tampered | Log ongoing; closed

Log ongoing; closed

When; May 23rd
Rating; R for a vague sort of blood and gore and implied nasty things.
Characters; Rose Tyler

iwasherefirst The Doctor with the hair

am_i_being_rude
Summary; Rose is caught in the woods with cannibals. This story does not end well
Log;

It started with a kitten, at least Rose thought it started with a kitten. In hindsight, it's entirely possible she was baited out here. There had been a pit with some sort of spears in the bottom of it. She'd made out fairly lucky there: one through her right shoulder and one through her thigh that missed the main artery. She'd struggled, managed to get herself free from the spears only to find her device had gone dead. She was still conscious, still aware enough to hear them coming. She was cautious; her travels with the Doctor and her time in the City warning her that she needed to be careful, but then she'd heard voices. They were human voices and she was bleeding far too much to be picky about who her saviours were. Her cries for help had not gone unheeded. They'd had a sling and a backboard to pull her up; that should have raised red flags for her, but she was far too grateful to notice those sorts of details. At some point during her rescue, everything went a little black.

It went a little black because she'd been hit very hard on the head. When she awoke, her situation looked a lot more dire and now...

Now she's mostly given up screaming. She's not entirely sure she can anymore. She knows she's crying because of the wet tracks that cut through the blood on her face and she murmurs over and over Doctor, find me.

He will. She knows he will and maybe, it won't even be too late.

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He'd realised she was mmissing pretty early on, really, because he and she --- she and he.. It was a thing, okay? They went together, and they told each other where they were going if they didn't. So he'd known she was out doing something and then he'd known she wasn't getting back because she hadn't rung him to tell him she'd be late. This totally points to 'missing' in the Doctor's mind.

And of course, then he went outside - it had been a general, 'ensconce self within work, no network, no other work' type day for reasons he didn't fully understand. Outside, and then... Running. An awful lot of running, because he genuinely preferred to not be eaten, thanks very much. Even if they did seem to be after human blood and by default then his own would be quite disappointing, palate-wise. Regardless, pain! No thank you. Running, running, 'ROSE!'ing, more running, more 'ROSE!'ing. And thank god for sonic screwdrivers and throwing his mind wide open to her particular signature - even though, ow, he wouldn't be doing that again anytime soon - because there she... was? He felt her here. But couldn't see her around that pile o---

High powered sonicking gets the most of them away, he thinks. A bit of actual physical violence takes care of the others - and, wow, he hadn't done that in a while. His Aikido's more than a bit rusty, it's practically rusted away by now. Oh well. Off the point.

Rose. Bleeding, far... far too much. Murmuring something he can't quite make out but has a pretty good idea of anyway. He leaves the sonic on a setting blasting outward around them for a few minutes - easier prey elsewhere, lads, move along - and pulls her into his arms and lap. 'Rose. I'm so sorry.'

She'd just popped out to pick up some biscuits. It was going to be a fifteen minute trip and don't be daft, of course she'd be fine on her own. It's definitely missing by their definition of the word. In retrospect, attached at the hip would have been a much better option.

There's no use letting them have a bite to figure out that his blood wasn't what they wanted. Running was an excellent choice of actions, as was the 'Rose!'ing, had she been aware enough to respond with the appropriate 'Doctor!'ing.

They'll have to practice more self defense in the future. Particularly here in the City where they're likely to need it more than just the running they tend to need while traveling.

And then he's there. He's there and she knows it's going to be all right. There's so much pain and everything hurts so much, it's faded into this general sort of numb 'ow'. She winces when he pulls her into his arms, but that's okay. She tries to smile at him, probably looking a bit morbid with the amount of blood and damage.

"My Doctor. Knew you'd find me."

And she's trying to smile there and he's really not going to be able to hold it together very much at all, is he? This amount of blood? She should already be unconscious, maybe even dead. Breathing, that little smile she's giving him that's making his hearts start to shatter like safety glass, just waiting for the next hit - it shouldn't be possible. That smile. It shouldn't be. But he forces one of his own because he'll be damned if he's going to waste it on an existential argument when it's clearly right there anyway.

'Yeah. Yeah, 'course I would. Always do.' Not usually too late though. Or at least, this much too late. He sniffs a bit, cradling her and trying not to jostle her too much without letting her be any further away from him than she absolutely has to be.

It's okay. She's too far gone to really realize whether he's holding it together or not. He's here, that's all she cares about. She's trying to hold onto him because he feels like he's getting further away from her. Her fingers won't work and her arms are heavy. She finally settles for just sort of letting them flop wherever they may, a bit like a rag doll's arms. It's hard to talk, hard to breathe and she's so tired.

"Tired. Might have to carry me home." Her brow furrows because there's so much bright red on his shirt and smeared across his suit jacket and for a second she can't remember why there's so much blood. "You're hurt."

But that doesn't sound right. She doesn't think he's hurt. There's a twinge of pain that makes it past all the numbness and shock blood loss has brought and she remembers. "Gettin' your suit dirty."

That's good, because he does break a little when she says that he might have to carry her, and then again when she suddenly gets concerned for his own well-being. As far as he can tell, she's just straight up dying and he wasn't there to protect her. More than he hasn't been there to protect her in the past. His throat is tight and there's some sort of rock in his chest but he nods a little.

'Figured Cinna could do with the work. Needed a new one anyway; you're just giving me a better excuse.' And she's already in his lap but in order to pick her up he's going to have to move them both again. 'Are you all right? If I shift a bit?'

Yeah, she's pretty much straight up dying, but when has that ever changed her desire to make certain her Doctor was safe? She doesn't blame him for not being there to protect her. She wasn't fast enough to get away from them.

"Just like this one." She braces herself for the moving, holding her breath--and really it takes less effort to hold her breath than it does to breathe. "Just don't let go."

He nods, suddenly finding it very, very difficult to speak, before slowly but efficiently shifting her into a carrying position and then hoisting the pair of them into a standing position, her in his arms and he on his feet.

'I'm not letting do.' And because he knows that was painful, he wants to distract her. 'So what did you do today? Before all this r-ridiculousness.'

She bites her bottom lip hard to avoid wincing when he gets to his feet with her in his arms. It doesn't work very well. There's a wince and a tiny noise of pain she can't hold back.

The distraction is appreciated and it's a particularly good one because she has to think about it. Thinking takes a good deal of concentration right now. Her head feels like it's going to float up off her body, it's so light. She leans her head against his shoulder, beyond caring about the blood she's getting on him.

"A...that show that..." She tries to take a deep breath and it comes up shallow, rattling in what's left of her ribcage. "It was a book. Old book and I was s'posed to get biscuits. Sorry, lost the biscuits somewhere."

He is focusing very intently on moving quickly, efficiently, and smoothly, so he doesn't have the energy to hear how laboured her breathing is, or any hitches in her breath when he doesn't quite manage to counteract inertia well enough and jostles her, or see her face contorting out of the corner of his eye.

'You watched a show and read a book? Or just the book?' Because pointing out the semantics right now and being nit-picky will hopefully force more logic into the conversation, which is a good way to force out the emotion.

'I don't think I really need any more biscuits right now anyway. We haven't done enough running in a while now.'

It's okay, logic makes a better distraction really. She takes a moment to answer him, her voice weak and strained.

"Just the show. S'bout a book. Can't remember it."

She goes quiet for a moment, not quite breathing for a couple of seconds. She finally draws a rattling, wheezing breath. "Got to start runnin' more."

Because she wasn't fast enough this time.

Yeah, okay, no, he's just gonna let his face get a little wet okay because fuck.

'Rose you should stop trying to talk. Conserve your breath and energy, okay? We'll be there soon and I'll be able to help.' With... something. He'll just fix it, all right? He's the Doctor. He fixes things. If he can't fix things then what good is he.

It's okay, Doctor. She's far from thinking about that sort of thing and later, if she does remember he cried, it'll only get him extra hugs. She's beyond crying right now. She's simply trying to breathe and in some way, comfort him.

"Good--idea, Doctor."

Her brows knit together and she struggles to take a slightly deeper breath. It takes a few seconds, breath rattling in, wheezing and then rattling out. After a moment she finally speaks again, but her voice is just a whisper.

"I love you."

Edited (wrong icon) 2012-06-09 03:38 (UTC)

He hears her struggle and he assumes it's just to take in a full breath, that those are difficult now, and his face gets wetter even as he steels himself against what's appearing increasingly inevitable.

Her admission, 'I love you' is entirely his undoing, and he can't quite hold back the sob that time coming out halfway and them muffled - quietly to himself. After. He can cry all he wants to, but he has to wait.

Instead, he falls back on the familiar.

'Quite right, to.'

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