Chapter 2

A/N: I must say a big thank-you to everyone who reviewed! It means so much to me that you took the time to tell me how you enjoyed the story. Once again, a big thank-you to the beautiful Luna Lovegood5 for her wonderful beta work!!

"Mickety-Mick-Mick-Mickey! How ya doing?" The Doctor's attempt at sounding laid back and relaxed was failing miserably. "You know I love what you've done with your hair." And getting worse by the second. Mickey eyed him with tense confusion.

"Are you still drunk?"

"What? No, NO! No no no, no no no. Course not."

"Right." Mickey went back to reading his…. Well, whatever it was.

"I didn't know Rose sang." There we go. Blunt. To the point. That was easy! Well, sort of.

Mickey visibly tensed as his gaze snapped up to take in the Doctor's expression. His reply was clipped but vaguely nervous. "She doesn't." He went back to reading, or pretending to read.

"No really, she does. I saw her, just a minute ago," he cocked his head back to the door. "back there. Definitely singing."

"Nah, you must of got it wrong." His voice sounded confident and laid back, but his posture and his eyes gave away his worry. "Trust me, she doesn't."

"Um, no, I think when I saw Rose sitting at a piano, playing and singing, that was really what I saw…"

Mickey's eyes flashed back at the Doctor, but this time he was confused and surprised, as opposed to tense and closed off. He seemed to be paying more attention to what the Doctor was saying. "Are you sure?"

Talking to Mickey was like talking to a rock, except thicker. "Yeah." This was exasperating.

Mickey sighed and sank back into the chair he was in, shutting whatever he was 'reading'. "Wow."

"What? What's wow?"

"Well, God… Rose ain't sung in years. Three if ya wanna be exact."

"What do you mean, 'ain't sung in years'? Don't be ridiculous. Everybody sings. In the shower, making breakfast, fixing the trans-temporal adjuster on the spatio-hyperlink… or maybe that's just me? How do you know she hasn't sung?"

"Trust me. She hasn't sung." Off the Doctor's expression, he elaborated: "It's a long story."

"Then tell me."

"I can't."

"Why not?" The Doctor knew he was beginning to sound like a petulant child, but getting information out of Mickey Smith was like getting blood out of a stone.

"It's Rose's story."

"But you know it."

"Well, yeah. But she'd kill me if I told someone. And I don't mean she'd get pissed, stalk off to her room and get over it by the next day. I mean she'd probably guilt me into suicide just by looking at me."

"Oh, come on Mickey. I'm sure she only meant that as a 'Don't go round telling everyone you meet' sort of a thing. More like a guideline than a rule. You know me, Mickey. I only want what's best for Rose." This was true. Very true. If this little story Mickey was keeping to himself held to key to Rose's unhappiness, and an explanation for what he had seen less than half an hour ago, then he had to find out what it was. He cared for Rose far too much to not know what was going on. Seeing her crying before had torn a hole in his heart. Normally he couldn't stand emotional companions, but Rose was different. She didn't do that sort of thing unless there was a real problem. He gave Mickey his best 'You can trust me' eyes. It worked.

"If you tell Rose that I told you, then I am letting her kill you first."

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The Doctor ran a hand down his face. "Rassilion."

"Yeah."

"You mean…." He wasn't sure what to say. This was a new experience for him. He was never speechless. The whole of the English vocabulary at his feet, and he can't find the words to express how he is feeling.

"Uh huh."

"Crap."

"Yeah."

"I had no idea." And that was saying something. If anyone had asked, the Doctor would have prided himself on being the sole person who knew Rose the best. Turns out he hardly knows anything about her.

"I know."

"How the hell could Rose ever get over something like that?"

"I don't know. It took her a while, but she got there. That's Rose. She's strong. She threw herself into work, pretending everything was normal, when of course we all knew it wasn't. But I think she dealt with it quietly. Sometimes Jackie or I'd walk past her bedroom at night an' we'd hear her crying to herself. But that was just her way of coping. Eventually there was no more crying and she began to become herself again." Mickey's expression was subdued and thoughtful. The Doctor's was shocked – outraged, even.

"But how could someone do something like that to her?" Rose, his beautiful Rose, who'd never hurt a sole. Why would anyone want to hurt her?

"I ain't got a clue. I thought the exact same thing when she told me. And the problem was that there was no proof. Nothin'. There was no possible way to charge him. So he jus' got off."

"I have to see Rose."

Mickey's hand lashed out and grabbed the Doctor's wrist before he could move too far. "Don't you dare! You promised you wouldn't say anything!" Mickey looked scared and guilty at the same time. It was obvious he was beginning to regret telling the Doctor.

"Don't worry. I won't tell Rose you told me anything. I swear."

Mickey reluctantly let go of his wrist. "Remember what I said though. You let on that I told you, and I'll tell Jackie that you abandoned her daughter on a 51st century spaceship this morning."

The Doctor nodded his understanding and made for the door.

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So?? grins nervously Good???

P.S. Cookies for anyone who can guess where this story is going.