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The whir of the TARDIS was usually a pleasant sound, a lulling hum for the Doctor's restless mind.
Today, it was a continuous dripping between the eyes, never ending and slowly driving him to insanity.
He hadn't meant to say it. Not really. It tore from his throat like a parasite through flesh.
"Sam.." he murmured, tilting his head down to try and catch her gaze. She was resting against the console, her eyes focusing on one of the many luminescent buttons in the TARDIS. How many were there, she wondered. How many parts to the machine? How many days until he ended the viscous cycle of comparison?
"Sammy," he tried again, more insistent. Silence.
"Samantha," he demanded, less gentle, more bark.
Her eyelashes fluttered as her gaze raised to meet his. His softened. He crouched down to her level.
"I didn't mean it. You know I didn't. It's-- it's, y'know.. it just sometimes slips out."
He gave an uncomfortable chuckle, his expressions more animated than usual. He spoke with his hands, the Doctor. There were always too many words in his head for just his lips to carry out.
"You said it, though," she mumbled.
"I know, Sam, I know. It was stupid," he spat, as though reprimanding his own recklessness. Deep down, the pulsing ache told him he was a liar. A filthy, tainted liar.
"But it was true, wasn't it?.."
He fell silent.
There was something different in the way she asked. The hope had drained out. She already knew the truth.
The Doctor stood up and spun on his heel, running a hand through his unkempt, brown hair.
"Sam, you-.. You have to understand, Rose was.."
How was he meant to convey what Rose was to him? How could he describe his strongest reason for having faith in himself? How could he explain that when he heard the word "happiness," Rose Tyler is who came to mind. Losing her left a crater in both his hearts. A Rose-shaped crater that Sam had the misfortune of trying to fill.
He continued, "Rose and I were very close. When I lost her, I was.. I was devastated, Sam. You can't blame me for missing her."
She tasted the anger in his words. It only fuelled her own.
"I'm not Rose, Doctor. I'm not. I'll never be."
She stood up, her voice raising in volume.
"No matter how much you try to cut and carve me into being her, I'm not."
"No, you don't. That's the problem. You think if you call me 'Rose' enough times, that you'll open your eyes one morning and it'll be her, not me. You'd let a Dalek exterminate me if it meant getting her back."
"Don't say that."
"You would! You'd kill me if you knew she'd take my place once I died!"
A killer. He might as well have been. "Sam, stop."
"I'm sick of this. I don't want your endless stars and galaxies if I have to wake up every morning, knowing you'd leave me to rot the second you had the opportunity to see her again!" she barked, unaware that she had backed herself into a corner. A frightened, wild animal.
The Doctor's chest rose and fell quietly. His eyebrows had darkened his eyes.
"How would you feel?.. huh?.. You have no idea do you? Blimey.."
He spat a dry chuckle, beginning to pace.
"I've lived over, what, 900 years? I've watched civilizations crumble. Nations succumb to higher powers, crushed by the very hand that fed them. My own planet with all of its habitants became ashes because I was too much of a coward to do anything but run."
His feet carried him around the TARDIS floor. If he stopped pacing, he'd fall.
He went on, "I've taken lives. Manipulated people into taking their own. I'm not a good person, Sam. I'm not a good anything. So, forgive me for missing the one person that made me feel like I wasn't a monster."
"I never thought you were a monster."
"No?" He gestured at her cornered, frightened self. "Look at you. You're cowering."
Sam glanced down at herself and straightened up, her jaw tight.
The Doctor sighed through his nose and approached the console, placing both hands on it and leaning on his arms, head hung low.
"You're not her, Sam. I know you're not. I know you never will be."
He wanted to say more. To convey his grief to her, but it only hurt the more it surfaced.
His voice grew softer. "If you want to go home, I can take you home." His head raised just slightly, enough to meet her eyes from beneath the hair falling over his face. "But.. I'd like for you to stay, if you will?.. I promise to do better. Try harder. Hell, I'll stamp it on both my hands and place sticky notes all over this old girl," he offered, patting the console. An early attempt at a joke.
"No need.." mumbled Sam, blinking back moisture. "I'd like to head home for a bit.. Just to-.. think."
A bitter taste built its way up into the Doctor's throat. "Yep. Yeah, okay, sure. Not-.. not a problem. Whatever you like." He drew a breath through his slim nose and straightened up, suddenly animated and energetic, pulling levers and pressing buttons. "Next stop: home of Samantha Armaou! All passengers, buckle your seatbelts, or tentacles! Whatever you've got!"
He pulled the demat-lever down in one heavy motion and turned his head in her direction, flashing her a wild grin. "Allons-y!"
Sam gave a small, weary smile, pushing off the railing and stalking over to his side.
"..I'm sorry about Rose.." she murmured, placing a gentle hand on his back. He flinched at the contact, averting his gaze before he forced himself to relax.
"Not your issue, love. I should do better," he admit. It was always difficult for him to admit fault, but for Sam, he'd try.