A/N: Um..yeah. So..hi, everyone. Been a long, long while since I last posted, but being a second year GCE student isn't easy. So expect postings to be few and far between until exams are finished..sorry.
Erm, yes, more angst. I will eventually get round to a fully-functioning story [eventually. the first chapter is just about drafted] and also something fluffy and lighthearted to compensate for all this angsty drudgery. The scene I imagined on the way home after the events of Journey's End [which is odd, as I usually pretend that it never happened, skipping merrily of into the la-la land of denial].
Even the air around him tasted bitter; with each breathe he took - sullen; to match his current mood- he wasn't best pleased with his current predicament. Yes, it was different, yes; it was unnerving, this body with its city of neatly paged nerves and vast array of hormones and endorphins and one heart. Its plodding solitary beat made him painfully aware of the feeble life that lay ahead.
The pitch and roll of the jeep, that had seen better days, made his hands curl into fists on his trouser-clad knees. The uneasy balance irritated him to no end. It didn't exactly help that he was just slightly too tall and his crown kept colliding with the jeep ceiling every now and then.
The seeming myriads of road lights, flashing over everyone's features, on, off, on, off, like some kind of dementedly flickering torch, highlighted her eyes momentarily. Dark and stoic, they mutely accused him of what he'd done. If he didn't know better, he might have thought the sparkling in those now dark amber orbs to be the hint of tears.
The next drawn, weary sigh that escaped him fogged up the icy, smudged window pane and, for a split second, turned all eyes onto him. He shifted restlessly. As much as he would prefer not to talk –he was sure unsure of this untrustworthy body that the implications of even talking scared him- this tiptoeing around one another, not literally, of course; well, he wouldn't be able to take much more.
Day 1 in this insipid life, forced upon him and she already hated him. The memory of her desperate tugging at the lapels of his jacket, the sliding of her lips over his so soft it was as if he imagined it –these things did in no way belie her expression of indeterminable hurt. He snorted in derision; what sort of a man was his sire to give a poor girl hope, and then abandon her on site, not even saying goodbye? So his egomaniacal, stripy-suited utter idiot of an excuse for a clone apparently thought leaving her with a carbon copy of himself –needless to say, on that bloody nightmare of a beach again- (Jackie's words for once, were never truer), and, yeah, given that she'd kissed the him-but-not-him..He thought that was actually acceptable? He himself may have committed genocide, but at least he had some sense, he thought bitterly.
A sudden thought stumped him, crashing violently into his other internal debate. Was he even good enough for her? He'd been sired from a man who was, in a nutshell, more or less clueless about women. Only a guess was the best way of telling how she felt, from the day's rather traumatic events.
They'd kissed, that he definitely knew. In Earth terms, well, that meant a lot. The Doctor, having been reared in a clinical society, was not always one to be overt about showing affection. That was one side even his maverick likeness couldn't tamp down. So it was understandable that even the mere act of holding hands was fairly otherwise. Obviously, it was otherwise for Rose, and with humans insecurity and sliding in and out of relationships, she had needed that affirmation of their relationship.
And now that that aspect of their relationship has been confirmed –for now, he thought darkly- there was still an element of loss mining a deep chasm in him. Where did this place him, exactly? The Doctor has been happy to constantly give humankind appraisal and throw damnation at them the next for their inferiority, but he, this..hybrid –he wasn't fully Time Lord, was he? The mesmerizing, background spin of the Earth was something he no longer felt. As was the TARDIS' peaceful consciousness, somnolent and soothing with her rhythmic humming, and the pain of that loss was like a knife to one of his vital organs.
The light were infuriatingly bright, white and practically blinding, resulting in a few winces and hastily turned head. Scents, both positive and not, were strong to the point of being totally unbearable. At some chance, he'd weakly hoped that, at least, he'd still have his magnificent taste receptors. As predicted, the bread in the meek sandwich he'd had but two hours ago tasted too sour. Rose had looked pretty offended at his expression of disgust, thinking it an immediate insult to her mother's 'cooking prowess'.
So, at a head count, loss of superior Time Lord senses and abilities, no TARDIS, no screwdriver. Only Rose, the suit on his back and his life ahead of him. Domestic. He'd been dumped here, expected to be Mr. Domestic and a life-long comfort to the silent woman sitting next to him.
Not Time Lord enough before, and, now, not human enough. He gave a short bark of harsh self-deprecating laughter. How unbelievably pathetic could you get?
His eyes flicked towards the front, meeting Pete's cursory glance as a murmur passed between him and his wife. The jeep slowed; the rhythmic bumping of the tyres on whatever road they were on began to decrease, resulting in the small vehicle jostling all its passengers. A small 'oof' emanated from Rose's side as her cranium knocked against the glass and there was a rush of concern for her as he dared make eye contact for more than an quarter of a second. There was a hint of gratitude in their inky depths, but otherwise her expression was unreadable. The road underneath them felt smoother and a glance out and upwards of the window revealed the tall, imposing shape of the rapidly nearing mansion. Haunting silhouettes of manicured trees flanked the large building, and a sudden fear clenched, vice-like, round his heart. The end of a journey, soon to be followed by the beginning of another.
Clicks of seatbelts and cloth on seat fabric saw that everyone else, who werenot much more than strangers to him at the moment, was currently evacuating the jeep. As Rose opened her door, and slid out, he met her gaze and saw how weary she looked. Some human, instinctive nature prompted him to offer a warm smile. He wasn't in the mood for doing anything that requires as many muscles as grinning did, but this, this he could muster. Hope practically exploded somewhere inside him as, after a moment's painful hesitation, she offered one back. It didn't, however, meet her eyes. It did, though, give him some semblance. Taking a deep breath, he then nodded to her, before tiredly making his way out and hoping whatever gods and goddesses and patrons out there would give him more to begin this journey. Things always worked out. It was only one day into his brand new life, after all. His sire was wrong of many things, and he himself too. He'd said many wrong things. But there was one saying that was never truer, and that was to never say never ever to anything.
A/N: There you go, short but sweet. Hoped it didn't put too much of a dampener on things. Reviews are much love [and if you do happen to review and give your opinion, there will most likely be a companion piece to this]. ^^Thanksyou