Buffy
the Vampire Slayer
Doctor
Who
Enjoy!
La Petite Mort (chapter 8)
Trust Me on This
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, if I did, the TARDIS would always be a'rockin' and Ten and Rose would never leave.Summary: The Doctor never saw fit to warn Rose about things that could happen. And then they happened. Doctor/Rose
Author's Notes: This chapter is dark-ish and adult.
Thanks: To JennyLD aka momdaegmorgan for plotting with me when I got stuck. And for holding my hand throughout.
****
Rose halted. The time rotor was still moving, the engines humming, but under that, she thought she heard the Doctor call to her, his voice strained and cracked.
Not like that of a man in the midst of solitary bliss.
This was tired and pained. Turning to face him, half-shielding her eyes from what she might see, she darted her gaze over the console room. It looked the same as always. Green light glowed in the center of the room, sending an eerie luminescence over the gold and coral and metals mixed with plastic buttons and knobs and dials. The metal flooring beneath her slippered feet was dark.
The Doctor was on the far side of the room, between the captain's chair and the console, kneeling as if in supplication. His head was bowed to his chest and his back was rounded, shoulders slumped forward. As she watched, a breath left him and then was slowly drawn back in.
Frowning, she moved silently toward him, stopping a few feet away.
The ends of his brown button-up shirt were spread out on either side of him, the arms rolled up in wide, uneven folds of fabric to his elbows. She could just see the side of his face; it was pale and there was stubble on his jaw and just the beginnings of a shadow of a beard. His eyes were closed.
But as she neared, he jerked upright and drew in a deep breath, panting shallowly. His eyes snapped open and his head turned, facing her.
Rose stopped, unable to control her gasp of surprise. The hand nearest the console grabbed at the edge, her fingers scrabbling for purchase.
His eyes were darkened, the irises almost completely obscured by the black of his pupils. The smell of sex surrounded him, stirring something in her in response that she quickly tamped down. Inside his eyes, deep in them, she could see the pain he was in, and now was not the time for her to become aroused just because he smelt and looked and was... all sex.
"Doctor, what... is it?" she asked, her voice barely emerging from between her lips. He looked nearly unconscious, but as she drew a little nearer, his hands moved to his lap.
Though she'd thought she'd caught him masturbating in here, it didn't really strike her until just now that his trousers were actually open. He was hard, and his hands were hovering over his erection, like he didn't want to touch himself. And she could see why. His skin was red and raw looking.
There were stains on his trousers and shirt and though she had an idea as to what they were, she didn't want to look too closely to find out. And then he confirmed it.
"I can't stop, Rose." One hand encircled his erection, but didn't move. His head dropped even more, his eyes lowering as his other hand pulled the tail end of his shirt to his lap, trying to cover himself up. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
A sudden shudder went through him. She saw his hand move just out of her view, saw him wince and grit his teeth. Seconds later, he stiffened and his entire body collapsed while still in a kneeling position.
He'd barely touched himself before coming.
His back straightened a little, and, brushing off the fact that he'd just masturbated a few inches away from her, he continued, "It's a drug." His voice was a bit stronger, but still too weak for her liking. "An aph... aphrodisiac."
"Someone drugged you?" she asked, surprised more than she probably should be by this revelation.
He shook his head slowly, just a small shift from side to side. "No, it's... it doesn’t matter."
She could see the fight it was taking for him to get the words out. He was struggling with each breath, each word his lips needed to push out.
"The drug, it-- it gets into a person's system--mine, in this case--and it arouses, and begins to cycle into shorter and shorter time periods until it's--" he jerked his head up, sharp eyes staring into the darkness on the other side of the console.
"All you can do," she whispered, following his line of sight. There was nothing there, just the console with wires sticking out of it, and the hammers hanging from a nail on the other end. Kneeling beside him hesitantly, she reached out to touch his shoulder, but he shrank away, snapping his gaze back to her.
"Don't," he muttered, looking at the floor. "I can't take it right now."
Trying not to feel hurt, she dropped her hand to her lap and sat back on her heels. "Sorry." They were always so tactile around one another that it actually took more effort not to touch him than it did to touch him.
He sighed and shifted away from her. "There's an antidote that I can make. I just, I need to get to the console." He rested shaking hands on the floor, attempting to get up, to make his body move higher than a slumped heap, but she could see the effort it took him. Sweat was beading on his brow and that scared her; she'd never seen him sweat before.
He fell forward, catching himself inches from falling face first into the metal grating. When she moved forward to help, he jerked away from her touch yet again.
"Please, don't," he said, blowing air through dry lips, back and chest heaving as he fought to breathe.
"Doctor--" she began, but he sat back, shifting away from her.
His groan was low and barely audible as he shuddered in defeat. With a quick glance at his lap, she saw that he was getting hard again. When his hands lowered, she stood up and hastily paced away, swallowing thickly and trying not to listen. Fighting tears, she fiddled with the console, wishing she could help him, but with the way he kept avoiding her touch, she didn't think that was a good idea.
Would he die if she touched him now? Would he regenerate?
Moments later, she heard scrambling sounds behind her and turned to see him once again trying to stand. He made it as far as a few inches above the floor before dropping back down.
She watched him, squeezing her hands into fists to keep from rushing over to help him up. "You can't even get to your feet, how do you expect to pilot the TARDIS?"
He waved off her words as if they were of no more consequence than a gnat. "Doesn't matter. I have to."
"You look like you're dying," she told him, and her stomach clenched tight when he only stared evenly back at her. She drew in a deep breath and stood up straighter. "I'll do it, I'll get us there."
He shook his head, a tired smile playing about the corners of his lips. "It's not as easy as that. It's a precision flight."
"So?" Turning confidently back to the TARDIS controls, she ran her eyes over the ones she knew. "Just tell me what to do." There was the gyro-switch stabilizer. The randomizer. A button that she thought might be the thrusters, but she'd never used them, so she couldn't be sure. "Did it before," she called over her shoulder, though the words were more for her sake than his. Her confidence was beginning to wane at the sight of so many controls. She'd only ever flown the TARDIS with the Doctor right there, standing over her shoulder, watching her every move.
"When you flew before," he said slowly, but with slightly more strength than before, "those were random flights. Random landings."
She turned around with a huff, annoyed that he didn't seem to have the confidence in her that she didn't have in herself. "But you can tell me how to do it, yeah?"
He shook his head and she saw the warmth in his eyes, the slight smile climbing a little higher on his lips. "It's too difficult for me to..." the smile slipped and he sank down a bit. "To relay everything. You'd need to know the names of all the bits and bobs."
Her eyes returned to the console and all the dials and buttons. Flips and switches and square things that seemed to exist only to be beaten with a hammer. He was right; she had no idea what she was doing. If she did try, if she made the attempt, she'd probably only end up messing things up, and without him to fix them again, it wouldn't be the usual giggle-worthy moment those times always turned into.
"Ok, so," she started bravely and then trailed off, sighing heavily. Shoving away from the console in frustration, she let her eyes roam the room, though whether for inspiration or to get the image of the Doctor out of her mind for a few precious seconds, she didn't know.
It was hard to look at him and see the man she loved so weak that he couldn't get up off the floor. To see him and not be able to run to him to help him. To fix him. But it might kill him. He'd been telling her since Satellite Five that it was safe, and she hadn't believed him. But what about now? He was dying and he needed help. But she couldn't give him that help, so what could she do?
Help him until he did regenerate? Comfort him until he died?
Swallowing the distaste she felt for that idea, she looked at the man in front of her. He was still him, but he wasn't.
She wanted him to be this Doctor. Talking a mile a minute, rushing around the console, doing his Time Lord thing.
But he wasn't going to be that way until either she got them to the planet he needed, or he regenerated, and even then, he'd be that other him, not this him. She forced herself to face the facts; he was dying.
Her fear was in her voice when she spoke again. "There's got to be something I can do to help."
He was gritting his teeth now, hands shaking as he dropped his head to his chest. It was coming over him again. About once a minute now, she figured. His body wouldn't be able to keep up for much longer, even with two hearts. He maneuvered his back to her again, though she wasn't sure why he bothered; was he ashamed or embarrassed or did he just think she didn't want to see him like this?
It was too late really, because she had, and she'd never be able to get the sight of him on the floor, desperate and frantic, out of her mind.
"Doctor," she muttered, closing the distance between them. Resting a hand on his shoulder, she knelt beside him. "Let me help."
"No," he gritted out. One hand clutched at the end of his shirt while the other shoved her hand away. "You don't trust me, remember, Rose Ty..." he shook his head as if to clear it and stared at her with a confused frown. "Rose."
Her temper flared at his continual dismissal of her. She didn't understand why he kept pushing her away. It wasn't like it mattered at this point anyway. He was dying. If she touched him, it was likely only to speed up the process, maybe give him a little pleasure in the meantime. Clenching her teeth, she shot daggers at his shoulder. "There has to be something we can do!"
"Well, there's not," he yelled back, eyes sliding to the side to stare at the walkway above them.
Settling her gaze on his back as he touched himself, refusing to let her in, she had the sudden feeling that he was hiding something. "Yes, there is," she insisted, crossing her arms over her chest. "What is it? What aren't you telling me?"
"Nothing. I'm not not telling you anything. All right?" His usually expressive eyes were dull and rimmed in dark circles, the weariness pouring off of him in waves. "This is it. The Tandis Root on Nmilport Three, Remeon providence, southern part of the continent, the year three thousand--"
Sharp, assessing eyes moved over his figure, taking in the way he wouldn't meet her eye, wouldn't look at her at all, and came to the conclusion that she was right. "You're a liar."
He didn't answer, merely slid his hands to his lap.
Rose watched him this time, didn't look away or turn her back. He wasn't completely preoccupied with his problem; he was also avoiding answering her. She could see it plain as day. "Looks like I was right not to trust you. You can't even give me an honest answer when your life is at stake." Satisfaction shot through her when he turned guilty eyes her way.
"It doesn't matter," he grunted, fingernails of his unoccupied hand scraping along his thigh, "doesn't matter because you don't trust me." He gasped, dropping his head back on his shoulders and staring up at the ceiling for a moment before turning his accusing gaze her way, tongue at the roof of his mouth in that way that he had to know did all sorts of things to her insides.
"What?" Caught off guard by his words, she grabbed the console behind her. This was her fault? There was something she could do to help and he wouldn't let her because he didn't think she trusted him? Idiot! The only thing she didn't trust him about was the one thing right now that didn't matter because, either way, it was going to happen.
He waved her query away. "Nothing."
"No," she challenged, pushing away from the console. "No, it's not nothing. There's something else we can do, but you don't want to for some reason. Seriously, is now the time to be stubborn?"
His chest raised and lowered slowly, heavily. Tilting his head, he leveled his gaze to hers. "Sex."
"Fine," she said without hesitation. "If that's what it takes..." but then she remembered, it couldn't be with her because she'd end up killing him anyway. It had to be with someone else. She continued, weighing her words carefully so that he didn't hear the pain in them. "I'll land us somewhere--randomly--and find someone."
His eyes flashed in the first real display of fire she'd seen since leaving him behind in the kitchen. His jaw set tight, lips thinning into a line. "No."
But she paid him no mind. It was to save his life. He could have sex with someone else. And she could... bracing herself on the console, she fixed her mind on the end results. This would save his life. Bonus all around. Except for the part where he had to sleep with a perfect stranger. "So, I just... flip this," she mumbled, trying to remember the order in which he'd taught her. Flipping the white switch beneath her fingers, she turned her mind to the dial on her right. "Spin this to--"
"No," he said more forcefully. "Rose T-- Rose Tay--" he broke off with an annoyed sound and she heard him trying to move behind her, trying to get up.
She felt safe in the knowledge that he couldn't do it. He was too weak. She spun the dial and moved to the other side of the console. "Then I..." biting her finger, she stared down at the numerous choices. A red switch caught her eye. "I like red." She flipped it.
A hand suddenly grabbed hers and she jerked her head up to see the Doctor standing beside her, panting heavily, shirt open, chest heaving as he glowered at her. His hair was a mess, sticking up this way and that. The button and zip of his trousers were still open, but he'd put himself back into his pants. And there was such a fierce look in his eyes. "I said no."
Rose freed her arm and moved a few feet away. "If it'll save your life, why not?" How could he be this stubborn? This stupid?
He dropped all of his weight on his arms, bracing himself on the console as she'd done only moments before. He flipped a couple of switches and pressed a button that was just barely within reach. The TARDIS landed with a rough bump, knocking him to the floor and he fell on his back with a pained oomph. "It won't work," he panted, eyes turning to hers as she knelt beside him. "Will only work... with you."
She was too startled by his words to come up with a reply. Sex with her would cure him? That was stupid. Sex with her would kill him. Doubly kill him. "Oh, pull the other one," she told him, ignoring the moan her touch forced from his lips.
"I'm serious," he gasped, stretching under her hand, no, arching into it. She heard his breath catch and dropped her eyes to his lap.
He was hard and his hands were moving again and she wanted to help him. Wanted to soothe his skin and take away the pain she could see he was in. Instead of taking himself in hand, he reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a small amber bottle.
"What's that?" she asked, eyeing the bottle.
"Numb," was his only reply. His hand shook as he tried to fit his fingers around the sprayer.
She took it from him and sprayed a little on her pinkie, then raised it to her nose and sniffed it. There was no smell, but her skin felt tingly. Apparently it was a numbing spray of some kind. "Here," she murmured, moving around in front of him and settling between his splayed legs. His futile resistance was brushed aside with an impatient hand.
Was now really the time to fight her?
His brows dipped down when she knelt in front of him. "When I imagined you like this... it was with your mouth doing perfectly fantastic things to me and we were shagging like bunnies." He leaned back tiredly, resting his arms on the floor and chuckling darkly as she lightly pressed her fingertips to the waistband of his pants. "And it didn't hurt this much."
Biting her lip, she slid her fingers under the elastic, trying not to brush against his warm stomach. When she heard him suck in a breath and felt him draw back from her hand, she knew she'd done so anyway. "Sorry."
He raised a hand to her hair and slid his fingers down to the end of the strands.
Rose lowered his pants and freed him, nearly biting through her lip when she got a good look at him. It was so red and raw looking. Painful. Lifting the bottle, she slid her fingers under his cock and spritzed his skin. Almost as soon as she touched him, he got hard. Almost instantly hard. That wasn't natural, wasn't normal. No wonder he was in such bad shape. All the blood in his body was being rerouted. She slid her fingers tentatively along the flesh, trying to spread the liquid all over, but jerked her hand back when he grabbed hers, stilling it on him.
"Rose..."
Lifting her eyes to his, she saw that his mouth was tight. "S-- sorry." She loosened her fingers, but his hand tightened on hers.
Instead of tossing her hand aside, as she'd expected, he moved it along his cock, keeping his eyes on hers as they stroked him together. His hips arched up and then bucked, straining for the smallest of moments as he came, but there was no semen to speak of. As he relaxed back, she saw his heavy-lidded eyes stray to her lips, looking more satisfied than she'd seen him since first happening upon him.
"Thank you," he mumbled, darting his head to the side in a sudden movement that had her scrabbling along the metal grating to see if an alien was sneaking up on her.
"What is it?" she gasped, eyes darting this way and that, but everywhere she looked all she saw was the familiar; metal railings, glowing green luminescence and coral struts. "Doctor?"
Lowering his head to his chest, he collapsed backward, hitting his head on the flooring. "Nothing. I just thought I saw-- nothing."
Watching him closely, seeing his chest rise and fall more slowly than before, she waited for signs of the regeneration she still worried would come. But for some reason, this had felt different. Not as strong or life-ending. Chuckling mentally, she scooted over to the Doctor. Smoothing a hand down his temple, she stared into his face, waiting until his eyes opened and fastened on her before speaking. "You were serious?" At his blank look, she clarified, "When you said sex with me would cure you?"
He opened his mouth to reply, but she shook her head.
"I mean without you dying. Without regeneration."
His dark eyes, earnest and honest, settled on hers. "Yes."
For some reason, this time she believed him. "Why?" She shrugged a shoulder. "I mean, why me, specifically?" Her eyes swept over his face, searching for a hint of a lie. "Is it because of the artron energy and the huon... whatists? The thing that makes us and sex a bad idea?"
Looking more alive, he pushed himself into a half-reclining position, and she could've sworn she saw his lips turn up just the slightest bit. "Oh, you're clever."
Her lips quirked up in response to his words. "So, where before it killed you, now it'll save you?" Her smile disappeared as she thought about it. "That's too much of a coincidence."
"That's irony," he said brusquely, waving away her concern.
But she was already thinking about the next problem. "Doctor, I don't know if I can do this."
His hand lifted to her cheek, touching it only briefly, leaving a minute imprint of heat along her skin, before dropping to his side helping to support him again. "You can. You're Rose-- Rose..." trailing off, he flicked his eyes away and swallowed. "Rose--" breaking off with a sigh, he shoved himself into a full sitting position. An angry tone entered his voice as he stared at her, studying her face, examining her. "You're Rose..."
"Tyler," she whispered, tears gathering in her eyes.
"Tyler," he repeated fiercely. "You can do anything, Rose Tyler."
That wasn't exactly what she'd meant when she said she couldn't do this. There were other things to consider, like how the hell she could ever become aroused while he was in this condition. Maybe, once upon a time, finding the Doctor half-naked in the control room masturbating would've been a turn on, but right now it wasn't. It really wasn't, and it was making it hard for her to even imagine being in the mood at all.
But she needed to in order to save him. There was no way she could pilot them to the specific place and time they had to be to get the root he needed, and even if she did, how much time would he need to make the antidote?
She didn't have the first clue how to do that herself, and it was most likely exactly like flying the TARDIS, something he couldn't tell her how to do; you either knew, or you didn't.
Rose felt her frustration mounting.
"Doctor, I don't think I can... I mean," she cleared her throat and swallowed. "I'm not exactly, er, turned on right now and I don't think I can be or will be." Rushing the words out hadn't helped her embarrassment, but it may have succeeded in confusing the Doctor.
He was looking at her oddly. "I'm sorry?"
Taking a deep breath, she settled her hands in her lap and forced her eyes not to lower there as well. "I'm not... you know, ready. For sex."
His eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline. "You've had it before," he said incredulously. "With me. Often."
She chuckled and sucked her lips into her mouth to halt her growing smile. "No. Uh, body-wise. I'm not... I'm not likely to get-- wet, Doctor. I'm not going to get wet anytime soon."
"Ah." Eyes wide, he stared at her for a moment, considering the problem. "Right. I could help... try to help?"
"You're in no condition to--" he darted forward and kissed her, holding her to him as tightly as he could, but his strength just wasn't there. His hand dropped away and she could feel him panting again. She easily pulled away from his lips and then she felt his other hand on her chest, sliding along her cotton-covered breast. It slipped lower, to her stomach, and then brushed up under the hem and back up again, trailing along her skin. "Doctor, you're in pain, that's not something that's going to-- oh."
He grinned as his fingers pinched her nipple. "No?"
Rolling her eyes, she grabbed his hand and removed it from under her shirt. "No." Though having his hands on her usually was just about all it took to get her wet anymore, or a word, or a look, really, and sometimes the smell of him, and the sight of his glasses and his tie or when he had his shirt unbuttoned and his chest and neck were visible to her hungry, hungry eyes... clearing her throat, she shook her head.
This time it did nothing for her. She knew he was in pain, knew this was life or death, and that was in no way arousal-inducing. But she'd remembered something.
She climbed to her feet and looked down at him, biting her lip. "Just, um, hold on. I'll..." sighing, she turned from the look of disbelief mixed with disappointment on his face, and ran out of the room.
"Wha--?" she heard loudly behind her. "I thought... but you--"
8-08-08
