(AN) More Doctor Who fanfiction! This one, unlike my last two, is a story that is going to have multiple chapters, rather than being a one shot. It's still in process, and any feedback for what I have written so far would be greatly appreciated. Enjoy!
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"Miss Tyler."
It was a voice, a male voice, but not his. The speaker didn't say her name with the same heaviness, laden with emotion, dripping with love.
"Miss Tyler."
It had been three months since she had last seen the Doctor. She had continued with life as she had previously, even gaining an executive position at Torchwood.
"Miss Tyler."
But she still had a heaviness in her brain, and an emptiness in her heart. The Doctor's absence had a palpable presence in her body, changing the way she held herself and went about her life.
"Miss Tyler!"
"That's not my name!" She snapped, turning to the source of the sound.
It was her thin gangly intern, Sam, hovering at her door, a massive stack of files in his hands. He also looked terrified out of his wits after she had snapped at him.
"Call me Rose," she muttered more softly.
Now that he had her full attention, the boy cringed slightly, taking on a nervous disposition. Nowadays there was nothing but a coldness in Rose's eyes and it made it difficult to talk to her comfortably.
"What is it?" She asked flatly, eyeing the files.
"Y-you have to sort these out," he stammered, approaching her desk and dumping them there. Rose sighed heavily after this, waving her hand to permit Sam to leave.
The boy scrambled excitedly to leave the room, and Rose called out after him, "By the way, get me a glass of water, will ya?"
She turned to the files on her desk, and then rubbed her knuckles into her eyes, sighing. There had to be at least 40 of them.
A knock came from her door. Assuming it was Sam, Rose turned around, hand outstretched for her water, only to find that it was Mickey.
"Oh...hello," she said, surprised.
"Hello yourself," he said, flashing a brief smile. Rose noticed that he had a glass of water clutched in his hand, and he set it down on her desk.
Rose didn't say anything. Mickey worked in a different sector of Torchwood than her, chasing down the aliens instead of sitting at a desk reading files about them. Rose oftentimes found herself to be quite jealous of him, missing her old life. Either way, the two of them didn't talk much, even though he came over for dinner every other night at her house.
Rose also didn't talk much in general these days, and Mickey didn't prod her. He knew the emotions that she was going through after she had lost the Doctor.
"You...can sit down if you want," Rose said, gesturing to the chair on the other end of her desk.
Mickey shook his head. "Nah, I just wanted to pop in, see how you're doing."
"Oh," Rose said softly.
"Rose, are you all right?" he asked gently. Mickey asked her this every single time that he saw her.
"Yes." Rose said curtly. She didn't want to the tell the truth, and never would tell the truth, that she wasn't ok, not at all.
"Ok," replied Mickey. He could see that she didn't want him there. He gave her a quick wave goodbye, and then left.
Rose turned back to her files, eager for a distraction. Taking a sip of water, she was about to look at the first file when another one caught her eyes.
It was a bright, brilliant blue.
The sound of breaking glass sounded throughout the office.
A minute seconds later, two burly security guards were at the door of Rose's office, flanking Mickey.
Rose had already read through the file. A horrified look came onto her face as she stared up at him.
"Mickey! Why didn't you tell me!" She yelled.
"It was for your own good, Rose," he replied sadly. "You weren't supposed to read that file."
"I...but...I..." The whole room was spinning, and Rose found it difficult to speak, like a wad of cotton was jammed own her throat.
"The water was drugged," Mickey explained. "Rose, you're coming with us."
His face was nothing but a blur at this point, and his words had no meaning. Rose could only think of what the document had said.
Another Doctor. In the Parallel world. Dangerous. To be executed upon sight.
Everything went black.