#this is something he does realize by the end of ch 100 (ideally) but instead of detaching himself from nezuko and focusing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tenscupcake · 7 years

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electrostatic potential (30/?)

ten/rose. adult this ch. another one down guys! more notes on ao3. thanks a million to amber for the literal HOURS of her time she dedicated to helping me with this and making it better. summary: as the doctor and rose traverse time and space looking for adventure, they slowly fall victim to a mysterious energy that can manipulate their emotions. though confused and unnerved by the cerebral affliction, neither of them understands its cause, or realizes that it could jeopardize their friendship. what will it take for them to discover the truth? this chapter on ao3 | back to chapter 1 on ao3

The Doctor is quite familiar with the concept of adaptation. Living creatures adapt to their environments, even when surrounded by distressing stimuli. Desert dwellers learn to survive sweltering summer days; the metabolic rate of most species slows in response to a scarcity of food; a person with chronic disability learns to live with it.

So, too, the Doctor has learned to live with the unrelenting threat of mortality.

Until this moment, he hadn’t realized that all his previous memories with Rose were tinged with dread. Even in the most enjoyable, intimate moments, the burden of certainty that she was a temporary presence in his life tormented him. That persistent, unsettling feeling in his gut that he’s making a mistake. The incessant whispers from the dark depths of his mind, warning him that he’ll suffer for succumbing to something as human as romance.

This burden has been so constant in his life, he hadn’t realized how heavy it had become. The double-edged sword of adaptation: it facilitates survival, but over time it can cause one to forget what it’s like not to need it. Forget there’s a better way to live.

Only now that it’s been lifted does the Doctor finally realize what he’s been missing. For the first time, he’s able to pour all of himself into a kiss and savor each moment just because it’s wonderful, not because he doesn’t know when it will be his last. Not because he’s trying to engrave the memory of her lips in his mind to sustain him once she’s gone and he’s forced to carry on. He’s never known what it feels like to experience a touch from her without wondering in the back of his mind how much longer it will last.

He doesn’t even attempt to hide any of these revelations from Rose, too inflated with the sense of relief to do anything but trust her with all of them.

With her legs wrapped around him the way they are, her soft moans and the way their minds are intertwining so easily, the Doctor can’t help imagining what it’d be like to shag right here on this exam table. Why bother moving? He has every capability of keeping her artificially comfortable despite the less-than-ideal cushioning.

Now that the potential threat to her life has vanished, the adrenaline rush from mere minutes earlier suddenly finds a new outlet. Rose’s enthusiasm for his idea quickly manifests as intense arousal that winds its way into his mind. Potent as ever, it seeps into his bloodstream, circulates through his system until he’s flushed and dizzy from it.

He still finds it unfair that she knows how to get him hot and bothered and helpless in a matter of seconds now. Especially now, when she is not nearly as affected. Obviously turned on, yes, but her focus is not nearly as singular as his. Other subjects are competing for attention in her mind. Questions about the nature of her new existence are interrupting her fantasies, and the curiosity starts to put a damper on her passion.

The Doctor gently and wordlessly tries to convince her to let the questions wait until after, letting his hand wander under her shirt, tempting her with promises of things he’ll do to her, but it doesn’t have as much effect as it normally does. Instead, he starts to wonder about the answers to some of her questions, too. It becomes rather distracting, and not at all conducive to setting a sensual mood.

He supposes there will be plenty of time for shagging later. Centuries of it, if they’re lucky.

Still, she has to shove his chest with a fair amount of force to break their kiss.

“Will I still have to sleep like a human?” she pants out. He huffs out a chuckle against her cheek at her first choice of question.

“I imagine so.” He nods gently. He takes a moment to dampen their connection. It’ll be easier on her to be able to formulate her questions properly before she asks them, and easier for him to focus without the overload of hormones. “Like I said, you’re still 100% human. Just… enhanced. So I think your brain will function basically the same, including the need for a nightly recharge.”

She’s quiet for a moment, and without thinking he lowers his mouth to her neck, still inebriated from the effects of her aroused mind. The hand beneath her shirt climbs a bit higher, grazing her breast. She sighs and clutches a fistful of his hair, but the distraction is short-lived.

“Will I still get sick?” she asks, tugging back on his head.

He pulls back again somewhat reluctantly.

“You’re still susceptible to human diseases, if that’s what you mean. But you’re not likely to contract much while you’re traveling with me. You’re always up to date on immunizations.”

“Will I have to do anything differently?”

He can hardly hear her thoughts anymore, but it almost sounds like she’s disappointed. Like she wants a reason to separate herself from humanity, for some tangible proof that she’s different from the rest now.

“Like what?” he asks, puzzled.

“I dunno.” She shrugs.

“I don’t think you have to change a thing. You’re just gonna age a lot slower.” He hopes this affirmation will reassure her that she is different, but it does the opposite. She frowns a little, cogs visibly turning in her mind.

“Can I regenerate?”

This question is sufficient to completely snap him out of the aroused haze she so easily put him in. He pulls back a bit more, taking his hand out from beneath her shirt. Placing his hands on the table on either side of her, he hums and gives it a moment of thought.

“I don’t think so.”

There’s a moment of silence as her forehead scrunches up.

“Why d’you look unsure about that?”

He exhales slowly. Damn, she can read him even better than she used to.

“You can’t regenerate,” he clarifies. “But… something similar is technically possible.”

“What? Seriously? What’s similar to regeneration?” She sounds more surprised than he would have thought. And a little frightened.

“I never told you this but…” He reaches behind his head, pulling on the collar of his shirt. He didn’t tell her about this for a reason, and doesn’t know if it’s a good idea to spill the beans now.

“What?” she pressures him.

He sighs again, dropping his arm.

“Jack Harkness is basically immortal.”

“What!?” she spits out, bringing her hands up to her head in disbelief.

“He died. You brought him back. Well, Bad Wolf did. I sensed it as soon as he was created. He was a fixed point in time. He can’t regenerate, exactly, but… he can’t die. Even if he’s killed, he’ll come right back. It’s why I ran away from him.”

“Doctor, how could you do that? He probably needs us! What kind of curse is that, living forever surrounded by a bunch of mortals?”

Biting his tongue, he gives her a pointed look.

“Right.” She catches her mistake and softens her harsh tone. “Sorry. But not anymore, right? I mean, I’m not totally mortal anymore.”

He brushes both past the accusation and her apology.

“I think his immortality was an accident. You couldn’t control the power you held, and when it was unleashed on him, it completely hijacked his biology. But this is different. I’m not sensing you’re a fixed point the way he is. Something is preserving your life, not eternalizing it.”

“So what does that mean?”

“Well, I don’t think you’d pop back up if you…” He leaves the end of the sentence hanging, for fear of completely ruining the nice mood they’d built up.

“So, still gotta be careful, then?”

He half-grins at her attempt to lighten the mood, but doesn’t answer. He can already feel himself deflating from the inside now that they’ve inadvertently brought up death again. He can’t let that happen. He simply can’t. Especially not now.

It was barely a few minutes that lasted, his naïve bubble of imagining Rose was safe from death now. His – their – lifestyle is dangerous, full stop. He’s living proof of that: exactly zero of his nine deaths have been due to old age.

“But I mean, if I’m not murdered or anythin’, will I just live forever?” she asks, and he’s relieved to keep talking. Talking keeps his brain at least partially occupied.

“Not forever. I can’t even live forever. I’m not literally immortal. But compared to a human lifespan, it’s just easier to think of myself that way, sometimes. And it’s like I said, I can usually sense that kind of permanence.”

“So, how long then? I mean, am I gonna outlive you?”

So many morbid questions. Can’t they go back to being carefree and snogging? He realizes how sentimental and hormonal she making him lately, and how ridiculous it is to think such a thing at a time like this. But he felt a lot better about their prospects a few minutes ago. Is simply celebrating the moment too much to ask?

But it’s selfish to deny her answers. This is her life, her mortality they’re talking about. She deserves to know, and on her own terms.

He considers what happened, that Bad Wolf’s power was essentially drawn directly from the heart of the TARDIS.

“I think your mortality is probably connected with the TARDIS’,” he answers slowly.

Rose considers that for a moment, biting the inside of her cheek.

“An’ how long does she live?”

The Doctor rarely entertains such questions, but he does know the answer to this one. His and the TARDIS’ connection is uniquely powerful. He knows that whenever he passes on for good, the TARDIS won’t survive much longer. He’s the only one who can operate her, keep her healthy, and their lives are intertwined. If he were ever separated from the TARDIS, it would crush him, but if she were ever separated from him, it would kill her.

“Her life is connected to mine. We’ve been together so long, if I died, she would too. Fairly quickly. So, in essence…”

“Mine’s connected to yours, too.”

He nods bleakly in affirmation.

“What’s that look for? Isn’t that a good thing? It’s perfect.”

He sighs.

“It’s just like you said, Rose. Immortality, even quasi-immortality, is a curse. I never wanted to lose you, but I also never wanted to bring something like that down on you.”

“But you didn’t. I did. It was me, making the decisions when I was Bad Wolf. I must have decided this, way back then, even if I couldn’t remember.”

“I suppose so.”

“I did promise I’d never leave you. This is the only way I can keep my promise.”

His hearts swell despite the guilt.

“But I can’t regenerate.” It’s not a question, but he responds anyway.

“You won’t need to.” He’s resolute. “I’ll protect you, no matter what.”

“But what if…”

“Don’t,” he bites back, fury bubbling up inside him. “I will. The same way I have up until this point. If something is that dangerous, I’ll go alone.”

She doesn’t bring up the times he couldn’t save her, and he’s glad for it. He won’t make such a mistake again. There’s no way any Dalek scum is going to take her from him now. He won’t allow it.

But Rose also doesn’t try to fight him on his insistence he’ll take some missions alone, which is glaringly out of character. He knows she won’t be likely to take a decision like that lying down, she never has. She must not think he means it.

“I’m serious, Rose.” His fists clench with his jaw.

“You’re not gonna ditch me anymore.” She crosses her arms, just as resolved as he is. Apparently, she was just humoring him by staying quiet, never planned to let him go through with such a thing. “I thought we established that.”

“You can’t regenerate, Rose!” he lashes out, nearly shouting despite being so close. “Isn’t risking your life selfish to the people who love you?”

Oops.

He takes a step back, mortified.

Rose gasps softly, and he stifles down one of his own.

Swallowing hard, he backpedals as fast as he can.

“Your mother?” he manages to choke out. “Your friends?” Hearts in his throat, he gulps down another breath and stares at her, waiting to see if she’ll let his slip-up slide for the millionth time or if she’ll finally call him on it.

She does look undeniably disappointed, but miraculously, she lets it drop.

“It’s not about me bein’ selfish, though. It’s just about doing what’s right. You of all people should know that. Aren’t you doin’ the same, after all, risking your life even though you’ve got loads of people who care about you?”

“I can regenerate,” he insists. But knowing that fact doesn’t make much difference to her, he knows that. So he changes course quickly. “Just, don’t go throwing yourself in front of bullets. Please. I can’t lose you. Especially not now.” He can hear how desperate he sounds, but right now he doesn’t care.

She’s quiet, waiting for him to say more.

He closes the distance he put between them, and takes both her hands in his. Stares down at them, trying to keep his voice steady as he says his next piece.

“I once told you you could spend the rest of your life with me, but I couldn’t spend the rest of mine with you.”

“I remember.”

“I meant that. Because I really never thought it’d be possible. And… I just don’t want to squander this one chance I’ve got. You’re it. You’re the only one. I mean, you were… before, but… now…” He closes his eyes with a grimace, cringing at the words coming out of his mouth. All this hope is properly bad for his eloquence. And his dignity.

It’s a good thing Rose is the no-nonsense type. This would be so much worse if they had to play traditional human courtship games; if he had to play it cool now so he wouldn’t seem desperate, like losing her wouldn’t totally destroy him.

“I know.” She’s somber. “It’s not exactly easy for me, either, though, you know. When you go changin’ everything about yourself.”

Oh.

His hands fall away from hers.

“You mean… That is, if I… you’ll stay with me if I change again, though, won’t you?”

Panic suddenly bubbles up in his chest. It was exceptionally hard on her last time. He was born arse over elbow for her; if she had snogged him the very moment the regenerative fires subsided he would not have protested. But it took her days to accept that he was the same man. Weeks to stop acting like he was a stranger when they were alone. Months before she had the regained the level of trust and fondness in her eyes when she looked at him.

Is she unwilling to put herself through that again?

“Of course I’ll stay.” She wraps her hands around his back and tugs him closer. But she looks down at his shirt, as though she’s still withholding half the truth.

“I’ll be the same man, up here.” He tries to reassure her. She looks up, and he taps his temple.

“You’re right. Just not easy to get used to, y’know.”

“I know. And honestly, Rose, I do my best not to die. It’s a defining character trait of mine, believe it or not. But, it’s sort of…” He hates that he’s thinking it, and doesn’t want to bring it up at all, but he knows it will come out soon anyway. Whether because Rose considers it herself, or he accidentally leaks it while they’re connected, it’s bound to come out. “Inevitable that we will have to even the odds at some point. I do have two regenerations left.”

Rose’s face falls substantially at this idea, and he wants to kick himself for it.

A couple of things cross his mind, though. First, the deal he made with himself a few days ago: if need be, he can cancel his remaining regenerations. Second, the fact that he knows damn well why this is his youngest-looking incarnation yet. Without much deliberation, he decides to go with the second point to try to lift her spirits.

“But, you should know…”

“What?” She perks up at the potential.

“Well, when I changed last time, I did it for you. I turned out like this,” he from his head to his toes “because my subconscious thought it was what you wanted.”

“Did you get struck by lightning too?” she asks, scrunching up her face like she doesn’t believe him. “You’re sounding loopy.”

“No! I’m just saying that… it isn’t purely a lottery, though I like to pretend it is sometimes. I can’t really come out with two heads, or no head.”

“Great time to have a lark, when I’m watchin’ you die.” Her sarcasm is made more evident by her glare.

“Sorry,” he says, unconvincingly. “But… the truth is, there are certain factors that can affect the outcome. Like, in the early days of the Time War, for example. I needed strength, and resilience, and less empathy. So that’s the sort of man I became. The version of me you met. I can change into whatever I need to be, based on the life I’ve had preceding the change, the circumstances I’m in at the time of my death. And sometimes, that can include certain… strong emotional factors.”

He doesn’t say love again, doesn’t even think it. He’s careful not to, even though it’s so clear when they’re in each other’s heads he’s starting to forget why.

She hasn’t said it, either, though. Not in that context.

But the way she looks at him then, eyes bright and glassy, lips parted but holding back a gasp, he knows she’s thinking it.

“I was only thinking about you, while I was dying,” he continues, blowing past the moment. “I really, really wanted you to like me when I came out the other side. And you know what I was like before, I was…” he trails off, hesitant to slander his previous incarnation. Without him, he’d have never met Rose. He owes him everything. “But… you made me who I am now. And it could happen again. I can change into whatever you need me to be. That could even mean staying the same.”

“Really?” she cracks a little smile, encouraged.

“It’s never happened to me before, but I wouldn’t say it’s unprecedented in the universe at large. And even if I don’t stay the same, I promise you, I’ll make sure you’ll still like me.” He offers a gentle smile, and she returns it easily, pondering the possibility for a moment. She does seem uplifted at the idea.

“I’d never leave you, though,” she says. “You know that. Even if you do change. You’ll still be the Doctor.”

“Always.”

Waiting a long moment to ensure she’s depleted of questions for the time being, he leans down to capture her lips again. He intends it to be brief, chaste, even, but before they know it, hands are wandering and soft sighs are echoing through the infirmary.

Though he still thinks it would be brilliant fun to shag on the exam table, he really should be taking better care of her than that today. She deserves the best.

“Mh, want to head back?” he asks, breaking away.

“Really?” she asks, not bothering to hide her disappointment.

He chuckles against her lips.

“You were ready to have your way with me on this table a few minutes ago, what’s stoppin’ you now?”

“Nothing. I am certain it’d be lovely. It’s only that… I think you’ve been battered around enough for one day. And this table seems, er… conducive to bruises.” He taps his palm on it, and it gives just the unpleasant thump he predicted.

“I’m not as fragile as you think, y’know.” She narrows her eyes, derisive.

He only wants her to be as comfortable – no, more than that: spoiled – as possible, but he expected such a reaction. He continues with hardly a pause, trying a different avenue.

“No, you’re right.” He nods. “You’re not fragile at all. Tough as nails, you are.” Though he’s making a joke of it in this moment, he knows it to be entirely true; he’s seen just how resilient and capable Rose is. “But…” he lowers his voice. “It’ll be so much more comfortable there. It’s warmer… there’s a real bed. With real sheets. Soft ones, too.”

She does look enticed, but still hasn’t recovered from his jab at her fragility.

“Also, I just thought, since it’ll probably be our last night here, you might like to stay in our room for it.”

“Last night, really?”

She sounds disappointed, and her uncertainty gives him pause. They’ve done what needed to be done here, haven’t they? The fish are bouncing back. By the looks of it, Kairi’s project doesn’t need further input from him. Usually, Rose is ready to move on precisely when he is.

“Well, the problems are solved. Nothing left to see I haven’t shown you. Time we moved on, isn’t it?”

“Suppose so,” she shrugs, running her hand down his shirt. “It’s just been so lovely here…” she trails off, lost in thought. Silently toying with a button on his shirt. After a few moments, he begins to wonder whether she’s actually thinking about the island anymore or just imagining tearing off his shirt. He hopes the latter.

Suddenly, she shakes herself out of the trance.

“Where to next?” she asks, looking up.

After a moment of thought, he realizes he doesn’t know.

“I haven’t thought about it much, actually.” He frowns a little. He only just now realizes how odd that is. Before today’s cataclysm, he hadn’t given any thought to their subsequent destination. Despite the fact that this trip has been (romantic snafus aside) rather uneventful compared to other of their adventures, he’s been so wrapped up in everything with Rose he hasn’t been yearning to leave.

He always grows bored of any environment, eventually, becomes antsy to refresh his senses. Without the constant stimulation of fresh scenery and people, his mind crawls back to the past. Old demons and persistent fears wear down his psyche. So he avoids such circumstances whenever he can. He may have been forced into a nomadic existence initially, but now his wanderlust has become his most reliable coping mechanism.

But these past several days with Rose, he hasn’t once felt that urge. The deep tug to flee to greener grass. He’d be content to stay here several more weeks, years even. It was mere habit that made him suggest it was time to go.

But at the same time, the fact that Rose is going along with it so easily reinforces that line of thinking. Even if they’d both be content to stay, they’re more than content when they keep traveling.

“Oh?” she asks to break him out of his reverie. She sounds like she doesn’t quite believe him, and he can’t blame her.

“Off the top of my head, though…” He squints up at the ceiling to concentrate on potential locations, knowing looking anywhere on her body would distract him too much. “The golden mountains of Sbardha, perhaps? Orrrrr…. the infamous hypernova of the Taraka galaxy? Or, oh! I never did take you to Fentonillo. The aromatic planet. Even the dirt beneath your feet is vanilla scented.”

“What, seriously?” she sounds intrigued, but skeptical.

“Oh, yeah,” he nods, grinning. “You thought apple grass was nice, wait’ll you smell that.”

Rose giggles, and pushes him gently so she can jump off the table.

“We’ll figure it out later, hm? C’mon.”

She tugs on the front of his shirt and leads the way towards the hall.

When he carefully pulls open the front door and peers outside, it’s raining again. There’s a crash of thunder, but it’s muted and distant, perhaps a neighboring island taking the brunt of it now. Still, it’s easy not to feel threatened by the sound from within the safety of the TARDIS. He has his reservations about letting Rose anywhere near a storm again.

But then he remembers something.

“Not to worry,” he says, taking off back towards the hall. “I’ve got just the thing!”

He implores the TARDIS to move the storage room closer, and once the ship realizes why they’re in a rush, the Doctor is able to retrieve what he’s looking for and return to the console in a matter of seconds.

“An umbrella, really?” Rose asks when he brandishes the object upon his return.

“Not just any umbrella. An electricity-resistant rubber umbrella.” He sidles up to her and hands it over for her to inspect.

“Why do you even have this?” Rose asks, turning it over in her hands. “Go walking through storms often?”

“They’re commonplace on Karabijali. Essential, actually. Electrical storms are a daily occurrence there. Everyone’s got one. This particular model was a gift from an acquaintance of mine. Well, friend, I suppose. Well, ex-friend. We didn’t leave things on the best terms.”

Rose rolls her eyes at his anecdote, and pulls open the door, opening the umbrella as she steps out.

The Doctor follows closely behind and takes over responsibility of holding onto it. Though it’s plenty big enough for them to both be covered, he errs strongly on Rose’s side.

The walk is fairly short, and they don’t fill it with conversation. They would have to shout to hear each other over the rain, anyway, and watching the distant flashes of lightning has both their minds busy.

He doesn’t know if he’ll ever see lightning again without it eliciting hair-raising terror. He should be happy; it gave Rose a lifespan to match his. But each distant strike forces his mind to relive every harrowing detail: the light swallowing her fleeing silhouette, her lifeless body crumpling to the wood.

He’s anxious to get her back inside. Not just out of the storm, but bare in his arms. Maybe it’s vain, or naïve, to think that physically covering her body with his will do anything to protect her from any real dangers, but he can’t help it. When their minds and bodies are intertwined so closely, it feels like she’s safer. The universe can’t take her without going through him first.

As soon as they’re inside, he’s determined to waste no more time. He tosses the umbrella to the floor with a splash of water, and guides her over to the bed. She sits down on the edge, and he kneels in front of her, grazing his fingertips over the branching scars on her arms, still in disbelief at everything that’s happened in the last half day. He brings his hands up to her face, touching her temples to reunite them mentally. He’s had enough of talking and tests and numeric data; he needs to quantify her vitality with his own hands.

Her lips crash down against his, her hands are working off his shirt as soon as he’s suggested it. All their teasing from this morning and the infirmary table comes rushing back to them both. With the head start, their minds swirl together with a heat and desire that quickly translates to desperation for Rose. He has to slow her down with his hands tied around her wrists. Exude a sense of patience into her mind. Once he’s helped her undress, he invites her to lie back on the bed, stepping out of his shorts before he kneels down again.

He wants to take his time for this. Their first time united in this new, impossible timeline. His first time touching her since he thought he would lose her forever. To see for himself that she’s real and alive and his, and savor every moment. Every inch of skin. He can’t shake the feeling words will never suffice again; but he can at least begin to show her how grateful he is that she’s here. How beautiful and cherished she is.

His hands comfortably resting on her skin to maintain their link, he lowers his mouth to her ankles, which gave way too easily on the boardwalk. Willing strength into them with each kiss. He climbs up onto the bed as his lips ascend, showering her calves, knees, and thighs with tender kisses.

He’s then drawn to the scars on her arms, the only physical evidence of the transformation she’s undergone. He almost wants her to keep them as battle scars, reminders of how resilient she is. She silently agrees, but wishes his lips were elsewhere. Pleads with him to speed things up.

Want to take it slow, he says her through their link. I thought I lost you today.

She doesn’t respond with words, but their connection alights with understanding and reassurance. Her sense of urgency fades as she surrenders to his pace.

He’s gentle around her ribs, where faint bruises are forming from his own hands. Seeing the blue and purple blotches sends him straight back to the boardwalk, to an earsplitting crack and her heart stagnant in her chest. But Rose brushes her fingers through his hair tenderly as her mind quietly chases the memories away. He lets his lips linger on her chest as the sense of calm overrides the guilt and anxiety, savoring the way her heart is thudding against her ribs now. Grateful for her extraordinary ability to calm him, he spends some time tending to her breasts before continuing his exploration. The way it makes her squirm, clench her fists in his hair, gasp out his name, it nearly does him in.

He shifts his mouth up to her neck, where he can feel her racing pulse again. He can’t get enough of it. And when he finally touches her lips, it’s almost like kissing her for the first time again. Mere hours ago they were cold and still and her life was about to slip away forever as he touched them. But now they’re soft and warm as she fervently kisses him back, and he wants to go on kissing her forever.

Rose promises he’ll never have to feel them that way again.

Unexpectedly, a pulse of anger sizzles through him.

Don’t make promises you can’t keep, he commands, his eyes welling with tears.

I never have.

It’s not a tough act or a way to push her away. His default state is assuming everyone either leaves or dies. Because they always have. Every single one.

Rose knows that, but she’s trying to make him understand this is different.

And as much as his subconscious is fighting it, he can’t deny there’s an ember of hope inside him now that they may be able to spend forever together. And not only does Rose see that hope, she encourages it. Stokes it with every intoxicating stroke of her hands, every brush of her mind against his, until it’s a raging fire in his mind. For a moment, he’s even angrier that she would do this to him, because though it’s a possibility now, it’s far from a certainty. And the more hope he has, the more devastated he will be if those hopes are ever crushed.

Fueled by his anger and her determination, their kiss grows passionate. Before long, messy and uncoordinated. He rolls them over until he’s settled on top of her, pinning her arms to the sheets. His patience dwindles with hers, and he starts to grind slowly against her thigh until they both let out a groan.

He always knew she would slip away from him. Was convinced of it. It was only a matter of time.

But now… the test results flash through his mind. It’s more than possible. It’s likely.

Forever, Rose had said on that exam table. Not for the first time.

But this time it means something. It echoes with truth. It carries more weight than it ever would.

To everyone else, forever was an evocative vow; to him, it was hollow. Meaningless.

But the evidence is clear now. The numbers don’t lie.

Forever.

He slips inside of her heat at last, sighing out her name next to her ear.

Rose scrambles for a grip on his back, pulling him further, holding him closer.

But unlike what usually happens, their physical senses quickly fade from their perception as something else beckons their attention. The Doctor’s time sense tingles in the back of his mind, tugging on every thread of his consciousness, screaming for him to pay attention to it. He strives to ignore it, not wanting to interrupt this moment with his untimely ability, but the itch becomes progressively harder not to scratch. He lets down his guard for but a moment, and it quickly overrides their entire connection.

Golden, chaotic threads of time. Fleeting, contradictory visions. Decades of possibilities branch from this moment and wind into the future, the pathways ambiguous and blurry.

He recognizes it instantly.

It’s their newly intertwined timeline.

He can see all that could be, but until a few hours ago, this could never have been.

It would only take an ounce of focus to elucidate one of those paths, and the prospect is painfully tempting.

But he has to restrain himself. As all time travelers should, he has a rule against letting people know their fate prematurely, and he knows that ought to extend to Rose. Besides, if he can help it, he doesn’t want to know either. Whether it’s a future that entices him or one that fills him with dread, he’s better off not knowing.

But he also knows more often than not, he can’t fight these senses. When they have something to show him, he usually ends up seeing it whether he wants to or not.

He tries to steer their minds away from the future, back to pleasure and intimacy, and it almost works. He almost overpowers them.

But now that she’s had a glimpse, Rose is eager to see more. Bolstered by Bad Wolf, her power alone starts to make them a bit clearer.

His only way of fighting back, he starts to move, and tries to concentrate on the sensations it brings to overwhelm the visions away. The way she swallows him whole with every thrust, the way every inch of him fills and stretches her. Rose breathes out his name as the physical world catches up with her, but her desperation to peer into the future doesn’t diminish.

His time senses are too potent to ignore unless they’re both determined to.

The Doctor holds Rose’s hand as they race down a hospital corridor crowded with panicked medical staff. A fresh surge of attraction rushes through Rose when she realizes blue has replaced brown on his pinstriped suit.

He can’t help but smile as pride swells up inside him, and his mental fortitude to resist crumbles even further.

The TARDIS looks recently redecorated as they dance around the console initiating a dematerialization sequence. He can’t imagine doing that anytime soon, and concludes it must be far into the future. Perhaps even following a regeneration. Does this mean he may be able to stay the same for her, after all? A rush of euphoria floods through him at the thought, that translates to a wave of pleasure that brings them both to the brink of a climax.

He stops his hips and they temper themselves, both of them now loath for this to be over too soon.

It’s that moment that the Doctor realizes something: he’d normally see both sides of the coin in a revelation like this. Both the desirable and undesirable potential futures.

He can just barely sense some less enticing potential futures looming in front of them, shadows breathing in the distance. Ominous storms, threatening sheets of stark white. Screams and zaps of lasers and whips of cold wind.

But inexplicably, the golden light lingering in Rose’s mind chases them away before the Doctor can make out enough details.

Rather than wallow in the knowledge they exist, known to him or not, he clings onto the bright threads of their one and only shot at this, because he never thought he would get one. Gravestones punctuated his lonely timeline before. Definite ends were a perpetual certainty. But for once, a timeline with another person stretches into an indeterminate future. Now that the floodgates have opened, he’s having a hard time closing them. He wants to keep watching.

Rose’s bags and books are scattered around his bedroom; both their clothes hang in his closet; there are two toothbrushes on the counter in the loo.

He’s standing next to an ocean next, wearing a tuxedo he doesn’t yet own, surrounded by familiar lavender sand as the sun sets over the horizon. He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, combing a hand through his hair, messing up what was a pristine style. Reaching into the pocket of his jacket, he pulls out a pair of small silver rings inscribed with circular Gallifreyan.

He recognizes the trinkets immediately: they’re customary in Gallifreyan marriage ceremonies.

The Doctor freezes above her again, his breath caught in his lungs.

He suddenly feels a bit less guilty for not stopping this. With or without Rose’s persuasion, he was bound to have an episode like this. A shift in his timeline this critical wouldn’t remain stifled very long before its potential repercussions burst behind his eyes either way.

The events they’ve just seen are not set in stone – they’re in flux. All of them may occur, some, or none. But the mere possibility of some of them is enough to overwhelm their connection with a unique kind of hope.

Tears escape Rose’s eyes as the sprawling timeline shrinks and fades away, and the Doctor catches them with gentle kisses as he starts to carefully move again.

With a gentle nudge to her mind, he turns up the intensity of her physical sensations, and focuses solely on her as he settles into a new rhythm. Her pleasure quickly overflows into his body, too, and the building friction begins to drown out everything else once more.

Rose wraps her arms and legs around him possessively, determined to let nothing interfere with their forever. She begs him not to stop even as she vehemently wishes this could last forever, scrapes her teeth on his neck when she can’t decide which one she wants more. But by then it’s already too late. Soft cries of their names fill the air as they’re finally overwhelmed by it. Stars burst behind their eyes as they succumb to the tremors of pleasure, rocking back and forth in unison until they’re completely spent.

They lie tangled together for a while as they catch their breath, reflecting on everything they’d seen. They don’t talk; they don’t need to. But wordlessly reassure one another they’re ready to pursue the enticing possibilities that lie ahead of them.

When he opens his eyes, can’t help his gaze from drifting down to her figure, still pink and glistening from exertion. But before he can admire the view for long, her eyes open, too. As soon as she catches him staring, he feels her twinge of discomfort.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes.

He can feel her blush.

“Thank you for saving me,” she whispers to change the subject.

“Thank you for saving me.” She’s still so close to his mind, she understands that he’s using the word in a different sense.

She yawns, and her eyes drift closed again.

With one more kiss, he takes one of her hands in his, intertwining their fingers.

“You can sleep,” he whispers, brushing her hair away from her face. “We’ll have more time to talk tomorrow. And the next day. And the next ten thousand after that.”

She smiles, her eyes still firmly closed. He tries to stay strong as the strength of their connection starts to diminish when she slips towards unconsciousness. As much as he doesn’t want her to go, he can’t possibly force her to stay awake after everything she’s been through today.

But before she nods off, something startles her back to alertness. Her eyes open with a soft gasp.

Has she detected their connection is faltering and started to miss him already, too?

“You said a telepathic connection like we have shouldn’t be possible with me. With a human, I mean. It’s possible because of this, because of Bad Wolf, isn’t it?”

Right. Just another question.

“I’m fairly certain, yes. It’s still a mystery to me how I never detected it sooner. Wasn’t looking, I suppose. And I gather the TARDIS helped keep it under wraps for a while. Waiting until the right time.”

“’M glad it’s possible,” she murmurs. Curiosity sated, her fatigue catches up with her again immediately.

“Me too.” He squeezes her hand, and just barely manages to restrain himself from opening up their link fully again.

It’s less than a minute later she’s sound asleep.

He half regrets telling her she should sleep. A part of him (okay, a big part) wants her to stay awake all night so they can keep kissing and talking about their next adventure. Her exponentially greater need for sleep than his has always been annoying, but now that he’s likely to share a bed with her every night, he imagines it will be even worse from here on out.

He’s not at all tired. After everything that happened today, he has a lot to process. And he’s slept so many nights they’ve been here, he’s already overcharged as it is. Lying here yearning to touch her mind again, or worse, lusting after her while she’s trying to sleep, won’t be a productive use of his time.

He suddenly realizes the constant pattering of rain on the roof has stopped, the storm either spent or else raging on somewhere out of earshot. Without the incessant rain drowning it out, he can once again hear the gentle crash of waves against the shore he’s grown accustomed to. It would be comforting white noise if his mind weren’t racing.

Storms, test results, regenerations, marriage proposals… it’s a lot to take in. It was all enough to put Rose out for the night, but it seems to be having the opposite effect on him.

He’s just about to get up and head back to the TARDIS to find a project to keep his mind and hands busy for the night, when there’s a tiny rap at the door.

Confused and mildly alarmed, he leaps up to investigate, fishing his sonic out of his shorts before he heads to the door. But in the process, he realizes both he and Rose are still completely naked, and he’s suddenly gripped with panic.

He throws a blanket over Rose and wriggles his shorts on before he heads to the door.

He opens it cautiously, wielding the sonic in one hand. But he instantly relaxes when he sees it’s Kalei, equally shirtless. It is still a bit warm out from the tropical currents the storm brought in. But he was hardly expecting visitors tonight.

“Hi,” the Doctor says quietly, not hiding his shock.

“Hi,” Kalei sighs, as though with relief. “I just came to check on you guys. I was worried when you didn’t show for dinner.”

Oh. He’d completely forgotten about dinner. Rose really should have eaten, too. Oh, well. She needs rest. She can catch up on calories tomorrow.

“Dad said not to bother you, but I had a weird feeling earlier. I just wanted to make sure.”

“Sorry we didn’t check in, Kalei,” the Doctor says, trying to ignore what Kalei said about having a weird feeling. “We had a bit of an eventful day. And we didn’t want to get caught in the storm.”

“Eventful?” he asks. “What happened?” His forehead scrunches with concern as he leans over to peer past the Doctor’s head.

The Doctor pulls the door until he’s squeezed between it and the frame, effectively blocking his view.

“Nothing,” he says gruffly, but his body betrays him by sending all his blood into his face.

Suspicious, Kalei’s eyes wander up to his hair, then flicker briefly to the side of his neck. He nods knowingly with a little smirk.

The Doctor slaps a hand over his neck and sighs, blushing even more. He doesn’t even remember that happening.

“Anyway, do you two want anything?” Kalei asks, sensitive to the Doctor’s discomfort. “I can bring back some leftovers.”

“Rose is already asleep,” says the Doctor. “And I can do without. We’ll definitely come round in the morning.”

“Okay,” he shrugs. He turns to go looking slightly disappointed, and the Doctor feels a tug of regret.

“Was there anything else?” the Doctor asks sincerely, and Kalei perks up.

“Well… I did sort of hope, maybe, I could ask for some advice. About Dakota. I never did tell you guys about that date.”

The Doctor’s stomach twists uncomfortably.

“Of course,” the Doctor says with faux enthusiasm. “But I know Rose would want to be a part of it. Can we all three talk in the morning? I’m sure we can sort it out.”

“Yeah,” he smiles genuinely, not discerning the Doctor’s interest is completely fabricated.

“Great.” Knowing Rose will be the only one Kalei needs, the Doctor returns his smile.

“Thanks, Doctor. Good night!” With a small wave, he turns and jogs away. He really has grown a bit fond of Kalei, and he doesn’t want to cause him any grief. By trying to help in this regard, he most certainly would. Rose will be far more helpful.

The Doctor cautiously closes the door. When he climbs back onto the bed, Rose whispers to him.

“Wh’s’at?” she mumbles sleepily, stirring under the blanket.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Rose,” he whispers back as he lies next to her. “I hoped not to wake you. It was Kalei, he came by to check on us. I said we’d see him in the morning.”

“Kay. Good.” She cracks her eyes open, as though to ensure he’s securely back in bed. He suddenly feels guilty for considering leaving to work on other things. It’s what he’s always done when they’ve slept together before. But that was only ever in a platonic context. It feels different now, somehow, especially considering the day’s events. He doesn’t want to be apart from her. But nor can he lie here bored all night, his mind wandering back to her near-death experience or the prescient visions he’d conjured. So what solution is there?

She’s about to drift off again when a thought occurs to him.

“Rose.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles, eyes still closed.

“Since you’re up. I… I hate to ask, but…” His airway constricts before he can finish the sentence.

His hearts clench tightly in his chest. Is this going to be too much? He shouldn’t be asking at all.

“What is it?” she opens her eyes, sensing his acute discomfort.

“Do you think… er… could I stay with you tonight? I mean,” he lightly taps his temple.

“What d’you mean?” she asks, her confusion no doubt worsened by her exhaustion.

“I almost lost you today, and after everything, I… don’t think I’ll be able to sleep. But I don’t want to be apart from you.”

“I don’t have to sleep, Doctor. I can stay up.” Rose opens her eyes wide, and immediately makes an effort to appear perfectly alert.

“You don’t have to.” The Doctor chuckles. “You can sleep while we’re connected, I just need your permission to maintain it. It would mean I’d be able to see your dreams, if you have any, but that’s all. I won’t go snooping for anything else.”

“Yeah,” she nods, looking relieved that she doesn’t have to sacrifice any sleep. “Yeah, of course that’s okay.”

“Okay.” He still feels ashamed for asking, but he’s also flooded with relief that he can stay with her for the night. It’s so much better than tinkering.

“How’s that work, then?” she asks.

“Well…”

With a brief touch to her temple, he takes them to Rose’s garden in a few short seconds. It’s still brilliantly illuminated, and he already feels lighter as he takes in the familiar scenery and breathes in the chlorophyll and sweet pollen.

The blanket is still where they left it in the grass last time. He gestures for her to lie down, and she’s relieved to do so.

“You can just let yourself fall asleep,” he continues his thought as he nestles into the space next to her and holds her hand. “The same way you always would. You’ll be asleep in the real world, too.”

“Mmhm,” she mumbles, snuggling up against him and closing her eyes.

“You might dream of me more than you normally would.”

“S’okay with me.”

She stays awake for a few minutes longer, happy to have him as a guest for the night. Cuddling is great, she says, but this is a whole new level of comfort. She’s never felt more… well, she can’t put a word to the feeling. The opposite of alone. Knowing he’ll be here with her while she sleeps, she feels safe.

Safe.

Knowing she shares the feeling of being safe when she’s close with him, his hearts feel like they could leap right out of his chest. He’s never considered himself very masculine, too geeky and slight to really fit the bill, but she makes him feel like a proper man. And he’s realizing more and more just how much he likes it.

It’s obvious the moment she slips under. The stream of conscious thought abruptly halts, along with the familiar mixture of surface emotions swirling inside her. Her mind instead flits between abstract thoughts and recent memories quickly, processing and storing. And some moments, it’s completely blank. A peaceful stasis. But regardless if her mind is occupied or at simply recharging, it cradles his just the same, like he’s something that was always meant to be there. It’s next to impossible to dwell on negative thoughts while he’s surrounded by her like this, and he doesn’t try.

Though he’s not planning to sleep, he closes his eyes, content to spend the night basking in her presence, letting the golden light of this place warm his soul.

But after about an hour, Rose Tyler does have a dream.

And it is about him.

#ten x rose #ficandchips #another one down #it took a damn lot of work to get this chapter post ready #so i hope you guys like it :3 #written by yours truly

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bethshootsbands · 6 years

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Tarah Who? Interview

“Tarah Who?” was precisely my reaction when first discovering this band but don’t let the name put you off. Consisting of Tarah G Carpenter (TGC): Vocals and Guitar, Joey Southern (JS): Bass and Backing Vocals, and Coralie Hervé (CH) : Drums and Backing Vocals, these guys are pretty good and you can find out everything you need to know about Tarah Who? from our interview below:

How would you best describe your sound?

CH : The Tarah Who?’s sound is a mix between rock/punk/grunge but at the same time it’s kind of unique. I like to let people discover it by themselves and see what they think about it :) TGC: We are a rock, grunge female fronted power trio called Tarah Who? . The best way to describe our sound is the way people have described us on the road "If Motörhead was fronted by Alanis Morissette" JS: We play loud, we play hard and we play with a purpose! Every song is like it is our last.

What musical influences do you have i.e – ‘for fans of [insert genre/artist]

CH : I’m a big fan of Nightwish (symphonic metal band). I really love that genre !! I like Classic Rock and Metal in general. TGC: I grew up listening to a lot of Alanis Morissette, until I discovered The Distillers, Motorhead, Pantera, RATM etc... I m a big fan of the 90s rock, grunge ...:) JS: Tarah Who is for fans of rock, punk, and grunge!!!

Why should people care? – What do ‘Tarah Who?’ offer to the scene?

TGC: We don't try to sound like anyone else that we like. We play how we feel. We are authentic and raw. Our energy comes from the music itself, our chemistry together as a band and from the audience who really loves what we do. I agree that it can be a competitive industry for people who try to sound like everyone else, but if you you are true to yourself, you realize quickly that you, and your sound are unique. No one really plays like you unless you want to. I think that's where we stand out. We are not trying to please anyone, or fit in. The reason why we can't really describe our sound is because we are all influenced by different bands and we have a different background. Yet, together, we form and make this unique sound and music. JS: We stay true to ourselves, entertaining and creating a raw mix of rippling energy in any room.

what do you want listeners to take away (if anything) from your music? TGC: I started writing because I had a lot in my mind and in my heart but I didn't feel like I could share this with anyone in particular. Putting it into words, writing it down already made me feel lighter.There are certain things that you want to tell people but you can't tell them to their face. One of the first songs I wrote was to my friend who had a drug addiction. I wanted to let her know that I was there for her for as long as it took her to get off the drugs. It was not something I could tell her to her face because she was not listening. Instead of keeping those type of emotions, I write them down and they become songs. Another song that I wrote is called "Happy" It's a really pop rock"happy" tone but I actually talk about accepting to stay in a relationship that you are not happy in. We usually say " why is he/she staying if she/he is not happy " but how about... if you see that you're supposedly loved one is not happy, you are clearly not making them happy and neither are you, why do you stay? if you see that your partner is not strong enough to leave, why don't you? I performed this song one night and a girl came up to me, tears in her eyes and said "I relate to this song. thank you so much! " Since that day, I realized that we are all the same. I may be writing about my story, but anyone can relate and interpret to their own. I listened to Alanis Morissette because I related to her words and when I didn't i sympathized. I love psychology and behavior. I write a lot about this, I write about love, anger, betrayal.. the usual:) In the end, I hope that people open their hearts and understand also that we are all the same no matter what race, origin, religion or sexual orientation. We all have feelings that need to be felt, owned and explored. There is definitely a message behind everything that we are doing, there are more than one actually, from sharing a simple story, to entertain crowds and make people have a good time!, make people dream, and female musicians dare to play music and be who they want to become. I want to inspire kindness by talking about how people hurt each other on a daily basis, and of course, If we can ever raise money to support animals, we will:) JS: Give and take is important and being able to absorb constructive criticism is ideal in future development.

So when did you guys first start making music together?

CH : I started playing drums when I was 10, never stop since. I always been in a band and play live but it was just for fun.I’ll say that Tarah Who? is my first serious project and it’s really amazing !!! TGC: Thanks Coralie! I started playing the drums when I was 14. I played drums and bass in different rock bands in high school. When I moved to Kentucky to be an exchange student, I could no longer play the drums so I bought myself an electric guitar and Alanis Morissette songbook! That's how I learned how to play the guitar! lol! I still play the drums and bass in different projects for friends especially. Tarah Who? is my main project. I never really thought about music as a career, it is just what I have always been doing. Any job that I took was to support my music. I don't feel good when I don't play. I need to play a little bit every day. JS: I can remember strumming guitars my dad had laying around but it wasn't until I was about 12 that I began to focus solely on bass. I played in various bands throughout my youth and into my early twenties until I decided to move to Los Angeles to pursue music full time. One of my music professors in Community College made me realize that I was on the fence. One leg in my nine-to-five job at a hospital "normal life" and the other leg playing in bands at night and doing what I love "not normal". I could never be 100% at both so I had to make a choice. I jumped in my car with some clothes my basses and about $3,000 I had saved and I've been in Los Angeles ever since. That was seven years ago and the best risk I ever took.

How does the mixing/ song writing process usually go? TGC: It is usually a burst of emotions. I am usually in tears when it happens because I am either angry or sad. It is like a flash that lasts between 5 and 10 minutes. I am gone. My hand just spills words down on a piece of paper. When it is done I just put a date and time and let it sit for a while. Sometimes a day sometimes a few days.. then I come back to it with my guitar, and the song is already playing in my head. All the instruments are playing. I practice it so that I can track a demo. I don't change the words or anything because I don't want to change the emotions I initially felt. I track the drums, bass and guitar and a few vocal ideas ( backing vocals) I send the tracks to Joey and Coralie with and without their instrument. Since they have a different technique and sound (overall their own personality behind their instrument) I let them explore without the bass or drum tracks. I just send them a version with so that they get the overall feeling and intensity. Then we work on the song together until we are satisfied, then we record it and we play it live and share it to the world! JS: Tarah gives us the intention and story behind the song. Coralie Herve and I then add our personalities into the playing and hours later we have more Tarah Who? Any upcoming releases/shows/ anything to plug?

CH : We are always playing shows, specially in California. You can follow us on social media (Facebook, Instagram.. ) to stay tune for any news :) We are gonna release a video soon for our single ‘’Numb Killer’’ and it will be following by our new EP called ‘’64 Women’’. Really excited about it !!! TGC: Yes like Coralie said, We are always playing shows around southern California. The best way to stay updates is to check our website www.tarahwho.com or to follow us on bandsintown and songkick . We are also on every social media that you can think of including spotify, soundcloud etc.. (just type in TARAH WHO? and you ll find us) but we are mostly super active on our instagram @tarahwho . We love to meet new people so feel free to come and hang out at our shows:)

What can we expect from you in the near future? TGC: In the near future we will be releasing "Numb Killer" our single. It will be released with a music video. Coming right after that will be the ep "64 Women" . We will be promoting this EP on the road all year of 2019. so make sure that you add us on your bandsintown or songkick to have an updated tour schedule! Head to youtube.com:tarahwho , bandcamp.tarahwho , spotify/tarahwho Basically type in tarahwho on your favorite platform and you will find us:) Anything else to add, any advice for other breakout bands?

CH : Do what you love, if you believe and work hard for it, you’ll make it !! Everything is possible !! TGC: Thanks for having us! Support each other!! Be yourself! don't worry about what other think or say. You have one life to live, Live it the fullest! Don't waste your time!

There you have it folks! now you have an answer for when people ask Tarah, who?

#interview

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