Expiration Date

[universaljanitor]

Who: The Tenth Doctor universaljanitor and Rose Tyler recidivus
When: forward dated to Friday night. because of hiatuses and lack of internet access it's going up now
Where: Their apartment of sickness and horror.
Summary: Ten's been sick for a few days, but just in the wee early hours of this morning... his first heart gave out. He knows its only a matter of time, now. But hey. Rose doesn't have to know that, too.
Warnings: SICKNESS AND DEATH AND SADNESS

[There's a thumping from the Doctor's room, from the bed that had been previously unused, but now housed him nearly twenty-four seven. He'd been ill and napping the first few days, dizzy and feverish but pushing through it. But ever since Thursday afternoon, he hadn't been able to get up, no matter how hard he tried. And damnit if he hasn't tried. He's fairly sure both Rose and Jack have held him down a few times, to keep him from falling off the side in an attempt to prove he was fine, but then again that might have been a dream, a nightmare brought on by the heavy, dead feeling inside his chest. The still weight of an unmoving heart.

But when Rose comes in to check the source of the noise, she'll just find the Doctor sitting in bed, laying back against the mess of pillows keeping him propped up, staring mournfully down at the phone on the floor, a phone that had been on the bedside table. Looks like even though the poor thing could barely move, he'd wanted to try and reach someone. To make a post. Ask a question.

Or maybe just try again to convince them that even with his skin looking grey and waxy, with dark circles under his eyes, the draw of skin over sunken cheeks from a few days spent doing nothing but throwing up everything he'd put into it.... that despite all of that, he was fine. He was the Doctor. And he was always fine.]

... Meant to do that.

Comments

[jackedthename]

No. Dammit. [He's racing over now, sprawling beside Rose and shaking the Doctor, for all the good it will do. Predictably enough, it doesn't do a thing.

....That is, except bring back all the memories. All the people he's left to die, all the people that have died because of Jack, because of Torchwood, everyone he's left in the past century and a quarter. If anyone knows what death looks like, it is Jack Harkness, and he grits his teeth and slams his hands down on the side of the bed.]

No. You listen to me, you are not going to leave us like this. Not again.

[recidivus]

[She's only moving marginally over for Jack as he thumps down beside her, shakes him, shouting... It doesn't do a damned thing. She's already choking back tears, gulping breaths that just seem too heavy to take- this isn't right. He's not supposed to die. He's supposed to regenerate, turn into someone new but still him, not leave her- them.]

He can't... Jack, he's not... Why isn't he regenerate? [Because she doesn't...] H-He said.. He said it'd be too much for the stupid core but that's not--!

[jackedthename]

I don't know. [He buries his face in his hands, then -- not crying, no, nothing like that, but just rubbing his face in a mixture of annoyance and frustration and --something to distract himself.]

I don't know, Rose, and I -- dammit.

[recidivus]

[It's only a moment longer before she slumps to the floor, from knees to her bum, one arm still defiantly stuck on the bed, fingers gripping tight to the sleeve of the no-longer-there Time Lord. This wasn't right. He wasn't supposed to just ... die. There was another him- a nextproof that he lived on, and yet... Yet he wasn't. He wasn't regenerating. He was just ... gone.

And for Rose... well, for Jack too, anyone could assume. It was too much. He couldn't leave them. He couldn't just die.]

[hisoldgirl]

[it takes her far longer to reach the flat after Rose's message than she'd have liked. they really should find a place where they're all together. it would certainly save her time running between her Doctors

and time isn't something they have right now]

Doctor? [she doesn't bother knocking, just rushing through the door the moment she gets there, a small satchel in hand with a handful of random items that might help the Doctor, or so she thinks. not that she can help him] Rose? I'm here. Where is he? Let me see!

[meddler]

[ and coming in not too far behind her is a familiar face. The... Doctor. Or rather, the Doctor that is still healthy, and plans on staying that way, even if something like this has struck him down.

He knows he has to survive, because he can't regenerate. he won't regenerate. For all he knows, the whole universe might implode if he allows this to happen.

Or else, he'll have one very upset Rose and TARDIS (and grudgingly... he admits that he really doesn't want him to die). ]

Now, I know we normally don't see eye-to-eye, but he... I'm not going to let anything happen him. I promise you that.

[ . . . ]

Where is he?

[recidivus]

[She's still sitting there, listening to Jack's anger, hurt, tears rolling down her cheeks- she's not making a whole lot of noise. Not this time. There's... just nothing. If he's not regenerating- he's gone. How could he possibly come back from this?

She get up from the sudden voice at the door- voices, now that she thinks about it. The TARDIS and- him.]

In here- [She chokes out, refusing to budge from her spot, knuckles white from gripping, arm tiring from being bent up and over the edge of the mattress like it is.]

[jackedthename]

[Jack's up and pacing by now, though moving a bit slower than he would normally. It might help, he thinks, at least to get his mind off of things.]

We're in here. [He answers, and pokes his head out the doorway.] C'mon.

[hisoldgirl]

[she follows the voices, navigating her way through the flat until she sees Jack's head pop out the doorway. she makes an immediate beeline for him, brushing past with a steely look on her face and going immediately to the bed to look the Doctor over herself

it doesn't look good. not at all. she brushes a lock of hair from his forehead, but otherwise doesn't show much emotion. not outwardly, at least]

How long has it been?