Chapter Text
I do not consent to my work being re-uploaded to third-party apps or websites, including Archive of Our Own, in any format (i.e. text, audio, translations, or any combinations thereof) without my explicit permission.
The soulless, sickly yellow emergency lighting glared harshly off the Doctor’s bathroom mirror and threw every shadow on his face into stark relief. Every imperfection, every decision, every miserable thought he had Ever had stared back at him as self-hatred swirled in his eyes. It was a familiar sight.
She’s in her room crying right Now because of you. Because of all the ways you’ve hurt her, all the secrets you’ve kept from her. She might Never trust you again and it would be your fault. If she didn’t want to go home Then, she almost certainly does Now.
The Doctor frowned and turned away from the mirror to stare at the long, accusatory shadows creeping up his walls. Their greedy fingers curved along the tiles, cracking and bending around every corner to point directly at him.
Liar.
Manipulator.
Worthless.
Disgusting.
Pathetic.
He slammed the light switch down, silencing his tormentors and plunging himself into darkness. But his eyes refused to be useless, insisting on revealing the faint outlines of his bathroom fixtures by the light of his bedroom. Sighing heavily, the Doctor tore his soiled clothes off and stepped into his shower stall. The frosted glass door clunked shut behind him.
The central heating didn’t run on auxiliary power, which also meant he had no functional water heater. Ice cold clarity ran over the top of his head and down his back, sending shivers down his spine. Time Lords hadn’t been lucky enough to evolve piloerection, and his metabolism revved into high gear in an attempt to maintain his internal body temperature.
Cold and miserable, he grabbed his washcloth off the little towel bar on the wall and picked up his bar of soap. It was cheap and utilitarian, half-used and pine-scented. He gave himself a quick, efficient scrub down and rinsed off just as quickly. And if he happened to scrub over his tattoo a bit more roughly than the rest of his body, well… Stains were more likely to come out with a bit of spot treatment.
Shampoo was next. He gripped the wet bottle tightly, too tightly. It slipped out of his hands and burst open, coating the floor of the shower. He didn’t complain, didn’t curse, just silently smeared it around a bit with his right foot. Once he’d made the stall nice and slippery, he removed the shower head from the wall and rinsed it all down the drain. Replacing the shower head, he picked up the shampoo and scrubbed a dollop over his scalp.
Do you think I would have curls if I grew it out? Or do you figure I got straight hair this Time? Maybe something in between, like waves. I don’t think I’ve Ever had waves before…
His exhausted ship thrummed quietly in the back of his mind, but couldn’t seem to muster up enough energy to respond properly.
Sorry, gorgeous. Don’t mind me. I’ll let you rest.
He gave himself one final rinse and stepped out of the stall with another sigh. The Doctor hastily dried himself off and wrapped a soft, fluffy towel around his waist, relishing the bit of warmth it provided. It was hard to tell if it was because of the cold shower or not, but it felt like his bathroom as a good 0.3 °C colder than it had been just 7 Minutes ago.
He scooped up his dirty clothes, jacket and all, on his way out of the bathroom and threw them into his hamper. The TARDIS usually swapped his clothes out for him while he was in the shower, but she more than deserved a break. And he could take care of himself anyway.
The Doctor grabbed a new set of clothes at random and dressed robotically. He only had the one jacket so he would have to wait for the TARDIS to-
He would have to clean it himself while he ran his clothes through the wash. RIght after he replaced the lubricant hose. And swept up the biscuit crumbs. All of which he would do after he had something to eat…and maybe drank some water. If he felt like it.
Tugging the cuffs of his jumper lower over his wrists, the Doctor forced himself to walk at a normal speed past Rose’s quiet door on his way to the galley.
*****
His options were limited as far as food was concerned. No stove, no oven, not even a microwave could run on the power reserved for the galley. But that was fine. He wasn’t really in the mood to cook.
With a miserable sigh, he grabbed a nutrient bar from the replicator by the fridge and poured himself a glass of water from the sink. He pulled a chair out and collapsed into it as he nibbled on the corner of his sustenance. It was bland, crumbly, and dry. But, given the fact that he had nothing else, it would keep him going.
He had eaten this way many Times before, sitting alone in the semi-darkness and losing half of his meal to the crumb pile quickly forming on the dining table.
Is it really so bad, Grandfather? A blown fuse is such an easy fix. Oh, do quit your grumbling and help me change it! There’s no sense eating in the dark! And it’s not like that thing will go cold…
I still don’t understand, Doctor! How could such a wee beastie take out the power to the whole ship? And what are you digging around in the food box for? You just ate before we got attacked by that devil-thing.
Come now, Doctor. You can’t spend the rest of your life wallowing in the dark. Unless that’s what this new face of yours does, of course… What the devil is that crunching noise? Are you eating something?
This wouldn’t keep happening if you had rewired the Artron Monitor the way I told you to 7.6 Weeks ago. All you’ve managed to do Now is blow another fuse. And if I have to stomach another nutrient bar, I think I may go certifiably insane!
Nyssa said you’d gone and broken the lights again. She didn’t say anything about the power to the rest of the TARDIS! What am I supposed to do with the roast I had in the oven? And don’t you dare say anything about those nasty bars. I had them once, never again!
Doctor! Would you care to tell me why my hair dryer stopped working? My hair’s still damp. And I won’t be able to do my makeup with these horrible yellow lights! Doc- What’s with the granola bar? Since when were you such a health nut?
Professor, what happened to the TARDIS? Why are all her lights all yellow? Well, they make that sad granola bar look almost edible at least. Come on! You were supposed to take me to that one planet with the big gunpowder factory, remember? There’s no time for snacks!
I’m sorry, gorgeous. I’m so sorry. But we’re going to have to retrofit you a bit. I’m not happy about it either. You know I would Never let them hurt you… But needs must. Now, let me see if I can manage to grab a snack out of the replicator before the Mechanic arrives.
There’s no Time to eat. I have to get the power back online so I can stop the- The… You’re not even listening to me, are you? No one listens to me anymore. Not a single one of those damned old codgers- May as well take my Time and have something to eat, eh?
The Doctor crushed the rest of his meal in his hand and dropped it on top of his crumb pile. He crossed the galley and grabbed the rubbish bin, sweeping his mess into the bag before chugging the rest of his water. He tossed the glass in the sink, slid the bin back into the corner, and stared at the coffee maker, briefly debating making another pot... But he needed to conserve as much power as he could.
After a long Moment, he turned away and marched off to Storage Room 2.
*****
The sound of the door slamming into the wall soothed the part of him that wanted to scream. The deafening silence that followed rang in his ears. Before the echo faded, he made a beeline for his box of hoses at the back of the room. He needed one with a 20 mm inner diameter that was at least 6 meters long. He could cut it down if it was too long, but it needed to stretch from the oil tank to the console.
He was so focused on getting the correct hose that he tripped over one of the tubs full of his things from the pocket purge. His boot clunked heavily into the side, sending everything inside jingling and clanking around, disrupting the strict organizational system he and Rose had devised.
Rassilon’s arse, that’s going to take Hours to fix…
Frustration filled the gaps in his soul and he roughly ran a hand down his face. He dropped to his knees, hose forgotten, and began reorganizing things.
5 Hours and several colorful swear words passed before the Doctor’s metabolism shifted up another gear. The temperature inside the TARDIS was dropping at an exponential rate, so much so that he was starting to feel a bit chilly without his jacket on. And if he was cold, Then Rose-
Rose wasn’t able to sense temperature changes the way he was. With the heating system turned off, she was a frog in a pot of freezing water. By the Time she was cold enough to complain about it, it might be too late.
Panic pulled him to the Doctor to his feet and yanked him down the hall to Storage Room 4. He scrambled through the door and made a sharp right towards his stash of slippers. They stared at him from their spot on the shelf, all different colors, sizes, and materials. He picked the warmest option he had, a pair of self-sizing booties lined with De’qiarin wool, and snatched them up before sprinting to Rose’s room.
Stupid, stupid Time Lord, turning off the heat. How could you forget that Rose is human?
He shouldered the bright pink door open and stepped into the Wardrobe.
Rassilon’s arse, don’t tell me the entire ship’s been shifted. The sleeping wing was bad enough, but-
“Come on, come on… It’s bloody freezing in here.” Rose was rifling through the aisles in front of him, shivering like crazy and pausing every couple of Seconds to blow on her hands.
Her complaint propelled him across the room. “Rose!”
She startled a bit, but quickly recovered. “Have you got any winter coats? It’s so dark in here, I can’t see anything!”
“I do, yeah.” He had an Avret fleece overcoat that would fit Rose almost perfectly and would allow her to stay warm as she went about her business. “Put these on and I’ll go grab one.” The Doctor shoved the slippers into her icy hands and flew up the spiral staircase in the middle of the room. The pounding of his boots on the metal drowned out whatever Rose was asking him, but he didn’t have Time to ask her to repeat herself.
He ripped the coat off the hanger and vaulted himself over the railing. His bones rattled more than a bit when he landed, but the TARDIS was too tired to berate him for it this Time.
“You know you c-can t-take the stairs down t-too, right?”
“Quicker this way.” The Doctor zipped the overcoat open and shook it out, holding it open so that Rose could slip her arms inside. “Arms up.”
Rose didn’t utter a single complaint as she padded over to where he was waiting. That fact alone would have been enough to rattle him. But coupled with the fact that her lips and fingers were turning blue… And the Doctor was doing his utmost not to fly into a blind panic.
Rose slid her arms into the sleeves with a content sigh. “Warm…” Her stiff fingers fumbled with the zipper for a Moment before she huffed and gave up.
“Nope. You’ve got to zip up.” The Doctor spun her around and zipped her in. “Right. That’s feet and core sorted. Hands…and head…” He craned his neck, searching the room and his memory for where he put his De’qiarin wool hat and gloves. He should have known his Omsomnizine-fueled ‘reorganization’ would come back to bite him in the arse.
Hindsight really is 50/50.
Rose hummed happily and snuggled further into the overcoat, tugging the collar up higher on her neck. “How did you know I was cold?”
“Because auxiliary power doesn’t work the heater and I’m having to work overtime to keep my core temperature up…. Aha!” The hat and gloves were lying on a high shelf towards the back of the first floor. He took off and swiped them off the shelf, pivoting quickly enough to squeak his boots on the floor as he ran back.
“Overtime?” Rose held her shaking hands out without prompting, allowing him to work her fingers into the gloves.
“Manual metabolic adjustment of my core body temperature. No goosebumps and shivering for me, ta.”
“Huh.” Rose took the knit cap from him and shoved it on her head, tugging it down over the red tips of her ears. Another little hum floated into the air. “Toasty.”
Her eyes finally took in his outfit and her eyebrows shot up. “Where’s your jacket? No wonder you’re cold.”
“Remember when I told you I needed to clean up a bit? Come on, move around some.” He bounced on his toes, gesturing for her to do the same. “You need to keep the blood flowing.”
“Yeah but-” She huffed and bounced a bit, rolling her eyes before continuing. “Does that mean your jacket got dirty too? Is that why you’re not wearing it?”
“Yep. I was about to go get the oil off actually, but I realized you-”
“You’ve got oil on your real leather jacket? What, like motor oil?” Rose stopped bouncing, eyes blowing wide and jaw dropping to the floor. “How long has it been?”
“5 Hours, 21 Minutes, and-”
“Oh my god!” She ran out of the Wardrobe, turning down the hall towards his room.
“Where are you going?” He took off after her, barely catching a glimpse of her golden hair disappearing into his room as he entered the hallway. He ran into his room, catching himself on the doorway. “What do you think you’re-”
Rose had her face practically buried in his jacket, eyes critically raking over every centimeter of soiled leather. “I can still save this…” She draped his jacket over one arm and dug through his hamper with her free hand. “All of this…”
“Oi! Do you mind not digging through me unmentionables?”
She gave him a curious lift of her eyebrow as picked his hamper off the floor. “You want to save these clothes, don’t you?” Her new slippers shuffled over the carpet on her way back to the door. “Then you need to move.”
“What do you know about getting oil out of clothes?”
Rose looked at him like he had dribbled on his shirt. “I worked in a clothing store for almost 3 years before meeting you, Doctor. I’ve learned a thing or two about cleaning difficult fabrics. And one of those things is that stains come out better if you get to them quick. Now scooch.” She pushed past him, knocking him in the leg with his hamper.
“Hold on a Minute!”
“Your jacket hasn’t got a minute! So you go fix the heat and I’ll get the oil off your clothes. Does that sound fair to you?’
His mind rocked onto its back foot, stunned into compliance at her commanding attitude. “I suppose so…”
“Right, then. Off you get.” She jogged off towards the washroom, dragging his hamper behind her.
Flabbergasted and doing his best to avoid comparing her to Jackie, the Doctor simply turned and calmly made his way back to Storage Room 2.
*****
3.04 Hours later, the Doctor had replaced the lubricant hose and started working on the life support systems. Getting things fixed so he could take Rose home was important, but if she froze to death before Then, it would be all for naught.
But he was getting thirsty. And hungry. So, so hungry. Keeping his core temperature at a relatively acceptable level was putting a massive strain on his metabolism.
He frowned and swapped his wire cutters for a pair of pliers. Rolling the tension out of his shoulders, he forced thoughts of hunger and thirst from his mind. He had enough energy left to pry the covering off the breaker box for the Peripheral Shielding. And Then he would take a break. Maybe.
“Doctor? Are you down there?” The gentle thud of wool slippers on the grating was a delightful counterpoint to his strained, racing pulse, sending a wave of calm contentment over him. “I have good news! And soup!”
His stomach growled painfully as the scent of warm chicken noodle wafted down to where he stood in the belly of his ship. Swallowing a sudden rush of saliva, he threw his pliers back in his toolbox and began back up the ladder. “How did you heat up the soup? The galley’s barely got enough power for the lights.” Poking his head out from the hole in the grating, he was pleased to see Rose sitting cross-legged and flushed, pink and warm, just off to the side.
“I punched a hole in the top of the can and held it over a candle for a couple minutes. Easy.” She shrugged and blew on a spoonful of broth before slurping it down with gusto.
The Doctor pulled himself up and sat on the edge, dangling his feet back down into the hole. “Where did you learn to do that?” He picked up his own bowl and enjoyed the warmth seeping into his stiff fingers for a Moment before taking a sip.
“Mum forgot to pay the electric bill once. Or twice.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, blushing in embarrassment. “Maybe three times.” Another spoonful of soup went down.
“Well, thank you for the soup. It’s delicious.” It was box standard canned, preservative-laden, condensed chicken noodle soup. And it was perfect. He took another sip and a long noodle slapped him in the chin before he was able to slurp it down. Rose’s giggle warmed him further. He managed a little grin as he wiped his face on the back of his hand. “You said something about good news?”
“Yeah.” She set her bowl down and twisted around, grabbing something off the ground behind her. “Ta-da!” Rose whipped back to the front, thrusting his jacket out towards him.
It was spotless, shining almost like new in the red emergency lighting of the Time Rotor. Soft and freshly conditioned, it didn’t make a sound as Rose waved it around triumphantly. The Doctor set his own soup down and grabbed at a flailing sleeve, marvelling at the buttery feel of the leather against his fingertips. “Rose… This looks fantastic!” He beamed widely at her. “Thank you.”
Her smile rivalled his. “Turn around.”
“What?”
“Turn around and put your arms out!” She waved his jacket at him like a matador, still smiling like crazy.
He couldn’t help the little chuckle that bubbled up from his chest. “Alright, alright.” He did as commanded, lifting his arms obediently to his sides. Rose’s gentle caress as she worked his jacket back onto his body, even through her gloves and over his jumper, sent sparks of pride and excitement shooting up his arms.
“There. Good as new. Though, I have to say, there’s something about you in just a jumper that I really like.” The gentle teasing in her voice pulled another chuckle out of him.
“Is that so?” The Doctor straightened and picked up his soup, taking another large gulp as his leather molded softly back against his body.
“Yeah.” A flash of pheromones hit his nose for just a Moment, before it was replaced by trepidation. “Listen… Can we talk?”
The Doctor narrowly avoided choking on the sudden shift in atmosphere. “Um, yeah. Yes, of course. What did you want to talk about?”
“I was just thinking…” She stirred her soup, clinking her spoon against the side of the bowl. “Why didn’t you tell me about Missy? You never really said…”
“I didn't really think it was relevant at the Time."
Her anger spiked, hot and sharp. “I think the fact I’m not supposed to exist is very relevant, thank you very much!"
He hung his head and stared at the bits of carrot floating in his bowl. "You’re right. I should have told you as soon as I found out… You deserved to know.”
He licked his lips and forced himself to voice his fears. “But I've Never seen something like this before, Rose. I’ve Never seen someone like you before. I don’t know what Time travel will do to someone like you, or what someone like you will do to the places and Times we visit. I don’t know how or why you can talk to the TARDIS so easily, or if it’s doing damage to either of you. I don’t have any satisfying answers to any of the questions that I know you have. And I’m sorry for that, too. You deserve answers, but I can’t give them to you.”
He dipped a finger into his soup, tracking a drop of broth as it ran down the side of his finger. “And it frightens me, Rose. The last thing I would Ever want to do is hurt you.” He wiped his finger off on his jumper, locking eyes with the Time Rotor. “Either of you. And I’m afraid I’m already doing it.”
Silence fell between them, thick enough to cut with a knife. It was just too bad they only had spoons. When it seemed like Rose wasn’t going to say anything else, the Doctor gulped down the rest of his soup and flipped around to climb back down the ladder. “Thanks again for the soup, Rose. And cleaning my jacket. I really do appreciate it.” He hardly made it one rung down before Rose stopped him.
“I found this. In your jacket pocket.”
His head snapped up and over to where Rose was twirling her TARDIS key between her fingers. “How-”
“I didn’t go digging for it. I just needed to empty your pockets so I could clean your jacket. And I found it. Do you-” She took a shuddery breath in. And let it out, tinged with resignation. “Do you want it back?” Her eyes lifted to hold his gaze, brimming with tears and hesitation.
His hearts beat against his ribs, heavy and painful. It would be so easy to take the key back, to draw that line and tell her she had gone too far. But that would imply he was totally blameless in this situation, nothing but a victim. And that wasn’t fair. “It’s yours. If you want it.”
She blinked, a single tear running down her right cheek, tracing directly over the scar just beneath her eye. Her racing heart echoed around the room, punctuating each shallow breath as she turned his words over in her head. Her throat bobbed on a thick swallow and a disbelieving smile flickered to life on her face. “I want it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
His hearts leapt for joy, choking him with relieved elation. “Me too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
They stared at each other silently for 3.84 Seconds, before Rose broke into tired, joyful laughter. The Doctor couldn’t help but join in. Their unique song of happiness smoothed over the sharp edges of their divide and began to stitch them both back together.
And Then the tears began to fall.
Rose buried her face in her hands and cried. And cried. And cried.
The Doctor hoisted himself back up onto the grating and scooted over to her, wrapping her in his arms. She clung to his jacket and buried her face in the side of his neck. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry! For everything. I- I said…such awful things.”
He hadn’t been too kind either. In this, too, he would need to shoulder some of the blame. The Doctor held her closer, and whispered her absolution into her hair. “I forgive you.”
Rose stiffened a bit in his arms. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“I don’t deserve it.”
“Yes you do.” The Doctor pushed her back gently and gave her a small smile.
She frowned, lips twitching as she fought to hold back more tears. Her hands tightened on his lapels, squeaking over the freshly cleaned leather. “Okay.”
He cupped her face, wiping her tears away with his thumbs. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m a bit tired of being cold. If I had an extra pair of hands, we’d get to turn the heating back on a lot sooner. Have you got some extra Time?”
She wiped under her eyes, quieting her sniffles. “I think I can make some room in my schedule. It might have to wait until I’ve had some sleep, though. I’m knackered.”
“You’ve had quite the long Day. You go rest up. I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.”
She hummed in delight and bit her lower lip. “Would it be too much to ask for you to walk me to my room? It might have moved again”
“Not at all. We can’t have you getting lost, can we?” He stood and held a hand down to her.
Rose gripped his hand tightly in her glove-covered fingers and didn’t let go until they reached her door. She cracked it open and checked the inside. “Okay, looks like this is my room again. Um…” Her cheeks flushed and her eyes darted down to his mouth.
The Doctor’s stomach flipped at the unspoken question in her eyes. He bent down and pecked her lightly on the cheek, relieved at the heat radiating off her skin. “Sleep well, Rose.”
“Good night, Doctor.”
