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Hello all! Ages ago, the lovely [livejournal.com profile] mariannelawson requested Part VI of Both. As usual, I failed and completely forgot. I'm blaming life and my bad memory, but she's more than welcome to blame me. So here it is. Hope you guys enjoy.


This was possibly my most difficult chapter to write. There was so much emotion I needed to fit in, so much anger and hurt. But, it being the last chapter, I needed it to end with something that at least resembled hope. What you have here is my best effort.

 

Waiting is never fun and it can be absolute torture when the man you’re in love with has run off, you’ve no idea where to find him, and he doesn’t want to be found. Rose has spent the past several hours learning this lesson. She has rung his mobile so many times that the number of missed calls is embarrassing, but she is past the point of caring. She’s beginning to worry. 

There is nothing quite as scary as not knowing where a loved when is and not being able to get in touch with them. In Rose’s case, it’s even worse, because she knows the Doctor has likely left her.

 

Surely, if he was leaving her for good, he’d have taken his things, the bags he left in the living room, his laptop, his journal at the very least. But he’s been gone all day. No one has seen him, or at least she’s pretty sure they haven’t. She’d given her mum and Pete a tentative call earlier, pretended like everything was fine, but they hadn’t mentioned him.

He packed his bags that morning because he had full intentions of leaving. Did he leave them there for Rose to see or simply because he didn’t want to carry them around while house hunting? I think it’s a little of both.

 

So now, with everything else that’s been going on, she’s now also saddled with the worry that perhaps he’s been hurt, or worse.

If you’re anything of a worrier like me, you can think of at least ten ways people you love can be hurt.

 

She keeps telling herself over and over that it’s a good thing that he hasn’t come back for his things yet, that perhaps he’s just taking some time to cool off, to figure things out. If he’d gotten his things, then that would mean that he’s made his decision, and that decision would be the one she doesn’t want.

 

She tries to keep herself busy. She straightens the living room, puts a load of laundry in the machine, even loads the dishwasher (her least favourite thing to do). She makes some dinner. She’s not hungry, hasn’t eaten all day and has no intention to eat, but she reasons that perhaps he’ll come home and want something to eat. She lets the meal sit out for a half hour, plate and cup sitting next to the stove, just waiting for him, but when he still doesn’t show, she boxes it up and puts it in the refrigerator.

This type of scene shows up a lot in my stories. I always imagine Rose puttering around when she’s upset or waiting. Although there’s never been anything in canon to suggest she’s like this, I just can’t imagine her sitting still. Also, there’s something so lonely and desperate about her fixing him dinner only to have him not come home to eat it.

 

The silence in the flat is threatening to drive her mad, yet she can’t bring herself to turn on the television or radio. Neither would bring the kind of sound she wants.

 

It’s getting late, past eleven, and she is tired. It’s been a long, miserable day, and she’d love to curl up in the bed and fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. She doesn’t do it. Instead, she finds a blanket and stretches out on the sofa. She wants to be there if he comes in, wants him to know that she is not moving on without him, that she’s going to fight for him.

 

She lies there, trying not to watch the clock, trying not to let the tears fall, having success with neither, until she drifts into a fitful sleep.

This scene makes me so sad. Rose finally knows what she wants, but she’s helpless to do anything about it.

 

 

 

She wakes at the sound of quiet footsteps across the kitchen floor. When she opens her eyes, he is hovering in the doorway, watching her. He doesn’t say anything.

 

“Hey,” she says, her voice rough with sleep. She pushes herself up on her elbows, her eyes blinking to focus in the dim light coming from the foyer.

 

“Hey,” he answers back, his eyes not meeting hers. “You didn’t have to wait up.”

 

She shakes her head. “It’s fine. I wanted to.” She pushes herself the rest of the way up until she is sitting, the blanket falling from her shoulder and puddling in her lap.

 I wanted this to come off as kind of awkward, kind of confused, as Rose is still half-asleep.

 

He reaches to his side, clicks the light off, and they are back in darkness. “I’m going to bed,” he says, his voice sounding hollow and tired.

He doesn’t know what to say to her at this point.

 

“Wait,” she says, getting to her feet, struggling to get untangled from the blanket that’s wrapped itself around her legs. “Where have you been?”

 

He pauses. She can’t really see him, can only make out his movements in the little bit of light that’s coming in through the windows. “Just out.” He’s moving again, heading toward the bedroom.

 

She feels the tears build up in the back of her throat, making her chest hurt. “Please,” she whispers, wondering if it’s even loud enough for him to hear.

 

It is. He stops and turns back to the living room. “What?” His tone is impatient; he’s never quite sounded like that before with her, like he has no care for what she says, but she knows she deserves it.

I stressed over this. I can’t really imagine him being mean to her, yet at the same time, she betrayed his trust and his love, so naturally he’s going to feel angry. It’s only fair if he takes it out on her a little.

 

She falters. It’s not that she thought he’d be receptive to her, but he’d come home, and she thought that maybe he might be willing to work things out. No, she tells herself. She can’t allow herself to think that way, can’t put any of this on him. This is all her. It’s up to her to fix this; he shouldn’t have to do anything, shouldn’t be responsible for any of it. 

I wanted to make sure that it was very clear that Rose understands that she is responsible for what has happened. Of course, the other Doctor is responsible too, but he’s out of the picture.

 

He’s standing there watching her, waiting, but she doesn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry,” she finally says, partially because that’s all she can think of and partially because it’s the most important. She knows the words alone aren’t enough, aren’t nearly what he deserves, but she’s tired, emotional, and it’s all she’s got.

Readers commented several times that Rose never apologised. She didn’t because it wasn’t the right time. She’s only saying it now when she realises the weight of what she’s done, and how she has made the wrong choice.

 

He sighs, a long, weary exhalation. “Do you want to know what I did today, Rose?” he asks, moving back into the room.

 

She reaches behind her, feels around on the little end table until she feels the switch of the lamp and turns it on. It’s only been a day, but she feels like she hasn’t seen him in ages, and the need to look at him is overwhelming. He looks tired, pale and thin, and his eyes are sad. She wants to wrap him up in her arms and hold him until everything is fixed.

We don’t see anything from the Doctor’s POV, but trust me, he’s been going through hell these past few days.

 

“What did you do?” she asks, putting thoughts of touching him out of her mind.

 

“I went out to find a flat.” His words are low, but in the quiet apartment they echo like a shout.

 

She looks down. She’s been preparing herself for this all day, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. It seems he’s made his decision, and he’s a stubborn man. She can try to change his mind, but it’s likely there won’t be anything she can do.

 

He sits down on the sofa, but on the opposite end, nowhere near enough to suggest he wants to be touched.

 

“I know what I’ve done is unforgivable,” she says, rallying her strength. He might be stubborn and he might be convinced they’re over, but she’s not going to let him go without trying as hard as she can to get him back. “But I want you to know that I realised something through all this. You’re not him.”

 

“Rose,” he says, holding his hand up. She realizes then the error of her words, what he must think.

 

“No, not like that. I mean that I’ve realised that you’re the one I want. He’s a good man, but he’s not you. You give me what I want.” She leans forward, feeling like her words are coming out all wrong, like she can’t find the exact words to convey what she’s feeling, what she’s realised.

It’s always difficult to say the right thing when you’ve made a huge mistake and you feel like everything is on the line.

 

He doesn’t move. “Don’t you see though, Rose?” She doesn’t like the way he keeps using her name. “I’m glad that you’ve realised that I’m what you want, thrilled actually, but I don’t know if it’s enough.”

This is the crux of the matter.

 

“How can it not be enough?” she asks.

 

He pushes a hand through his hair. “Because you couldn’t just know that, on your own. You had to go with him, be hurt by him, pushed away by him, before you decided you wanted me. I could want chocolate more than anything in the world, but if you tell me I’m never going to have it and all I can have is caramel, then yeah, I’d take the caramel. But only because I couldn’t have the chocolate.”

These last couple of sentences are possibly the stupidest thing I’ve ever written

 

She wrinkles her brow, not following.

 

He smiles at her, and it’s weak, but it’s still a smile, and she latches on to it, reading all the hope into it that she can. “It’s a horrible analogy, I know,” he says. “But the point of it is true. You only want me because you can’t have him.”

 

She shakes her head. She doesn’t know how to convince him, because from the outside, the situation is exactly how he’s presented it. The other Doctor cannot give her what she wants, and she has decided that she wants the man before her. If this were a situation where they both wanted her, both wanted to give her everything, then she would be able to make a more honest choice, a choice that would leave no doubt in his mind as to who she really wants. But it’s not like that, and all she has now are words.

This really is Rose’s dilemma, and it’s something that she will spend the rest of her life trying to rectify. She knows that she wants him with all of her heart, but she feels like she can never quite convince him, even when he tells her otherwise

 

“It’s not like that,” she says, her voice pleading. “I know that’s what it looks like, and I know I’ve made a huge mistake, going with him like I did, but you have to believe me, you’re the one that I want.”

 

“You say that now, Rose,” he says, pulling his eyes away from her to look out the window. “But how do I know that you wouldn’t be with him right now if he’d offered to take you with him?”

 

She looks down, clutching the blanket in her hands. “You don’t know. And there’s nothing I can say to prove it.”

I wanted to make her honest here.

The edge of her blanket lies between them on the couch, and he reaches out tentatively, fingering the soft cotton. “I don’t know what to do.”

I love this little gesture by him. It’s tentative, but I think it shows that he does not want to leave her, no matter how badly she’s hurt him.

 

“Forgive me,” she pleads. “I know I’ve been horrible, but I want to make it up to you. I’ve been thinking a lot today, not just about the past couple of days, but about how it’s been since you got here. I haven’t been fair to you. I haven’t been what you need.” She’s crying now; she can’t help it. She feels awful, and she’s so desperate to keep him with her that she can’t control the tears.

I know she’s done something awful, but my heart goes out to Rose here. She’s screwed up, and she knows it, but she feels helpless to fix it.

 

“Hey, none of that,” he says, his voice gentle. He reaches out and brushes the tips of her fingers and her heart stops at the contact.

Possibly my favourite moment in this chapter. There’s something so sweet about the way he tentatively comforts her.

 

“I’m sorry,” she says, sniffling and wiping her eyes. She doesn’t want him to think that she’s trying to influence him. If he’s willing to take her back, she wants things to be different this time, more equal.

 

He just shakes his head, and she reaches out and holds onto his fingers tightly.

 

“I want to be what you need,” she says, looking him in the eye, using everything she has to let him know that she is sincere. “I let you take care of me, but I haven’t done the same for you. I got so wrapped up in what I’d lost that I didn’t see how much you lost. And I didn’t notice everything I had, I didn’t realise that you were actually what I’ve needed. I’ve been selfish.”

I wanted to make it clear that Rose not only realises that she shouldn’t have cheated, but also that she needs to be there for this Doctor, that she was neglecting him before any of this happened.

 

He tilts his head. “As I’ve said, Rose, I’m glad that you’ve realised this. But that doesn’t change what you had to do to realise all of this. Why couldn’t you figure it out on your own?”

 

“I don’t know,” she says, frustrated, tears threatening to make a reappearance. “I mean, he kept telling me that the two of you were the same, that day on the beach, and I believed him. And he was out there, lonely, and there are two of you and not two of me. I hated the thought of him being alone.”

This is what makes it able for me to forgive Rose-she’s been told they’re the same man, and no matter what happens, there will always be two of them that she loves. There’s nothing she can do about it. This is why she did what she did.

 

He pulls his hand away from hers, stands up, and goes to the window. “And what’s to keep you away from him, the next time he shows up needing you?”

 

She grips her knees, leans forward. “I’ve ended it with him. I told him today, told him that you are the one I want.”

 

He turns back toward her and even in the dark she can see his eyes flashing. “I want to believe you, Rose, I really do. But I don’t know what to feel.”

 

“I—“ she starts, but he cuts in. 

 

“No, you’ve had your say, and now it’s my turn.” He moves away from the window, and paces the short span of their living room. He watches her for a moment, until she nods, and then he goes on. “I went out this morning with every intention of leaving you, of finding myself a new place, and making an attempt at finding my own life. But every place I looked at, there was something wrong. The carpets were wrong, the kitchen was too small, there were too few windows. At first, I thought it was normal, that anybody looking for a new flat would be picky. But then I realised that I don’t care about those sorts of things. I was just looking for an excuse to put off moving out.”

Poor Doctor...she’s hurt him so badly, and still he can’t leave her. She’s all he has.

 

“Then that’s good right?” she asks.

 

He shakes his head, his shoulders tense. “I don’t know, Rose. I don’t know. It’s like I don’t know what to feel. I’m hurt that I wasn’t enough, and I’m so angry at you, for what you did, for letting him back in like that. But then I’m still so in love with you I can’t breathe. The thought of not being with you makes me feel sick. Why did you do this to me? Why couldn’t you just be happy with us?” His hands clench and unclench. His voice is quiet, almost on the verge of tears.

This literally breaks my heart. He’s loved her so unconditionally, and he’s stuck. He can’t be without her. As I said, she’s all he has, all he wants, all he knows. He almost has no choice to stay with her. Yet he feels like he’s not enough for her.

 

She’s quiet now, regret and guilt and a breaking heart. She doesn’t attempt to hold back the tears rolling down her cheeks. She wishes that she could take it all back, but she can’t. And she doesn’t know how to fix it. “I’m so sorry,” she says.

 

“I know,” he says, turning toward her, his eyes large. “I know that you are. But sorry doesn’t make everything better, sorry doesn’t make the feelings go away.”

 

“So what are you going to do now?” she whispers.

 

He collapses down onto the sofa, drops his head into his hands. “I don’t know. I can’t live with you and I can’t live without you. A horrible, clichéd paradox, isn’t it?” He lets out a bitter laugh.

I was really hoping this didn’t come out sounding like the U2 song. I almost had the Doctor reference it, but then decided against it.

 

She doesn’t say anything. She wants to reach out a hand and touch his shoulder, offer him some small measure of comfort, but she doesn’t. He’s not ready for that.

 

He exhales slowly, then sits up. His hair stands on end, the victim of his worrying fingers. She holds her breath; her fate is in his hands.

 

“I think,” he says, “that I should move into my workshop for a little while.”

 

“Are you leaving me then?” She feels like she might be sick now, her ears ringing and her head dizzy.

 

“No, not right now,” he says. “I think that maybe we should try to get to know each other again. For real this time. I need you to love me, to want me for me, not because I’m a shadow of him. And I need time for this anger to dull.”

Here’s where Mending was born

 

She nods. It’s not much, what he’s offering, but it’s better than the alternative. And he’s right. She does need to see him for the man he is, not for the man he was. She needs time to become the woman that he needs.

Rose has grown up so much over the course of this fic.

 

“I’m going to make this up to you,” she promises, her voice low, but her words firm. She brushes the tears from her cheeks; she knows that she’s not done crying for the night, but she has to hold herself together. She can’t manipulate him. She needs to make this about him, about what he needs. “If it takes me the rest of our lives, I’ll prove to you that you are the only one I want.”

 

He nods then, but his eyes are wary. He reaches forward, touches her cheek, rubs his thumb across the tears there. His hands are trembling against her skin. She leans into his touch, wishing for more, but she’ll take what she can get. He leans forward and she breathes in his scent, spicy and sweet, as he presses his lips to her forehead. And then he leans back, moving back to his side of their sofa.

Another reason why this is my second favourite chapter of this story. (I’ll let you guess the first). This little moment between them is so sweet, but so sad. It’s almost like he’s saying goodbye to her, even though he’s not really leaving her. It’s like they’re having a last moment together.

 

“I made you some dinner,” she says, hating to disrupt the fragile quiet between them. “If you’re hungry.” It’s not much, she knows that, but she hopes that it’s a little something.

 

He nods, but makes no move to get up.

 

They sit there in silence for an interminable time, she on one end of the sofa, he on the other, staring out the window, waiting for the sun to rise on a future that is going to be a long road, rough and winding, but still glimmering with a little bit of hope.


 
 

I’m still not quite pleased with the wording of this ending. It’s a little clunky to me. But I wanted it to end with a little ray of hope, something to let everyone know that it was going to be okay. Even though I had intentions to do a sequel, I wanted this one to be able to stand on its own.




Date: 2009-09-19 07:36 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hazelwho.livejournal.com
So this is like the fifth time I've read this chapter, and this bit just kills me ever single time:
“I’m hurt that I wasn’t enough, and I’m so angry at you, for what you did, for letting him back in like that. But then I’m still so in love with you I can’t breathe. The thought of not being with you makes me feel sick. Why did you do this to me? Why couldn’t you just be happy with us?”
I have tears streaming down my face from the heartbreak that is the Doctor in this chapter. Ouch.

I absolutely loved this bit of your commentary:
It’s almost like he’s saying goodbye to her, even though he’s not really leaving her. It’s like they’re having a last moment together.
That's exactly what it is; that was the end of how they used to be. There's a big line drawn through their history now, and it's never ever going to be the same again. I never understood why that moment where he touches her face seems so sad until I read this.

Also, have I told you lately how much I love these commentaries? Cos I do. Even if you made me cry. A lot. (And it's not even pretty crying, with the tears artfully sliding down my cheeks. I've got the runny nose, red eyes, sore throat crying going on here.) Are there any more of these, or is this the last one?

Date: 2009-09-20 03:31 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] wishiknewwho.livejournal.com
Wow. *blushes* I'm flattered that you've read this so much. That line is one of the most heartbreaking things I've ever had to write. I was a little teary as I wrote it.

I'm so glad you were drawn to that little gesture as well. It's probably my favorite part in this entire chapter.

It's good that you've been liking the commentaries. Because it seems I'll be doing a few more.

Date: 2009-09-19 08:13 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] salimali.livejournal.com
*sniff* even reading the commentary you managed to make me cry
:(


I now think you need to do a commentary for every other chapter of Both and Mending that haven't already been done *wink*

Date: 2009-09-20 03:29 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] wishiknewwho.livejournal.com
Cheeky girl! Next you'll be asking for commentaries on the commentary. ;)

You know I'd do anything for you, my darling.

Date: 2009-09-20 11:35 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mariannelawson.livejournal.com
love it love it love it thanks mate soo glad you got round to it

it's ace this story will always be a fav of mine as it got me a new and ace friend in you

and i've not stopped reading your storys ever since

this chapter also has special memorys of me being in a cardiff hotel and texting my friend to read it as she hadn't realised it was up and then having a text chat with her all about it
it most of been at least 10 texts worth
thanks again hun soo gladl you did it
marianne

Date: 2009-09-26 03:44 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] wishiknewwho.livejournal.com
You're very welcome. Sorry I made you wait so long for it.

I'm glad it has special memories for you, and I feel honored that you found it worthy of so many texts. *blushes*

Thanks for always reading and commenting.

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