Rating: Light R
Word count: 938
This story is set straight after "The Parting Of Ways" and, in case it doesn't come through (I wrote this up fairly quickly) it is supposed to be a combination of a dreamscape/psychic connection between The Doctor & Rose. My idea was that Rose retained some of her powers and forged a permanent bond between herself and The Doctor so that they could communicate somewhat telepathically in dreams. Plus, even more impossibly strange than alien worlds, the landscape of the imagination.
Companion of the world.
I am a companion of the world.
"Everything" is perfect,
Because "everything" is itself.
She was spinning. Going nova. Ten billion suns transposed into the body of a woman. The fiery sword of heaven delivering final judgment.
When Rose woke her face was flushed red as though with fever; her skin dry as parchment. Images swam in her mind’s eye. Strange words came back to her like a torrential rain on a devastated waste of drought. There was a white hot pinprick of fire at the base of her sternum that never left her now. When she closed her eyes she could taste ozone. It was a feeling that faded in daylight. In activity. Only in the dead of night. Only alone did it return. Though, she knew, it had never left.
Rose placed a hand over the place. At any other time she felt herself abandoned. Cut off from him. But here. She felt him here with her. Inside.
Where are you? She reached out into the darkness, projecting her words outward, into space. She fingered the fabric of the universe and threw it back like a curtain. Oh yeah, that was a new talent.
There was a faint sliver of light. It glowed golden like a single drop of honey falling endlessly down. It never stopped. It simply shone. An amber jewel. That’s what she thought Heaven was like.
Except she could hold it in the palm of her hand. In her soul. It was a single glistening gem. And It melted on her tongue like maple sugar. Like dew.
And the raging fire within exploded out, cresting into the darkness to meet it’s refrain in a glorious rhapsody of starlight and butterfly kisses and fireflies. Yeah, she breathed, like a thousand thousand fireflies.
He appeared out of the corner of her eye, a leaf dancing over the rings of Saturn, with a grin from ear to ear.
My Doctor, the thought echoed across the vast expanse.
My Rose, he reached out to her an she ran over moonlight to be caught up in his arms.
I never told you. I—I never told you I love you, she smoothed her hands over his face, tears streaming.
You did. You said it a million times with blazing eyes filled with glory. Rose, you said it when you came back, he lowered he forehead to rest it upon her own; she brushed her nose against his pointed one.
I underestimated you. Never happen again, his eyes twinkled. A wellspring of laughter bubbled up like champagne around them. And when they had laughed themselves giddy he kissed her for the second time. She hadn’t been sure he would be solid. Or she. But here he was filling her with his breath. Here he was tangling fingers in her hair and kissing her as though he could never get enough.
It wasn’t but a moment that they fell, sun shining so bright she thought she was blind. Falling so fast she gasped for oxygen. And then—soft. So light. So delicate. They landed upon the petal of a flower—though of what she couldn’t say.
It’s so big, she gasped.
You’re so small, he breathed.
Where are we? she asked.
Caught up in a flash. In a moment.
It’s not long enough, she gripped him to her. Buried her face in the hollow of his shoulder. He kissed her hair.
I know, he said. He cradled her against him. Holding the pulsing energy of life contained within the body of a human girl. Marveling at her ability to call him here. He could feel something more within her now. A spark. A flickering light left over.
He could hear her thoughts tumbling over and over like waves against the shore. Her joy. Her grief. The love that reached out like the wing of a dove toward him.
Oh Rose, he said. He lifted her head to find her eyes. Her face was wet but she smiled at him. A sunshine smile. Her lips found his and she clasped her hands around his face. He thought she tasted of ocean spray. Or the fog that rolls in over London. But somehow still like Rose.
So like Rose. Even as they tumbled down upon the flower’s petal he could hear her.
His lips were at her throat. At her breast. But he could hear her.
She pushed him away. Pushed him down. She slid up. Over him. They barely breathed and then—encompassing him. He gasped as she rose and fell. Her dark eyes held his captive even as her lips molded to his. He let his hand travel down her skin between them as she moved.
I love you, he said. I love you, Rose. I love you.
She was the sun setting over the ocean. The willow reaching down toward deep water. For an instant—for a lifetime. They were a single entity within the cosmos. Above every atmosphere. And below every sea. Her breath caught as he moved with her. And they both cried out at the end.
Their skin sparkled and they both began to fade.
It’s still here, she closed her eyes drawing his hands to place them over the hollow beneath her breast. Inside me.
I know, he held her tightly against him breathing in the secret scent of her hair.
I miss you. She became insubstantial. Like starlight pouring over him.
I never left you. Her lips pressed his in their final farewell and he heard her whisper.