Yeah?” The Doctor took a long breath out, finally loosing some of that stress.
“Yep,” Rose replied.
They stayed like that for a while, with her side stitched up and his jacket still dusty. Breath-for-breath, it felt warm in a way Rose hadn’t experienced since she was almost buried alive. But even that felt like a long distant memory now- odd, how normal this routine of near death experiences had gotten.
The Doctor finally cleared his throat. “Do you know this is how rabbit apologize?”
Rose blinked, a little startled. “Is this your way of saying you wanna do Easter next?”
The Doctor snorted. “Nah. Just, I don’t know, s’ a nice idea, right? Being so close, makes you realise the other person means it.”
“Suppose it is,” Rose replied quietly, because speaking normally felt taboo here. “You know you don’t have to be sorry, right?”
“I know,” The Doctor replied, but he didn’t move his forehead. “Rose, if you ever want to go home-”
“Doctor,” Rose found herself cupping his cheek, and almost froze. But he didn’t flinch, so she assumed it was fine. “I’m fine. Your fine. Can we just be happy with that? Just- just be with me here for a bit, please?"
“Okay,” The Doctor replied softly, and finally his lips twitched up.
A full heartbeat passed before Rose felt the need to break the tension. “How’d you know about how Rabbits apologize? Is that another thing you got a degree in?”
“Why yes, I am fairly good at Rabbitology.”
“I was thinking more of a Bachelor in Bunnies.”
“That’s better. I like that more.”
“M just too good. Sorry,” Rose beamed.
The Doctor held her gaze for all of a second, before shifting up and pressing a kiss to her forehead- a swift acknowledgement that they’d at least both survived. His lips burned against her skin, and for all of a moment, Rose felt warmth the entire way down her body, like it was liquid honey.
Then he was pulling back, “I think that’s enough apologizing for today. C’mon, lets get you to your room before those pain killers kick in.”
Her eyelids were a little droopy, Rose realized. With a smile, she carefully accepted the Doctors arm as he escorted her out. “Thanks for patching me up.”
“Anytime, but let’s not make it a regular thing, no?” The Doctor looked at her with a mix of hope, and something a little too warm, a little too intimate. It made her toes curl and her heartbeat wildly.
“But if it is, we deal with it together,” Rose squeezed him arm with a gentle smile. "At least I’ve got a good Doctor, right?”
“Yeah,” He replied, a little proudly. Slowly, as if his limbs were under water, the Doctor raised her hand and pressed the smallest kiss to the back of it. “You do.”
She was right, Rose realized as his eyes glinted, he and his smiles were going to kill her. But naturally, she wouldn’t change it for the world.