“Don’t touch anything,” Rose says.
“Don’t touch anything,” he whines back at her, mimicking, cruel. He hates this place.
“Seriously, don’t John.”
She emphasizes the John. Not Doctor. Never Doctor. John.
“Well this is just fantastic, isn’t it?” he says, screwing up his face as he kicks the side of the thermal bionucleatic matter converter.
“I said don’t touch anything. That includes kicking. That’s a thermal bio -”
“I know what it is,” he sneers, “I‘ve forgotten more about the things in this room then you will ever know.”
“Well,” Rose says entering a code, that brings a wall down around the instruments, “I don’t care if you think you invented the bleeding thing, I want you to just leave it. You shouldn’t even be here, you know.”
“Right, because I am a danger.”
“You are. The Doctor said so. And I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on you. That includes keeping you away from technology you could use to blow a hole in the universe.”
“First off Blondie,” his lips wrap around the name. Enjoying the way his tongue rolls with it. He feels a bit like Donna. Feeling like Donna is the closest thing he knows to being strong. “I am the Doctor. Okay. You can call me John as much as you like, but I am the Doctor.”
“No, you’re - “
He doesn’t let her finish. “Second,” he nearly yells, pushing his face right into hers, “I’m not the one blowing holes in universes.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“What is that supposed to mean?” he mimics her. He wants to tear her apart. He wants to push every single button in this room. He wants to burn the place down.
Rose pushes back, their noses inches apart. He can smell her. He forgot how good she smells. They’ve both been avoiding each other for so long, there was never any opportunity to smell her. In that moment he forgets where he is and who he is, and wants nothing more then to bury his face in her neck and hair. He looks at her, and for a split second, he can see she’s forgotten where she is, too. But their eyes meet, and the spell is broken. They are back to bitter and angry and wanting to break everything in sight.
“You tell me what you meant,” she says. He can feel her breath. Warm and sweet and he wishes they weren’t like this, and they were kissing like they did on Bad Wolf Bay. He’s half tempted to wrap her in his arms again. But he can’t, because he is too full of fire and rage right now to even think of such things.
“I’m not the one who was punching holes in universes, all helter skelter without a bleeding care. Oh, I’m Rose Tyler, the laws of the universe don’t apply to me. Who cares about collapsing universes.”
“You destroyed the Daleks, you committed genocide. I’m stuck babysitting you, because you decided to play god and wipe out an entire race.”
“Is that what you think,” he says, full of venom. He’s not sure if the words he’s saying are true or not. He just knows he needs to hurt her, “I told you, he told you if that makes you feel better, that there couldn’t be travel between the universes. They would collapse and fall apart. But you didn’t care. You don’t care about anything but whatever whim you’re on. Ask your mum, ask Mickey. I had to kill to protect the universe. You endangered multiple universes. You could have killed every species. But who cares, because Rose is bored with Earth. He left me here to distract you. Because he knew he couldn’t trust you anymore.”
Her mouth twitches as she looks towards the middle distance. “You don’t know anything.”
He only laughs.
She moves her arm up to hit him, and he grabs it. She throws her other arm up and he grabs it as well. He’s holding both her arms in the air, and their eyes meet, and everything erupts. All the pain and anger and heart break.
He pushes her against the wall, hard. He can hear her grunt with it. There is kissing and licking and biting and scratching and it all feels so primitive, like wild animals. Fierce and frightened and angry. She bites his shoulder as he pushes her up on the wall, pulling open his trousers. She kicks off her trousers as well, clumsily, falling into him with the movement. He rights her back up and lifts her up, so her legs are wrapped around his hips. There isn’t time to worry about her knickers, so they get ripped off.
He can hear the drumming of his heart, his pulse is pounding in his ears. He feels like an animal feeding on it’s prey. She grabs his hips and pulls him closer, and her body slams against the wall. He can feel the legs straddling his hips shaking. His knees feel ready to buckle as well.
With his one arm planted on the wall, the other on the small of Rose’s back, he thrusts inside of her, the only sound in the room their own ragged breathing. With one final thrust it’s over. They are over. He slides his hands down along the wall, Rose still wrapped around him until they are both seated. He lets his hands leave her, and she unwraps her legs as they both lean side by side against the wall.
“This isn’t us,” he says, breaking the spell.
“I know.” she says. Neither of them make eye contact. Both of them stare out straight in front of them.
“We’re not like this. You’re not mean and I’m not bitter. But here we are.”
“Here we are,” Rose says, with a small laugh.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
“I have to go.”
He finally looks at Rose. She swallows, and lets her head roll back so she’s looking at the ceiling.
“I know,” she says, and he can see her crying.
She turns to look at him, mascara running. Looking like the girl he remembers. The hardness and resentment vanished. She looks like a little girl.
“It wasn’t supposed to be this way.”
He wipes a tear away, and kisses her lightly on the nose. “I know.”
“So, is this it then?” she asks, hiccupping with her words. He wraps his arm around her, holding her, and she clings to him, too. He knows if he stays it won’t be this way. It can only be this way now when they are saying goodbye.
“You know that’s not true. We just need to get away from each other before we implode. We blame each other for too many things.”
“Where will you go.”
“Travel like I always do.”
“I look at you, and I see the Doctor and I hear the Doctor. But then I feel you, and you only have one heart. And I touch you and you’re too warm. I see you, and I think of him. And it’s not fair.”
“I was supposed to take care of you. You were supposed to love me. We were supposed to have a life together.”
He has to leave now, or he never will. He gently pushes her away, buttons his trousers and stands up. He doesn’t turn around as he walks to the door. He knows he can’t turn around, or else he’ll run back to her, fall to her feet. Then they’ll end up back here again, in this stupid vicious cycle. He thinks of Martha.
This is me, getting out.