Chapter 3: Another Day in the Life
It was a typical London morning, as they all seemed to be, wet and blustery. The kind of morning that stretched over into lunch, then dinner, then all the way through the night so it felt the day would never end. It seemed for the last few months that a single day hadn't passed at all and that the morning, or mourning, would never end.
Rose slid out from under the warmth of the duvet and looked glumly at the window. Her platinum hair (with the darker roots that were showing worse than normal in the last few months) was puffy and stuck up in places around her face as hazel eyes rolled toward the grey light. She sighed a very defeated sigh and wanted nothing more than to crawl back under the sheets and let dreamland cover her again. As that wasn't an option, it seemed, she had to pull herself up and sit squarely to face the morning.
By the time she'd done the requisite shower, business suit, hair and makeup it was nearly time for Peter and Jackie to start screaming up the stairs. Hell, the only reason she'd drug herself out of bed was to avoid the screaming. They were getting good at that as of late. She slid into a nice pair of black heels and clicked sullenly down the hall to the stairs in much of the same fashion that a child would who didn't want to go to school. Not to say she was childish, but at that point in the morning she would have preferred to eat Barcelonan shit for breakfast.
As she made her way down the stairs she was met with the typical greeting from the staff on the first floor which she accepted with a practiced smile. There was no point in the staff telling Jackie that she looked upset because that was far more trouble than it was worth. Her sleek heels clicked ever-so-confidently down the hardwood toward the kitchen, giving her just enough strength to open the swinging door and greet her family with another practiced smile.
"Morning," Rose greeted the three and sat down at the oak table beside another great window that depicted the overcast day outside, "how is everyone?"
Peter looked up from the paper and with one of his practiced smiles he nodded at Rose, "fine, dear."
Jackie's eyes lifted from the baby in the high chair beside the table to greet Rose with a genuine hug and kiss on the cheek, narrowly missing her black suit with a spit up rag. The older blonde smiled and dipped the baby spoon she was holding into the jar of what looked like mashed…something and turned to baby Christopher; "we all slept right through the night, didn't we? Huh, didn't we? And now we're all awake ready to start the day!" Jackie gushed to her now eight month old son.
Rose rolled her eyes and felt the sting of a headache coming behind her eyes. So it's going to be one of those days she mused, letting one manicured finger(courtesy of Jackie) move to rub the temple above her right eye. It seemed like every day she was waking up with a headache anymore. When they were first stuck there it only happened every once in a while, but ever since…that day it had gotten worse. The sounds of her wide awake baby brother grated on her already short nerves as she sat for the obligatory ten or so minutes of a "family" breakfast. His chubby fists pounded on the plastic of the highchair, each sound sending a wave of pain through her skull and the feeling that she was spinning came upon her with a sickening and almost audible 'woosh'.
Ever since Rose and Jackie had moved into Pete's home something had definitely changed. No longer did Rose feel the desire to be involved with the family and was resolved to spend most of her time alone in her room when she wasn't at work. This worried Jackie endlessly and even now it seemed like her poor daughter was moving further away from the first proper family she'd had since she was born. Pete looked upon his daughter, still very distant from her as there was a silent understanding between the two of them that they really weren't related. Sure, Jackie was the glue that held the family together and now Christopher added to the mix, but it was evident that Rose didn't exactly regard the man behind the newspaper to be her actual father.
Time passed slowly as Jackie bustled around making breakfast and trying to get the baby fed and ready for the day. Time. Time was funny anymore. For so long it had just been something so linear and for the briefest of times, or so it felt now, a year or two in relative terms she lived where it had no effect and now it seemed like it was everything. It was so slow to have to live day to day and go on. There wasn't the question of "when and where are we?" that came up whenever she'd stumble into the kitchen of the TARDIS half awake and find The Doctor hunched over a book with a cup of coffee. No, now she was met with a table of people who loved her in a hell that she couldn't escape. And now she had to go to work.
Pete folded up the newspaper and gulped down the remnants of the coffee in his mug. After giving a kiss to Jackie and patting the top of Chris' head he looked at Rose with a "ready?" kind of expression. Inwardly she was swimming, just getting out of the chair and standing was a chore anymore. With another practiced smile she leaned over to kiss her brother's cheek as he squealed, reaching out his arms toward her. A sad look crossed her face just as Jackie turned, all frazzled and blonde frizz, and looked at her.
"What time will you be home tonight?"
"I dunno. It depends." Rose was waiting for the inevitable invite. No doubt Jackie had corralled Mickey into going out with them just as she did whenever she figured Rose 'needed a lift.'
"Your father and I have a benefit to go to tonight. You should come…there'll be plenty of people there and you might actually meet some new people-"
"No, mum."
"You haven't been out in ages. I'll call Mickey and we can all go out-"
"No, mum."
An exasperated sigh left Jackie's mouth as she picked Christopher up and put him on her hip, "then at least come home and watch your brother, eh?"
Hazel eyes rolled, "fine."
A kiss on the cheek and another look of disdain from Jackie later both Pete and Rose piled into the sleek, black BMW and were headed into work. She gazed through the tinted windows out at the dismal morning, leaning her forehead against the glass. They always drove in silence, the two of them never having much to say to the other without Jackie around. Pete accepted the fact that it was because of him that she was like this, but he also accepted that if he hadn't gone back for her that she'd more than likely be dead or worse. Rose wasn't his area of expertise and even though in some form she was his daughter he had no ability to talk to her…at least, not about anything important.
"Your mum's just trying to help, y'know."
"I know."
"It wouldn't kill you to go out every once in a while…might make you feel better?"
"Yeah, maybe."
"I just hate to see you like this and I know it makes your mum upset-"
"Can we not talk about this now, dad, please? I've got a killer headache."
Pete nodded and his eyes went back to the road, "fine."
The rest of the drive was silent as Rose pleaded with her body for the headache to go away. Her mind was, quite literally, spinning and the pain behind her eyes throbbed slowly. Through the haze she stared up at the clouds, I haven't felt like this since the day he…changed. When all that power was going through my head…Her eyes closed, the hum of the car lulling her back to sleep. She was spinning slowly, but not slowly all the same time. It wasn't the sick spinning that she felt just before she was going to vomit, no, it was different. This was slower, more rhythmic.
The car pulled into the space just outside a tall building that was on the outskirts of the business district. It was nondescript, ordinary, and looked just like every other building around it. No one really knew what went on behind those doors and what power was housed in those corridors. Nor did they know what pain and suffering had gone on in those rooms inside.
Pete shut the car off just as Rose came to and ran a hand over the red mark on her forehead from the window. He looked at her, eyes taking on a softer light than they had. Rose caught his gaze and for a moment they understood each other that morning and he patted her shoulder just before getting out of the car. She followed not long after, walking behind him and clipping her ID badge to the lapel of her jacket as they walked through the glass doors.
Rides in the lift were always unbearable. The feeling of her stomach plummeting to her feet then jarring back up to her throat always reminded her of how it felt whenever there was a particularly rough landing in the TARDIS and it made her heart ache just that much more. It was the little things anymore, really, even at work that got to her. It took almost every ounce of patience in her against the pain of the headache and the unwillingness to actually work to keep herself from falling apart. Thankfully today seemed to be one of the better days where she wouldn't tear up and have to make a beeline for her office. No, today she'd at least be able to walk through and smile a little.
Rose exited before Pete did and as she stepped out he felt a sudden ache for her. Sure she'd had worse days, but today she just looked as though it was that last straw. Hopefully it wasn't, but if it was he was certainly thankful he wouldn't be on her floor to have to suffer the wrath of when that straw broke.
The people who shared the tenth floor with Rose were all under the job description of Alien Research and Technology Development. She was the head of the department as she had "experience" and "an eye for picking out the needle in the haystack." Actually, her co-workers just thought she'd gotten the job because Pete was her father. Little did they know when she arrived that she was actually knowledgeable on the subject, not to mention more knowledgeable than the employees that had been there since what seemed like forever. She did have the "eye" for picking out what was broken, useful, or even real technology because on more than one occasion something in the lab (or something close to it) had been pointed at her at some point while traveling.
"Good morning, Miss Tyler." A few of them mumbled as she walked past and she nodded in reply, a soft yet slightly pained smile on her face.
She was always the one who was stressed in the office. She was always the one who seemed like she was on the edge of something be it a discovery or a nervous breakdown. The people in the office talked, of course, they wondered what it was that made her seem so far away yet so intense on projects when they came up. When there was downtime to do paperwork she all but disappeared, hidden in her office typing madly into the database trying to update entries or staring down at a piece of paper for what seemed like hours. A project though, brought her out of it and she was a very powerful and respectable leader when it came down to it. Everything they needed to get done got done, and most of the time well before any kind of deadline was set. And forget it if there was an emergency…in the very select few that had happened since her arrival she handled it with more poise and grace than the higher-ups. She was confident when dealing with language or technology or strategy and that was why she was the head of the department.
Rose's office was impressive by any business type standard. It was huge and had expensive furniture ("all the best for the one who can get us out of jams the way you can, Miss Tyler." Her boss had told her.) and beautiful art on the walls. Her desk was made out of gorgeous cherry wood and the sleek computer on it was top of the line. There was a brown leather couch where she had slept on more then one occasion. This office was almost like home, and felt more like home than her home did.
She settled into the desk and rested her head in her hands for a moment, willing the throbbing and spinning to go away. The Doctor had taught her some ways to keep pain like that away with the whole...power of concentration thing, but none of that was working. Whatever it was that was attempting to crawl through her skull was there to stay. Maybe I'm just allergic to this world…wouldn't that be a laugh? She chuckled to herself and sat up, thumbing through the files on her desk and leaned back into the comfortable office chair. Yep, it was definitely going to be a long day judging by the stack of entries and filing she'd be doing for the rest of the morning. But she enjoyed days like this; it gave her time to think.
The computer screen glowed from in front of her as Rose typed her entries for the database. She felt a little proud as she scrolled through the lists of topics and subtopics, most of which had either been added or filled in by her or her team. A surge of pride bubbled up in her heart and for just the minutest of moments she was happy. With that she closed the files on her desk and leaned back, fingers drumming lightly on the keyboard. She sat like that for a moment before slowly typing in the words Time Lord.
No Entry Found.
She sighed and nodded, fingers again tapping softly on the keyboard before she typed in The Doctor.
No Entry Found.
A small smile crept up on her as tears started to fill her eyes. No, there were no such entries in the Torchwood database. She could have put them in if she'd wanted to, but there was a part of her that wanted The Doctor to be all her own. She didn't want to share the information she had with the rest of organization because it would pose questions. Everything she knew posed questions. It took enough of a song and dance already to sidestep the questions of how she knew what she knew and if she were to put in the information, or what she knew about him anyway, about the man who'd helped save this universe it would all become painfully clear that she too wasn't exactly native. And anything that wasn't native was taken and experimented upon. No, there was no need for that.
All was quiet for a while as hazel eyes stared off past the computer and into the wall. It took a few minutes for the tears to subside as she desperately clung to the mantra "don't let them see you cry." Indeed, she was alone. She was always alone. Save for Pete up the Directors' Office she had no one to confide in at work. She had no one to spend lunch with or talk to while she was avoiding something she didn't want to do. It was difficult to get up and deal with it every day, but something deeper kept her at it. Rose's heart seemed to twist as she felt her mind going back to that day on the beach. The smell of salt filled her nose as she saw herself standing by the water, a very translucent version of The Doctor standing right in front of her. She saw herself starting to cry and trying to keep herself calm as they talked.
"There's still a Torchwood on this planet, it's still open for business. I think I know a thing or two about aliens." She'd stammered out, eyes locked on his.
"Rose Tyler, defender of the Earth..." He'd said, and that's what kept her going.
She was a defender of the earth. She'd put herself on the line more than once already in her short stay at Torchwood, but that meant less to her than hearing that come out of those perfect lips. She'd felt more pride then in her work then than she had in all the time from her bosses. It seemed, at least in her mind that he was proud of her and that she wasn't just 'a stupid ape.'
The rest of the day passed like that. She worked a little, but spent most of her day lost in thought. The headache was beginning to make her crazy just as the end of business rolled around. Thankfully no emergencies had come up so she could at least go home without too much trouble. That was the problem, though, she was on call twenty-four seven. The world might need her at the drop of a hat at four in the morning and she had to go. It was times like that when she wished all she did was fold shirts and ring up bitchy customers.
Pete met her downstairs while talking into his mobile. An animated discussion was taking place with harsh whispers and him leaning into the nearest wall so others wouldn't hear. This caught Rose by surprise as she walked up to him, eyebrows raised as Pete held up a hand to stop her from getting too close. She stopped, frozen a few feet away and really unsure of what to do. No one looked, no one stared, but suddenly it felt like all eyes were on her.
Another minute later Pete snapped the mobile shut and turned to her, green eyes darkened with something Rose didn't recognize. His eyes blazed like that for a second before it disappeared and a smile planted itself on his face, "ready to go, love?"
"I…yeah. You okay?"
"Fine. Just fine. The Directors want me to come in early tomorrow and have a meeting about efficiency and I have a feeling that after tonight out with your mum I'm not going to be happy about it. Just trying to negotiate times is all."
"Sure…yeah." Rose answered and waited for him to lead the way out to the car.
The drive home was silent, as always, but Rose noticed that Pete was acting a little strange. He was fidgety and seemed a little all over the place. Jumpy, even, some might think. Every time Rose shifted he'd look at her like she was about to explode or something. This bothered her.
"You sure you're all right?" she asked, lowering her voice a bit.
"I'm fine. Just a long day."
"You're lying."
His eyes darted to look at her for a moment, "Don't call me a liar, Rose. I may not be…your father…but I still am your dad."
She kept her eyes on him for a moment longer before her head seemed to throb harder than it had been all day. She put a hand up on her forehead and leaned back into the seat, craving the darkness and quiet of her room.
"Head still bothering you?" Pete asked, his voice taking on a very paternal tone.
Rose nodded, "worse than normal."
"I'll have an appointment called into the doctor tomorrow morning."
"We already tried that. They didn't find anything."
"We'll try again." He was firm, resolute, and that was the end of the conversation.
The two avoided conversation the rest of the way home, Rose curled up in the seat and Pete with his eyes on the road. He snuck glances at her from time to time, worry pouring out of him like a fountain. Indeed it was another day at Torchwood, but not just any other day.
Later that night as Jackie and Pete got ready for the benefit or whatever it was they were going to Rose rested in the dim light of her room. It was quiet and it actually felt as though maybe her head would stop. The pain was lessening, but the spinning hadn't let up at all. It was so slow and deliberate that it was making her sick. And to make matter worse while she was trapped in the soft haze of pain time seemed to move slower than it already did. The morning seemed to stretch on forever and the night wouldn't be much different. Sure the parents would be gone and she could be happy about that, but how much relief would that get her? She still had to get up the next day and do it all over again.
"Y'sure you don't want to go?" Jackie asked, leaning in the doorway in a beautiful black dress.
"I'm sure."
"We'd have fun…I know how you love to get dressed up."
"I'll stay and watch Chris...someone has to." Rose was annoyed. Very annoyed.
"We'll get a sitter."
"I don't want to go, mum."
Jackie's face fell from the poised and gentle look to something darker and angry, "My Rose wouldn't stay in all the time. She'd want to go out and spend time with her family."
Suddenly anger boiled up from deep within Rose's heart. That was always the argument…'her Rose'. It was always that line. She fought the urge to get up and start shouting like she did when she was younger and Jackie seemed surprised when Rose simply turned over to look her, eyes glittering with tears and her voice shaking and starting to crack.
"I'm not your Rose anymore, mum."
Jackie didn't move for a long time. Rose kept her mother's gaze for as long as she could stand it, but turned over as the tears in her eyes threatened to fall. She didn't need Jackie to come over and comfort her like this now. No, she didn't rely on Jackie anymore to come and comfort her because Jackie couldn't. She tired. God knows she tried, but she wasn't the one Rose needed anymore. With a sigh Jackie shut the door and leaned against it.
"Jacks?" Pete asked, coming down the hall in his suit with Christopher in his arms.
Jackie didn't budge from the door, her face pressed against the wood away from her husband. She fought to not cry, to not smear the hard work on her makeup, and she fought to not just completely lose it. For so long she and Rose had fought, and for so long they just tolerated each other but then once she grew up they got along and things were going so well. Then…she met him.
"Jacks?" Pete asked again, coming a little closer.
Jackie turned to him and stood with her eyes closed and lips pressed together in an attempt to hold everything in place. She shook a little and after a moment Pete reached out a hand and took hers, "It's okay, you know that."
Jackie shook her head, "No…she's right. She isn't my Rose anymore."
"You go finish getting ready. I'm going to put Chris in his room and tell her we're getting ready to leave…why don't you call Mickey and have him come over? Have him talk to her."
A quick, tight nod shook Jackie's blonde curls as she made her way down the hall. Pete watched her go and once she'd gone down the stair her turned Christopher to look at him, "I swear your mum and sister aren't crazy. They just can't talk."
The baby seemed to nod in agreement as Pete took him to the lavish room and put him in the crib. The boy looked so serene, all blonde curls and green eyes. Maybe Rose had looked the same as a child…and somewhere in his heart he wished he could have seen it. With a kiss on the top of the child's head Pete closed the door over a bit and made his way to Rose's door. He knocked quietly a few times and was met with a muffled "I don't want to go!" from the other side.
"It's me."
"Come in." it was surrender.
Pete opened the door and found Rose lying with her head under one of the big feather pillows. If the situation didn't merit him to be upset and worried he might have laughed at another time.
"All the baby needs is a bath and to be put to bed. There's money on the counter if you want to order something in or have the cook make you something."
"Thanks…dad."
"Right. Well then…we'll be back later. I have the mobile on me if you need anything."
"Right. Thanks."
As he went to close the door he stopped and looked as she peeled the pillow off of her face, "Hey, Rose?"
"Yeah, dad?"
Pete licked his lips and sighed softly, "you know you don't have to call me dad whenever your mum's not around, right? You can…you can call me Pete if you're more comfortable with that."
Hazel eyes narrowed a bit as Rose sat up and looked at him, "I…yeah."
"Yeah. Well…goodnight if I don't see you until tomorrow morning."
"Goodnight."
Pete and Jackie had been gone for a few hours already. Rose sat down in the den, one of the only seemingly normal rooms in the house. This was one of the only rooms she could stand in Pete's house…it wasn't huge and filled with expensive furniture. God knew Jackie loved having money and not having to scramble month to month, but Rose missed their old flat with its tiny space and cramped rooms. This huge house seemed so empty all the time and so impersonal. Hell, even the TARDIS and all of its unexplored rooms seemed smaller than the mansion and it was endless.
Christopher sat in her lap and babbled incoherently as Rose flipped aimlessly through the channels on TV. Nothing really interested her and soon the two sat in silence. Christopher looked at his sister with big green eyes, the same as Pete's, and smiled brightly as she bounced him on her knee. A smile worked its way over her lips as she watched her brother, his giggles and arms flailing around making her laugh after too long. Granted, she never really got close to her brother and didn't exactly feel a familial bond with him, but she did feel something protective for him.
"Come on, mister, it's time to get you into bed." Rose murmured and picked him up.
The baby squealed as she lifted him in the air and smiled, his arms going to wrap around her neck. She stopped and held her brother close, a sudden wave of sadness coming upon her. There was a tug in her heart as she looked at Chris, his wide eyes gazing into hers. Then, he wrinkled his nose and cocked his head to one side as she stared.
"Don't look at me like that…" she mused quietly to the baby who kept on.
"Stop it. You're reminding me of 'im." Her voice was choking a little as she watched that face melt away into something else, "Oh, that's right. Mum and Pete don't talk about him…you don't even know who I'm talking about, do you? You have no idea…"
Rose carried Chris up the stairs to his room, cooing to him softly and speaking in whispers as she went down the hall. The baby in her arms never stirred as she put him in the crib and sat in the rocking chair behind it.
"Do you want to hear a story, then? I bet you do. I don't think mum tells you enough stories."
The baby babbled in reply and reached out a hand to her. Rose slid her fingers through the slats of the crib and let him wind his fist around her finger, squeezing tightly as she leaned in closer.
"Let me see…I don't know any good stories. I could tell you about the three little pigs, eh? Or Little Red Riding Hood?"
Chris just looked at her, no real enthusiasm coming from him like it had earlier. He just laid there, her finger wrapped in his fist, waiting for her to just start telling him something. She smiled and leaned in closer, "no, you don't need to hear either of those. In those the Bad Wolf is the villain and I'll tell you that the Bad Wolf is far from bad." She paused and chewed on her lip a bit, "how 'bout I tell you about the Traveling Prince? I bet you've never heard that one, eh?"
Rose smiled and stood, leaning over the crib to look down at her brother who already seemed to be on his was to sleep. She watched him, wondering if she should go on and tell him or just walk away and let him sleep.
"The Traveling Prince wandered for many years…he didn't have a home. He just went around helping people all the time. He was good like that. He did everything he could to help people whenever they needed him. He was very old, but didn't seem it, and he was so…I don't know…" she looked up at the ceiling and sighed, "arrogant is actually a really good word. Rude even, sometimes. But he had a good heart...hearts. Anyway, the Prince lost his home in a fight again something really evil and he fought gallantly-"
"You sure you want to be tellin' 'im this story? Doesn't exactly have a happy ending, does it?" came a voice from behind her. Mickey.
Rose leaned up and turned to him as he leaned against the doorframe, eyes locked on her. She bit on her lip for a moment before she turned back to Chris and kissed his cheek goodnight and started walking toward her friend, "let's not talk about this now in front of him."
Mickey nodded and followed her out, closing the door over behind them. He waited until they got down the hall before he said anything, his hand catching hers to turn her to face him, "your mum told me to come over."
"She always does."
"I'm beginning to notice that. Seems like she wants me here more than you do."
Rose looked at the floor, her tongue rolling over her teeth behind those pouty lips, "that's not true and you know it."
"Could've fooled me."
"I don't think she called you over here to fight with me about this."
"No, but she's worried about you. Worried that you'll run away."
"Run away where? I've got nowhere to go!" Rose hissed, dropping her arms down at her sides.
"Oh that's it, isn't it? You don't go because you haven't got somewhere to be now. But if you did you'd be gone like that." He snapped his fingers and she scowled at him.
"I'm not having this conversation with you again." Rose said finally, holding her hand up and started toward her room.
"It's been a year. We've all had to move on, why can't you?" Mickey called after her.
She turned, blonde hair flipping around her face as rage lit up her eyes, "I didn't ask for anyone's help. I'm moving on just as well as the rest of you."
"Oh yeah, and you're telling your brother stories about a 'Traveling Prince'. I don't seem to remember him being particularly royal, but he and I weren't exactly close. Maybe you knew something I didn't?"
"Shut up. Just shut up!" Rose's head started to swim again and she was spinning. She was spinning faster and faster until her legs collapsed from beneath her.
Mickey ran up to catch her, pulling her body close as she fell. He sighed and lifted her into his arms, heading for her room. As he carried her he shook his head the entire way, anger boiling up inside of him. We've all had to cope with this…why can't she move on too? She thinks she's too special to not have to deal with this?
"If you'd just stayed with me none of this would've happened, you know." He mumbled, laying her across her bed.
"He…saved me…" a soft whisper came from her lips, pained and slightly angry.
"Yeah? Well apparently he was a one trick pony because look what happened."
Her eyes narrowed as Mickey moved toward the door, his walk deliberate and angry. She kept her eyes on him, defiant and had she the ability to get up and slap him she would have.
"I'll stay up until your parents get back. You're obviously not up for the job."
