Salut, again! This is my first attempt as a multi-chapter fic. Updates will be sporadic, as they rely on the motivation I get from reviews! Please let me know what you think! This is an AU story, set somewhere after... hmmm... well, 10th Doctor, so whenever you like in the second season, before the finale, of course. Anyway, here it goes!
She opened her eyes and sat up with a gasp, her paper - thin hand flying to her aching head. She had thought the dreams had gone, that she could finally be free of the nightly hauntings. But no, this was proof. They were here, and now, just like always. They would never go away. She clenched her blue-grey eyes shut with visible effort, and let her mind re-watch every agonizing second. She had tried, so many times, to stop it from happening, but she couldn't. After the first few weeks, she had learned not to scream when she woke up, and not to let anyone hear her sobs. She didn't eat after two in the afternoon, in hopes that an empty stomach would reduce the retching. But that didn't stop the dreams themselves. She knew that only one thing could, but she also knew that she would never be able to see that thing again. To see him. To see his smile, his face lighting up at the mention of her name. Because that's what the dreams are. Memories.
When she could see again, rid of the lights that blinded her mind, she crept out of her warm bed and down the short hallway to her en-suite bathroom, thanking whatever god there was that she hadn't screamed loud enough this time to wake her mother, just down the hall of their small flat. Then there would be questions, questions she couldn't, no, wouldn't, answer. She closed the bathroom door quietly, and turned on the faucet. The cold water felt good on her face, her arms. His arms, around her. His arms, holding her close in the darkness. No. Not him. He wasn't there. So she stopped thinking, again. Too restless to sleep again so soon, she pulled out her laptop from its hidden spot under her bed, where no one would look. Suddenly tired of her golden-blond hair fanning out around her, she tied it back with one of the many hair ties that littered the carpet around her bed, from nights when she had torn them out harshly in her sleep. In her dreams. The computer's clock read 3:30 as she typed in her short password, the name that haunted her thoughts every day. His name. Noiselessly, she scanned her e-mail in vain, out of habit, hoping for some mention of him, of the home they had made together throughout all of time and space. But it wasn't there. It never was. She quickly signed out of her account, satiated, and rolled over to try and sleep again. And with any luck, she wouldn't dream.
The next morning, she woke to the sound of her mother's grating voice, telling her it was time to get up or she would be late. She groaned, and rolled over, searching blindly for her phone so she could check the time. Damn. 7:30. Her mother was right; she would be late if she didn't hurry. She had her headphones in her ears in seconds, blasting out the sound of the rest of the world as she searched in her closet for something that wouldn't remind her of her other life, of the one she led so long ago. Luckily, most of her old clothes hung off her thin, worn frame now, six sizes too big in every aspect. That left the few clothes her mother had insisted on buying her, the casual blouses that clung tightly to her nearly non-existent curves and jeans that flattered her only by chance. She didn't care anymore how people saw her, but her mother, trying her best to draw Rose out of the darkness she lived in, had bought her beautiful things and makeup and shoes to try and normalize her radically deteriorating daughter. Things hadn't always been like this. Before, she had things to encourage her to eat and sleep and care for her body. She used to have him. She used to have him tell her every chance he got how pretty she was, even at night, in the darkness of a planet with no moon at midnight, with her close rumpled from their most recent escape and her make up kissed off by accident. But when he was gone, when it was all gone, she had withered. She had withered, but she hadn't died. They wouldn't let her do that. They wanted her to be beautiful. They always did. Her mother, her doctors, every one wanted her to be normal, but she was of age; there was only so much they could do. The fat that had clung to her bones, keeping her healthy and beautiful, had disappeared. Her hair had grown out into waves that covered her face when she tilted her head, and her body decayed as her mind grew further and further from the rest of the world around her, towards thoughts of him.
She ran a comb through her hair, out of habit. She didn't really care about things like that anymore. Ear buds still in place, she tripped out the door and down the stairs, keeping her eyes down, hoping not to meet her mum's worried gaze. She shouldn't have tried too hard though, because she was distracted, arguing with her boss on the phone again. Once upon a time, this had been a happy family, if not a conventional one. A single mum and her pretty daughter, they had gotten along fine, but weren't anything special. Then he came, and things were better, perfect. Then he left, and things were worse. Rose had stopped caring about work and going back to school and her mother spent her days trying desperately to find relief from the stress of having a daughter whose heart refused to heal. Ms. Tyler had slowly distanced herself from her daughter, not knowing how to deal with something she had never experienced, and hoping Rose wouldn't notice the way her mum looked away from her instead of at her, and the way she no longer tried to engage the girl in anything. But she noticed. The girl with the sad blue eyes and honey blond hair noticed everything, because no one noticed her.
Okay! How was it? I've been working on it forever, so hopefully it worked well. Please review!
Merci,
Reinette