Lean on Me

Chapter Six

I woke up the next morning, and for a minute I could almost forget what had happened. Almost. I had a smile on my face for one fleeting second, but it went away as fast as it had come.

The Doctor was already awake, but instead of getting out of bed and dressed, he was laying down next to me, a sad smile on his face. Neither of us had to say anything to know what the other was thinking. I snuggled into him, giving him a hug. We stayed like that for a moment, and afterwards he got up to get dressed. I laid down for a moment more, and then, for what must have been the first time that week, I got dressed too.

We went downstairs, hand in hand, and I felt more confident with him by my side. Mum was making breakfast and Dad was sitting at the table, reading the paper. They both looked up when we walked in, shock and surprise written on both of their faces. They hadn't seen me come outside of my bedroom all week. Mum stopped what she was doing, rushed over and gave me a hug. I buried my face in her shoulder, the way I used to do when I was little. For a moment I thought I might start crying again, but when we pulled away from each other I only had a small, sad smile on my face. Mum guided me over to the table and told me to sit down, which I did. The Doctor took the seat right next to mine, and for that I was grateful. Mum brought over the food a moment later, setting a plate down in front of me. On it were a small stack of pancakes and an omlet. It looked and smelled delicious, but for a moment all I could do was stare at it. I was starving. I barely had anything to eat all week long.

After those first thirty or so seconds of staring at the food, though, I was practically shoving it down my throat. It was the best meal that I'd ever had. I dont think that I had ever had so much to eat, but I knew that after starving myself for a whole week I needed some food.

After the meal, I helped Mum wash the dishes, and I felt like things were normal again for a few minutes. She said that Jake had stopped by a couple of times, but she insisted he went home until I was feeling a little better. I told her that I would call him later or something, and left to go search for the Doctor. When I found him, he was sitting with Dad on the couch, watching football. I decided to leave him alone and headed upstairs.

But without the Doctor next to me as a distraction, I couldn't help but notice the open door leading into what used to be James' room. Absently, I walked in, pushing the door open the rest of the way as if in a dream. But what a twisted dream it was.

His bed was made the same way it was before we left. His toy cars still scattered around the floor in the corner of the room. His drawer still slightly open with the sleeve of one of his shirts sticking out. His shoes still untied at the edge of the doorway. His favorite book left open on the corner of his bed from the last time that I read it to him.

It was like looking at a ghost. It all seemed sort of, well, fake. Everything, and I mean everything, had changed, yet this small room remained the same. Everything left evactly where it always had been. Nothing even looked the least bit different. I could almost see James sitting on the corner of his bed, tying his shoe, or reading his book, or combing his hair.

Before I had even registered what I was doing, I was kneeling beside the small bed, flipping through the book, a single tear sliding down my face. I don't know how long I stayed there, but after a while I heard a creak come from the door. Looking up, I saw the Doctor leaning casually against the door frame. He came over, kneeled down beside me, and draped an arm across my frame. I rested my head against his shoulder, leaning on him for a little while. After a couple minutes, he pulled me into a hug. I'm not sure how long we stayed like that, but it didn't really matter. All I knew was that, in the comfort of his arms, I felt a little bit better than I did before he came in. I was crying again, but the tears were silent and in control this time.

I pulled away from the Doctor, sniffling as I wiped a tear from my cheek. "Come on," I said. "I haven't had pizza in days." I attempted a smile, and so did the Doctor. He grabbed my hand and led me back out the door. We went back to the room, grabbed some money, and we were on our way to the city in a matter of minutes.

"Doctor?" I asked hesitantly.

"Yes, Rose?" He replied.

"Does it ever get better?"

The Doctor pulled me into a hug, a simpathetic look upon his face. It was all the answer I needed.

As we walked aimlessly down the damp streets of London that were unsurprisingly filled with people, I noticed a sign outside one of the townhouses. On it in big black letters read OPEN HOUSE.

I turned towards the Doctor. "Let's go in," I said, tilting my head in the general direction of the doorway that a small group of people had just filed out of.

We stepped inside the front door and looked around. There was a spiral staircase in the far corner of the room that I assumed was leading up to the bedrooms. Right to the left was he living room, and behind that the kitchen. To the right was a small den with a fireplace and a door on the wall leading into the bathroom. The house was a lot bigger than I expected it to be.

The kitchen was beautiful. The cupboards were a dark wood and the countertop a deep red-brown. In the center of the kitchen was an island with a countertop a lighter shade of brown than the cabinets and pure wood.

It felt like home to me, and by the look on the Doctor's face, I could tell he felt the same way.

We decided to venture up the steps and take a look around upstairs. There was another bathroom, a master bedroom and two decently sized bedrooms across the hall. There was a laundry room and a linen closet. The floors were made of a deep brown wood, and the walls in the hallway painted a deep blue, almost like the TARDIS. I could easily picture the Doctor and myself living in the TARDIS-blue walls of this house, and it seemed fitting that our old and new homes would be linked by a color. 

I turned to the Doctor, smiling. "I love it."

He smiled back without hesitation. "Me too."

We walked downstairs after having another look around the bedrooms and ran into the real estate agent in the kitchen. She was a plump woman with a smile on her face. "Hello," she said, shaking our hands. "I'm Pat Fitzpatrick. Are you looking to buy?"

I looked over at the Doctor, prompting him to answer. "I believe so," he said, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me closer to him, a smile on his face. 

"How long have you two been looking?" She inquired.

"Not too long," I responded.

"Well," Pat began,"how did you like it?"

"We love it," I answered for us again, but I knew that the Doctor would have said the same thing.

"That's great. So what are your names?"

"Oh, I'm John Smith, and this is Rose Tyler," the Doctor introduced us. 

"Well, it's very nice to meet both of you. Now, if you could just write down your names and phone numbers and I'll contact you with anymore information on the house." We wrote our names down, and I left my phone number.

After the open house, we walked around the city for a little bit and went to go see all of the tourist attractions. Even after all of the time that we had spent in London together, we never got the chance to go on the London Eye until then. After that, we went out to lunch and went shopping. 

The Doctor and I returned home two or so hours later with bags of new shirts, sweatshirts, jeans, and a few other assorted items. For the first time since it happened, it actually felt as though everything would turn out okay.