#grooblier

Rose was lying on top of her covers, idly playing with her hair. She wanted to nap so her mind would stop turning, but no matter what she did she could not. Suddenly, her door opened and the Doctor was standing in the doorway. She pushed herself up, too surprised to chide him for not knocking.

The Doctor swallowed. “Romana hated e. e. cummings.” His voice was still gruff with emotion.

Rose paused before responding. “Romana. Was that your wife?”

The Doctor nodded. “I loved his poetry, especially the one you just recited for me. Oh, she and I would argue about it. She would say it was unintelligible nonsense; I would tell her that his poetry is meant to be felt and experienced just as much as it is to be read.”

He was pacing the room, laughing despite the tears that were obviously threatening to run down his face. His hair stood up in tufts where he kept raking his hands through it. Rose curled up, holding her knees to her chest. She refused to break the spell that was allowing him to talk about his past. The Doctor finally stopped and sank down to sit on the edge of Rose’s bed.

“She loved Tennyson. ‘The Lady of Shalott,’ ‘Crossing the Bar,’ ‘In Memorium.’” His voice cracked with the last title. “That’s what I read for her when…” he trailed off, trying to keep what little composure he had left. “She adored the flair of his writing. You couldn’t convince her that any other writer compared. She was infuriatingly stubborn.”

Rose reached for his hand, and he grabbed on to it like a lifeline. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“I just...” The tears that he had held back began to fall down his face. “I just miss them so much.” They both sat for an unknown length of time, as the Doctor accepted the first comfort since he had lost his wife and child four years before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Rose knew that the Doctor still had a long road ahead of him. Since that day in her room, she never pushed for him to talk to her. Every once in a while he would mention something about Romana or Susan, only to immediately change the subject.

  They returned to their routine of working together. Rose talked about her dreams of traveling; the Doctor shared his many experiences. Though they worked every day, progress seemed to continue slowly. All was as before, except now the Doctor was a little kinder and would occasionally take her hand for a moment. It felt right.

  Rose wasn’t sure what all of this meant, nor did she care. They just got on with it. 

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Five weeks passed, and the Doctor deemed that Rose was ready to remove the cast. Rose dressed herself up in a smart pink frock that Sarah had made for her. She was finishing pinning up her hair into a loose bun when a fierce rapping came upon her door.

“Rose? Rose? Are you ready yet?” She could practically hear the Doctor bouncing on the balls of his feet in those American basketball shoes he insisted on wearing. She could also hear Luke on the other side of the door, stage-whispering. “Does she know yet?” The Doctor soundly shushed and shooed him off. “Roooooose. You can’t possibly still be fixing your hair.”

Rose grinned and clacked up to the door, opening it. “Oh, I was just going to take the crutches for one last spin. I’m actually going to miss the speed of these blasted things.”

“I’m actually quite sick of helping you downstairs, as I’m sure everybody else is.” The Doctor grinned unrepentantly.

Rose rolled her eyes, “Oh, come on, then.”

He followed her into the med room where the mess had been miraculously cleaned. “What’s all this?” she asked.

“Special day! Cast off the plaster and all that.” He took out a small saw and in almost no time had the cast removed. Rose looked down at her pale, wrinkly foot, and a wide smile spread across her face. She moved to hop down, but the Doctor stopped her. “Woah, there. Easy does it. Let me help you to make sure you can carry your own weight.” The Doctor took both of her hands into his, and Rose slid off the edge of the medical bed. She tentatively took several steps forward then grinned. She let go of the Doctor’s hands and made a brisk circle around the room. She began to laugh, and the Doctor joined in with her.

Spontaneously, she stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck, still gleeful. Before he could think, the Doctor wrapped his arms around her waist and swung her from side to side. They then became aware of themselves, and he quickly set her back down. He rubbed the back of his neck, while she cautiously smiled up at him.

“The Brigadier, Sarah Jane, and Luke are all waiting, we’d better get downstairs,” he said, opening the door for her.

“What are we doing now?”

“Well, I know you’ve been spending most of your time upstairs, thought we’d go downstairs for a bit.” They rounded the corner to the right staircase where the three Stewarts were standing, waiting. The Doctor let Rose walk down the staircase by herself, but stood closely enough to catch her if her ankle gave out.

After hopping off the last step, Sarah Jane hugged Rose, and the Brigadier saluted her. Rose giggled. The Doctor came up from behind her and said, “Rose, there’s been something I’ve been meaning to show you. Got a little bit sidetracked- but you’ll have that when you’re as brilliant as me.”

Rose scoffed. “You think you’re so impressive.”

“Oi!” The Doctor squeaked, albeit, more than he meant to. “I am so impressive!” He took Rose’s hand and began leading her down a back corridor. “Come on!”

The Brigadier gave Sarah Jane a look, and she reflexively elbowed him in the ribs as the three followed them from a distance.

Rose could barely keep up with the Doctor’s stride. He stopped in front of ornate double door and whirled around to face her. “Here, I want you to close your eyes.”

Rose lifted a skeptical eyebrow.

“Rose, it’s a surprise!”

She laughed, not being able to resist the Doctor’s slight pout and complied.  The Doctor waved his hand in front of her eyes to see if she reacted to the movement. He then pulled the doors open and took Rose’s hand while leading her into the dark room.

“Can I open them?”

“Not yet!” she could hear the Doctor scurrying to the opposite side of the room. She could hear the whoosh of large curtains being drawn back, and through her eyelids she could see the light streaming into the room. The Doctor returned to her side.

“Now, can I open them?”

“All right, now.”

Rose opened her eyes and squinted at the light. When her eyes focused, she gasped. She was in the biggest library she had ever seen. Books covered every inch of wall space, all the way up to the vaulted ceilings. Ladders and spiral stairwells led up from the floor to the highest shelves. Rose walked to the nearest shelf and ran her fingers down the spine of a book.

“Seems like my ancestors were building an armory up, but with books. Books! Best weapons in the world.” The Doctor’s babbling tapered off, and he tugged at his ear uncertainly. Rose remained turned around and silent. “Don’t you like it?”

“Like it?” Rose turned around to face him, with her tongue-touched smile. “It’s fantastic! Oh, thank you!” Rose again hugged the Doctor, but this time they didn’t let go as abruptly. They stepped back and grinned at each other.

The Stewarts stood in the doorway observing the two. The Brigadier leaned over to his wife and whispered, “There may be something there that wasn’t there before.” 

Rose had become quite adept at traveling on crutches. These were much lighter and, paradoxically, much stronger than the wooden ones her friends had had to use when they were children. She still had to have someone nearby whenever she tried the steep stairs, but otherwise her swift clacking could be heard echoing the hallways of the castle.

The Doctor had kept his distance since that day he opened up to her. He would come and check on her ankle, make sure it wasn’t swelling, then make an excuse to leave. Rose became increasingly frustrated. Why did he keep pushing her away when all she wanted to do was be his friend? She had seen a break in his armor, and she wanted nothing more than to chip away at that hole. Today she was going to find him and try to befriend him. Rose Tyler was on a mission, and the Doctor could not possibly realize what was about to hit him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rose looked in the study that the Doctor usually haunted first. Nope, not there. Rose couldn’t hear any kind of movement or sound from farther into the West Wing, and she dared not try and disturb him there. Rose then remembered how the Doctor said that his hobby was working on that medical equipment, so she about-faced and went to the end of the hallway.

As she approached the door, she was stopped by the Doctor’s voice. “I could hear your incessant tap-tapping coming this way, so you might as well turn your energies in the other direction. I’m busy!” Rose ignored his grouching and opened the door.  The Doctor was sitting on the floor surrounded by pieces of metal, wires wrapping around his shoulders. His hair was sticking up in the front like a bird’s plumage, and his tongue was touching the back of his top teeth in concentration. The messy scruff still hid most of his face and neck. Hanging on the tip of his nose were a pair of tortoiseshell spectacles, which he automatically pushed back up his face as he looked up at her. Rose couldn’t help but stare at the man before her. Before, Rose had always found men of the more brawny persuasion attractive, but she could now see the advantages of the swotty look.  

“Came here for one of your staring matches, eh? Well, I already told you I’m busy, as you can see.” The Doctor went back to tinkering on the machinery in his hand, obviously thinking that would dismiss her.

“What do you have there?” Rose asked, coming farther into the room.

“Nothing I have time to explain to you,” the Doctor retorted.

“Try me.”

The Doctor rattled off something complicated about the manipulation of sound waves and how they could eventually replace the use of x-ray. Rose did not understand most of the technical jargon he threw at her but was surprised at her own ability to keep up.

“So, you’re basically trying to find a way to scan with the least amount of harm to the patient or technician, yeah? And you’re convinced sound waves are the way to go?” Rose tried her best to keep her face in an inquisitive look without letting her inner smug grin shine through.

The Doctor gaped at her, then shut his mouth with a sharp click. “Well, if you’re so clever, you can help me by giving me that wire there.” Rose reached over for the wire and handed it to him. The Doctor began wrapping it around a piece he was working on, and then he paused and looked back up at Rose. “You might as well sit down, since you’ve decided to take up residence here.”

Rose smiled, tongue-in-teeth. “Better with two.”

“Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice in the matter.” As she eased herself down, his mouth pulled into a small grin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The work became a daily ritual for the both of them. Rose would come in, the Doctor would hem and haw for a few minutes and then they would get to work. Rose found his work incredibly interesting and was now pinching books from his workroom to read in the evenings. She tentatively began to ask him questions, and his resulting bright grins were almost worth more to her than the answers she was seeking.

Rose was tightening some small screws on a part when the Doctor asked her, “So, Rose Tyler, what did you read whilst peddling your books?”

She looked up in slight confusion. He never asked her anything remotely personal, she thought, for fear that she would ask the same of him. But she was not going to waste this opportunity. “Oh, you know, whatever. I read a few novels. A little bit of poetry, too.”

“How uncharacteristically vague.  One would think that you were ashamed of your tastes.”

“No! I mean, I’m not as well read as I would like to be.”

The Doctor smiled, and she could see he was just winding her up. “So, what are your favorites of what you read?”

Rose paused in her work, focusing on a point in the wall, and then said. “Twain. I know it’s not vogue to like American novelists, but he’s brilliant. He has a very intuitive grasp of human nature- though sometimes a bit harsh.” Rose blushed at the proud smile that crossed the Doctor’s face.

The Doctor affected a rather poor Southern accent. “’No. 3. They require that the personages in a tale shall be alive, except in the case of corpses, and that always the reader shall be able to tell the corpses from the others. But this detail has often been overlooked in the "Deerslayer" tale.’”

Rose couldn’t help herself any longer and burst out laughing. “’Fenimore Cooper’s Literary Offenses’ is my favorite. It makes me laugh so hard I cry every time I read it!”

“What poetry did you like?”

“Oh, I love Keats and Shelley.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes. “Of course, the bloomin’ Romantics.”

“Oh, and I’m sure you enjoy the likes of Pound and Eliot.”

“Oi! Eliot’s ’Prufrock’ is sheer genius!”

“’And would it have been worth it, after all /After the cups, the marmalade, the tea, /Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me, / Would it have been worth while, / To have bitten off the matter with a smile…’” Rose smiled at the surprise on the Doctor’s face. “Yeah, I can see why a grump like you would like it.”

The Doctor huffed at her half-heartedly. “Since you’re such a connoisseur, what poem do you feel is worthy of your regard?”

Rose hesitated and looked to her lap before she started reciting,

“’somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond

any experience, your eyes have their silence:

in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,

or which i cannot touch because they are too near 

your slightest look easily will unclose me

though i have closed myself as fingers,

you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens

(touching skilfully, mysteriously)her first rose 

or if your wish be to close me, i and

my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,

as when the heart of this flower imagines

the snow carefully everywhere descending; 

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals

the power of your intense fragility: whose texture

compels me with the color of its countries,

rendering death and forever with each breathing 

(i do not know what it is about you that closes

and opens; only something in me understands

the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)

nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands’”

The Doctor was completely silent, and Rose slowly looked up, afraid to meet his condescension. Instead, she saw tears brimming in his eyes, and as their eyes met he roughly cleared his throat and broke the contact.

Rose scooted herself towards where he was sitting and hesitantly laid a hand on his arm. “Are you all right?”

“Always am.” He replied gruffly.

Rose searched his face and made a decision to push the issue. “No. No, you’re not. I’m not going to make you tell me why you’re upset, but the least you could do is not lie to me.”

“As if that’s ever going to be enough for you. All you ever do is pick, pick, pick.”

She took a couple of deep breaths before replying. “Doctor, you’re not going to bully me into running away this time. Quit trying so hard.”

The Doctor sat in silence while staring ahead, maintenance long set aside.

Rose looked down at his hand that was laying palm up on the floor beside her. She reached down and threaded his fingers with hers. He turned sharply to her. She gazed back at him and gently squeezed his hand. His fingers then tightened around hers. They both leaned against the wall in silence for a few moments. Rose then squeezed his hand again before letting go and scooting back to her crutches. 

She broke the tense silence. “You know where I am if you want to talk. Or not, you know, whatever.”

The Doctor nodded without looking at her and Rose left the room, softly shutting the door.

The Doctor sped back to the med room, furiously tapping the rhythm of Moonlight Sonata on his trouser leg. Why bring it up? Idiot, nincompoop, thick, thick, THICK. He turned back into the room and shut the door. Locked it for good measure. He leaned against the frame, eyes shut, and slid down the door to the floor. The memories that he spent every hour trying to repress, whether through drink or work, now mercilessly assaulted him.

Romana laughing, grasping his arm as they ran away from the farmer who caught them trespassing-

  The halo of her hair, glowing like it was on fire in the sunrise, on that first morning of their honeymoon-

  The doctor placing Susan in his arms, her tiny body cuddling to his, cupid’s bow mouth slowly twitching in sleep-

  Walking up to the bay window of their small cottage in London, watching Romana and Susan twirling in the garden-

  The Doctor pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to shove them back into his brain to make it stop.

Walking in the door of their cottage to see Romana’s mother’s tear-stained face.

  Unyielding granite in the snow…my dancing girl…Susan hated the cold…

  Romana’s golden locks dull, her face red, each breath painfully dragging itself from her lungs…

  My fault.

  My fault.

  …I wasn’t there.

  The sound of Rose’s laughter broke the Doctor’s downward spiral. He dragged both hands down his face and stood to his feet. X-ray, right. He pulled the film with the image and placed it up to a light. Fractured, yes, but easily set. Cast, five to six weeks healing, probably. He looked around the room for a set of crutches he had made. Lightweight, easy to use- if only they could be a little more sonic. He allowed himself a small smile as he thought about his recent attempts, and failures, to create technology that relied on the manipulation of sound waves.

Rose laughed again, and he let his thoughts wander to the newest tenant of the castle. She was much older than what he had anticipated- and much brighter. She loved to wander around the gardens, and seemed to have made fast friends with his staff. He had thought that his blustering would have deterred her interest, but she had…tenacity. She was an attractive girl, with a smile…No. No, we are not going down THAT road. She may be more clever and easier on the eyes than what the rest of this county has to offer, but she’ll be gone soon, with the end of this war. The Doctor gathered up the rest of the supplies he would need to make the cast and set off back to Rose. 

Rose awoke to a blurred form above her. She blinked several times and the amorphous figure cleared to show the concerned face of Sarah Jane. “Oh, sweetheart. You’re awake.” Rose tried to pull herself up, and Sarah Jane kept her from lifting herself too quickly. “No, Rose. You’ve been hurt. Just take it easy. Here, drink this.” She handed Rose a small glass of water. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore. Like a thousand elephants paraded on my head.” She shifted, noticing that her ankle was being held stationary.

“Oh, the Doctor wrapped your ankle while you were still out, dear. Seems you may have broken it in your fall,” Sarah Jane clarified.

Rose lifted the sheets covering her legs and saw an expertly wound bandage covering her right foot. Flashes of what caused the injury began to come back, chagrin crossing her face.  “Where is the Doctor?”

“Oh, I finally convinced that man to go to bed. He said that there was nothing to fear, but he’s hardly left your room since last night.”

Rose looked at the waning light of a sunset basking the room in an orange glow. “You’ve been out for about nineteen hours. The Doctor said there was no concussion, that you were just resting off stress.” Sarah Jane’s lips trembled. “When I finally got him to tell me what happened, all he would say was that he said he scared you, and that you had run off.” 

“It was my fault.” Rose said, looking at her lap. “I was poking where I shouldn’t have.”

“Whatever you did, Rose, it wasn’t worth the rage that man brought down on you, I’m sure,” Sarah Jane said firmly. “Now, I’m going to go get you something to eat. Fancy a cuppa, as well? I’m sure you’re famished!”

Rose nodded, and Sarah Jane rose and left the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Luke brought up Rose’s dinner, and the two talked briefly as she ate. Dinner finished, Rose started to feel tired again and started to doze off. When she woke up, the fire Luke had built for the evening had started to die down. As her eyes drifted around her room, she noted a figure standing in her doorway watching her. The Doctor. The shirtsleeves of his light blue oxford were rolled up, and his hands were tucked in his trouser pockets. His brown hair was still in disarray, but his appearance was neater than she had seen it yet. Her eyes locked with his, and she swallowed.

“So, you’re awake then,” his voice still carried a bit of the brashness of their first meeting.

“Yes.”

“Miracle you’re still with us, what with your idiotic scheme to run away in the middle of a monsoon.”

Rose’s jaw dropped in indignation. “If you hadn’t frightened me so, I wouldn’t have run off in the middle of the night!”

“How can you turn this on me? You weren’t supposed to be there, ever!” the Doctor spluttered.

“You need to learn to curb that preposterous temper!”

The Doctor’s mouth moved like a goldfish’s, but no sound came out.

Rose turned her head to the side, taking in a few breaths. She then turned back to him, gaze softening. “Thank you, though, for…” she looked down at her hands as her words failed her.

“Don’t mention it,” the Doctor replied quietly, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll um, I’ll be back in the morning to check on your ankle- see if it’s broken. Don’t try and do something ridiculous like walk on it.”

“I won’t. Frankly, I don’t think I could if I wanted to.”

The Doctor’s mouth quirked into a half-smile, the first Rose had ever seen on his face. “Oh, I’m quite certain you’re pigheaded enough to try. Right then. Go to sleep.” The Doctor shut the door and left.

Rose stared at the door for a few minutes before her body insisted she comply.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

   The next morning, the Brigadier carried Rose into her bathroom, and Sarah Jane helped her to clean her hair. After they were finished, the Brigadier came back in to carry Rose back to her bed.

Rose got slightly flustered as Sarah Jane tucked the covers about her. “You all are too kind to be helping me, but if I have to remain an invalid for long, I may go a little mental.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I would say you’re already nearly there.” The Doctor’s voice carried in from the hallway as he strode in the door with a small grin on his face. The Brigadier and Sarah Jane shared a look as Rose narrowed her eyes at the Doctor. Sarah Jane patted Rose’s hand and took her husband’s arm. “We’ll go down to make up a little lunch.”

The Doctor came up and pulled back Rose’s covers.

“Oi!” Rose exclaimed. “Have you ever actually had dealings with human beings before? Let alone ladies? How about asking?”

The Doctor gave her an exasperated look. “May I please check the ankle that you have possibly fractured, milady?”

Rose smiled cheekily, with a hint of tongue caught in her teeth. “You may.”

The Doctor stared at her mouth for the briefest second, and then his expression shifted into a medical mask. He pulled back her sheets the rest of the way, and gently lifted her ankle. Rose flinched, and he looked back at her. “I’m sorry, so sorry, but I need to set it if it is broken.”

He began to unwrap her ankle methodically, while holding her ankle in place with his other hand to keep from hurting her. Rose was so mesmerized at how efficient he was at his work, that she was able to keep from thinking about the pain. Rose then considered his face while he continued. Why was he no longer practicing medicine?

Once the bandage was off, his cool fingers gently probed at her swollen ankle. “Can you move it at all?” She hesitantly flexed forward, gasping at the resulting pain.  “All right, then. We’re going to have to get you an x-ray.”

“So we’re going into town, yeah? Where’s the nearest hospital?”

“No need. I have the necessary equipment here.”

“A full x-ray machine. Here,” Rose repeated slowly.

“Yep.” The Doctor popped the ‘p.’ “Now, Dame Rose,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “may I please carry milady to yonder room so that I may scan your edematous ankle with an x-ray generator?”

Rose’s eyes grew rounder, completely losing their mirth. “Um, sure.”

The Doctor easily lifted her, despite his lean frame, and began carrying her down the hallway, deeper into the East Wing. Rose kept her eyes firmly focused ahead and away from the Doctor’s face. He stopped at a door, and after standing a minute, asked Rose, “Would you mind?”

“Oh!” Rose fumbled for the doorknob in front of her. The door opened and revealed medical machinery in a room worthy of the most modern hospital. He set her down on a bed and went around the room gathering up different items. He came back with a large apron that he laid across her shoulders and torso. “This will keep your insides from frying from the radiation. Well- at least it’s proved to in so many of my tests.”

“Wait. You developed this yourself?”

“Oh, bit of a hobby. Did a little of this and that. Nice when it was on the military’s payroll, now I’m working out of my own pocket. Here, stay still.”

“Are you sure this is safe?”

The Doctor rolled his eyes. “No, Rose Tyler, I’m using you as a guinea pig for all my evil medical schemes. Of course it’s safe. Now, keep still!”

Rose leaned back as he set the machine over her ankle. He then placed a similar apron over his own body and clicked a nearby button. “There now, we survived that, eh?” He took the aprons and set them back in a cupboard. “I’ll come back and check it all later. We’ll get you back to your room so I can work.” He picked her back up and walked back to her room.

Rose didn’t expect the man to start opening up to her- she only got him talking in almost civil sentences the day before. She couldn’t keep herself from asking the question, though. “Why are you no longer in the military?”

The Doctor stopped without looking down at her, and then started walking again. He then turned into her room and set her down on the bed. Rose pressed on, despite her better judgment begging for her to leave it be. “You can’t have all of this medical stuff in a castle, for goodness’ sake, and then expect me to not wonder why.”

His eyes were guarded as he finally made eye contact with her.  “I suppose not. I was discharged. I had been working as a medic in Palestine, but was also helping to develop ways to make the machinery more resistant to the harsh weather of the desert. Also was developing ways to shield the patients and doctors from radiation.” He turned, and sat on the bed beside her, his eyes focused on some place far away. “I was demonstrating the use of the x-ray on myself for a board, hoping they would approve the new equipment for field use. Came to find out I had hypertrophic cardiomyopathy.” He laughed sardonically. “Might as well have two hearts, it’s so enlarged. Completely asymptomatic, but they couldn’t kick me out fast enough. Less money to be wasted on equipment too, I suppose. But all of the lives it could have saved…”

Rose reached out to touch him, but brought her hand back. He quickly stood, the impassive look back in place. “I’ll go back and look at the x-ray and see if there’s something I need to set. I’ll send Sarah Jane up with a pack to ice it in the meantime.” He then abruptly left the room. 

Rose spent her first week mainly outside in the gardens. The sun was shining and it was unseasonably warm for late September. She tried to bask up in what little sun would be left before the winter.

Rose helped Luke in the gardens, watched him tinker with his inventions, or played with the rambunctious Scottish terrier they kept, Canine. “The Doctor said that you should call something what it is, and not bother with names for an animal,” Luke explained when she asked about the unimaginative name.

Though she enjoyed her outdoor excursions, Rose sometimes she felt like she was being secretly observed. She would be rolling around on the ground with Canine or exploring one of the many gardens and the hairs would prickle on her neck. She would then turn and find no one there.

The Doctor never made any sort of appearance. Infrequently, however, Rose would hear him bellowing at Sarah Jane- all of which Sarah Jane seemed to take in stride. If I had an employer like that, I’d be out the door so fast it would make his head spin. She had yet to unpack her things- she was always afraid that the Doctor would one day change his mind and throw her out on her ear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The weather did not hold up, unfortunately, and the autumn rains began with a vengeance. Rose helped Sarah Jane in the kitchen for most of the day, but was shooed out after dinner.  Might as well explore inside some more. Didn’t Luke say something about a library? Rose took to the downstairs in search.

After turning down too many wrong corridors, Rose decided to try to return to her room. As she walked down the hallway, she passed by the forbidden stairway. Rose paused, as she could faintly hear a piano being played. Curiosity overrode any reservations she may have had as she began to ascend the stairs.

Cobwebs hung from the ceiling and the unadorned stonewalls let in a draught, which made her unconsciously shiver. The music became recognizable as she drew closer.  Her mother had been given to despondent music whenever she thought of Rose’s father, who had passed away when Rose was small. The slow, flowing tones of Pavane pour une infante défunte brought tears to her eyes. A door ahead of her was ajar, with the music calling to her from within. She crept towards the door and peeked at the available view. The Doctor was seated at a grand piano, his head bowed over the keys. Though his back was turned to her she could still make out his long fingers as they dexterously danced across the ivory. She stayed behind the shadow of the door, and tried to make out the rest of the room. There was a small candelabrum on the piano, outlining the Doctor’s form and casting the rest of the room in a dim light. Furniture was overturned or still covered with sheets. Crumpled papers were strewn about his perimeter.

Rose’s eyes scanned the rest of the room and landed upon a photograph hung on the wall. A beautiful, fair-haired woman was grinning at the photographer. In her arms was a small girl, no older than three or four, with coal black hair and sparkling dark eyes. Is that his wife? His little girl? While she continued to study the photograph, Rose failed to notice that the music had begun to taper off. Suddenly, it stopped and she gasped. The Doctor materialized in front of her, towering over her with eyes blazing.

“What do you think you’re doing? Did I not specifically tell you that you had no business here? No, did I not demand that you not come in the West Wing?”

“I’m…I’m so sorry, sir.”

Rose was frozen in shock as he threw his tumbler across the room and it shattered. “Thought you’d have a little spy on the hermit? See what makes him tick? Come and see the mad Doctor?” The Doctor’s voice suddenly went very low, the smooth tone more frightening than his previous bellowing. “Get out.”

Rose turned and ran through the hallway towards her room. She’d save him the trouble of throwing her out- she’d just leave! Thank goodness I had the foresight to not unpack! With trembling hands she threw on her coat and cap and grabbed her carpetbag. The Stewarts had already turned in for the night, and the only regret she had was that she wouldn’t be able to say goodbye to them.

The rains had picked up, with the wind whipping about her. Great, of course. She began to run towards the road, not stopping to recognize the foolishness of her scheme. Maybe a car will pass, and I can hitch a ride into the nearest town. She ran towards the gate, not even bothering to close it. As she approached the road, she decided to keep running to at least be out of sight of the gate. The mud clung to her heels, and her sopping skirt became more of a hindrance as she continued to push herself.

She knew she would be more noticeable to oncoming drivers on the left side of the road, so she tried to cross. Rose dodged the large puddles, but failed to see a slick part right in front of her. She slid across and landed hard on her side. Rising up on all fours, Rose tried to stand, only to fall back to the muddy road. Her ankle had been completely twisted, possibly broken, and she could no longer stand. Rose tried to pull herself to the side of the road and heard the last sound she wanted to hear. An oncoming automobile. The gold headlights blinded her as she made a futile attempt to pull herself off the road. The car started to swerve as it hydroplaned towards her. Rose grasped desperately at the road when she felt someone lift underneath her arms from behind and pull her off the road. They both landed hard on a bank, and Rose turned to see her rescuer. The Doctor hovered above her, breathing heavily, his fringe dripping about his face.

After several breathless moments, he seemed to come to himself, and pushed up off the ground. Without speaking, he assessed her physical condition, noting the odd angle of her ankle. He lifted it slowly, and Rose took in a sharp breath, her consciousness becoming fuzzy. The pain made itself even more prominent, and Rose fully lost consciousness. The Doctor scooped her up into his arms and began to carry her back to the house.

Luke led Rose down the hallway to another set of stairs towards the back of the castle.

“So, Luke, what do you do around here?”

Luke shuffled a little and then responded. “Oh, a bit of this and that. Mainly, I help Da keep up the animals and tend to our gardens. Tinkering, when I can.” Luke then allowed himself a bit of a proud smile.

Rose grinned back. “So, you like to tinker, eh? Anything in particular you’re working on?”

Luke became more animated. “I’m working on this machine to help Da when he’s chopping the wood. He’s getting a bit on now, and it’s not as easy for him. I try to help as I can, but this would lighten the load. Whenever it’s not blowing a gale, would you like to see?”

Rose couldn’t help but to find the boy’s enthusiasm adorable. “Of course I would.”

Luke took them down a corridor. “Here’s the greenhouse. We haven’t much now, but it’ll be a right jungle come spring.” Rose brushed her fingers along the leaves of a poinsettia. “Those will bloom through Christmas.”

Luke showed Rose the various rooms that were kept under sheets- some locked.

Rose walked into a large room that looked like it had once been a ballroom. The furniture had been pushed to the corners and covered in sheets. The long windows were draped in dark curtains. “Most of these aren’t used, then.”

“No, miss. No real need, as there’s only a few of us ever here.”

“Rose. I can’t be more than a few years older than you, Luke.”

“I’m fifteen.” He stuck his chest out with all the pride of youth.

“Well, I’m nineteen. Not much older, yeah? So none of this ‘miss’ nonsense.”

“Yes, Rose.” Luke chuckled.

Rose walked out into the hallway and spun around. “Is there anything interesting to explore?”

“Down that way is the library.”

Rose brightened. “You all have a library?”

“Oh, yes! More books than you could hope to read in a lifetime! Any subject you could study! We’ll have to go there-“

Rose had come upon a disused staircase with drawn curtains keeping it all in shadow. “What’s up there, then?”

“That’s the back stairwell to the West Wing. No one but the Doctor is allowed up that way.”

Rose walked up and tenuously put a foot on the first step. “I wonder what he’s hiding up there.”

Suddenly, they both could hear the sound of a man yelling- albeit far away.

“Told you…no remembrances!” She could hear Sarah’s soft voice trying to placate. “Don’t want her…no charity…not here!”

A door banged from the other end of the hallway and Sarah came down the left side of the grand staircase. Her eyes narrowed as she saw the two standing at the base of the other stairs.

“Luke!” Sarah Jane whispered heatedly. “What are you doing back here?”

“We were just coming back from the greenhouse, Mum.”

“You know better than to be hanging around here too long.”

“Yes, Mum.” Luke hung his head slightly, while Rose fidgeted.

“Come now, Rose. The Doctor wants to see you.”

Rose tried to keep an incredulous look off her face as she followed the woman back up the stairs and took a quick left before they entered the foreboding West Wing.

Sarah Jane turned quickly to Rose. “Wait right here.”

Rose could only nod.

Sarah opened the door to what looked like a study, lit only by firelight. “Rose is outside the door.”

“Send her in, then go.”

Sarah Jane opened the door a little wider, stepping back into the hallway. She took in Rose’s frightened face before whispering, “He’s mostly bluster- he won’t harm you. Just allow him to speak his piece, then he’ll dismiss you.” She patted Rose’s shoulder, then began descending the stairs.

Rose bit her lip. He’s not the big, bad wolf. He won’t eat you up. She squared her shoulders, and strode into the room trying to convey the confidence she most decidedly was not feeling.

The room was almost completely in the dark, save for the light of the blazing fire to the left. What little Rose could see was in a disarray, papers, books, and even bits of metal strewn about the room.  Rose could see two long legs, clad in brown and blue striped pajama pants stretching from a ratty wingback chair. The wings were blocking the rest of his form.

“Are you just going to stand there?” His voice had a slight Scottish lilt, but she could tell that he had lived the majority of his life in London. Rose broke from her contemplation and approached the chair.

As she rounded the wings, she was finally able to see the rest of the man in profile. The firelight flickered, making his form slightly harder to define. The Doctor was much younger than she had anticipated- he seemed to be in his mid-thirties. He was a very thin man, wrapped in a deep blue dressing gown. He had a shock of what she gauged was sort of brown hair.  Severe cheekbones were covered with a scruff that ran down his neck, and his nose had a slight hook. She could see his dimples deepening as he ground his teeth. What were most captivating were his eyes. They were almost black in the firelight, and aged. His eyes looked like those of a man who had lived a thousand years too long. 

“Had enough of a look?” he asked rudely.

Rose looked away quickly, trying to avoid upsetting the man further.

“They didn’t send us a mute, did they? It would definitely be preferable. A little less idiocy to spread around in this wasteland. What few people who are here cannot be put upon to have the good sense to get out of this forsaken country- I might as well be surrounded by stupid apes. At least I won’t have to worry about any of that from you in light of your predicament.”

Rose couldn’t take his manner any longer. “I’m not mute, nor am I a ‘stupid ape.’”

The Doctor seemed surprised then amused with her reply. “So, she does speak. What’s your name, girl?” He swirled an amber liquid in the tumbler he was holding.

Rose kept her eyes steadily on the floor. “Rose Tyler, sir.”

“Don’t give me that ‘sir’ rubbish. And while I’m at it, don’t give me a salute, either. It’s just the Doctor.”

Rose felt it best to let him lead the conversation completely, and returned to her silence.

“What did you do while you were at home, Rose Tyler?”

“I worked in a little bookshop.”

“Ah, and did you partake in any of the wares? Or were you too busy flirting with the customers?”

Rose’s cheeks reddened and her eyes flashed. “Yes, I read. Have done for quite a few years now, thank you. And it was a respectable job.” She raised her chin in defiance.

The Doctor considered her, and then seemed to decide it was best to not push her any further. “Look, Rose Tyler, the only reason you are under my roof is to soothe Sarah’s need to help strays. Do your best to stay out of my way, and I’ll do likewise. All I demand is that you stay away from the West Wing.”

“I will, sir. Thank you for housing me.”

He scoffed. “Again, that thanks is entirely for Sarah Jane. You can go. You’ll find the door back where you entered.” He then turned back to the fire with an air of dismissal.

A moment passed while Rose gathered what was left of her dignity, and she then left the room as quickly as she could without running. The nerve of that man! I didn’t ask to be left at his doorstep- if I had somewhere else to go, I would! Once she passed the staircases, she began to run towards her room. After she shut and locked her door, she sank to the floor.