Fallen Walls

Part 3/3

Uploaded: January 16, 2015

Rated: T

Spoilers: None

Summary: Set sometime in series two, The Doctor and Rose Tyler have had yet another exhausting adventure on a planet that turns out to need more help then they are able to give. Coping with all that she has seen proves a little more difficult for Rose this time than it has in the past. Perhaps the Doctor will be able to make her feel better.

Disclaimer: None of the following characters or circumstances belong to me, but rather to the lovely people over at BBC who are responsible for the creation of this amazing show and its wonders. I own nothing.

A/N: And, our third and final part. Thanks guys, and enjoy! – Max

The Doctor was not in the slightest surprised when he returned to Rose's room to see that she had not moved an inch. He couldn't think of a time when he had seen her like this, in so much pain and not at all herself. She hadn't even been this bad off when she had been clawed by that rogue Voelak in a market they had been visiting. He had acted quickly of course; whisking Rose off to the TARDIS after ensuring that the authorities who had been chasing the creature had done their job. The amount of blood she had lost had concerned him greatly at the time but some pressure on the wound, several dermal regenerative lotions, a soothing balm, a good, sturdy bandage and some pain killers and she had been back to her jovial, cheeky self. Even throughout the process she had been joking with him the entire time about the creature's bad breath when it had hissed at her. This however, seemed to be effecting her in a completely different way and he wondered for a moment whether it was just the pain that was ailing his Rose.

Stepping closer, he was just about to ask her how she was feeling when he noticed her closed eyes and relaxed posture. She was asleep. It was no surprise really. She had only been asleep a few hours when she had woken up. She ought to be quite exhausted.

The Doctor weighed his options for a moment. He knew she needed the rest, knew that sleep would be good for her right now but that it really would do nothing to help her seized muscles. In fact, it would only become worse the more she lay unmoving. Making up his mind, he rested a gentle hand on her shoulder, rubbing in soft circles trying to ease her from her sleep. "Rose," he murmured.

He hadn't anticipated the way she would jerk and gasp as if she were wrenched from sleep suddenly. Her entire body went rigid for a moment and she blinked rapidly, sucking in a huge breath of air. "Woah, hey, easy. It's just me," he attempted to placate but she only clenched her teeth and buried her face in her pillow, muffling the painful sound that escaped her mouth.

"It's alright, Rose. You're fine. Try to relax your muscles. That's it," he coaxed, watching her breathing start to even out a bit again. Her face was covered by her pillow and her fingers were in tight fists against the mattress. A muffled sound came from the pillow but it certainly wasn't anything distinguishable. "What?"

"Drugs. Did you bring drugs," was the reply that came when she finally brought her face out from the pillow. He raised an eyebrow. "Painkillers! You know, Tylenol, Ibuprofen, Aspirin… anything…"

He shivered slightly. "Oh, no. Never Aspirin. Aspirin is very bad Rose."

"Just because it could cause your death doesn't mean it could cause mine," she began as he started rustling around in the bag he had brought into the room with him. "Right now, it would actually do the exact opposite of kill me. It would create a significant increase in my will to live, really."

"Oh hush and let me do my job, will you?" he snarked back with a smile. She only groaned again. She really was in a bad mood but with the complete lack of sleep, the intense muscle cramps and the fact that they had not had a cheery adventure in over a week; the Doctor figured she deserved to be a little short.

He removed a silver tube-looking device from one of his pockets that Rose had seen a few times in her time on the TARDIS and had picked up the purpose for. She watched as he inserted a glass vile of blue liquid into the end of it and nodded her consent when he held it to her arm with a questioning gesture. He pressed it to the junction of her elbow and there was a soft hiss, a click and a tiny prick of pain against her skin.

"What was that?" she asked, knowing he had injected her with something, hoping beyond hope that it was some kind of pain reliever but not wanting to complain anymore.

"Muscle relaxant. Should kick-in in a moment."

She nodded and closed her eyes, fighting her exhaustion. All she wanted to do was sleep. Sleep a deep, dreamless sleep for a solid ten hours and wake up when everything was normal and she could smile and laugh easily. But of course, with the harsh twinges running up and down her spine, no such respite could be found.

It didn't help either that she simply couldn't stop thinking. Thinking about devastation and loss and pain and everything she wished were eradicated from the world. It was a silly thing to think, she knew. Impossible. But it didn't stop her. It didn't change the images of a peaceful universe playing teasingly through her mind.

"Rose? How's it feel?" She opened her eyes lazily, attempting to gauge the pain, evaluate whether it was better, worse, or simply no different. She laid thinking for a moment. Deciding she was in no real mind to tell a difference between then and now, she committed to no one answer by emitting an indifferent sounding hum. The Doctor sighed.

Then his hands were on her. Rose immediately tensed, more out of surprise than any real pain, and felt him begin to push her shirt gently up her back. She could tell he was trying to be gentle and was grateful for it but could come up with no good reason in her mind that he should be doing this. "Hey! What you doing?" she said, attempting to move her head to look at him.

He stopped his movements. "I need to see what I'm doing. It's up far enough now, don't worry. I'm done with the shirt." He was clearly trying to calm her down. He was using his doctor voice again.

"Why do you need to see? Can't you just, I don't know… give me some medicine? I thought the muscle relaxant-" her words were cut off suddenly when she felt his cool hands on her lower back, just above her tailbone. His thumbs pressed into her skin, stretching the muscles underneath. They immediately cramped, seizing and throbbing, and Rose turned her face into the pillow her head was lying on. What in the hell was he doing?

"Relax, Rose. The more relaxed you are the easier this will be. Breathe." She could hear him saying words, sentences, but really didn't have the ability to think too hard about their merit in that moment. He pressed again, working her muscles with his fingers.

She tensed again. Or more. She had never really stopped. "What are you doing?" she managed to get out of her mouth after moving her head to the side again. She was completely baffled.

"We've got to work the knots out of your muscles. Massage is the best way to go about it. The muscle relaxant I gave you helps with the process. It will be a lot better for you though, if you relax. Calm. Let me help."

The way he said it was so caring, she thought. Not his doctor voice anymore. No, this was the Doctor. This was her friend, the man she cared about so very much and who, she knew, cared for her as well. She sucked in a long, deep breath and tried to settle into the mattress. Her eyes closed. Her fingers unclenched from around the bed post.

"That's it. Lovely." This time, when his fingers came to her back, working her muscles with a practiced ease that she couldn't help but wonder about, she fought through the urge to tense and stayed relaxed. It hurt, but then it didn't. It began feeling good, excellent really as she felt the tension drain from the muscle, and Rose couldn't help but let out a soft sigh. The Doctor chuckled.

He moved his way up her back, moving from major muscle to major muscle, stretching and working her muscles through the tension and all the way into relaxation. The waves of pain that came to Rose were now relatively quickly replaced by those of pleasure as the knots were worked out, and she could hardly believe that she hadn't fallen asleep yet.

The Doctor was working on the stiffness in her neck, finding the last group of tense muscles and beginning his massage pattern when he felt her tense again. She sniffed quietly, and a spasm rocked through her body, a sob coming from her mouth. Immediately moving his hands away, the Doctor jumped into a position from which he could see her face. Once he did, he saw that her cheeks were wet.

Cupping the side of her face that was not pressed against her pillow, the Doctor rubbed her cheek with his thumb. "What's the matter? Did I press too hard? You seemed okay so I figured… oh."

She was sobbing. Full, wracking sobs that rocked through her like tidal waves. She sat up suddenly, arms wrapping around him, face pressed against his shoulder. The Doctor reciprocated immediately, wrapping himself around her.

Rose began rambling against him. "They died. They all died, they were all dead. All the bodies…" She was gasping for air against him, sucking in breath after breath as if she couldn't get enough.

"Rose, no, it's okay. It's alright." He shushed her gently.

"No! I was… I was helping bring them in. I was bringing them into the church. They were so… they were all in such bad shape. Even the children…" she was pulling away from him slightly now, her head jerking from side to side, looking straight through him. Seeing things he couldn't, he could tell. Oh, how well she had faired all this time through their travels. How could he not have expected for everything to become a little to much at some point? He was stupid, he knew, stupid for putting her through all that he did. She didn't deserve this.

"I know. But we saved them, remember. We saved many people. Had we not been there Rose, things would have been much worse…" The Doctor realized a tad too late that this may not have been the best of things to say when she only sobbed harder.

"She died Doctor! She died in my arms. She was so little. She was tiny. I don't… I can't…" Rose thrashed against him now, her breathing even faster and shallower than it had been.

"Hey. Rose… Rose look at me." He grasped her forearms, managing to trap them against his chest, moving so he was holding them with one arm. With the other, he caught her jaw and turned her face toward his. "There you are. Hello. Now I want you to breathe, Rose. In and out, you know how. Relax. You're safe." When her eyes finally met his and seemed to focus, she calmed slightly and he relaxed his grip on her arms. "That's it. Breathe. Just like that."

She slumped against him again, crying softly as she focussed on relaxing her breathing. He simply held her, trying to come down himself from the adrenalin of the moment. Humans had the most fascinating ways of coping with trauma. He'd seen it so many times, having as many humans along with him for as long as he had, and it never ceased to confuse him. In a way though, he found it perfectly effective. Being able to get everything out of one's system in that way, all at once, without any reservations, was somehow extremely effective. He wished he could let go that way sometimes.

Of course, he very much disliked Rose going through anything of the sort. It was unfair of him, to expect her to handle all the things they did without any reservations. As much as he was loath to admit it, it hurt him to see her hurting. He'd grown to care for this human so completely. When had that happened?

A little voice in his mind answered, "Run."

He sighed, resting his cheek against the top of her head and kissing her hair without as much as a thought, and rubbed circles on her back.

It was then that Rose got a hold of herself. She pulled away rather abruptly, wiping at her smeared mascara and attempting to stop her hiccupping breaths.

"'m sorry…" she said softly as she began looking around herself, searching for something apparently. She straightened her blankets, adjusted her top, and blew her nose in a handful of tissues that were sitting on the nightstand. The Doctor's eye brows furrowed.

"What? Rose, you haven't anything to apologize for." He reached a hand out to her.

"Of course I do. Of course I… You shouldn't have had to do that. I'm not that person. I don't need… that," she settled on the word as though she weren't happy to be using it and evaded his touch. The Doctor couldn't make out what she was saying as she muttered to herself and asked for clarification.

"Just, you can go. I'm sure you've got loads to do. I've been enough of a bother," Rose replied more clearly with a smile that was stiff and lacking in any real emotion.

"Never." She looked up at him in confusion at that. "You're never a bother. Never could be," and he reached out again, this time succeeding in reaching his goal. He tucked a strand of her knotted hair behind her ear. She stared down at her lap.

Chuckling softly, he added, "Well, besides maybe when you insist I come with you while you visit your mother. That's nearly always a bother." This time when she smiled, he could tell it was genuine.

"Tell me about her," he implored gently, settling next to her against the headboard. Rose knew he hadn't meant her mother.

So, she told him about the young girl who she had tried to save. About how she had such deep blue eyes, like nothing she'd seen before. The colour of the TARDIS, almost an exact match. She told him of her lovely braided hair and the way she watched Rose's every move, hung on her every word as if she were the most important person in the world. Rose supposed she had been just that to the homeless, parentless, child though. She told him of the way she was absolutely certain the dress the girl had been wearing would have been beautiful if not for the rips and blood stains.

Rose told him how she died. How there had been nothing that could be done. How she had tried and tried and tried…

"You made a difference today, you know." They were so entwined by this point that they were practically one, sitting closely with arms and legs tangled. "You're extraordinary."

Her cheeks turned a hardly noticeable pink as she looked down and shook her head. The Doctor gently took her jaw in his hand though, tilting her face up to his, so close he could feel her breath ghost across his lips.

"You're extraordinary," he repeated in a whisper and kissed her. He kissed her softly and with so much care that Rose thought she may die, right then and there.

He stayed in her room that night, handing her Tylenol and a glass of water to prevent the soreness that he knew she would feel in the morning from her injuries. He watched her for a while, as she slept, absently running a hand up and down her arm. He couldn't turn away from her. He thought he may never be able to.

The Doctor slept. He slept, for the first time in a very long time, just because he could. He dreamt about pink and yellow ribbons and soft hair. He warded off her nightmares as she slept, filling her head with thoughts of joy, hope and love. It wasn't much. He knew it could not completely make up for the things that plagued her mind. He also knew that it couldn't hurt though. That was why, when he woke in the relative morning only to see Rose sleeping peacefully beside him still, he didn't leave as he once may have. He didn't leave because for once, he was going to do the thing that didn't hurt.