He Needed Me

Chapter 4

Rose stared up and up at the mountain of clothes and almost literally forgot how to breathe. Yes, she’d used the washer for the bed sheets and clothes he’d been wearing but she hadn’t noticed this at the time. Too much on her mind. Oh, but now she was noticing it. She sighed softly and shook her head, taking off her hoodie and pulling her hair back. Best to just get it over with. Good thing the washer and dryer were super fast, no doubt the Doctor’s doing.

The Doctor was out in the console room, tinkering and she left him to it. After their tearful reunion they’d fallen quickly back into step, the Doctor confessing there were a few things he needed to finish up before they could leave. At least, she thought that was what he’d said. He’d been stuttering so badly it was hard to tell before he’d ducked out into the corridor, with her comforter. After more than two years she was more than excited to finally be traveling with him again.

Separating everything into piles first she examined each article for tears, throwing those into a corner for either repairing or garbage. Each shirt pocket was carefully searched for anything he might have left behind, putting all of those things in a laundry basket. She shook her head as the number of object in the basket started to grow. It should be criminal for someone as absent minded as the Doctor to have nearly bottomless pockets.

She’d barely made a dent but there were enough searched shirts for a first load and she dumped them in with bleach and detergent before starting the cycle. Picking up a discarded jacket, she smirked a little to realize he had several pinstriped suits of the same color. Reading on the label that it was for dry cleaning, she dug around the pockets, frowning to realize she only found an old sheet of paper in this one.

Paling, she realized this was the letter from Reinette and hastily folded it, adding it to the pile as she slung the suit over a drying rack. She remembered that day as if it had just happened. Mentally, she knew he’d had to go. Had to strand her and Mickey and even himself to save Madam de Pompadour. Didn’t make it any easier to think about. She hastily wiped at a tear and went back to sorting, not seeing a figure peek inside. The repairs were all done, they were off when his companion was ready. The Doctor grinned a bit, a bit more bounce in his step at seeing Rose doing the laundry. A thoroughly domestic act if ever there was one but a familiar sight that made him happy down to the bottom of his soul.

In the back of his mind he silently hoped she hadn’t a clue why he’d retreated so fast. Her kiss was everything he’d dreamed of. Unfortunately it had awakened the rest of his anatomy and Rose discovering that would only have served to thoroughly embarrass him. But she hadn’t seemed inclined to ask and he was certainly never telling.

Hands shoved in his pockets, he tread over to the laundry basket on silent feet and took a peek at all the little things he’d left behind. An old yo-yo. Scraps of candy wrappers and bits of wire. An entire jar of marmalade. Hey, his green bouncy ball. He’d been looking for that. An old pair of sunglasses...could have used those when he’d been traveling with Martha fighting against that sun creature. He frowned a bit at the folded parchment and scooped it up, opening the obvious letter and reading it over, freezing when he realized what it was and who it was from. It was Reinette saying goodbye.

He folded the bit of paper back over, not sure what to do with it but glancing at Rose when she started talking to herself, “...he had to do it now stop being so silly, Rose. I mean, she was beautiful and you practically told him to do something...so what if he stranded you in the 51st century...not like there was a choice and it was really only a few hours...” Wincing to himself at the bitterness in her voice, knowing exactly what was bugging her, he folded the letter a second time and came up behind her. She turned to throw in a few marbles and jumped back in startlement, “Doctor!” Smacking his shoulder lightly, refusing to look up at him, “You startled me ya great git.” She tossed the marbles in before going back to his shirts, moving them to the dryer before adding a second load to the wash. He just silently watched her, her back to him as she seemed to be trying to compose herself before giving him a cheeky grin that was completely fake and if he hadn’t been watching her so closely he wouldn’t have noticed that, “See what ya need me for...can’t do a bit of laundry yourself, eh?” She stretched one article to him hanging from a finger, “Make all your companions fold your pants?” He blushed hotly and snatched them away from her finger, tossing them aside and running a hand through his hair. She tugged on her lip with her teeth, “I’m just havin’ ya on.”

His arms crossed a bit, uncomfortable now but willing to tell her, to make her understand, “I’m nearly a thousand years old, Rose, I know how to wash my clothes.” Her grin widened, hazel eyes glancing at years upon years worth of laundry and silently calling him a liar. She shook her head a bit and reached for some socks, “At the very least after six months I would have been desperate for shirts, instead I go to the trouble of getting new ones.”

She grinned cheekily, “So why didn’t ya throw the dirty ones out?”

“Because I know how to use the wash, I just chose not to.” She rolled her eyes a bit and shook her head at him, “The suits have to be dry cleaned.” She froze, “Whites separate from darks. Shirts need a bit of starch, set on hot but the darks can be hot or cold. Have to be dried separately as well or the colors might bleed together, permanent press usually the best cycle.”

She was staring at him now, an almost perturbed look crossing her face, “So you want your own personal human slave for your washing, is that it?”

He ignored her, knowing if anything she was trying to lighten his serious mood since he could see the grin tugging at her lip. But he forced himself not to take the easy out and remain serious just a bit longer. It was important she knew how vital she was in his life, “I haven’t washed a stitch of clothing since you left, nearly 3 years ago, because if I did it meant you weren’t coming back.”

Shock raced across her face. It had only two or so for her, “Wha-...”

He studied his converses, “I took a break after I lost you. Saved Donna and after that...I just shut down for a while.” Squinting a bit, “I think it was a year...maybe more...closer to two than not...had to be something like that before I was off... wandering here and there and- right, then I met Martha and...” He paled and visibly shrank a little, something within that memory upsetting him terribly.

Putting a gentle hand on his chest, “How long you been on yer own?”

He shrugged, “That’s not the point, Rose.”

“I know. How long?”

Sighing but knowing she wasn’t going to budge, “I had Martha with me for almost a year...” Then he just shrugged it away as he did everything else. Two years on his own. She was horrified he’d been alone for so long. She’d known his previous regeneration had been on his own for a while before he’d met her but this newer him was different. He needed someone looking after him, worse than his brooding other self had.

She took a step, “Doctor-...”

He shook his head to clear it. He didn’t back away, but his expression was firm, “Let me just say this Rose. Please? You...I need you to understand this.” After a moment she nodded in acquiescence. He searched the ceiling for a minute before a grin tugged at the corner of his lip, “I remember taking a nap up in the console room once back when we first started traveling together. Just after we defeated the Slitheen and I’d just finished up a few repairs. Woke up to find a pillow under my head, leather jacket gone, along with my socks and shoes. Found the black leather cleaned in here and the socks folded on top, shoes by the door.”

She shrugged and mumbled shyly, “You looked uncomfortable and your jacket was all dusty.”

He grinned a bit, “I didn’t complain now did I, you silly ape?” Her eyes met his in reference to his previous regeneration’s nickname for humans and his grin widened, “I also took to leaving my clothes anywhere and everywhere, didn’t I? Socks here, jumper there...I wasn’t that forgetful back then and I never did until after that day.” Her mouth opened in surprise, “Same with this regeneration. Tie here, shirt there...” He sighed, “You wanted to feel useful, Rose and I knew that. What you didn’t know was it made me feel good. I...I felt cared for. Safe. Hadn’t felt that way since the war and you did that, Rose. You made that daft old me feel like I can trust you, and I believed it. I still believe it.” He pulled in another breath, “After my regeneration, I thought a bit. You did for me what I’ve always had to do for everyone else. You saved me from the Daleks, you took care of me when my regeneration went wrong, you protected me from those pilot fish and you shuffled me to safety from the invasion.” He reached forward and cupped her face, letting the letter flutter to the ground, “Rose Tyler, defender of the world, can take care of herself. I knew if I was stranded in Versales you would find a way to save me. You’re the only thing I believe in Rose, please never doubt that.” He glanced down at the paper, “She wanted to see the stars and I was excited because she was...but she could never, ever replace you.” He searched her eyes, seeing her relax in his grasp before smiling slowly, “So, keep the letter or burn it, either way I don’t want it.”

Nuzzling his palm with her cheek, “Alright. Why don’t you take your toys out for a sorting while I start the next load.”

He backed away, scratching at his ear before grinning, “Right!” Picking up the basket, he paused and glanced at her over his shoulder, “You don’t have to do that if you don’t want, Rose.” His eyes flicked to the pile of wash, dreading having to do it himself.

She smiled softly, “I never do anything because I have to now get.” He gave her a brilliant smile and bounced out the door and she silently watched him go before glancing down at the letter. Standing a little taller, looking down her nose at the note as if it were the woman, “He’s mine so ha!” Then she felt incredibly silly for gloating at a dead woman’s handwriting and went about the next load, all the while smiling to herself.