AN: Here's a one shot based on Ed Sheeran's new sone "One."
Rose Tyler sat in the car in silence, focused only on the road and refusing to acknowledge him. John Smith glanced at Rose for what seemed like the hundredth time, sighing at the hard look on her face.
"Rose."
Tired of John's continued attempts to speak to her, Rose decided to respond. "What?" she said annoyed.
"I know you're not happy about this," John began, ignoring Rose's scoff, "but please, just understand why I want to do this."
"Understand?" Rose replied bitterly. "Of course I understand. You keep telling me that you're going to war because you want to fight for your country but I know that's a lie. You're running away from everything. I shouldn't be surprised; you're just doing what you've always done."
"Rose, that's not true-"
"But it is, isn't it? John, if you'd just let me, let all of us, Donna, Jack, and Martha, help you, you wouldn't be doing this," Rose nearly yelled.
"Rose, pull off to the side of the road."
"No, John, it's fine. You've already made your choice, regardless of what the people who care about you feel, so let's just go to the airport and get this over with," Rose said, tears welling up in her eyes.
"Just pull over, you're too upset right now to be driving," John pleaded.
Rose didn't reply, simply doing as he asked. Once she had stopped the car, she turned to him, no longer trying to keep the tears from streaming down her face. "Yeah, I am upset. Upset that my best friend is a daft git who decides to run from his problems instead of letting his friends help him."
John sighed, reaching up to run his hands through his hair on reflex. It didn't do much good, as his hair was newly cut short. "We've already talked about this multiple times."
"Yeah, and you still don't get it," Rose said, her glare softening. "What happened that night, it was awful, but it's not your fault, John! You don't have to do this just because it's what your father wanted of you."
John tensed, letting Rose's words sink in. "I know I don't have to do it for him. He's gone now, and so is my mum. But I'm doing it for myself, to tell myself that I wasn't an awful son who never listened to his parents. So, please, Rose, just let me go," John said, a tear slipping down his cheek.
Rose stared at John for a long moment, before bringing her hand up to wipe away the tear and then cup his cheek. John closed his eyes and leaned in slightly to her touch.
"You're my best friend. I just want you safe," Rose whispered.
"I know, Rose, but I have to do this."
After a few minutes of melancholy silence, Rose started the car again, driving back onto the road to the airport.
Once they arrived at the airport, neither spoke, Rose just watching with sad eyes as John took his backpack out of her car. Now it was John that refused to make eye contact, unnerved by how Rose made him reveal all of his darkest fears and insecurities. She was right; he always hid his emotions, always running away, trying to forget. It always seemed that Rose could see past his false, wide grins. And that terrified him.
Once John had removed his belongings from Rose's car, he turned to go, thinking Rose wouldn't want to speak to him. After walking a few steps, Rose called out to him.
"John!"
He turned around, half expecting to see her in tears and for her to beg him not to go one last time, but when he met her eyes, all he saw was fear.
She walked up to him, placing a hand on his cheek. "Tell me that when you come back, we'll be okay. That you won't push me away anymore. Tell me that we'll be okay and you won't be a stranger."
John stepped closer to Rose, wrapping her tightly into an embrace. "Rose, you and I could never be strangers. I promise you that."
They stayed in each other's embrace for a few moments more, reveling in the last time they would do so for six months, before John pulled back slightly.
"I should go," John said, reluctantly removing his arms from around Rose. "Make sure Mr. Mickey takes care of you."
"I can take care of myself," Rose protested.
"Oh, I don't know about that. A bit jeopardy friendly, you are," he joked.
Rose laughed with him before choking back a sob. "Goodbye, John Smith."
"Rose, it's not a permanent goodbye. I'll see you in six months," John replied softly, staring at her with desperate blue eyes.
"Not if I see you first," Rose smiled weakly.
John set down his backpack, bringing his hands up to cup her face. Rose closed her eyes at the contact, feeling his breath ghost against her face as leaned closer and whispered her name, calling her his precious girl. A second later, Rose felt a slight pressure against her lips as John gave her a chaste kiss. She didn't respond, shocked by John's actions. He'd never hinted to her that he'd had any romantic feelings for her. And now he was leaving and it was too late to find out.
John's hands slipped from her face, but Rose kept her eyes closed, not wanting to see the look on his face. When Rose finally had the courage to open her eyes, searching his, she could only see his back as he walked away from her and into the terminal.
Six Months Later:
Rose groaned loudly, hearing the shrill sound of her mobile ringing. She stretched out her arms before turning over to her nightstand to see who would be ringing her this earlier.
"Hello?" Rose mumbled, not even bothering to see who was calling.
"Oi, blondie!" The voice on the other side said.
"Donna? Why are you calling me at 5 in the morning?" Rose sighed.
"I'm wondering where you are. Didn't that daft git tell you the right time?" Donna said impatiently. "I got here on time and its you two that aren't here for once."
"Huh? Donna I have no idea what you're talking about," Rose replied.
"I'm at the airport! John's flight was supposed to be here by now, but it's delayed," Donna complained. "And, you, blondie, are still in bed!"
"John's back?" Rose asked in disbelief.
"Of course he is! He had the nerve to call so late last night and expect us to be there!"
"He called you?" Rose asked, her stomach churning.
"Yes, didn't he call you?" Donna replied, her voice sounding less harsh than it had before.
Rose sat up in bed, still cradling her mobile against her ear, but no longer focusing on Donna. Her mind was racing as she thought of John coming home so they could finally talk about the last time they saw each other.
After she'd left the airport six months ago, she was in a daze. She'd always thought John was just a friend, after seeing him act uninterested towards other girls. At first she'd thought, hoped, his disinterest in other women was because of her, before feeling guilty. After all, she was the one in a relationship. But after his infrequent letters that were so impersonal, Rose started to question the meaning behind John's kiss. She figured that it was a friendly kiss, that he hadn't meant it to mean much, besides as a goodbye.
After a bout of drunk crying to Donna, where she scolded Rose for being so unaware of John's feelings towards her. Donna insisted that John had always cared for Rose, as much more than a friend. Donna told her that John's letters were probably formal because he was focused on the war he was fighting. The next day Rose had gone to visit Mickey, who had always had bad timing, only to have him ask if they wanted to get a flat together. Rose felt so horrible, blurting out to Mickey that she couldn't move in with him, couldn't even be in a relationship anymore. And it didn't help Rose's guilt at all when Mickey quietly asked her if it was because of John. After that, Rose eagerly awaited the day John would come home, so she could finally find out whether he felt the same about her that she felt about him.
But now, Rose was seriously wondering whether she, Donna and Mickey had got it wrong. Why didn't he call her? Donna and John had always been close, but Rose had the title of his best friend.
Donna interrupted Rose's thoughts, speaking quietly, "Rose? Did John call you?"
"No."
"Oh, Rose, I didn't know. I thought you'd be the first one he'd call," Donna said softly.
"Well, you've obviously got that wrong," Rose replied, much harsher than she meant. She sighed. "Donna, I didn't mean it like that."
"I know, Rose," Donna said sympathetically. "Listen, they've just announced that John's flight had arrived, so I should go. But I'll take him straight to your flat, so he can explain why he's been so daft."
"Alright," Rose whispered, hanging up before Donna could say anymore.
A few hours later, Rose still hadn't seen John. Although Donna had told Rose she would be taking John over to see Rose first, word had gotten out that John was back after Donna's mum found out why Donna was leaving their house at the crack of dawn. Instead, Jack and Martha had decided to throw together a last minute welcome home party at Jack and John's flat. Said party had started an hour ago, but Rose was still at her flat. Since Donna had called her, Rose had been mentally setting herself up for seeing John for the first time in six months. Rose told herself that she was just letting everyone else speak to John before she did, figuring their conversation might take awhile but the truth was, Rose was stalling.
Since Donna had called her, Rose had been mentally setting herself up for seeing John for the first time in six months. After Donna had called Rose for the fifth time, telling her to get her arse over to the party, Rose decided she couldn't put it off any longer and headed over to the flat.
Once she arrived, she was met with a rather tipsy Jack Harkness, who planted a sloppy kiss on her lips, telling her that John was inside talking to Donna. Rose mingled for a bit, asking Mickey and Martha how they were doing before heading to the porch, where John was.
She walked out the back door to find John reclining in a chair with his back turned away from her. She could see Donna sitting in the chair next to him, talking animatedly, no doubt catching John up on the latest gossip. Donna met Rose's hesitant eyes, giving her a warm smile.
Donna leaned forward and said something to John that Rose couldn't quite make out. John sat up in the chair and turned slowly around to face Rose, his icy blue eyes meeting her warm hazel ones.
"Rose."
At the sound of John's voice, something that she dearly missed, Rose sprung forward over to him. He stood up to meet her halfway, pulling her into his arms. Rose clung to him, breathing in his familiar scent and reveling in the feel of his arms around her once more. John seemed to be doing the same, tilting his head to bury it in her hair.
"Awww, look at the happy couple!"
John and Rose sprang apart in surprise, looking in the doorway to see Jack grinning widely, a drink in one hand. Jack's shout had attracted everyone else, all of whom seemed eager to see the friends reunited. Rose felt her cheeks burn up in embarrassment and glanced over at John to see if he was reacting the same. Instead of being embarrassed, John stood beside her stiffly, his face a hard, indiscernible mask.
"John?" Rose said, grasping his hand in hopes of releasing some of the obvious tension in his body.
He didn't look at her as he removed his hand from hers. "I have to go," John said abruptly, walking swiftly away from everyone.
"John! It was just a joke!" Jack called after him, confused by his friend's reaction.
John either didn't hear or didn't want to respond, walking inside.
"I'll go after him," Donna offered, seeing Rose's hurt look and sensing she needed some time.
Nobody argued with her as she walked inside, as they all stood in silence, wondering why John had reacted so strangely. After minutes later, Donna walked back outside with a concerned expression on her face.
"He's gone."
"What?" Martha asked in disbelief.
"John left. His car's gone from the garage," Donna explained, glancing at Rose, who was stood frozen with a shocked expression on her face.
Eventually, Rose shook herself out of her thoughts and said, "I should-I should go after him."
"Rose, love, maybe he just needs some time. I think it was too soon after him coming home for us to throw him a party. We should let him adjust to being back," Donna said softly, putting her hand on her friend's arm, stopping her from going to follow John.
Rose stared at Donna for a moment, searching her eyes for an idea of what she was thinking.
"Yeah. I guess you're right," Rose offered, trying not to think about the fact the John was fine for the hour in which she wasn't there, panicking only when she arrived.
So Rose reluctantly gave John the space he seemed to want.
But after a few weeks of barely any communication with him, Rose was hurt. She knew he was still talking to Donna and Jack but he'd yet to have a conversation with Rose that went beyond greetings and pleasantries. And it hurt her to see him act so distant. It was one thing when he was in the army, physically separated from her, but Rose couldn't prepare herself for dealing with John being so close, and to not have the close relationship they'd once had.
Rose was sick of him brushing her off and refusing to talk to her. So one evening, she decided that she needed to speak with him, no matter how determined he seemed not to speak with her.
She headed over to his and Jack's shared flat, reaching under the mat for the spare key she knew was there, having used it many times. After finding it, Rose hurriedly unlocked and opened the door.
"Jack, you said you were gonna be gone all night," a voice called from inside the flat.
"It's not Jack, it's me," Rose replied, walking in to see John sprawled across the couch, watching some boring science program. She was shocked by the amount of beers littered over the coffee table and onto the floor.
"Rose, what are you doing here?" John asked and Rose noticed his words were starting to slur.
"Are you-you're drunk. John, this isn't like you. I used to have to drag you to pubs," Rose said, worried for him. "Are you alright?"
"I'm always alright," John replied, his eyes starting to droop.
"No, it's obvious you're not okay. You've been avoiding me ever since you got back. Donna's worried, Jack's worried, everyone's worried about you, John. So let me help you," Rose pleaded.
"Rose, it's fine. I'm fine. Fantastic," John slurred, his eyes closing briefly before flicking open.
"I can't have this conversation with you when you're drunk," Rose sighed. "Come on, let's get you into bed."
"Ha. Rose Tyler getting me into bed. There's a thought," John mused, his mind failing to filter his words.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Rose couldn't help but ask. She was feeling a bit hurt by his statement. Was she that off-base when she thought he actually felt something more than platonic for her. Because now he was practically scoffing at the idea of them being together like that.
"Rose, you're always flirting with pretty boys, even when you were with Rickey. No one with daft ears and a daft nose. No one like me," John replied as she tried to coax him up off the couch.
"John…" Rose whispered, realizing that he didn't think he was good enough for her. He was right; she did flirt, and she was just beginning to realize she'd given John a false impression of the type of guy she wanted. Because since he'd kissed her before he left, he was the only guy she thought about. He was the only one she was interested in.
John's snore broke Rose out of her reverie and she frowned, unsure of how she was going to get him into his room, knowing she wouldn't be able to carry him. She knew from experience, before he left when they'd fallen asleep late at night on the same couch, that it would leave him sore the next day.
The sound of the front door unlocking, caused Rose to turn towards the sound. A stumbling, laughing Jack walked in the door followed by another man.
Jack saw Rose kneeling next to John and exclaimed, "Rosie! You're here! Have you and John been able to talk yet?"
"No, Jack, I came here and he was pissed drunk. And he fell asleep so I would appreciate some help getting him into his bed," Rose said.
Jack grinned at Rose's statement and asked. "So are you gonna stay the night?"
Rose glared at her friend, wary at what he was insinuating. "No!"
Jack laughed. "Relax, Rosie, it was a joke. You two are so sensitive."
Rose quieted, looking at John's sleeping face. "Jack, I've never seen him this drunk…"
Jack sobered up at the sight of Rose so worried. "Come on, I'll help you carry him to his room. You should stay and talk to him in the morning."
Rose nodded and lifted John's arm up over her shoulders as Jack did the same. Together, they stumbled into his room trying their best to settle him on the bed.
"I probably shouldn't stay all night," Rose said afterwards. "John will still be here in the morning and I really don't want to hear what you and your friend will be up to."
Jack grinned. "Fair enough. Feel free to see yourself out when you want, Ianto's waiting for me."
"Thanks, Jack," Rose said gratefully and Jack gave her a hug.
"Don't worry, John will come around. Even if he doesn't want to talk in the morning, I won't let him leave until he talks to you."
Rose smiled half-heartedly, but nodded anyway.
When John woke the next morning, he felt the familiar aching of a hangover start to take over. Since he got home, he'd had a cycle of avoiding Rose and drinking. He was still castigating himself for kissing her before he left. At her lack of response, he'd realized that she obviously wasn't interested. And after all he'd seen during the war, he'd realized what he'd subconsciously known all along; he was too damaged for her.
The thought of Rose stirred up memories of last night. He didn't remember making to his bed. That's when he realized. Rose. She came to him last night to talk and he'd drunkenly hinted at his jealousy of all the pretty boys that she attracted with her beautiful smile and friendly personality. He groaned. Now he definitely wouldn't be able to face her anytime soon.
John reluctantly got out bed, heading into the kitchen, hoping to find some tea. What he found instead was Rose, sitting at the kitchen table, nursing said cup of tea. She looked up at the sound of his footsteps and smiled softly.
"I made tea. Help yourself to some."
John nodded, heading over to the stove, where a kettle rested. After taking longer than normal to prepare his tea, he built up the courage to sit beside her.
"So, you came to see me last night," John began.
"And you were drunk," Rose replied, her face clearly showing her disapproval of the fact.
"And I was drunk," John echoed nervously.
Rose sighed, realizing that she would have to push the conversation along the direction she wanted.
"John, I've missed you, so much."
"I've missed you too, Rose," John said sincerely.
"Then why have you been avoiding me?" Rose asked, trying to hold back her tears.
"Oh Rose, my precious girl," John breathed, "When will you realize that perhaps its better for you this way?"
Rose's eyes flashed with anger. "Better for me? How is you avoiding me and you getting drunk while I worry about you better for me?"
"Rose, I'm too damaged for you. I was before and I'm even more so now," John said sadly.
Tears began to fall down Rose's cheeks and she replied. "Look, John. I know that my life hasn't been nearly as bad as yours. I lost my dad, but I was just a baby and I don't remember him. You lost both of your parents in the same night. I've only worked in a shop while you've been fighting for your life and for the country. But, I care about you, so much, and it hurts me to see you like this. Just let me help you heal."
"I don't know if I can be helped, Rose. And you deserve so much better than me. You're gonna find a nice bloke one day and realize you've been wasting your time with me."
"Don't say that," Rose said fiercely, her hands coming up to cup his cheeks. "John Smith, I don't care how damaged you are, I still want you. I still love you."
And Rose's confession John's eyes widened. "You-you love me? I thought, you didn't want me like that?"
"I know. I'm sorry I flirted, I'm sorry that I didn't respond when you kissed me. I was too shocked. But, John, please believe me, it's you I want." Rose released his face and reached down to grasp one of his hands in both of hers.
With his free hand, John brought his and up to tenderly stroke her cheek, gently wiping away her tears. Slowly, he leaned in and pressed his lips softly against hers, smiling into the kiss when he felt her sigh and press her lips more firmly to his.
John pulled away slightly and she whimpered. "Rose, I love you too."
Rose smiled brightly at him and he matched her grin with one of his own, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time.
After a moment, Rose's grin began to fade and John looked at her concerned. "Rose?"
"Tell me you're not going back to the war. Tell me that you won't leave," Rose whispered fearfully. "Please, tell me you won't be distant again and you'll stay with me."
"Ever since I've met you, you're the only one I've been able to think about, Rose. You're it for me. You're the one." John told her. "I have no plans to leave you ever again."
Rose giggled softly at his cheesiness and he grinned. "You're it for me too, John."
"Fantastic," John said before pulling her closer to kiss her again.
John still had a lot of healing to do and it wouldn't be easy for them. But with Rose's support and love, John knew that their life together would be just that. Fantastic.