taxonomites | seventeen | location: around taxon | someone who appears to save the day

When the Master is restrained, the Doctor watches over him for a few moments, then goes to his companions, his friends, the people he's come here to save. He wants to follow the Master out of this place, to watch what's happening to him, but he can't. The people in this city have trusted him, he has to trust them, too.

He dashes to Rose's side.

"Rose?" he says, leaning over her. She doesn't look as physically injured as the others, but that probably means far worse has been done to her.

Tears fill her eyes and she struggles to move away from him.

"He's going to hurt you and he'll make me watch. You have to leave." The effort of speaking sets her throat on fire but he needs to know this and get out while he can. It never occurs to her that she can leave too. Not now, not after everything that she's been forced to watch. "I want you to leave."

There's some part of her that doesn't, that's begging him to take her with him but that tiny voice is overwhelmed by the panic that the Master will torture the Doctor the way he has everyone else here. Everyone else but her.

The Doctor looks over his shoulder, then back to Rose.

"It's all right," he says. "He can't hurt you now, Rose. I've got you."

He pulls out the sonic and begins unlocking her bonds. He checks her wrist, then the bruises on her face.

"What did he do?" There's no question as to whether or not he hurt her, just how bad and where.

She goes almost boneless having the restraints removed simply because she's been tied up in one position for so ong. Everything aches but her injuries are minor. She scarcely even remembers receiving them and the weight of her guilt over the knowledge that everyone else's injuries are grievous bows makes her slump her shoulders. She should have been able to help. Her head rests against the Doctor's shoulder and tears trickle down her cheeks. She didn't think she had anything left in her to cry. It takes her a moment to process everything and make it come out in some sort of coherent sentence.

"He hurt everybody. He--they screamed and they cried and I couldn't help. I tried--I begged him to just let them all go. I'd dtay and he--Are they all--" She doesn't dare ask for fear that the answer will be one she can't handle. She doesn't dare to hope either.

He hooks an arm under her knees and his other around her shoulders, lifting her into his arms. She feels small in his arms, and he carries her towards the exit.

That was her torture. The Master would let her see the pain the others had to suffer and let her do nothing about it. It was, unsurprisingly, not unlike what the Doctor suffered during the Year.

"It's all right," he says, holding her close. "I've got you, Rose. You're all right, now."

She curls up against him, almost trying to make herself smaller. It feels safe here and for a moment she allows herself just to feel that.

"Are the others going to be okay?" she's finally able to ask.

"Of course they are," he says, even though he's not entirely sure he's not lying. They'll be all right because they're his friends and he promised himself they'd be all right. The Master will be all right, too, because the Doctor needs him to be all right.

"I'll get you home," he says.

She'll take the lie right now. She has the same sort of faith he does. They'll be okay because they're friends and because the Doctor promised. For better or worse, she doesn't share the same need for the Master to be alright. In a way she does understand the Doctor's though. Or she thinks she does; he doesn't want to be the only one left.

"Already there," she says only half coherently.

He holds her close as he leaves the building with her in his arms. Already home. She won't be there when he sends her away from this place, she'll hold him once and then she'll leave for someone else.

But he can't think about that. All he can think is that the warm woman in his arms is alive and safe. He only wishes he could've saved her what she saw.

"Stay awake," he says. "Stay with me, Rose. I've got you."

She furrows her brow at the Doctor's words. She tries to focus on them, taking longer than she should to answer him. It takes a little while to process something besides screaming and everyone hurting.

"M'right here. Awake."

But She's listing. She just wants to curl up with him and fall into a sleep deep enough that she doesn't hear anyone scream.

"Please," he says. His eyes burn and his hearts are racing, but he's not about to start crying, not here. She's there, but she's so quiet, and he can't tell how bad her pains are. He has to keep moving, get her to the flat, get her safe. He's not even worried about Godric here, not even worried if someone shows up to take him away. He's got to save her.

A tear falls from his eye to her cheek.

At first the moisture hitting her skin confuses her. She reaches up to wipe it off her cheek and she realizes that he's the one crying. She looks up to him, still a bit confused but also grateful. She couldn't save anyone in that warehouse. No matter how much they cried or screamed. She couldn't help. She might can here. Maybe just a little bit and maybe that's enough.

"Chips," she says seemingly out of no where. "I want chips." A pause to swallow hard, brain still not processing or functioning entirely but she's trying for his sake; trying to save him just a little. "And a hot bath. You could take one with me. Eat chips in the bath."

Still a little quiet and she still hurts all over but she's alive, he's here and he's given her a chance to help him. That's enough.

"Yeah, definitely," he says. "Prophylactic this time. Might be a bit difficult in the bathtub, but we'll make it work."

The teasing is necessary, and he manages to smile a little despite his unbidden tears.

"I'm so sorry," he says, choking on emotion.

She laughs a little at that and it hurts but she doesn't care. Even through the pain it feels good to laugh. "We're both flexible," she responds because the teasing is so necessary. She doesn't miss the smile either and that goes a long way toward making this better.

At his apology she shakes her head, reaching up to press her fingers against his lips. "No." She won't tell him this isn't his fault. She won't tell him it's okay. None of those things are true and she tries to avoid lying to him of all people. "You don't have to apologize to me." That part is true.

And time for more teasing.

"You can make it up to me in foot rubs, back rubs and bathtub sex."

In another time, he might be awkward talking about bathtub sex. Right now, he just cares about taking care of Rose. Making it better because right now it hurts. It hurts and it's his fault even if she doesn't know it.

He turns a corner and crosses towards the street with their flat on it. He's not sure when he's started thinking of this place as 'home', but she's there. She's there and it's a place she can be safe. The settee is still outside, the leather unaffected by any recent rain.

"I won't leave you again," he promises.

She nods at his promise, tears filling her eyes. She finally got what she wanted but at what price? She can't be grateful for it, not after everything she's seen and hear the last several hours. She swallows past the lump in her throat and hangs on a little tighter.

"I was on my way home from working at Tara's shop."

It's meant to tell him that he can't be there with her every minute.

He can't be there every moment. Maybe he should run. Maybe he should've died when he fell on the Master's sword. Maybe it would be better that way. He can't hurt her if he's dead. She can't become a hostage if he's gone.

He pushes open the door to the flat and starts carefully up the stairs towards her room.

He feels something tug at him, somewhere in his mind. Something telling him to go into the other room. He doesn't, though. He's not leaving her now.

"Did he feed you? Do you want some tea?"

She would silence all those thoughts if she could. She would tell him that these things happen. Even to people without the Doctor in their lives. Those people just don't get saved.

She shakes her head at his question. Or the first part of his question. "Tea would be good. i think. Yeah, tea." Once she's gotten a little settled they can talk food and baths. With or without the sex. She just wants to be near him right now because where he's at it's safe. Or at least the dangerous bits don't matter.

He steps into her room. The room's been fairly torn apart by himself in search of some clue as to where she is, though he hopes she doesn't notice that. He lays her down on the bed carefully, smoothing her hair as he places her head against the pillow.

"I'll be right back," he says. "White with sugar, right? I can never remember."

Right now she's too glad to be home and too tired to notice the mess. Besides, she's never been the neatest person ever. She'll straighten it later. She bites her bottom lip, feeling a bit like a little girl and nods, a smile just at the corner of her lips because he remembered.

"Just like that," she tells him. "I'll be here."

He stands and heads to the door. He starts towards the stairs when he hesitates. He looks to the closed door of what used to be his room. He gets that feeling again, that overwhelming feeling that he should go in there. He doesn't, though. He heads downstairs and makes a quick pot of tea.

He's done so much wrong. He's hurt her too much. Doesn't she see that?

He takes the pot and two cups and heads back upstairs. The door to what was his bedroom is slightly ajar, but he doesn't see that. He goes right to Rose's room.

"I brought some biscuits, too."

While he's down stairs, Rose decides she can't be in her clothes another minute. Standing up makes her woozy so she sits on the edge of the bed as she strips off everything. By the time the Doctor gets back she's found an oversized tee shirt she sleeps in crumpled up and shoved under her pillow. She's just got it pulled over her head when he walks back in.

"Biscuits are good." She sticks one foot out, shoving the clothes she had been wearing further away from the bed as if she can't stand the sight of them. It's more the smell. Although she's aware most of that is probably in her head.

"Sit with me?"

"Course I will," he says, because he wouldn't deny her at a time like this. He pushes her clothes to the floor and sits where they were, putting the tray with the tea next to him.

"Promised you a bath, too," he says.

"Yeah," she nods as she leans against him. "I think a bath'd be good. I don't-haven't had one in a--how long was it? Coupla days maybe? Feels sticky." She just wants the dirt of that event washed off. She wants the smell of the warehouse and such gone.

"Tea first," he instructs, picking up the cup and handing it to her. "Doesn't matter how long you were gone. Fact is, you're back. And that's what's important."

He wraps his arm around her shoulder and closes his eyes, just feeling her there and safe. He'll need to check on Donna and Tara and Morgana and Fitz soon, and he will. But right now, he's taking care of her.

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler

Re: Rescuing the Victims--Rose Tyler