The Queen and the Rose

Chapter 14

"Rose," his voice came out on a warning note.

"S'fine," she laced her hands together in her lap.  "I should've known it was just the traumatic experience trying to bring us together.  I get it."

He'd said things he couldn't take back, though.  Not because he didn't want to, but because those words belonged to her.  As much as he wanted to make her his in every sense of the word, he was now remembering all the reasons he shouldn't.  They made less sense now, but they were there.

"Did we even know each other, before?"

"Yes," the Doctor said without hesitation, "We travel together."

"That's a bit scandalous," she snapped.

He knew she didn't mean to get angry with him, and he tried to remind himself with that as he continued to try to meet her eyes.  "Not the places we go, it isn't."

"Do I like travelling?"

"I certainly hope so," the Doctor was trying to get her to laugh, but it didn't really appear to be working.  She pursed her lips, very much as though she was trying not to cry, not that she was angry.  He continued, "We've travelled together for almost two years."

"I love you, don't I?" Although she asked it, it wasn't a question.

"I can't tell you what you're feeling, Rose," he said honestly, "I almost never know how to read you."

"And even so, you don't love me."

"Rose, I-"

She covered her face with her hands.  "Never mind," she said, "That's embarrassing, I'm sorry."

He didn't know what to say, so he shifted the topic.  "We're going to get your memory back, Rose."

"Is that even my name? Rose?" She asked softly.  He wished she would look at him.

"Yes," he said with conviction, "Rose is your name."

"And yours?"

"My name is the Doctor," he said.

"That's your real name?" She said disbelievingly. 

The Doctor sighed, "It's the name I chose," he said.

"And your mum didn't name you?"

"It's a very foreign name," he replied dismissively, "No one knows it."

She was quiet, and he could sense that she knew exactly what he was talking about.  Only his bondmate would know his name, and if he had a choice, Rose would be the one to share his name with him.  But his rules taunted him at every turn, and he knew that he would never be allowed to have her. 

He just wanted her to talk again.  She was upset, and for good reason, because of course she was feeling left high and dry.  He wanted to kiss her again.  The urge to do so was almost painful, like he wouldn't be able to breathe without her.

It was truly unfair, how every kiss they'd shared had been stolen.  The Vortex and Cassandra and both of them acting on subconscious.  He wanted to relent.  He wanted to hold her, touch her, keep her as close as possible.  Of course he loved her.  How could he not? 

"I'm sorry," he whispered. 

"Not your fault, is it?" She asked, "Unless it's your fault we got into this mess."

He laughed, but there was no mirth behind it.  "It usually is my fault, when we get into situations like this.  You might not believe this, but we're not servants."

She snorted.  "I assumed."

"And why is that?"

"The second you remembered, you started...  You're acting very dominant,  You know, pack leader sort of thing."

He nodded.  "I think so," he admitted, "That's often how I'm perceived."

"As a leader?"

"As a leader."

She fell silent again, and he didn't want to push her, but he wasn't used to her being so close but also so far from him.  His hand twitched, used to reaching out for her, aching to reach for her. 

"Rose?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry I got you into this."

"S'okay," she said softly.  "We're gonna have a lot to talk about when I get my memory back, aren't we?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "I really think we are."

"I think I do, though."

"What's that, Rose?"  He asked, his confusion evident in his voice.

"I think I really do love you."