Memories That Remain

[preserved_ginger]

Title: Memories that Remain
Beta: rachelbeann
Character(s), in order of appearance: Ten, Rose
Pairing(s): Ten/Rose
Rating: PG
Summary: Because you can bet what he told Donna is only one version of events ...
Disclaimer: Not Mine.
Setting: Set during Season Two, this is the story Ten recounts to Donna in I Can Still Recall. A To Days To Come story.

They’re lying on Rose’s bed, her head on his chest and his arms around her – normal for them at this stage and still more-or-less platonic, even though others (Rose’s mother comes instantly to mind) would probably think differently if they were ever to see it – chatting about everything and nothing at all. Rose seems pretty much worn out, though, and although she’s trying to stop herself falling asleep for his sake she’s rapidly losing that struggle.

“Don’t fight it, Rose. Your body needs sleep.”

He says it gently, tenderly – stroking her hair while he does so – and she mumbles something incoherent against his chest before conceding defeat and soon her breathing is slower and more rhythmic and it is clear even to him, grand master in the art of being oblivious to the obvious he is, that she is asleep.

He thinks moving her enough to pull up the covers from beneath them will wake her, and he doesn’t want to do that, so instead he moves his arm very slowly from beneath her and gets up to find one of the blankets they keep in here for just this sort of reason. He locates one quickly and drapes it gently over her to keep her warm, before sinking back down beside her on the bed. He badly wants to collect her back up into his arms, as he’s missing the physical contact with her already, but doesn’t dare as she’s exhausted and desperately needs her sleep.

He slowly stretches his long limbs out on the bed (since avoiding cramp is the smart thing to do), making himself comfortable for the long-haul since he has no intention of leaving Rose’s side if he doesn’t have to. Then the need for physical contact with Rose over-rides his common sense and he pulls her gently back into his arms, taking the opportunity at the same time to smooth down a recalcitrant lock or two of her hair. With her in his arms again he can relax slightly for a little while; thoughts of how close he had come yet again to losing the effervescent human he loved, needed, so much cluster in his mind, however, and almost overwhelm him before he manages to force them away with a great mental effort. He sighs; his arms tighten almost imperceptibly around Rose and she moves slightly against him. He freezes.

“Rose?”

No answer – of course there’s no answer, he tells himself; she’s asleep – from Rose, and he relaxes again. But he is in the mood for talking, and seemingly in the mood for confessing what he has tried and failed innumerable times before to tell her. Yet, despite this, he knows that he will never be able to get the words out when she is awake; he is too scared about what her reaction might be. Which might mean it is possible that now, when she cannot react badly to the idea that he might have feelings for her and ask him to take her home, is the best chance he will ever get.

He hates himself for not being able, being too cowardly, to tell her properly; but doing it this way is better than nothing, no?

He takes a deep breath, caresses the side of her face that isn’t lying against his chest, and tells himself that everything will still be okay once he has said it.

He hopes. There is little he will not do or say to keep her with him always – he is desperately possessive of her that way, he has found from experience – but somehow this last line is the most difficult of all for him to cross.

“Rose, I — I — oh, what’s the use? You’re asleep, anyway; it is bad enough I can’t say this to you when you’re awake. But ... but if you feel for me – and I can’t say how much I hope you do – how I feel about you, then the words aren’t necessary. If you don’t, then nothing I can possibly say will make the blindest bit of difference. It’s not perfect, I know it’s not perfect; but even I have faults, Rose. Not that you’ll ever find me admitting that, out loud, where you or anybody else can hear me.”

He is starting to babble, and he knows it; were it not for the fact that he has Rose in his arms and doesn’t want to leave her he’d be getting out of here before he says too much too loudly and wakes her. He is well aware of what he should be doing but right now he’s so content that he has no intention of doing anything of the sort, which if she wakes up —

She stirs again, and he falls silent, panicking that she has heard him effectively tell her he is in love with her. She says nothing, which makes him feel decidedly less nervous, but merely wriggles closer to him in a way that – if she keeps it up – is going to make his body start to react to hers in ways that are completely inappropriate for the situation. That is yet another reason why he is so nervous about telling her anything.

The thought having crossed his mind, he feels restless; something stirs inside of him, and holding Rose in his arms (however nice it feels, and it is nice) is not going to be enough for him for too much longer.  Even if he cannot say the words that would change everything between them irrevocably and for ever, there is nothing stopping him feeling the emotions that course through him every time he touches or looks at or thinks about her.

The restlessness gives way to a giddy recklessness and, although he knows it is not a good idea for him to kiss her, for him the thought is father to the deed and he shifts her gently in his arms until he is able to brush the lightest of kisses over her cheeks.  He lingers a little longer at her forehead, putting a little more pressure behind the kiss; he would like nothing more than to kiss her properly but he dare not; he is unsure he could explain properly if she woke up right now. Not to mention the fact that when he does kiss her – and he will, he knows he will, it is only a matter of time now – he wants her to be as fully invested in it as he is.

When he finds himself yawning scant minutes after kissing her, he realises that watching Rose asleep has been more soporific than he had expected. He does not, as a rule, need as much sleep as humans; that doesn’t mean that he is never tired, however. Right now, various things are making him far more tired than usual and he decides that taking a nap will not hurt. She is lying pretty much all over him anyway, so his decision is pretty much a fait accompli; no point in moving if all he will achieve by it is waking her, is there?

When he is in the right frame of mind, sleep comes easy to him; today is one of those days and although he doesn’t know whether it’s Rose being in his arms that makes the difference, he is inclined to think so. He shifts a bit in the bed, changing his position slightly and making it more comfortable. He is well over half way to joining Rose in sleep when she suddenly burrows in closer to him, clinging more tightly to his shirt, and the small part of him still awake wonders if she has heard him after all.

He tries to speak, to finally end the pretence that Rose is nothing but his best friend by saying those three precious words that he is fairly sure she wants to hear.

“Rose, I ... I —”

He fails to complete the sentence; his last coherent thought, just before he falls from wakefulness into sleep with alien suddenness, is as full of Rose as ever:

Oh, she knows.

Comments

[glory_jean]

*applause*

More, more, more.

*is greedy*

XD

[bananasandroses.livejournal.com]

There might be more, at some point. Glad you liked this, though :)

[pncwho.livejournal.com]

Lovely! :)

And I agree with glory_jean, more, please! :D

[bananasandroses.livejournal.com]

Lovely! :)

Thank you!

And I agree with glory_jean, more, please! :D

I’ll see what I can do ;D

[thistwilight.livejournal.com]

Amazing! :D

[bananasandroses.livejournal.com]

Amazing! :D

Thank you!

[amberfocus.livejournal.com]

That was beautiful.

[bananasandroses.livejournal.com]

That was beautiful.

Thank you! :D

[lostwolfchats.livejournal.com]

Lord - he is HOPELESS! I hope she heard!

[bananasandroses.livejournal.com]

Lord - he is HOPELESS!

He is, isn’t he? He doesn’t mean to be, either, bless him.

I hope she heard!

That ... would be telling.

[maniacalshen.livejournal.com]

That's adorable. I agree with the cries for more!

[bananasandroses.livejournal.com]

That's adorable. I agree with the cries for more!

I started this because I figured there would have been stuff about his time with Rose that Ten just wouldn’t tell anyone about, even Donna, and I wanted to see whether I could coax the story out of him. (I think there may well be more of this, as I think Rose has a thing or two to say about it.)

[theorclair.livejournal.com]

I suppose I will chorus here with the "more." I do like seeing Ten when he's not miserable, here. (Although if you write him miserable I happily read it...)

[bananasandroses.livejournal.com]

I like not-miserable!Ten as well, and I’m glad I can still manage to write him that way (there was a time when I thought I’d lost that ability). There may be more of this at some point, I’ve an idea or two in my head.

[helygen.livejournal.com]

Oh that's just gorgeous :)

*sighs*

[bananasandroses.livejournal.com]

Oh that's just gorgeous :)

Thank you! There may be more of this ... I’ve a sneaking suspicion Rose might have a thing or two to say.

[helygen.livejournal.com]

There may be more of this ... I’ve a sneaking suspicion Rose might have a thing or two to say.
Oh I hope so! :)

[bananasandroses.livejournal.com]

Not sure I have Rose’s voice down as easily as Ten’s, so it could be a bit of a wait.

[helygen.livejournal.com]

"Not sure I have Rose’s voice down as easily as Ten’s ..."
You're kidding, right? Just write it, woman - you have a natural talent for finding their voices, so stop fretting.