Shards of his Hearts (9th Doctor x Rose)

The Doctor doesn't let Rose see his pain. He hides it behind goofy grins and sarcasm, letting her heal him a little each day when she held his hand. But that doesn't mean that the nightmares have gone away. On the rare occation that he sleeps, they torment him beyond belief. That's what happened tonight, as he wakes up with a blood curtiling scream. He cliched the scar embeded on his chest as he bolted upright on the bed, a cold sweat covering his face. He suddenly covered his mouth, hoping desperatly that Ros didn't hear him. 

Rose laid on the bed that she had slept on many times before as she traveled with The Doctor. Yet, this time, She couldn't sleep. She laided there calmly waiting for sleep to greet her like it normally did. Hour after hour passed and no one showed up. Sighing deeply, she got up from the bed, her legs swinging over the edge of the bed. She thought about walking through the halls of the TARDIS until she got tired. She run her hands through her blonde hair before standing up. She was only able to take a few steps to the door when she heard that percing cry of a man. Her blood ran ice cold. That scream was the Doctor's. Waisting no time, Rose threw open her door, taking off down the hall to the Doctor's room. Throwing his door open, she shouted "Doctor, Are you alright?!" 

He hurriedly pulled the comforter up to hide the scar, looking at her in shock. He felt very vulnerable without the comforting armor of his leather jacket. He ran one hand through his hair and over the rough, dark stubble that started to apper through the night. "Rose..." He whispered quietly. "M'Sorry. Did I wake you?" He tried not to think of the implications of her standing there, the face that she'd more then likly ask what was wrong. He questions if he might be able to tell her the answer...He might risk driving her away. 

She shook her head "No, I was already awake." She paused, watching his face. Even though he tried to hide it, The Doctor looked disgruntled. He was covering something up. "Did you have a nightmare?" She asked, removing herself from the doorway by taking a few steps forward. She was in a gray pair of baggy sweatpants, with a slightly baggy shirt with a Union Jack on it. It was a diifrent styled shirt then what she had on when they went to WWII London. 

He nodded, trying not to give too much away. He couldn't tell her about it. She might never look at him the same way again. "Yes, I did. But It's alright now." Though it wasn't- not really-  beacuse it hadn't been just a nightmare. Inside his dream, he relived the past. The monster inside terroized him, whispering to him of what he done or didn't do. Even when he woke, the monster that plaged him was still there, for that monster was himself. 

"From what I heard, you're not alright. You're far from it." She spoke back, her eyes looking at him with concern. She remembered the scream that echoed again in her eardrums. The scream had mixed emotions deep with them that he won't open up about. His anger for his actions. Regret for the things he could have done. Fear from his own inner darkness. Taking another few steps, she asked "Was it about your past?" 

"I's rather not talk about it." He sternly, but quietly. He hoped that she would just leave it at that. He hated to bring up the topic or even talk about it. The constant reply reel inside him mind. 'Nobody loves a monster' He reminded himself. He was sure of this. So sure that he knew that if he trully told her what happened, it would drive the woman he so loved away from him. 

She decided to be bold. Her bare feet made little sounds as she walked over beside him, reaching out her right hand. She rested her palm over his hand that held the comforter over his chest. Over his heart. It was ironic. Even though the blanket physicaly covered his heart, she thought that he held up much more defences then a simple comfoter. Under the skin, he had brick walls, barbed wire, and fences. Anything that could be used to keep people out. "Doctor," She paused for continuing "...What are you afriad of.?" 

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for what felt like a long moment, wondering just how he'd go about saying what he needed to say...if he could say it. When he slowly opened his eyes again, there were angry tears inside of them. The Doctor tried hide tears away, hoping that Rose would see them.. "I'm afriad of myself...," He whispered. "Of could I've done...and could still do."