EATER OF SOULS

Chapter Fifteen

The Doctor plopped down on the bed in his room with a satisfied sigh. Granted the bed wasn’t all that comfy. It was made of wood with no mattress and only a neck support for a pillow, but compared to the cold, hard floor of the dungeon, he would take it.

He lay back, trying out the bed and winced, as the hard wood pressed against his wounds making them hurt. He cursed Amenemhet and his soldiers in Gallifreyan and hoped that wherever they were, they were receiving justice for what they did to him and Rose.

He turned his head when he saw Rose standing in the doorway holding a big bowl and a little jar in her hands. He leaned back up, as he stared at her. Her jeans and hoodie were gone and in its place was a long, sheer linen dress that accentuated her body perfectly. The Doctor stared, awestruck, at Rose.

Rose looked at the Doctor. As she stared at the expression on his face, she couldn’t help but remember the time she had worn the Victorian dress and her old Doctor had stared at her the same way. Her heart ached when she remembered his voice saying, “You’re beautiful” in her mind. She loved this Doctor and wouldn’t trade him for the world, but sometimes she missed the old one and wished she could see him again, if only for a moment.

“Oh, my angel…you are a vision.”

On the other hand, her old Doctor was never as open and expressive as this Doctor was which was one of the many things that she loved about him. She smiled her thanks, as the Doctor stared appreciatively.

“There’s no door so I couldn’t knock,” she said, after a moment. “I hope I didn’t interrupt something.”

“Not at all. I was just testing out the bed. And, I wouldn’t expect there to be a door in this house. Only the rich can afford them. Wood isn’t exactly plentiful here; they have to ship it in from neighboring countries,” he said.

He gestured to the bowl and the jar.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“This is stuff to clean you up with. I told you, I’m not about to see you get an infection from those wounds.”

The Doctor groaned.

“Ugh, and just when I got my body to stop hurting too,” he moaned, as Rose came further into the room.

He undid his loincloth and slipped out of it while Rose sat the bowl and jar on a nearby table. She reached into the bowl, which contained water and grabbed a piece of linen cloth that had been soaking in it. She wrung out the excess water, as the Doctor slid onto his stomach and knelt by the bed.

“What’s in the little jar?” The Doctor enquired.

“Some kind of healing ointment. Amisi swears by it, I guess. I’m not sure what’s in it, but she said it’ll heal ya, and at this point, I’m not gonna argue,” she replied.

The Doctor nodded and turning to face Rose, he lay his head down on the bed, as Rose gingerly put the linen cloth against his back.

Rose grimaced when she noticed the Doctor’s pained expression, as she pressed the cloth against his injured body.

“Sorry,” she said.

“It can’t be helped,” the Doctor replied. “Actually, it feels really good now.”

“I’ll be really careful.”

The Doctor smiled.

“I know you will,” He said.

He watched her face, as she slowly cleaned the blood off his back and buttocks. His hearts ached when he saw the pained look in her eyes and raising his hand, he began to stroke her cheek.

“Oh, Doctor,” Rose murmured, as she cleaned the blood off him. “My poor Doctor.”

The Doctor smiled and moved his hand from her cheek to her hair, stroking it.

As she continued to clean his wounds, Rose suddenly felt a compulsion. As a tear fell down her cheek, she leaned forward and gently kissed one of the whip marks. As tears fell down her cheeks, she rained kiss after kiss down on the Doctor’s wounds wishing with all her heart that she could just make them vanish. As she continued to kiss his back, she felt the Doctor’s hand leave her hair and begin to stoke her side.

“Rose,” he whispered.

He laid his hand on her back, as Rose began to weep.

“Shhhh,” he soothed. “Shhhhh, don’t cry.”

“Oh God, Doctor. What if they had killed you?” she sobbed.

“Shhhhh, they didn’t. I’m here,” he replied softly.

Rose regained enough of her composure to continue cleaning his wounds. The Doctor wiped the tearstains away from her face. Then, returning to her back, he began to rub up and down slowly, soothing her with whispered words of love and devotion, as Rose struggled to keep from losing it again.

As she continued to clean, the Doctor raised his head and glanced over his shoulder.

“See, it’s not as bad as it looks,” he said reassuringly. “The dried blood made it look a lot worse than it was.”

“Yeah…I…guess…you’re right,” she said, choking on her words.

Rose sobbed, as the Doctor stroked her cheek.

“It doesn’t even hurt anymore,” he said trying once again to reassure her and stop her tears. “And what you’re doing is making it a thousand times better.”

Rose managed a tiny smile at that. She worked her way down to his buttocks, as the Doctor went back to massaging her back.

The Doctor stared at her face trying to ascertain her thoughts, as Rose put the linen cloth into the water and wrung it out. He could tell just by watching her stare at the whip marks on his buttocks that tormented thoughts were going through her mind. Curiosity finally got the better of him.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

Rose swallowed hard.

“These marks,” she said, in a shaky voice. “Are…gonna be on your body…for the rest of…your life.”

The Doctor ached, as Rose resumed weeping.

“Rose, come here. Come to me,” he gently urged.

“Doctor…”

“Come to me, angel,” he interrupted, grabbing her arm and gently urging her to come closer to his face.

Dropping the cloth back in the bowl, Rose slowly moved on her knees towards the Doctor who was staring at her with a mixture of concern and love. He turned, so that he was lying on his right side, and he embraced Rose, as she fell into his arms, sobbing. Saying nothing, he held her firmly to his chest, as he let the tears run their course. When he heard her begin to calm down, he cleared his throat and spoke.

“The TARDIS med bay has a machine that will help to heal my wounds quickly,” he said softly. “Tomorrow after I eat breakfast here, I will go back to the TARDIS and use it. I want to check and make sure she’s okay, anyhow.”

Rose gulped.

“Will it erase all the injuries from your body?” she asked.

The Doctor laid his cheek on the top of her head.

“It’ll get rid of most of them, yes. But, there will be some scarring. The scars will be faint, but they’ll be there for as long as I have this body.”

He rubbed her back, as she let out a sob.

“Oh God,” she moaned.

The Doctor kissed the top of her head.

“You’re safe, Rose. That’s all that matters. I went through all that to protect you and knowing you escaped from that place unharmed makes my torture worth it.”

Rose was silent for a moment, as the Doctor studied her face. Finally, she raised her eyes and looked into his.

“You…you said…that you’d been…tortured before?” she got out slowly.

He nodded, as he cupped her face with his hand.

Rose swallowed hard.

“Did…did your other…the life before this one…did you get…tortured then too?”

The Doctor hesitated for a moment and then, nodded.

Rose put her hand on his cheek.

“Did you…have scars on your body?”

The Doctor nodded and pulled her closer to him, as she sobbed.

Rose squeezed her eyes shut. The thought of the Doctor silently carrying around scars on his body along with the memories of his torture tormented her. She wondered if all of his lives had suffered torture at one point or another. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she buried her face in his neck weeping for her brave Doctor. Her beloved who had endured more suffering than anyone should have to in all his lifetimes. Her angel who courageously endured all kinds of torture and had the strength to pick himself up afterwards and press on with his mission of saving lives and making a difference in the universe. Her heart ached, as she imagined him all alone in the TARDIS suffering in silence, having no one to lean on and pour his heart out to; not having any shoulder to cry on or someone to lean on for support. Having to pretend that everything was all right when inside his hearts ached for a friend who would understand and be able to truly share in what he had gone through. Thinking all this made Rose even more determined to stay with him for the rest of her life. She never wanted to know that she had left the Doctor alone and tormented. She wanted to be there for him, as he had been there for her. They were each other’s strength now, each other’s rock. She couldn’t imagine leaving him now, and she was sure he felt the same way. She was in it for the long haul, come what may, and nothing short of death would ever make her leave his side.

The Doctor gently kissed her cheek, interrupting her thoughts.

“You gonna put that ointment stuff on me?” he whispered. “Or are you, Rose Tyler, going to actually risk infection?”

Rose looked up at him and couldn’t suppress a smile, as he gave her an impish grin and winked at her.

“Gee, I don’t know,” she said, unable to resist teasing back. “We don’t know what’s in this ointment. You sure you wanna risk it?”

The Doctor’s eyes sparkled with love when he saw she was returning his teasing. He always loved it when they did this. He enjoyed the playful banter they always engaged in, and his heart soared knowing that he was helping Rose feel better and helping her to forget about his injuries.

Raising his eyebrow, he grinned at her.

“Oh what the hell, let’s throw all caution to the wind,” he said, playfully. “I’m the Oncoming Storm, no wussy ointment is gonna intimidate me.”

He beamed, and his hearts swelled with love when Rose giggled at that.

“Okay, you asked for it,” she said, grabbing the jar.

She paused and stared at it, as the Doctor stroked her cheek.

“Um…Do you know what they did put in their ointments?” she asked.

The Doctor stroked her cheek, as he thought.

“Um…I know they had a lot of different herbs that they used and they were actually pretty good at healing people,” he said. “Ancient Egyptians did have an extensive knowledge of herbs and their uses.”

He took the jar from Rose and gazed at the contents. He took a sniff and made a face.

“Ah! I’m glad that’s going on my back,” he said.

Rose raised her eyebrow.

“What? No tasting, mister oral fixation?” she asked.

He grinned.

“Nah, judging from the smell even I’m not brave enough to taste that stuff,” he said.

He rolled back onto his stomach and laid his head on his arm. He smiled up at her, as she leaned in and kissed his forehead.

“I love you,” she said softly.

“I love you too,” he replied.

She smiled, and the Doctor watched, as she moved back down to his back. As he watched her dip her fingers into the ointment, he had a thought and the impish grin returned to his face.

“Hey, Rose…”

“Yeah.”

“It may interest you to know that the ancient Egyptians used to use crocodile dung as a contraceptive.”

He snickered when Rose paused with her finger in the jar and a look of disgust on her face.

“Okay…that was way too much information for me,” she said, as the Doctor giggled.

She paused again, and the Doctor’s eyes lit with merriment, as he could tell she was working that fact over in her mind.

“Okay,” she finally said. “Who first thought of jamming crocodile dung up inside them to stop pregnancies, and how do they clean it out when they’re done?”

The Doctor snickered when Rose eyed him.

“Damn it, Doctor,” she said, swatting at his leg. “Now I’m gonna be thinking of crocodile dung all night.”

The Doctor gave her an innocent look.

“Hey, don’t blame me. I can’t help it if humans don’t have mastery over all their thoughts.”

He grinned, as Rose took another swat at his leg. He smiled at her, and she chuckled softly, as she began to apply the ointment to his back.

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