Repercussions (11/55)
May. 9th, 2008 04:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amberfocus
Banner by Megz33
Chapter Eleven: Talk to Me
Silence hangs between us for too long and the Doctor, who’s never met a silence he could just let lie, begins to babble and pace. “It wouldn’t be the first time one of my companion’s eyes changed color. I mean it’s hardly original. Leela did it. ‘Course there was an explosion that triggered it. Did you look into that explosion at the cyber factory?”
“Doctor--.”
“It could be as simple as that. Just a reaction to the brightness of the explosion, or maybe there was a change in the way light refracts off objects, I don’t know, but I’m sure it’s easily explainable.”
“Doctor--.”
“But it’s just eye color really, how unimportant is that when you think about it? It doesn’t change anything, doesn’t change who you are or what you--.”
“Doctor!”
He stops talking and turns to look at me, but I can tell he isn’t actually looking at me. He is looking through me. “What?” His voice holds trepidation.
“I don’t think…” I stop, take a deep breath, try again. “What I mean to say is…” Why is this so hard? “You’re not my Doctor.”
And he is off again like a frightened rabbit, hands shoved in his pockets when they aren’t running through his hair. “What do you mean I’m not your Doctor? ‘Course I’m your Doctor. Have been since the day I took your hand and told you to run. Travelled the universe with you, took you places I’ve never taken anyone else, laughed with you and held your hand. Better with two, remember Rose? The stuff of myths and legends? That’s us, you and me, together forever; they’ll never, ever tear us apart.” His voice becomes more and more desperate as he nearly wears a hole in the carpet with his pacing.
I recognize only half of what he is saying as I step into his way, deliberately blocking his path, my hands up to stop him resting against his chest. His hands come up to hold my wrists, but he doesn’t move them away. Instead they cover the backs of my hands. Then he is leaning forward, and as if it is the most natural thing in the world, our lips meet.
Shock races through my body and I can’t help it. I have wanted this for too long. I step into him. I ignore the voice in the back of my head because I simply don’t care. This Doctor, whoever he is, is kissing me. And desperately, I kiss him back.
It is a long, long while before we part. “Tell me I’m not your Doctor,” he says softly.
I feel tears coming into my eyes as I raise them to his. “I wish that you were,” I say. “Because my Doctor didn’t love me. I’m not your Rose.”
“It could be as simple as that. Just a reaction to the brightness of the explosion, or maybe there was a change in the way light refracts off objects, I don’t know, but I’m sure it’s easily explainable.”
“Doctor--.”
“But it’s just eye color really, how unimportant is that when you think about it? It doesn’t change anything, doesn’t change who you are or what you--.”
“Doctor!”
He stops talking and turns to look at me, but I can tell he isn’t actually looking at me. He is looking through me. “What?” His voice holds trepidation.
“I don’t think…” I stop, take a deep breath, try again. “What I mean to say is…” Why is this so hard? “You’re not my Doctor.”
And he is off again like a frightened rabbit, hands shoved in his pockets when they aren’t running through his hair. “What do you mean I’m not your Doctor? ‘Course I’m your Doctor. Have been since the day I took your hand and told you to run. Travelled the universe with you, took you places I’ve never taken anyone else, laughed with you and held your hand. Better with two, remember Rose? The stuff of myths and legends? That’s us, you and me, together forever; they’ll never, ever tear us apart.” His voice becomes more and more desperate as he nearly wears a hole in the carpet with his pacing.
I recognize only half of what he is saying as I step into his way, deliberately blocking his path, my hands up to stop him resting against his chest. His hands come up to hold my wrists, but he doesn’t move them away. Instead they cover the backs of my hands. Then he is leaning forward, and as if it is the most natural thing in the world, our lips meet.
Shock races through my body and I can’t help it. I have wanted this for too long. I step into him. I ignore the voice in the back of my head because I simply don’t care. This Doctor, whoever he is, is kissing me. And desperately, I kiss him back.
It is a long, long while before we part. “Tell me I’m not your Doctor,” he says softly.
I feel tears coming into my eyes as I raise them to his. “I wish that you were,” I say. “Because my Doctor didn’t love me. I’m not your Rose.”
