Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. It belongs to the BBC, who continues to ruin my life with impeccable dramas.
Surprisingly enough, it's Mickey who gets Rose back on her feet in those early days.
Mickey, who has always been there for her, first as a friend, then later as something more. Mickey, who loved her even as he watched her grow away from him. Mickey, who bravely took to an alternate world when he realized that there was nothing left for him in his own. Mickey, who stepped up and became the hero he'd always read about. Mickey, who never stopped supporting her.
When she landed in that parallel universe with only her mum for support, Mickey was the one who reached out to her. At first, Rose had expected him to be smug, to tell her that he'd been right, that nothing good had come from all her travels with the Doctor. She even expected him to feel somewhat justified in the fact that she too had gotten what she deserved – dumped and forgotten in the same way that he had been. But he wasn't. Not in the least. Rather, he visited her every day those first few weeks and taught her how to get by in this familiar yet unfamiliar world. She had been overwhelmed by all the seemingly little things that made this world different than the one she'd grown up in, those little things that added up to monumental changes in history. He was the one she could trust to help her make sense of all of it, like why Britain had a President rather than a Prime Minister or why Guy Fawkes Day wasn't celebrated here.
Surprisingly enough, Mickey was the one who understood how much she missed the Doctor. He understood even better than her mum, who had her own struggles with adjusting to this world they'd suddenly found themselves in. He remembered what it was like in the TARDIS, how it was to travel and see all of time and space, and suddenly be without it, all the wonder and excitement. He knew how hard it was to give it up, to be stuck in a place where he didn't quite belong, separated from everything he'd once held dear and the person he'd loved most. He knew all too well.
He was the one she confided in, who listened to her and held her when she cried, never asking for more than friendship. He'd come to see that the relationship they'd had those years ago was an innocent love, and would never have been anything more than temporary, Doctor or no Doctor. And now, after everything that had happened, Rose was grateful that he never once pressed her for anything more than she would willingly give. He once again became her closest friend and confidant, as he had been for years, and he slipped back into that role as if they'd never been apart. In many ways, his constant friendship was the anchor that kept her from floating away into nothingness.
Mickey was the one to help her get her job at Torchwood, saying that she'd be great there, what with all the traveling she'd done out in the great wide universe. He was the one who coached her on her application process and helped her through her written and field tests, teaching her how to use a gun, to how fight, how to hold her own. He was the one who took her down to the pub for a pint when she passed and was given a fancy new ID badge. He was the one who continued to believe in her when the rest of their team still didn't think she was cut out for the job and he was the first one to congratulate her when she proved them all wrong and was given a team of her own.
He was the one who rescued her from the madness of life at the Tyler mansion and its never-ending parties and social obligations and reminded her how to be normal. He was the one who brought her home every Saturday to have tea with him and his gran. He was the one who took her out to the cinema or to dinner so she wouldn't feel alone when Pete decided to take Jackie on another fancy holiday. He was the one she talked to about her parents, about how glad she was to see them together again, and about how she selfishly felt just a little bit forgotten by them.
Mickey was the one who went with her to her parents' highly publicized vow renewal, who danced with her at the grandiose reception, who made faces at the paparazzi who wanted snapshots of the Vitex heiress and her "beau" doing the Electric Slide and the Chicken Dance. He was also the one who bravely stood by her side and shared secret smiles with her as Jackie, mortified, ranted and raved about the headlines on the tabloids the next morning. They had felt like children again and Rose had loved every second of it.
He was the one who helped her move into her new flat when she decided that it was time to get out of the mansion. He helped her paint the walls and carry boxes and put together bookcases. He was the one who sat with her on the floor of her new living room that first night, eating pizza straight out of the box and sipping celebratory champagne out of paper cups.
Mickey was the one she always called when she'd had a few drinks too many and couldn't be trusted to get back to her flat on her own. Rose had never been much of a drinker, but sometimes, on a night out with her mates or co-workers, the soothing burn of alcohol was just what she needed to forget for a while. She felt embarrassed to call her mum and Pete – she didn't want to worry them, not with everything they had to worry about with Jackie's pregnancy – so Mickey was the one who picked her up and drove her home and carried her to bed. He was the one who rebuffed her desperate drunken kisses and disentangled her arms from his neck, reminding her that no, no, it wasn't him she wanted. It was the Doctor, it had always been the Doctor, and he couldn't. He just couldn't. He was the one who was mercifully forgiving, never speaking of the incident again.
He was the one who was with her when she got the call that her mum was in labor and drove with her to the hospital. He was there when she held her brother for the very first time. He was the one who saw her smile and her teary eyes and witnessed how that little baby opened her heart to something she thought she'd left behind for good in the proper universe – hope.
He was the one who agreed to babysit with her when the threat of a crying infant was too much to face alone. He was the one who felt it necessary to point out that she could face alien races and near-death experiences, but a colicky sibling was out of her depth. He was the one who sat with her on the couch while she rocked baby Tony to sleep with the soft noise of television droning in the background. He was the one she talked about the future with, about whether or not they were too screwed up for anyone to ever want to marry them and, if they ever found anyone, what awful names they might choose for a baby, names like Eugene and Philomena and Ambrose. He was the one who never said it out loud, but knew that their futures, while running parallel, would never cross, never result in any of the hypothetical things they discussed.
When the stars started going it, it was no surprise that Mickey was the one who supported her need to find the Doctor. He was the one who helped her persuade Torchwood to develop the dimension cannon, who ran the tests with her and briefed her for the missions. His was the last face she saw before she made each jump between worlds and more likely than not, the first when she got back. He was the one who held his breath each time she disappeared from his sight and let out a sigh of relief each time she came back in one piece.
He was the one who helped her explain herself to her mum when Jackie found out just what sort of "secret missions" Rose had been going on for all those weeks. It was Mickey who stepped in when Rose's attempts at making her understand how important this was ended in shouts and tears from both mother and daughter. It was Mickey who made Jackie realize that this was about more than finding the Doctor, it was about the fate of the world, the universe, all of reality.
He was the one who tactfully negotiated Jackie's insane request that if they were to toy around with the walls of time and space again, she would be right there beside them. He was the one who convinced Rose, convinced Torchwood that this wasn't as asinine as it sounded – giving a billionaire's wife clearance into the nation's most influential security organization. He was the one who taught Jackie Tyler how to use a standard blaster and portable teleporter. It was madness, but that was Mickey – ever steadfast, ever grinning, ever by her side.
And after everything – finding the Doctor, the trip to the Crucible, the madness of saving the world once more –Mickey was the one who hugged her close and told her to embrace happiness. He couldn't stay with her or their parallel world anymore, and she had known why. She had stood with him at his grandmother's funeral just weeks ago, had been the one to see him through his time of great loss. There was nothing left for him and now that he had the chance to return to the proper world, how could he not? It was Mickey who kissed her cheek and told her to be safe and be happy. After all they'd seen and done, he said, they deserved to be happy, all of them.
Rose was the one who watched him go, wishing him all the best and knowing that no matter what, he would be great.
He'd always been great. He'd never judged her, although if anyone ever had the right to, it would have been him. He never gave up on her, though she had to admit that she'd given up on him several times. And he'd never, never stopped loving her, even when she had childishly rescinded her love and given her heart to another.
The Doctor may have been the one who showed her how wonderful life could be, but it was Mickey who helped her keep on living it.