Title: Everything has it's Time (1/8)
Pairing: Rose/Ten
Spoilers: Set after 'Age of Steel'
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery
Rating: Teen for mature writing style
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and make no financial profit from this writing, just other kinds of profit!
Summary: Rose realises that it isn't the loss of Mickey that's hurting her but the feeling that she's lost the Doctor. One random morning on board the good ship T.A.R.D.I.S., Rose says the one thing she never thought she would ever say.
Rose hadn't been herself lately. She felt numb, listless. Something was missing but for the life of her she couldn't remember what it was. Something wasn't right. She wasn't right.
She stared blankly through her mirrored reflection as she absently tried to tame her damp golden strands to tangle free and un-knotted normalcy though why she bothered, when her next adventure would likely involve strange alien substances taking up residence again in her roots or just wind tussled back combing as she ran for her life, was beyond reasoning.
She chewed thoughtlessly on her pump bottom lip, her fingers raking through her hair as her mind wandered to the depths of being, inside one Rose Tyler and struggled with more resilient knots and tangles.
She felt; how did she feel? Did she feel at all?
There was something so familiar like a memory tugging on he strings of consciousness. Stuck somewhere in the web of her mind, trapped, waiting with dread to be discovered and devoured; an errant thought that held a key to...'Oh' she groaned in frustration. Everyone has off days.
She was just tired or missing Mickey. No she wouldn't think about him not yet, not now, maybe not ever, though she couldn't fool herself into believing that but that's what they did wasn't it? They were the cause without the effect; the main course without the pudding, no consequences no aftermath no self-recrimination or introspection; no second guessing or torturous tales of what ifs. But this was different, this time the repercussions were personal.
No, she'd be fine, she was always fine; through that was the problem wasn't it? She wasn't fine. She couldn't get her mind to process why, but she definitely wasn't. I'm always fine, a chill ran through her.
Rose stilled her hands. Her hair would be greasy again with such fiddling and twiddling and huffed info her pink elephant pyjamas. She flopped unto the bed.
It would be another couple of mindless infuriating and unproductive hours before she'd fall asleep.
In her thoughts, in her head, in her dreams, Rose Tyler was in her own bed back at Bucknall house, her alarm blaring and mother yelling something about eggs and tea and warnings about being late. She buried her head under the pillow and snuggled further into the soporific warmth that her body had radiated during the night. Then there was a hand on her shoulder and the soft whisper of her name.
"Rose?" No response.
"Rose?"
"Just ten more minutes, yeah?"
"Rose?"
"Go away mum." She shoved at the irritating pressure of the disembodied hand with a little more force than necessary.
"Oi! None of that or I'll set the T.A.R.D.I.S. air-con to subzero and I am not your mother and do you really have to mention her this early in the morning? Not a health feeling to start the day with, abject horror! Rose? How can you sleep through? Rose?"
"I'm up I'm..." And there's that feeling as her garish pink council estate boudoir fades into oblivion and the surreal T.A.R.D.I.S. slowly resubstantiates knocking off kilter the default setting of her preconscious self and she suddenly knows exactly what she feels, and it's nothing.
No it's not nothing but it's getting up at unholy o'clock and going to work in a shop. It's eating chips from a paper bag in front of the latest drama in East Enders. It's the highlight of her day being a pint in her local with football hooligans, handsy punters, in gaudy makeup, halter neck and killer high heels. But how could she feel that here? Here on the T.A.R.D.I.S.? Something so familiar, so normal, so ingrained but so forgotten? Trapped, complacent, autonomous with this magnificent man and his flying machine?
She sits bolt upright and stares at a surprised and amused Doctor but her expression is one of panic. Then there's the sting of acceptance and the knowledge that it's time to go home.
The Doctor took in her startled expression and look of realisation.
"Had an epiphany Rose? Was there a wise man with stardust in your dreams?"
In almost slow motion Rose inclined her head, felt her blood pumping through her veins, her heart thundering a staccato beat against her chest then all was silent and clear as her eyes un-misted and she looked at him and spoke the words she never thought she'd ever think never mind say.
"Doctor it's time you took me home."