A Simple Truth
By Holdur
Prompt: If
Spoilers: slight ones for Parting
of Ways
Notes: AU from Parting of Ways. Also, ignoring the fact that the TARDIS would probably take far longer to die than Rose's lifetime.
It took two days of furious abuse to the TARDIS before Rose finally slumped to the floor and admitted defeat. It wasn't until a day after that Mickey managed to take her home, and even then he had to carry her because she couldn't move on her own. The next day she was back, turning the key in the lock, sure that she had missed something, sure that there was an answer if only she looked hard enough. Mickey came with her and stood by the doors, watching as Emergency Program One played on an endless loop while Rose circled the console, furious and determined and despairing in turns. He carried her home and he made her listen as the Doctor flickered in front of them, holding her against him when she tried to turn away.
"It's what he wanted," Mickey said when she had listened several times through. Rose nodded. She slipped the key on its chain around her neck and under her shirt where it lay cold against her chest and let the doors close behind her, telling herself that she wouldn't come back.
She couldn't stay away. Though she did her best to live her own life, the key was always at hand and it was so easy to return; a couple times a week at first, but then once a month or once every two months. Every time she stepped inside, the colors dimmed and the space shrank until one day the key wouldn't turn and she knew that the TARDIS had died and she was finally, undeniably alone.
She spent her days in a secret government agency that was looking for the Doctor and, though she disapproved of their methods, she worked there just in case. He was a time traveler after all. She spent her nights imagining what she would tell him if they found him and if she could convince him to go forward and bring himself back to her. Could there be two of him in the same time? Maybe. Maybe, maybe.
She lived on maybes. Whenever news of a police box filtered through the agency, she was the first to know and the first to find it, key clutched in her hand, heartbeat thudding in her ears, thinking maybe this time. She found the old ones, the forgotten ones, the fake ones, but they were only police boxes and each time she went back home, alone.
Then one day, the key turned.
And there he was, hunched over the console, screwdriver in hand, frowning. As haughty as she remembered and if she looked in his eyes they would be as deep as the space between stars and just as sad.
Rose stood by the doors with a hand over her mouth, aware that she would be crying if not for the fact that she couldn't breathe.
He turned towards her, surprised to have company and she suddenly wondered if he had met her yet. In all her imaginings, she hadn't thought of that. Maybe she was an intruder. Maybe she had irrevocably damaged the timelines.
She watched his eyes flick over her hair and clothes, neater than she had ever been with him now that she was working for the government.
"You're not supposed to be here," he said at last. She heard concern tinged with mild amusement, but nothing of the indignation that a stranger on his beloved ship would bring. She gulped a lungful of air in relief and found her voice.
"Neither are you." The words came out in a rush and a nearly breathless laugh.
He quirked a wry smile at her; the same smile she remembered from the times when he didn't want to admit that she was right.
He watched her as she trailed her hand along the railing, letting it lead her around the console. It was almost enough to be here again, feeling the TARDIS thrumming under her feet and know that she could go through the back door, turn left and be in the kitchen, where there would be tea, waffles and a hefty supply of chocolate, but no milk.
"You can't save me, Rose Tyler," he said into the silence.
She was nearly back at the doors, lost in the faint flutter of metal against her fingertips and the gentle pressure of the TARDIS in the back of her mind, and the words fell through her ears and into the bottom of her stomach. She clung tightly to the rail with one hand, forced herself to stand upright. She had cautioned herself often that she would probably step out of the TARDIS exactly as she went in, but she had never been able to get rid of the nineteen year old in the corner of her brain with the unshakable faith that everything would be alright once he appeared. It was a simple truth that she had clung to even before she knew his name, back when his hand slid into hers. The Doctor would fix things; all she had to do was find him.
She closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. She didn't need to look to know that he was slowly drifting towards her without any real awareness of his own movement, wavering from side to side and wondering what to do next. He would linger but never leave. She tried not to think about the girl who was waiting for him.
"I could have," she said. When she opened her eyes, he was smiling at her; the smile for when everything was right and, though everything might have been completely wrong, she found herself smiling back.
"I know," he said.
And that was the end. The next moment she was out the door and down the street and she heard the whoosh and grind of the TARDIS flitting away from her. She squeezed her hand around the key and told herself that she would stop looking for blue boxes. Told herself that he wasn't alone.
She was.