preserved_ginger

Title: Moving Forward
Series: The Darkening Sky
Sequel to: A Hundred Million Suns And Stars
Beta:

glory_jean
Characters: Rose Tyler, The Doctor
Pairings: Ten/Rose
Rating: 12
Timeline: Season Two, between The Satan Pit and Fear Her
Disclaimer: The Doctor and Rose belong to the BBC.
Summary: However much you need to, you can’t keep somebody wrapped in cotton-wool for ever.

There was no way, after that kiss, either of them would agree to go back to how things had been “before”. He also seemed determined to woo her properly. Still, with a marked aversion to cliché, he was determined not to go to the “usual” lovers’ haunts – or at least none of the ones Rose might, as a human, have expected. He took her, instead, to the most beautiful places he could remember.

He’d considered taking her to Utsunomiya first. A quiet and gentle planet in the Delivrot System it was, according to what he told Rose, the planet of lovers. The darkly possessive look he threw her when he imparted the information left her in little doubt of his intentions. They were much more touchy-feely these days as the last few inhibitions between them started to weaken and although they had yet to fully become lovers, both of them were fully aware that they were headed in that direction.

Utsunomiya, however, was something of a tourist trap and so he chose to take her to Mynyddoedd Yn Canu – The Singing Mountains – of Jubleperhis, instead. Rose was enchanted by the gentle music the Mountains made, similar – as he told her, a broad grin on his face as he rejoiced in the wonder in her expression – to the sirens of Utsunomiya.

Of course, his slow – to her mind almost maddeningly so, although she had never said as much to him – seduction suffered from frequent interruptions by aliens determined on some level of universal domination. Some of them, Rose thought, were up there with Daleks and Cybermen in their ruthlessness and plain evil. It seemed to her that it was a rare event these days that one or both of them, or both, weren’t being arrested or kidnapped or something depressingly similar by a despotic régime they had somehow managed to annoy – sometimes simply by existing.

She’d once spent several distinctly uncomfortable days as the (forced) fiancée of an Outer Xautam politician notorious in seven star systems for his violent behaviour before the Doctor had managed to find and free her. For at least three weeks after that – she’d lost count of exactly how many days it had been, by the end – she’d had him fussing over her and refusing to let her out of his sight for longer than the few minutes it took her to use the toilet or have a shower. And still, no matter what angle she tried, she couldn’t get him to open up to her properly. It was hugely frustrating.

After about the middle of the second week, she gauged it to be afterwards, she’d started feeling stifled. She’d had enough of the cotton-wool treatment, and started to let the Doctor know as much in no uncertain terms. For a day or so, he managed to put her off by kissing her into submission.

*/+\*

It couldn’t have lasted, much as he would have preferred it. The novelty of kisses, nice as they were, wore off remarkably quickly and he found himself casting about for another distraction. He knew he should be telling her why he was so protective of her, he knew she would understand, but he’d become so used to not revealing his deepest feelings and reasoning behind them that he found himself unable to break the pattern. And so the situation between them, far from the seduction he had planned, became increasingly fraught. He was being clingy, almost disastrously so, and he knew it. But he couldn’t seem to stop himself: and neither could he bear to tell her why.

Leinta, on reflection, was a mistake.

At the time, though, it had seemed to be a good idea. Leinta was one of the smaller planets of the Tilax system and, as far as he’d remembered, a peaceful place with no wars to speak of. A beautiful garden planet, he’d thought it the perfect place for the two of them to kick back, relax, talk the situation through and try to move their relationship forward from the mess he’d seemingly made of it. Of course basing the choice of where to travel on outdated information – he’d last been there when he was in his eighth body – was simply asking for trouble, and so it proved.

When he landed them there, just after Rose had seriously started to chafe at the restrictions he’d placed on her, it turned out that the Paderborno had invaded and a bloody war had broken out between the invaders and a rapidly-expanding group of resistance fighters. He’d taken one look at the situation unfolding in front of them when he’d followed Rose out of the TARDIS before unceremonially bundling her back inside.

Seething, she’d complied – although she’d not had any other option with his body blocking the doorway. She hadn’t particularly wanted to become a needless statistic any more than he had wanted it for her. But it was more the principle of the thing. They’d just about managed to get back in to the Vortex before a chance comment of his had her making pointed remarks on how he’d stopped letting her do anything even remotely dangerous.

“You never let me do anything!” she’d complained.

“Even if you wanted to risk your life in a war-zone for no reason whatsoever, which I somehow doubt,” he’d snapped at her, “there’s no way I’m prepared to let you try!”

The row that sparked from that was the biggest they’d had in a while and certainly since he’d regenerated. The pressure had got to both of them. Cabin fever, of a sort, and had they’d realised that sooner then perhaps the situation wouldn’t have come to a head in quite such a distressing manner.

“Maybe,” she’d screamed at him, “you’d prefer it if I went home. That way you wouldn't have to worry about me any more!”

“Much as that option currently appeals, Rose,” he shouted back, “I can’t let you leave me.”

Still at top volume, Rose shouted back.

“Then perhaps you’d be so kind as to explain why that is?”

At that point he went unnaturally quiet for a moment, before replying in a voice oddly gentle in comparison to the slightly shrill one he’d used before.

“Because I need you.”

Rose was thoroughly riled and not, therefore, spending the time she would normally have done thinking about her choice of language.

“Sometimes, Doctor,” she spat – and the clear implication was that she was still thinking in terms of the Pompadour woman – “I have the distinct impression that the only person you need is yourself.”

His reaction to that was thoroughly predictable.

“That’s remarkably unfair!” he shouted back. “Are you going to hold that against me for ever?”

He watched her cock her head briefly, clearly considering what he’d said, before she appeared to deflate.

“Why does it always have to be you,” she asked, in a very quiet voice deeply laced with pain, “who decides what is and isn’t ‘fair’?”

That gave him pause for a few seconds, giving both of them precious time they needed to calm down. Breathing hard, each stared at the other; neither wanting to be the one to back down. Several moments followed, and the atmosphere became increasingly strained; he found himself craving the feel of her hand in his and eventually found himself holding his hand out to her in an attempt to offer a ceasefire of sorts.

He was unprepared for just how strong a sense of sheer relief coursed through him when he felt her slip her fingers through his. A sense of relief bested only by the electricity that immediately followed it. He closed his eyes and let the feeling sweep through him, knowing that he couldn’t hide the depth of his feelings from her for too much longer – and knowing, also, that he might not be able to keep her with him once she knew the full truth about him.

Because nobody stayed, once they knew the whole of him.

He had the sneaking suspicion that this time would hurt more than it had ever done hitherto. A hurt that would be so deep it would be almost visceral. He had let her in too deeply, had let her become far more important to him than he ever ought to have done, and what’s more had only himself to blame. He was finally willing to let himself admit to somebody else that not only did he love them, but that he was in love with them.

He could only hope that it didn’t turn out too badly. That he didn’t manage to ruin the most important relationship he’d had with another person in years. Because Rose, at this stage, seemed still somewhat dazed and confused and in a comparatively large amount of emotional pain.

And the cause of all that emotional pain was standing right in front of her.