What if, in Pete's World, whilst working for alt-Torchwood, Rose can come across another Ark of Truth, such as that from the Stargate SG-1 movie? What would it make her see, and realise, about her and the Doctor's lives together, and how each of them really felt? Set between Doomsday and Journey's End.
A/N: Yes, this is me slightly venting about my life, sorry...the line is taken from something one of my dearest friends said to me when I was upset, and it really helped!
"Over here!" Mickey Smith called the rest of his team over to a small painting on the wall of a cave in Darlig Ulv Stranden translated literally as "Bad Wolf Bay". He brushed the dust off the wall with his fingertips, caressing the ink on the walls as though reading Braille. The team had been digging here for many months now, at a small village on the coast of Norway - the site of a rift in space and time. In the universe he originated from, such a weakness in the fabric of subspace ran through Cardiff, but that was not so in this reality. Their generally dull mission was to pick up artefacts and treasures, washed-up from the plethora of years and places occupying the vastness of the Universe. Sometimes household objects came through, sometimes weapons, and often people. It was as rewarding and heartwarming a job as it was frustrating and fruitless, or even dangerous. But this one was special.
Rose Tyler scrambled over the uneven cave floor in the relative darkness to join Mickey. He was gazing at a particular pile of rocks, and a golden chest glinting underneath them in the torchlight. She grinned at him as together, the two lifted the stones away, one by one, to uncover it.
Rose gazed at it in awe. "Is this..."
Mickey took a device out of his jacket pocket and scanned it. "Yup. The real deal, alright. Energy spikes are off the scale! If we can get this power source into the Dimension Cannon, we might just be able to get it working. But we should take it back and analyse it first." The box was dusty and yet very ornate in its design, majestic and old, and yet with a certain ephemeral quality that Rose couldn't quite place. The fusion of the far-flung with the domestic was odd, but somehow seemed right--especially considering the power readings it was giving off.
"Let's open it," Rose stated, bluntly. She stroked the covering panels gently, and ran her finger around the edges. "I don't know why we should, I just...do."
"We can't!" Mickey frowned. "What is it for - do we even know? I mean, it's alien, remember! All of this stuff is! We've gotta follow protocol, take a proper look at it back in the labs--"
"Or, we could open it and let the damage be done here!" Rose retorted. "Do you remember the time we tested the transdimensional extrapolator in Torchwood Tower?!"
Mickey remembered all too well. "Shut up, yeah? So the universe-hopping surfboard didn't work too well. So Lieutenant Jessop turned inside-out. But out here, we're putting innocent people at risk. Not exactly Torchwood's job description, is it?"
"It might as well be," Rose retorted. She brushed her fringe out of her eyes and went back to looking at the box, studying the inscription. "But Mickey…I've got a feeling about this one, alright?" She sighed. "Please."
Not a question, not an ultimatum. Just a word, Mickey thought. Compelled to leave Rose be, he moved towards the entrance and threw Rose his torch, which she caught effortlessly. "If you're not out in five minutes, or anything weird happens, I'm coming back in. Otherwise, don't mention a word."
Rose grinned. "You've got it!"
Rose waited, listening intently for the softening sounds of her ex-boyfriend's footsteps. Satisfied that she was alone, she inhaled deeply. Her hands shaking, she reached for the lid of the box. For a reason beyond her recognition, tears began to fall as the inscriptions on the box seemed to resolve themselves from ancient symbols into words with meaning – words of the heart, and words of truth. With one great effort, Rose Tyler lifted the lid and gazed into the glowing light within…