It Lies Unwritten (3/5)
Jan. 31st, 2012 09:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amberfocusTitle: It Lies Unwritten (3/5)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
amberfocus
Characters/Pairings: The Doctor/Rose Tyler
Genre: Romance, Mystery, Angst
Betas:amyo67, thetesh
Rating: Teen
Summary: In a tiny village on the edge of nowhere, a man who can't remember his own name tries to hold on to reality, but reality has other ideas. Only one thing remains constant; the woman in the blue jumper.
A/N: Yeah, it's just weird.
Ch.1 Ch.2
Chapter Three
“Please! Please, you’ve got to come back!” It’s her voice, the woman in the blue jumper’s, Rose. It’s the first thing he hears as the buzzing fades to nothing. He feels a violent pain in his chest as he tries to follow that voice back to awareness. “I’m not losing you!” She sounds almost angry and he feels her tugging on the back of his shirt. “Wake up!” she commands.
He opens his eyes and everything spins dizzily out of control. He wants to be sick and has to swallow hard several times. His hands are gripping something rough, and he’s leaning over it. It’s hard and it must be causing the pain in his chest. When his eyes manage to focus he has to close them. The ground is so far away it might as well not be there. He gulps in fresh air and tries to calm his heartbeat. It feels so wrong, that heartbeat, and he just cannot get it under control.
Another spasm rips through him, but the tugging finally works and Rose manages to pull him backwards until he falls onto the…floor? Whatever it is, it’s made of wicker. “You can’t do this to me. Don’t you dare do this to me!” She’s very worked up and when he can finally open his eyes again, he sees tears in hers, though they remain unshed.
He looks beyond her and tries to make sense of what he’s seeing, blinking hard again and again. It’s like being inside a giant rainbow, the vivid colors splashing almost angrily against his vision, rioting in his brain. For a moment he can’t move and he just lies there taking in painful breaths.
Rose sinks to her knees beside him, her hand grasping his so tightly he’s almost afraid she’ll break his fingers, but he doesn’t want her to let go. Somehow, some way, the blonde is anchoring him. He stares at her face, so familiar to him now, almost like they’ve known each other forever. The agony recedes and his respiration begins to normalize.
A soft roar draws his attention and he finally puts two and two together as he sees the open flame. “We’re in a hot air balloon?” he asks.
Rose nods. “It was supposed to be the perfect summer outing, but then you…” She trails off, looks away, and swallows hard. “You almost fell to your death.” Her face is very white, the blood drained from it.
“You were worried about me.”
“Of course I was, you idiot!” She sounds indignant.
“No need for the name-calling,” he tells her.
She makes a sigh of exasperation and lets go of his hand. He feels bereft as she struggles to her feet. She does something to adjust the flame and the balloon jerks. He sits up.
“What happened?” he asks.
She gives him a look that speaks volumes, but says nothing. His foot brushes against something hard and it makes a clunking noise. “Be careful,” she says. He glances down at his feet and sees his laptop.
“I brought my computer on a balloon ride?” he asks in confusion.
“You were stuck on chapter ten. You thought maybe a new perspective would help. Apparently your main male character has taken a turn for the emotionally neurotic.” Her voice is a little tart and he can’t help but feel her tone is more pointed than he deserves.
“Why?”
“He thinks he’s lost the girl,” she says.
“Oh.” He pauses. “Has he?”
“It’s your story,” she tells him. “You have to make that determination. Whether or not he’s going to fight to get back to her, or let it all rest on her shoulders.”
“What’s your opinion?” he asks.
The look she gives him is piercing. “I think he gave up a little too easily and it’s going to cause complications later on.”
He feels a weird surge of guilt and changes the subject. “Where’d we get a balloon?” he asks.
“Where does anyone get a balloon?” Rose responds. She glances down at the ground and makes another minor adjustment. She shivers a little and pulls her sleeves down her arms until her fingers disappear into the too long, blue jumper.
He stares at her as she fidgets and wonders why she almost never answers a direct question properly. He thinks it’s probably because he should already know the answers, because he should already know her, or remember her anyway.
“Rose, what’s wrong with me?” he asks, the words tumbling so fast out of his mouth he almost trips over them.
She laughs. “Are you looking for a list of your faults?”
“No.”
“Then you probably shouldn’t ask that question.” She sits back down. Her hand finds his again. “I think I spent too much time thinking you were perfect.”
“No one’s perfect.”
“No one is.” She looks melancholy for a moment, but then pushes it away and she treats him to a dazzling smile. “Wouldn’t life be boring if we were?”
He is overwhelmed with a sudden urge to kiss her. His lips tingle at the thought of it and he licks them. They feel cold to him and hers look so very warm. He wonders if he’s kissed her before and forgotten it. He wonders if he hasn’t, if she’d like it.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks him when the silence drags on too long.
His eyes fall to her mouth and then he meets her gaze. “Kissing you,” he admits. A soft blush pinks her cheeks. “Is that all right?” he asks.
“Of course it is,” she tells him. He can almost see her mental eye roll, like he’s asked her a stupid question.
He leans towards her in that slow hesitant way of a first kiss. His eyes dart from her lips to her eyes again and again, afraid she might change her mind, but he keeps leaning forward. Then her hand is on the back of his neck and she impatiently closes the gap. His mouth hits hers and their noses bump, but then they’re kissing and any awkwardness in arriving at this moment simply fades away.
She kisses him as if she’s spent a lifetime kissing him. It’s soft and sweet, unrushed, despite her impatience to get it started. She seems to know him intimately, know what he likes, what he wants. Her tongue glides along his lips and he opens his mouth to her gentle invitation. She tastes like cinnamon and hot chocolate and her teeth are sharp as he swipes across them.
He finds his fingers have taken big handfuls at the waist of her blue jumper and pulled her closer to him. He doesn’t remember having done that, only that she is now pressed against him and they’ve somehow fallen into a supine position.
She kisses him until he thinks he’ll never be the same man again and then finally, reluctantly, breaks it. “I have to check on our altitude,” she says. “Wouldn’t want to crash into a mountain.” She scrambles to her feet, leaving him flushed and breathing heavily in the bottom of the basket.
Rose adjusts the flame again and the balloon suddenly rises higher. She looks beautiful as the wind blows her hair out into a tangled mess. The sun is just behind her and it lights her up with an aura of gold. It’s not the first time he’s thought she was an angel.
“Come and see,” Rose says, holding her hand out to him. He takes it and rises. This time when he looks out at the view he isn’t unsettled. Seeing it with her holding onto him makes it different. She steadies him. Maybe she always has.
“It’s beautiful,” he says. The word isn’t enough to describe the majesty of the mountain range with its snowcapped peaks of frosted white and the deep purple royalty of the rocks.
“Does it help?” Rose asks him. Her hand has crept around his waist without his noticing, her hip pressing into his thigh as she leans her head against his shoulder. He puts his arms around her and she sighs.
“Does what help?”
“Taking a vacation from life. Getting away from it all,” she says.
“Don’t think I want a vacation from life when I’ve got you in it,” he says softly.
She doesn’t answer him, but snuggles closer.
“You need to give them hope,” she says several minutes later.
“What? Who hope?”
She laughs at his grammar. “The hero. The heroine. They need to know that love endures. That it conquers all.”
“But that’s not real life.”
“No, it’s a romance novel. Which is what you’re writing.”
“Maybe that’s not the romance I want to focus on,” he says bravely.
“This isn’t real,” she tells him.
“Why not?” He can’t keep the hurt from his voice.
She sighs and moves away from him. “It’s time to return to solid ground. We can’t keep dancing up here in the clouds.”
“Why not?” he repeats.
“You have to write chapter eleven,” she tells him.
“Forget the book. Screw the book!” He’s angry and frustrated. “I thought you wanted me. That kiss. Didn’t it mean anything to you?” His heart is racing painfully in his chest.
Her eyes are sad, wistful, and there is so much hurt in them. “I’ve spent so much time waiting.”
“And me? Why are you wasting your time with me?” he asks.
“It isn’t wasted,” she says. “It’s necessary.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m not sure you can yet.”
“Rose, please.”
“Do you even know your own name?” she asks. “Do you even remember who you are?”
He stumbles back. “What do you know?” he demands. His racing pulse becomes erratic and he feels pressure building in his head. It hurts.
“I know everything.”
A fist squeezes his heart and he tries to pant out words. “Who am I?” he asks, forcing the words out one by one. He tries to take in a deep breath, but suddenly he can’t. Dizziness overwhelms him.
The last thing he hears before the world goes dark again is her crying out. “Doctor? Doctor!” He knows no more.
Ch. 4: http://amberfocus.livejournal.com/513025.html
Author:
amberfocusCharacters/Pairings: The Doctor/Rose Tyler
Genre: Romance, Mystery, Angst
Betas:
amyo67, theteshRating: Teen
Summary: In a tiny village on the edge of nowhere, a man who can't remember his own name tries to hold on to reality, but reality has other ideas. Only one thing remains constant; the woman in the blue jumper.
A/N: Yeah, it's just weird.
Ch.1 Ch.2
“Please! Please, you’ve got to come back!” It’s her voice, the woman in the blue jumper’s, Rose. It’s the first thing he hears as the buzzing fades to nothing. He feels a violent pain in his chest as he tries to follow that voice back to awareness. “I’m not losing you!” She sounds almost angry and he feels her tugging on the back of his shirt. “Wake up!” she commands.
He opens his eyes and everything spins dizzily out of control. He wants to be sick and has to swallow hard several times. His hands are gripping something rough, and he’s leaning over it. It’s hard and it must be causing the pain in his chest. When his eyes manage to focus he has to close them. The ground is so far away it might as well not be there. He gulps in fresh air and tries to calm his heartbeat. It feels so wrong, that heartbeat, and he just cannot get it under control.
Another spasm rips through him, but the tugging finally works and Rose manages to pull him backwards until he falls onto the…floor? Whatever it is, it’s made of wicker. “You can’t do this to me. Don’t you dare do this to me!” She’s very worked up and when he can finally open his eyes again, he sees tears in hers, though they remain unshed.
He looks beyond her and tries to make sense of what he’s seeing, blinking hard again and again. It’s like being inside a giant rainbow, the vivid colors splashing almost angrily against his vision, rioting in his brain. For a moment he can’t move and he just lies there taking in painful breaths.
Rose sinks to her knees beside him, her hand grasping his so tightly he’s almost afraid she’ll break his fingers, but he doesn’t want her to let go. Somehow, some way, the blonde is anchoring him. He stares at her face, so familiar to him now, almost like they’ve known each other forever. The agony recedes and his respiration begins to normalize.
A soft roar draws his attention and he finally puts two and two together as he sees the open flame. “We’re in a hot air balloon?” he asks.
Rose nods. “It was supposed to be the perfect summer outing, but then you…” She trails off, looks away, and swallows hard. “You almost fell to your death.” Her face is very white, the blood drained from it.
“You were worried about me.”
“Of course I was, you idiot!” She sounds indignant.
“No need for the name-calling,” he tells her.
She makes a sigh of exasperation and lets go of his hand. He feels bereft as she struggles to her feet. She does something to adjust the flame and the balloon jerks. He sits up.
“What happened?” he asks.
She gives him a look that speaks volumes, but says nothing. His foot brushes against something hard and it makes a clunking noise. “Be careful,” she says. He glances down at his feet and sees his laptop.
“I brought my computer on a balloon ride?” he asks in confusion.
“You were stuck on chapter ten. You thought maybe a new perspective would help. Apparently your main male character has taken a turn for the emotionally neurotic.” Her voice is a little tart and he can’t help but feel her tone is more pointed than he deserves.
“Why?”
“He thinks he’s lost the girl,” she says.
“Oh.” He pauses. “Has he?”
“It’s your story,” she tells him. “You have to make that determination. Whether or not he’s going to fight to get back to her, or let it all rest on her shoulders.”
“What’s your opinion?” he asks.
The look she gives him is piercing. “I think he gave up a little too easily and it’s going to cause complications later on.”
He feels a weird surge of guilt and changes the subject. “Where’d we get a balloon?” he asks.
“Where does anyone get a balloon?” Rose responds. She glances down at the ground and makes another minor adjustment. She shivers a little and pulls her sleeves down her arms until her fingers disappear into the too long, blue jumper.
He stares at her as she fidgets and wonders why she almost never answers a direct question properly. He thinks it’s probably because he should already know the answers, because he should already know her, or remember her anyway.
“Rose, what’s wrong with me?” he asks, the words tumbling so fast out of his mouth he almost trips over them.
She laughs. “Are you looking for a list of your faults?”
“No.”
“Then you probably shouldn’t ask that question.” She sits back down. Her hand finds his again. “I think I spent too much time thinking you were perfect.”
“No one’s perfect.”
“No one is.” She looks melancholy for a moment, but then pushes it away and she treats him to a dazzling smile. “Wouldn’t life be boring if we were?”
He is overwhelmed with a sudden urge to kiss her. His lips tingle at the thought of it and he licks them. They feel cold to him and hers look so very warm. He wonders if he’s kissed her before and forgotten it. He wonders if he hasn’t, if she’d like it.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks him when the silence drags on too long.
His eyes fall to her mouth and then he meets her gaze. “Kissing you,” he admits. A soft blush pinks her cheeks. “Is that all right?” he asks.
“Of course it is,” she tells him. He can almost see her mental eye roll, like he’s asked her a stupid question.
He leans towards her in that slow hesitant way of a first kiss. His eyes dart from her lips to her eyes again and again, afraid she might change her mind, but he keeps leaning forward. Then her hand is on the back of his neck and she impatiently closes the gap. His mouth hits hers and their noses bump, but then they’re kissing and any awkwardness in arriving at this moment simply fades away.
She kisses him as if she’s spent a lifetime kissing him. It’s soft and sweet, unrushed, despite her impatience to get it started. She seems to know him intimately, know what he likes, what he wants. Her tongue glides along his lips and he opens his mouth to her gentle invitation. She tastes like cinnamon and hot chocolate and her teeth are sharp as he swipes across them.
He finds his fingers have taken big handfuls at the waist of her blue jumper and pulled her closer to him. He doesn’t remember having done that, only that she is now pressed against him and they’ve somehow fallen into a supine position.
She kisses him until he thinks he’ll never be the same man again and then finally, reluctantly, breaks it. “I have to check on our altitude,” she says. “Wouldn’t want to crash into a mountain.” She scrambles to her feet, leaving him flushed and breathing heavily in the bottom of the basket.
Rose adjusts the flame again and the balloon suddenly rises higher. She looks beautiful as the wind blows her hair out into a tangled mess. The sun is just behind her and it lights her up with an aura of gold. It’s not the first time he’s thought she was an angel.
“Come and see,” Rose says, holding her hand out to him. He takes it and rises. This time when he looks out at the view he isn’t unsettled. Seeing it with her holding onto him makes it different. She steadies him. Maybe she always has.
“It’s beautiful,” he says. The word isn’t enough to describe the majesty of the mountain range with its snowcapped peaks of frosted white and the deep purple royalty of the rocks.
“Does it help?” Rose asks him. Her hand has crept around his waist without his noticing, her hip pressing into his thigh as she leans her head against his shoulder. He puts his arms around her and she sighs.
“Does what help?”
“Taking a vacation from life. Getting away from it all,” she says.
“Don’t think I want a vacation from life when I’ve got you in it,” he says softly.
She doesn’t answer him, but snuggles closer.
“You need to give them hope,” she says several minutes later.
“What? Who hope?”
She laughs at his grammar. “The hero. The heroine. They need to know that love endures. That it conquers all.”
“But that’s not real life.”
“No, it’s a romance novel. Which is what you’re writing.”
“Maybe that’s not the romance I want to focus on,” he says bravely.
“This isn’t real,” she tells him.
“Why not?” He can’t keep the hurt from his voice.
She sighs and moves away from him. “It’s time to return to solid ground. We can’t keep dancing up here in the clouds.”
“Why not?” he repeats.
“You have to write chapter eleven,” she tells him.
“Forget the book. Screw the book!” He’s angry and frustrated. “I thought you wanted me. That kiss. Didn’t it mean anything to you?” His heart is racing painfully in his chest.
Her eyes are sad, wistful, and there is so much hurt in them. “I’ve spent so much time waiting.”
“And me? Why are you wasting your time with me?” he asks.
“It isn’t wasted,” she says. “It’s necessary.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m not sure you can yet.”
“Rose, please.”
“Do you even know your own name?” she asks. “Do you even remember who you are?”
He stumbles back. “What do you know?” he demands. His racing pulse becomes erratic and he feels pressure building in his head. It hurts.
“I know everything.”
A fist squeezes his heart and he tries to pant out words. “Who am I?” he asks, forcing the words out one by one. He tries to take in a deep breath, but suddenly he can’t. Dizziness overwhelms him.
The last thing he hears before the world goes dark again is her crying out. “Doctor? Doctor!” He knows no more.
Ch. 4: http://amberfocus.livejournal.com/513025.html
