Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rose Tyler thought herself more unflappable than most. You had to be if you were gonna keep up, and the days where she wasn't running for her life were becoming slightly more and more boring than the ones where she was. She felt this thought should be more distressing to her than it was.

It was like playing a game, one where she always had the upper hand at the end of the day. Get out there, see what the universe offers, break out of a few prisons, topple a few governments, and get accidentally married all before exhaustion caught up with her enough to warrant a night of rest. Most of the games she played were fun. Simple.

The game she played with him was like being dropped in a minefield blindfolded trying to get to the other side with zero promises that the other side even existed but fuck if sometimes he didn't make you think it did. Even then, the game could be fun. Held hands before dropped fingers, gripping embraces before cold stares. A forever together promised in single moments, only for every other second to provide evidence of the contrary. But still. It was fun. It was werewolves and the 50's and running and running and chasing and learning how to play the game without a rulebook to follow.

But games were only fun as long as you could see the point. As long as the point mattered.

Apparently, facing the devil himself caused one to reprioritize. Pick up long-forgotten hobbies, and slow down a little to recoup and reassess. This explained why Rose was currently curled up on the corner of the couch in the media room, the lights around her dimmed just enough to be relaxing while still allowing her to see her sketchbook. It could also be used to explain why she was using The Doctor's coat as a blanket if either of them cared to question it. The man himself was stretched against the rest of the cushions, resting his chin against a closed fist. He was dressed down more than usual, the sleeves of his button-up rolled halfway up the length of his arms, his tie abandoned at some point during the night, his hair more of a birds nest than anything resembling stylish. Rose would have no complaints, none whatsoever, if his constant fidgeting didn't inhibit her ability to capture this look for good.

"Oh stop, this isn't that painful."

"For you."

"You're the one who wanted to stay in!"

"Stay in, not still." The Doctor pouted as he settled further into the couch, his leg shifting back and forth like it needed to move to be comfortable. He huffed a sigh and faced forward.

"Hush m' focusing, this is delicate work. Have to get all your freckles."

"We'll be here for hours!" His pose was once again ruined by the franticness in which he threw his arms in the air, hitting the book out of Rose's hands. She caught a hold of it before it crashed to the ground.

"Hey! A well-informed source once told me passing time doesn't matter when we're just floating around in the Vortex."

"If you see them again you should punch them in the face."

"Well, I would but it'd kinda ruin my drawing. Although, I wouldn't mind capturing a more rugged look."

"Don't think a black eye or bloody lip would go well with the freckles."

"Says you. I used to go nuts for guys like that."

"Concussed? Seems a bit like taking advantag-"

"Rebelleous you jerk." Rose hit him on the nose with her pencil and received a small over exaggerated yelp before she sat back against the couch leg. "Y'know, the kinda guy who wasn't afraid to get a little scuffed up if it meant stickin' up for something. There was this guy back at the Estate, must've been two grades above me. I remember him gettin' suspended after he threw these three jerks into a locker door but not before he got his jaw busted. I saw him do it, he was all the rage to me for like, a whole year after that."

"And where did our favorite delinquent end up?"

"Still dating the guy he was with all those years ago! Turns out he beat those guys up cause they were giving his boyfriend shit. He wasn't out back then so I didn't know. It's sweet."

"And your childhood hopes and dreams?"

"Only slightly crushed. But see, it's the motivation that's hot." He raises an eyebrow with a questioning look sent over the top of her sketchbook. "Okay, and the scars too."

"Not my fault mine don't stick around for long- wait, hey, this one's still here!" The Doctor shoved his fist in Rose's face, a small white line stretching across his knuckle. "See, see? Oh yeah, don't tell me I can't be a badass."

"Oh please I was there remember? Brain like a super computer but he can't win a fight against a potato peeler."

"It slipped!"

"And you pouted like a child while you sucked on your finger."

"It was very traumatic! Could've lost my hand again."

"Baby. Now Stop. Moving." She hit his hand with her pencil a few times before he shook it out with a wince and sat it back to its original position.

"Although," he stretched out the last syllable as he struggled not to move his hands. "If you think about it, I'm not exactly not a rebel."

"Or humble."

"I'm serious! If my people were still around they'd have a few choice words about the stuff I get up to. Didn't exactly fit into their way of life." Rose paused while her pencil pressed into the page, a dot of graphite left behind darker than the rest of her sketch. She bit her lip as she lost herself in thought. It wasn't long before he noticed. "What?"

"S'nothin. You just… I don't think you've ever brought up your people in just…casual conversation I guess."

"Suppose not. Usually don't have a reason to."

"You could though…I mean if you wanted to…I mean… never mind." It was easy to forget the sheer longevity of The Doctor's life sometimes, especially with this new face. Sometimes, however, if she looked close enough or caught him off-guard, his eyes gave away his true age. Even in the short few years she'd known him his eyes had changed. Their previous shade was something akin to cold steel or pure ice, but they were also his softest features. There was this…sense of loss she felt if she ever looked long enough, stared deep enough. Loss of a home, yes, but a loss of self too. He was lost, and she liked to think as time went on she found more of himself in every stare.

On the surface, these new eyes were every bit younger than the last, but it wasn't hard to see past that if you knew just where or even how to look into them. Playful, exceedingly playful, and shockingly bright. So easy to lose yourself in, but that was the trick really. Become distracted enough to forget he had seen more than just the here and now, had lived lifetimes, fought wars, and is still paying the price. Bright as can be but equally harsh in measure, less lost but more…pained, even as he tried to hide it. Rose finds that she misses those previous pair sometimes, if only because she could read him leagues better than she could now. No, these eyes were not any bit as young as they appeared to be.

And after everything that had happened in just the last twenty-four hours, she was desperate to know where they stood with each other. Because something had changed, even if he'll never outwardly admit it. Because those eyes have never looked at her like they do now. Like he couldn't possibly entertain looking at anything else, and yet she still wasn't sure he was seeing her clearly. Looking through her as if she wasn't there at all, as if she was gone from view altogether. Because to him she may already be. Just a blip in his life, just a moment, and suddenly everything that ever went unsaid between them knocked the breath out of her. Every second passed was time lost, and if you had asked her before yesterday, before a mere twelve hours ago, she would have stared you down and said she had plenty to spare.

She wasn't so sure anymore.

And yet, for all he did to push her away-

"They would have thrown a fit if they knew about us."

He kept holding on tighter and tighter.

"What?" Rose put her sketchbook down against her chest.

"Well- inferior species and all that, least that's how they'd see it."

"Who? The Time Lords?"

"Probably would have held some sort of council meeting about sullying their good name. Oh, I think I would've loved being there for that. Can you imagine? Them losing their heads over who I choose to spend my time with?" He looked off to the side as if he was picturing it for himself. A small upturn of his lips as he dreamt showed exactly how amusing he found it. Parading Rose on his arm to show he had solidified just how truly different from them he was, every look of contempt only making him prouder. He looked back at the girl in question. "See? Rebel."

Rose found herself forgetting in that moment why she was even worried in the first place. He had said it himself, hadn't he? Then it lied. She was sure then if it hadn't, he would make it so it had. The pure conviction in his eyes, in his voice, she could trust that. Trust that despite the odds when she promised him forever she meant it. They could play this game together, they could win. This time they're spending in the TARDIS, refusing to leave or separate for even a moment, this sanctuary they'd made out of pillows and blankets and clothes, this wasn't a retreat. It was a reward. They had fought for another day and won.

She smiled as she put her pencil down on the coffee table next to a mug containing tea long gone cold.

"Alright, I'll concede. Slightly rebellious."

The Doctor looked at her with mock offense before shouting. "Oh! And the TARDIS!"

"What about the TARDIS?"

"I stole it!"

"You what-"

"Admit it. Admit ittttttt-"

"Fine! Enough of a rebel for a young Rose Tyler to want a poster of you on her bedroom wall. Happy?"

"Immensely. Now lemme see." He made a move to grab the sketchbook out of her grasp, his hands easily fitting against her own on the page.

"M'not done!"

"I wanna see!"

"No!-" Rose broke out into a laughing fit as she lightly kicked at his chest, curling in on herself trying to hide her work. "You're gonna rip it!" He only tightened his hold as he moved against her, attempting to wrestle it out of her arms before he got another idea. She felt something brush against her thumb as she dropped the book altogether. He swooped in and grabbed it, huddling back to his side of the couch before she could recover.

"Did you just lick me?!"

"Worked didn't it?!" He grinned and chuckled to himself as he flipped through the pages to find her most recent drawing.

"Oh my god, you're such a child." She leaned in closer against him, rearranging his coat across her body after it had gotten tangled in their wrestling match. "It's not much, I haven't drawn in ages and even then it was nothin' special."

Rose let a nervous laugh out before realizing he wasn't even smiling anymore. She looked into his eyes and tried to get a read of his face before laughing again. "Doctor?" Still, his eyes just bore into the page. "Ok, I get it, you can just say you don't like it-"

"Can I keep this?" Hundreds of trinkets she has to remind herself of him, countless hours spent reminiscing over the best years of her life with everyone she held.

This was the first he had asked of something of hers.

"Um…y-yeah sure if you um. If you wanna-" she stopped when it finally clicked. What the face was, where she'd seen it. When he told her his favorite secrets the universe held. When he went off on a star that was just that bit more special to him than the others. When he explained the power of fundamental forces in physics in sheer awe of what they could do. When he told her his favorite secrets the universe held.

He was focused. Focused on a single element right in front of him. Focused on something that was so worth focusing on that he slowed down enough to even focus on it in the first place. And when he did, there was no escaping those eyes.

He placed his hand on the page and slowly tore it out with the precision of a surgeon. When he was done you could hardly tell there was a page missing in the first place. He didn't even look up when he said a simple "thank you" under his breath.

"Yeah, n-no problem. S'all yours then." She looked at his face and then back at her drawing. The smile didn't quite match his teeth, the nose was a bit too short, the ears weren't level, and there were stray marks across the page where she'd pressed down too hard. It was nowhere near perfect, nowhere near even average in her mind.

And yet. And yet-

He refused to look up but she felt his pinky stretch out to hers. She linked them together and leaned on his shoulder before closing her eyes. The game would not take this from her. She would never let it.

Chapter Text

     They rested for what Rose assumed amounted to a week and a half's worth of time in the TARDIS before they left the sanctuary they had created for themselves. Say what you will about the literal devil, but the arrangement they had silently agreed upon that consisted of an amount of cuddling she thought him incapable of was a needed win. In the end, neither was surprised. Just wasting away together for eternity was never an option regardless of what lay ahead, although the lack of proximity could be felt the moment he left her arms that morning. A short trip to the kitchen to make some tea, but the act itself had him rolling on the couch pretending to sleep for hours in an effort not ever to have to move again. But, life was moving on outside those doors, and enough had been enough.

     What was a surprise, however, was his suggested destination when he returned with two novelty mugs from an amusement park so far in the future Rose hadn't even remembered the year. He placed the steaming cups down on the side table, and her first hint at the change in plans should have been his choice to stand rather than curl up together again. Quite honestly she was warmer under the large comforter they had dragged in from her room than she was with him next to her. The difference in temperature between them would cause anyone to spend the night shivering, and perhaps she did unknowingly in her sleep. It should have been more comfortable.

     It was not.

     So when he didn't immediately lie back down, she shoved her face further into the pillows with a groan before making even more space for him on the cushions. Sleep was still needed, and sleep was not happening, not without him there. And now that she knew what it felt like she wasn't sure if it could happen without him there ever again. Which is why she was sinking even deeper into the couch until he said the six words she swore he would never let leave his lips in a million years.

     "We should go visit your mother."

     That had her raising her head with a quirk of the eyebrow. She looked over her shoulder, still refusing to fully get up just yet. "Should I be asking the TARDIS to look into the side effects of possession?"

     "I'm serious."

     "After the month we've had? I'm not throwing any possibility out the window, and you gettin' mind-jacked by some alien-brain-worm-"

     "Brain worm?"

     "-thing, is less of a statistical anomaly than the Doctor, ever, in his nine hundred years of life, saying he wants to visit my mother. No way. So either do whatever you're here to do or let me go back to sleep." With that, she slammed her face right back down and pulled the blanket over her head. The Doctor sipped his tea as he sat back on the edge of the couch, still not lying down. He sipped once, twice, and a third before the inevitable strike of curiosity had Rose flipping over once more, this time her whole body, to face him. "Why my mum?"

     "Thought you'd want to. After everything. Was sorta surprised you hadn't asked yet." The thought had Rose avoiding his gaze, choosing instead to look at the fireplace no longer crackling with sparks and tinder. She shifted onto her side before hugging another pillow close to her chest.

     "Dunno…guess I didn't know how to face her. Still don't. I mean…how could I…" their sanctuary was crumbling by the second, the world outside threatening its foundation. The time they had spent together existed in a bubble. One of immense comfort, of serenity, of proximity, proximity she feared would leave the second they let the rest of space and time back into their lives. In the span of a few days, they had created their own pocket of the universe, untouched by outside forces. Untouched by anything that wasn't them and the slowly diminishing inches between them. A beautiful bubble, but one created out of fear as much as it was out of love. Fear of the past, fear of the future. A fear that had seemed would never catch up to them, no matter what they did, always steps ahead while it licked at their heels. It had caught them, and they needed a remedy from it. Not forever, just…for now. For the present, for the time they didn't have to acknowledge the fear. And here he was, wanting to test the waters of what fate awaited them. She wasn't quite sure she felt the same as she curled in further on herself. "Sorry…I'm a bit of a mess I think…it's just my Mum, I don't know why I…"

     She felt the moment one of his hands snaked around her back, the other beginning to run and twist through her hair. Finally lying back down. She closed her eyes as she leaned into his touch. No, the world wasn't coming to an end around them. Not today.

     "Then we wait until we're ready." We, not just her, because he didn't know how to take the next step on his own either. Because despite her fears, he didn't want to play the game alone anymore either. Not after this. Not after knowing what this felt like. What it was like to fall asleep in someone else's arms and let the world fade away, choosing for once in his life to live in spite of the past and in ignorance of the future. To live for the here and now, however long here and now may last. Because here and now wouldn't last forever. Couldn't, not with him. But fuck if he wasn't gonna try. Claw for dear life when the edges start to fade, when he feels the future tightening around his very being. Prove there was more to this outside those doors, more to them, as much as the future would grant him, every second stolen for his here and now, not the after. He could do it, live his very best until the after. Pretend the after is nothing more than a myth until it stares him in the face. A life of held hands instead of pushing away. A life well lived. A life where he wasn't afraid of that after, not anymore, instead choosing to tunnel his vision on this, on her, on the strands of hair he weaved through his fingers.

     Neither of them realized until he was done that her hair was braided. When one of them had, however, he reached into the infinite void of his suit jacket. He reminisced on Rose's previous grievances of her own pockets, often annoyed they hardly fit her phone never the less any important trinket they picked up on their travels. Inside he found a single small rubber band and a slingshot he had stuffed in there for fun after Rose said his previous face was a better shot. He proved her right after missing an empty can of tomato soup with pebble after pebble while camping on Saturn, claiming the change in gravity was throwing him off not his lack of 20/20 vision he was secretly missing at that moment. He felt no shame in ripping the cord off the handle and wrapping it around the other tail end of Rose's hair. He smiled at his work, about to ask the girl next to him what she thought of his handiwork, before realizing she was once again asleep. Instead, he reached over her, and took a final sip from a mug that previously read "I Need Space" on its side before Rose had added a second set of words on its opposite in a blue permanent marker. It read "And Time."