*sneaks into room, hides behind potted plant and peeks through branches* Um…please don't hurt me…it's not really my fault that the Doctor freaked himself out… Also, can I just say that I adore all you wonderful reviewers? Because I do. A lot. *grabs you close and ruffles your hair*
~OOO~
- Chapter 7 -
I could tell that mum knew I wasn't telling her something, but she didn't say a word about it the whole evening as we watched episode after episode of mind-numbing television. She puttered about the flat as usual the next day too, only popping into my room some time in early afternoon to remind me that we'd be having a guest for tea. I'd been laying there most of the day, staring out the window and hugging a pillow to my chest, moping like the embodiment of a love-scorned teenager and hating myself every second of it—and in retrospect I should have realized who it would be considering it was Wednesday—but my mind was elsewhere, so when there was a loud knock on my bedroom door around four o'clock, I nearly fell off my bed in surprise.
Heart racing, I pushed myself into a sitting position, wide eyes locked on the door as it started to swing open. When a dark-skinned boy with a leather jacket and wide grin poked his head around the corner, eyes skimming the room until they landed on me, I felt my heart sink—and immediately felt awash in guilt for feeling that way. Of course it wasn't him, the Doctor would never use the front door if he could help it. He'd land the TARDIS in the middle of my room—not like he hadn't done it before…
Mickey pushed the door all the way open and stepped into the room as I pushed off the bed and moved toward him. The cheery look on his face faltered as he got his first good look at me, but when I launched myself at his chest his arms came up and wrapped around me automatically and without hesitation.
"I missed you so much!" I mumbled into his neck, hugging him close. I could feel his surprise at my greeting, considering our relationship had only recently made it back into the friend-zone, but Mickey was nothing if not able to roll with the punches—after all, he'd spent a good deal of our relationship being thrown into bizarre situations as I'd dragged him around after the Doctor.
"Heeeey Rose!" Mickey said a bit hesitantly, then made a valiant attempt at his normal charm. "I wish all the girls expressed their love for me as readily as you do!"
I laughed a little shakily, burying my face in his shoulder for a moment, then pulled back far enough to see his face. "I'm sorry I haven't been 'round to see you lately, Mickey."
He kept one hand against my back while the other rose to stoke my hair. He grinned down at me. "Too busy chasing stars?"
Too soon, I thought, and felt my lower lip tremble. Mickey's keen eyes spotted it right off and he opened his mouth to say something. I turned away, stepping out of his arms and winding my fingers through his. "Let's go grab chips for supper, alright?"
Mickey glanced between me and the hallway, obviously thinking of mum. "What about your mum?" he asked, confirming my suspicions. "I did promise Jackie a Mickey Smith specialty tonight!"
I smirked at him, recalling his cooking ability. "Bangers and mash again, is it?"
Mickey snorted, looking offended. "I'll have you know that my culinary skills have vastly improved whilst you've been off gallivanting through the universe!"
I raised an eyebrow, daring him to prove it. "Mmmhmm?"
He caved. "Buuuuut I'm sure your mum can wait til the weekend to be blown away by Chef Mickey's latest creations. Chips on me, alright?"
I let Mickey lead me down the hallway, hand warm and firm around mine, and called to mum that we were grabbing a bite down the road and would be back later. I couldn't help but notice the way mum's eyes lit up when she spied our entwined fingers, but didn't have the time or inclination to stop and explain to her that there was nothing to be read into by it.
Mickey was familiar and safe, and above all just a normal bloke. And I really needed normal in my life right now. He let me hold his hand all the way down the street to the tiny take-away shop where we'd grabbed dinner so many times in the past, then lead me through the park to a bench by large stone fountain to eat. We'd sat here countless times when we'd been dating, and even though we were no longer together that way this place still felt special to me.
We ate in silence for a few minutes before I broke the quiet. "How's Jessa?"
Mickey glanced over at me, mouth full of fish. He swallowed then turned his gaze to the gently plashing water in the basin of the fountain across from us. "Enjoying Dover, I expect."
I raised an eyebrow at him. "Bit of a commute, don't you think? Unless you—you haven't moved in with her, have you?" The last bit hurt. Mickey had been seeing Jessa for only a few months, much shorter than our relationship, and we hadn't progressed that far when we'd been together. Mickey's head swiveled back toward me.
"What? Blimey Rose! No! I meant she's moved back to her parents' flat." He flickered a glance between his remaining chips and me. "We broke up a few weeks ago."
Curiosity burned inside me but I didn't pry. "Tough break." I offered, and Mickey shrugged, popping the last of his supper into his mouth and crumpling up the now-empty wrappers. He'd always been a fast eater.
"It was at the time, I guess. But the fit wasn't right. When two people are really meant to be together you can just feel it, you know?" His gaze on me stayed just a fraction too long, and I looked away.
This time I was the one to gaze at the fountain as if it held all the answers. "Yeah…" I mumbled, not hungry any more. I could feel Mickey's eyes on me.
"Rose?" he asked, a bit hesitantly. "You'd tell me if there was something wrong, right? You know that I'm always here for you, even if we aren't going out any more. Mates before dates, as you once said..." He elbowed me playfully in the side, trying to get a smile out of my melancholy mood.
I turned back to face him, glancing up through thick lashes, a sad attempt at a smile on my suddenly trembling lips. I watched as Mickey's face fell, his smooth brow creasing and his eyes darkening with concern…and something like anger.
"Rose? What happened?"
I couldn't say it. I couldn't confess the rollercoaster my life had become the last couple of weeks in the TARDIS. What would he think of me? Our relationship had fallen apart because of my infatuation with the Doctor; why should I have any right to sympathy from the person at the very top of my Scorned Lovers list?
My eyes abruptly filled with tears and I blinked hard, trying to force them back, but Mickey saw. Without another word he leaned across the bench and gently plucked the flimsy cardboard container that held the remains of my dinner out of my trembling hands and placed it on the bench to my left. I could feel my cheeks flushing with the strain of holding back a sob and knotted my fingers on my lap to try and disguise their shaking. My supper taken care of, Mickey slid across the remaining few inches of the wooden bench until he was pressed up against me, knee to knee, then he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against his chest and tucking my head against his shoulder. I curled into the warmth of him, fingers clutching at his soft t-shirt, inhaling London, and security, and friendship, and all the smells and sensations that went with him, and I let go.
The longer I cried the tighter I could feel Mickey's arms become around my body. After an age I felt the ache in my chest ease the tiniest bit, and I attempted to reign in my pity fest. Mickey didn't say anything for a long time, letting me get myself back under control. It wasn't until the sounds I was making were more hiccups and less like the end of the world that he said anything at all. When he did speak however, he pulled no punches.
"What did he do, Rose?"
There was no mistaking who he meant, but I couldn't make the name pass my lips. When I didn't answer I could feel Mickey's embrace loosen slightly, as he tried to get a look at my face.
"Rose?" he pressed, sounding slightly anxious now. "What happened?"
Slowly I lifted my head to meet his eyes. Oh Mickey, so sweet and understanding and in every way normal, how could I tell him I'd gone and fallen in love with the mad, time-travelling alien man from a planet he'd never even heard of? The man I'd left him for.
The man who'd crushed my heart.
"I…I…" I tried, and my voice trembled violently. I stopped myself, took a steadying breath and tried again. "I did something stupid, Mickey."
He held my eyes, his gaze as soft and warm. He gently brushed my hair back from my tear-stained face, his fingers lingering against my cheek. There was something like longing in his eyes. "What did you do?"
The question was gentle but I still flinched back from it. I dropped my gaze. "I kissed him."
To his credit Mickey only cringed a little. Then he shifted on the bench, his voice low in my ear. "And what did he do when you did that?" He paused for half a heartbeat. "Or do I want to know?"
I almost laughed. Almost. I swallowed back the hysterical impulse and continued on. "At first he pushed me away. It was obvious he didn't feel the same way. But later…" My voice trailed off. Later….
A memory of heat…strong hands gripping my body…lips on mine…on my throat…
"Later?" Mickey prompted, after several seconds had passed.
I shook myself out of the memory. "Later he…tried."
I couldn't make myself admit that I'd pushed him into it. That I'd practically threatened to leave the TARDIS if he couldn't care about me in the exact way I wanted. That he'd tried to force feelings that obviously weren't there into existence and ended up disgusted with me.
Mickey didn't need to hear that part, which was fine, as his reaction to the three words I'd managed to get out caused enough trouble to be getting on with.
Mickey jerked away from me, his hands falling from around my back to grip my forearms almost painfully. He bent his head to make me to meet his eyes. "He tried something with you, Rose? Did he hurt you? Did he try and force you to—?"
I stared in surprise at the sudden intensity in Mickey's normally calm dark eyes, but his words jerked me out of my reverie and I blinked at him. "W-what?"
Mickey's jaw was tight and his eyes were hard. He looked pissed. "I mean, while you were out there, just the two of you, alone in space, did that Doctor try and make you—"
It hit me then, what he was getting at, and I felt my eyes widen in shock. "What? No!" The words burst out of me so vehemently that Mickey recoiled. I worked to steady myself. "Mickey, no, he'd never hurt me like that. I swear!" Mickey didn't look entirely convinced of this, but his grip on my arms loosened a fraction.
"Then why," he began slowly, making an obvious effort to keep the anger out of his voice, "did you spend the last fifteen minutes soaking my t-shirt?" He leaned back against the bench, his hands falling away from my arms only to come to rest over my fingers. His palms were callused and warm, and comforting. When Mickey continued speaking he sounded frustrated. "Rose, your mum said you showed up out of the blue yesterday, lookin' like hell and trying to hide it. And then you spent all of today holed up in your bedroom, not talking to her, not calling any of your mates—"
"You're my only mate here," I mumbled, and Mickey's fingers tightened over mine.
"That's exactly my point, Rose. You're so caught up with that Doctor that you haven't made time for your family, let alone had time to fine a bloke who's idea of a good time doesn't involve one or both of you running for your lives."
I said nothing to this because there was nothing to say. He was right. But I couldn't find it within me to regret any of my choices over the past few years. For all the heartache it had brought me, I wouldn't trade travelling with the Doctor for any universe in the galaxy, including my own.
"It wasn't him." I said at length. "I mean, it was, but it wasn't his fault. Not really." Mickey was silent, waiting for me to continue. I hurried on before I could chicken out. "I told him how I felt…about him…" I couldn't look at Mickey as I confessed that. "He said…well, he said that he cared about me…but it wasn't the same way, I could tell…not like how I felt…" I played with a button on my shirt, finding it easier tell my story to my knees than my former boyfriend. "I tried to let it go, tried to just be mates, you know? But it was too hard…too hard not to read into the little things, the way he'd look at me, or innocently touch my arm…I couldn't take it in the end. I…" I swallowed hard and felt Mickey's reassuring squeeze of my hands, urging me to finish. "I gave him an ultimatum. I…" I took a deep breath and then said it all in a rush. "I told him that it hurt too much to stay with him if he didn't—couldn't—feel about me like I did about him…that I'd rather go home."
I cut off there, awash in feelings, like I was standing waist deep in the ocean and waves kept sneaking up behind me and smacking me face first into the surf. I could barely breathe through the remembered pain.
"What did he say?" Mickey asked, and he sounded like he wasn't sure he really wanted to hear the answer. I wasn't really sure I wanted to tell it. But I did anyway.
"He kissed me." I said simply, and felt Mickey go still beside me. "I said he tried, remember? I told him if he couldn't return my feelings I didn't think I could stay, and he kissed me."
Unconsciously I raised my fingers to touch my lips, remembering the Doctor's bruising kisses…the heat of his mouth….the taste of his tongue…—I shook my head quickly, dispelling the images.
"But he pushed me away, Mickey." My voice hitched the tiniest bit and I swallowed hard, trying to force back the bitter memory. But in the fashion of Hell's denizens everywhere, it shoved its way brutally to the forefront of my mind. "He held me so close…and I really thought that maybe…maybe he—but I was wrong…I disgusted him." The words came out in a whisper that turned into in whimper, and I ducked my head in shame.
"And he dumped you back in London," Mickey finished for me. I gave a tiny jerk of my head to simulate a nod and heard Mickey sigh heavily. He dropped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me against his side again. "You listen to me, Rose Tyler," and his voice was suddenly commanding, enough so that I lifted my head to look at him; Mickey's face was fierce. "Any bloke that can't see how wonderful you are ought have his head examined. And anyway, what would life have been like with a mad alien like him anyway? He was always so cryptic and pompous, and he was always pulling idiotic stunts—getting people nearly killed!"
I knew he was just trying to make me feel better, but each of Mickey's comments stung like a barb. Because the Doctor may have been arrogant at times, but he'd also been around for hundreds of years, he knew so much more than the rest of us, and he was mysterious for good reason—it was so much safer for the rest of the Earth not to get involved with his actions—something that I had fully ignored from the first time I'd met him. Yet, despite his faults, the Doctor was so much more. He was kind and generous and funny and thrilling….and he was mine.
At least, he had been…
"Are you gonna be ok, Rose?" Mickey asked then, and paused seeming to reconsider his question. "I mean, is he gonna come back? What will you do if he does?"
I honestly didn't know what I'd do if I ever saw the Doctor again, though considering our last encounter I didn't think I'd be seeing him any time soon. I shrugged. "I don't know."
~OOO~
We walked back to the flat arm in arm half an hour later, and when Mickey had seen me up to our front door I gave him a tight hug that neither of us seemed to want to let go of. Finally I pulled back and gave him a smile that was two thirds genuine. "It was really good to see you today, Mick," He smiled back and I felt an echo of the old warmth that used to flood though me when whenever I saw him. "Don't be a stranger ok?"
"Your mum would never let me," he promised, raising his voice a tad to make sure Jackie could hear him from the living room.
"Don't be daft," Mum called from down the hall. "You'd show up here even if I barred the door."
With both grinned at that. "See you later." I said, and then stretched up on my toes and kissed him on the cheek. Mickey's grin widened.
"I'll ring you tomorrow, alright? Maybe we can go to the cinema or take a walk or something?"
"Yeah, alright." I smiled back, and closed the door as Mickey waved and then turned to head down the hallway to the stairs. I sighed, leaning against the door for a long moment, knowing that mum was just around the corner waiting to pounce. Finally I squared my shoulders and marched toward the living room with the air of a solider heading to their execution.
Mum was sitting on the couch, leaning against the armrest with her legs drawn up and a magazine open across her knees. It was obvious she'd been eavesdropping due to the fact that magazine was some tosh full of recipes and stepford-perfect women who all claimed to have "easily whipped up a 20 minute meal from scratch" all while wearing heels and cocktail dresses, and looking like they'd just left the salon. Mum was practically on a first name basis with the local take-away spots. I dropped down onto the couch by her feet and raised an eyebrow at her.
"Ok, let's have it."
Mum hid behind her magazine a moment longer, the top of her dyed blonde head poking out at the top. She was pretending to be absorbed in a recipe, but I caught her eye when she tried to sneak a glance at me and raised an eyebrow at her.
Mum lowered her magazine with great dignity and attempted nonchalance. "Have a nice time?"
I leaned back against the couch and hugged a throw pillow to my chest thinking through the evening. "Yeah, I did." I said honestly, because despite my breakdown, or perhaps because of it, I did feel better. I felt a smile tug at my lips. "I really missed him, you know?"
Mum grinned. "More than me?"
"Don't be stupid." I tossed my pillow at her and she batted it out of the way with her magazine. We both laughed and I leaned up against her legs, resting my head on top of her knees. "You didn't mind it so much when I was gone, did you?" I hadn't really meant to ask the question, but now that I had I found that I really wanted to know the answer.
Mum was silent a moment before replying. "I miss you, Rose, of course I do. But I always knew that you were safe with him lookin' out for you. And if you really wanted to be there—it made you happy, I mean—than who was I to stand in your way?" She watched my face carefully as she said this and I worked to school my features into blankness. "You didn't look very happy when you showed up yesterday, Rose."
I sat back, drawing my own knees up against my chest. "I was happy with him, mum." She said nothing, just pinned me with a patented Mum gaze that looked right through me, knowing there was something I wasn't saying. "We had a…misunderstanding…" I hedged. I loved my mother, but telling Mickey had been hard enough, I didn't think I could stand to make the same horrible confession twice in one day. "I think we might need a bit of a break for a while."
Mum eyed me for a long moment then nodded. "Don't worry, love, men always were a fickle lot; if he's as brilliant as you're always saying he is then he'll come around soon enough." She smiled softly and reached forward to squeeze my arm, then tugged me gently so that I slid sideways onto her legs again. Then she shifted so I landed beside her and tucked me against her side like she used to do when I was small, and had had a bad dream or a tough day at school, laying my head on her shoulder and drawing the battered old afghan over the pair of us. I leaned against her chest and closed my eyes, allowing myself to just be a girl with her mother, and drew comfort from the fact that Jackie Tyler had been and always would be the one constant in my life.
~OOO~
The credits were rolling on the movie mum had turned on sometime later that evening and I blinked my eyes sleepily, realizing that I'd passed out somewhere in the middle of the rom-com she'd chosen. I felt glad that I'd missed most of the movie, I wasn't sure I could stomach romance at the moment. Glancing over at mum I discovered she'd also fallen asleep, her mouth hanging wide open as she snored loudly. I snorted at the sight she made then quickly covered my mouth with my hand, lest I wake her up.
Gingerly I extracted myself from the couch cushions, discovering my right leg had fallen asleep. I had to hobble down the hall to my bedroom practically single-footed, biting my lip as pins and needles exploded down my leg. It took twice as long to cross our tiny flat to my crowded pink bedroom, but once I reached it I nearly fell into bed. The past two days had been full of warm memories and friendly faces, but seeing Mum and Mickey had only added a different kind of pain to the hurt I was still struggling with.
I changed into sweats and a tank top and yanked back my duvet, eager to slide between the cool sheets and drop into the oblivion of sleep. Once under the covers, exhaustion took over and I was out within minutes.
~OOO~
The next morning I woke up feeling rested, which was a refreshing change from the last few days. I spent a long stretch in the shower, letting the too-hot water massage the tension from my muscles. When the water began to run cold I finally stepped out and wrapped myself in my fluffy robe, blow-drying my hair and then brushing it until it fell in sleek waves around my shoulders. I dressed in jeans and a pink tank top and was pawing through the mess at the bottom of my closet in search of a pair of strappy sandals I'd last worn at the beginning of summer, when my mobile buzzed on the bedside table. I grabbed it up and saw Mickey's name on the call display. I answered the call with a smile in my voice.
"Good morning!" I sang, the rush of joy at the familiarity in this simple action was almost overwhelming.
"Hiya," Mickey responded, sounding pleased at my greeting. "I'm just down the street from your flat. Queue at the coffee shop is a mile long. Want anything?"
I dropped onto the mess of blankets that was my bed and considered what kind of coffee I wanted. "Oh! Gotcha!" I crowed, suddenly spying the elusive sandals poking out from under a jumper on the floor by my dresser.
"What's that?" Mickey asked, sounding distracted. I could hear a tangle of voices from other customers in the background.
"Nothing, nothing…" I chirped, "Just found my shoes. I'll take something sweet. Mocha-frappa-caramel something-or-other."
Mickey laughed. "I don't think that's a real drink."
"Whatever. Just be here as soon as you can and be bearing caffeine."
"Rodger Wilko." Mickey replied, "Should be there in fifteen or so."
"Mmmhmmm…" I murmured, distracted. I'd pinned my mobile between my ear and my shoulder and grabbed hold of my pink duvet to start making my bed. I'd just given the blanket a firm shake into the air, attempting to get it to settle evenly over the mattress, and nearly missed the flutter of a small piece of yellow paper, flipped into the air at the movement of the duvet and currently floating gently back to Earth like an oversized month.
Letting the blanket fall crookedly onto the bed, I dropped to my knees on the carpet to squint at the paper, the sound of Mickey telling off some sod who'd tried to cut the queue in front of him faded into white noise in the background. There was some sort of scribbling on the paper. I bent closer and blinked hard, gaze focusing on what was written there.
Or, more appropriately, what was drawn there.
I snatched the yellow paper off the carpet and sat back, suddenly shaking violently. The paper held a large circular image interspersed with lines and curves and small circles, a swirly pattern that, though I couldn't technically "read" it, I understood as plainly as if it had been written in English: My name.
Mickey forgotten, I stared at the paper. This note had been written in Circular Gallifreyan, and that meant that sometime this morning, sometime within the last half hour, the Doctor had been in my room.
I sat on the carpet for a long minute, feeling my heart thrum in my chest like a frantic bird. I felt dizzy and sick and desperate and elated…and then wondered how any one person could feel all those emotions at the same time and not explode. Why had he been here? What did his note mean? I looked down at it again and realized that the paper was folded in half: the symbol for my name was written on the top, but when I flipped the note open I realized that there were words printed in English on the inside. The letter was short:
"Rose Tyler,
I realize that our last encounter was not my finest hour, and of course I will not hold it against you for wanting to go on living your life without me. I'm so sorry for the way I treated you. I have no words to express my deep regret. Perhaps one day you can forgive me.
–The Doctor".
It was his farewell note. I stared down at the paper, unseeing, for a long moment, my mind reeling. He wasn't…going to…come back.
Not ever.
He hadn't even been able to bear telling me goodbye in person.
My own breathing sounded loud in my ears and the paper fell from my hand, fluttering gently to the ground. My mobile slipped from my shoulder a second later, bouncing onto the carpet. I was vaguely aware of the sound of Mickey asking what that sudden thump was but couldn't move to pick up the phone, my body felt frozen with shock.
Then, with no warning beyond the abrupt buzzing in my ears, the world tilted violently, blackness rushing in at all sides like I'd plunged into a lake of dark water…and then the world dropped away.
~OOO~
"…..Rose…"
The voice sounded very far away, strangely echoing as if it were coming from down a well or at the end of a long tunnel.
"Rose?"
I pushed against the darkness, feeling suffocated, struggling to find my way to the owner of that sound. I could feel hands on me, gently patting my face and shaking my shoulder.
"Come on sweetheart, wake up. Rose?"
My mouth felt dry, like it was full of cotton. I moaned, my head still reeling, and struggled to open my eyes. The hands on me became restraining, pressing me down against the carpet when I made an attempt to sit up.
"Rose? Are you ok?" That was Mickey's voice. Mickey? What was he doing in my bedroom? Then the aroma of dark roast coffee wafted past my nose and I remembered the phone conversation we'd been having.
"Mickey?" I mumbled, finally prying my eyes open and discovering his anxious face inches from my own.
"Are you ok? Did you hit your head? Rose, what happened? We were chatting and then I heard a thump, and static, and you wouldn't answer!" Mickey gently helped me into a sitting position, his expression uneasy.
"My head's fine." I said in response to his torrent of questions. I supposed I was lucky that I'd already been kneeling on the carpet when I'd fainted, my room was crowded and there had been every chance that I might have brained myself on a sharp corner of a bookshelf or the edge of my iron bedframe when I'd fallen over.
Mickey was staring hard at my eyes. "Are you sure you don't have a concussion? Do you have a headache? Can you see ok?"
I still felt dizzy but it wasn't from passing out. "No headache, promise." I tried to smile reassuringly but my lips refused to form the shape.
Mickey was hovering by my side like mother hen, his mobile in his hand now. "Do you want me to call your mum?" he asked, sliding an arm around my waist when I pushed myself to my knees, struggling to stand up. He helped me back up to the bed and then sit down on it.
"Call mum?" I parroted, glancing over at him in confusion. "Isn't she here?"
"No," he answered, eying me as if he thought the concussion more and more likely. "She's out, remember? Note's on the kitchen table. I let myself in with the key Jackie gave me for when we do tea. She's down the high street doing errands right now."
"Oh." The word sounded hollow in my mouth. So that's how he'd snuck in. Mum had gone out shopping before I'd woken up and then I'd been in the shower; all he'd had to do was wait and then slip in while no one was looking.
"Rose," Mickey prompted again, and I flickered my eyes his way. "You really scared me just now. You have no idea how freaked out I was when I got to your flat and found you passed out on the floor! What the bloody hell happened?!"
My eyes moved to the unobtrusive yellow paper laying innocently in the middle of the room, next to the sandals that had seemed so important a few minutes ago. Mickey followed my gaze and his eyes narrowed when he spotted the note. The bed creaked as he moved forward to stoop down and pick it up. I watched him silently as he scanned the drawing on the front and then flipped it open and skimmed the inner contents. When he was finished he turned to look at me, understanding dawning on his face.
"Oh." He echoed my earlier statement, looking like someone does when you tell them a family member of yours has died, and they want to say something comforting but are afraid they might mess up and say something that sounds trivial, so instead they say nothing at all, just look at you with that mixture of horror and regret and a tiny bit of relief that it wasn't themselves in your position.
"Yeah." I replied, still feeling numb to the whole event.
We sat together in silence for another minute, both staring off into the middle distance, thinking our respective thoughts, though when I chanced a glance at Mickey's face out of the corner of my eye his thoughts appeared to be a tad more violent than mine were.
"Right, we're getting out of here." Mickey announced, grabbing my hand and pulling me up off the bed. I allowed him to lead me out of my bedroom and into the hall without protest, realizing he'd scooped up my sandals as we'd left the room. I tugged my shoes on when Mickey paused to open the door to the flat and then preceded him into the hall, allowing him to lock up behind us.
"Where are we going?" I asked once we'd reached the main floor and come out into the empty lot behind my building.
Mickey draped an arm around my waist, pulling me into his side. "A walk; just getting' some fresh air and sunshine into you."
I hmmed at his attempt at casualness, but couldn't manage much more than that. So walk we did, although that mostly equated to Mickey guiding me down streets and out of the paths of trees and people. A flash of blue out of the corner of my eye brought me up short, and I gasped, struggling to get out of from under Mickey's arm. I lurched toward the blue police box, my heart racing—
—and a bobby in a black and white uniform and bright yellow jacket stepped out, an elderly woman close behind him. I stumbled to a halt and felt Mickey step up beside me.
"Rose…" he started, voice quiet, but concern for my sanity evident in the way he said my name. I stepped away from him.
"I—I thought…I thought that…but of course it wasn't." I hugged my arms around myself. The day was warm but the sun had gone behind a cloud and goosebumps had risen on my arms from the sudden rush of adrenaline.
"Maybe going for a walk wasn't such a good idea," Mickey began. I shook him off.
"No, I needed to get out of that room. Thanks Mickey." I offered him a small smile that was more of a grimace. "But I think I want to be on my own for a bit, alright? I'll ring you later."
Mickey frowned at me, probably wondering if it was safe to leave me on my own in my current emotional state. I didn't give him time to reconsider, turning away and starting to walk down the street….in the opposite direction from the police box.
"Rose…" he called after I'd gone a few feet.
"Later!" I shouted back, not turning, and he didn't follow.
~OOO~
I wondered London for hours, not stopping to rest until the throbbing of my feet in my thin sandals finally became painful enough to penetrate the thick fog wrapped about my brain. I found myself in Hyde Park, miles from home but too tired to care. I dropped to the ground under a tree in a deserted part of the park, leaning against the trunk and staring up at the sky, remembering all the adventures I'd had 'out there' and wondering if I'd truly never have any more.
I didn't move from my tree for a long time, barely noticing the passage of time until my empty stomach growled and I glanced down at my belly, realizing that I hadn't eaten breakfast this morning and I'd abandoned Mickey before we could stop for a snack anywhere. I was surprised to realize that dusk was falling now…I hadn't realized how many hours had passed during my zombie walk around town…and the temperature was beginning to drop. I decided to head for the tube and make a stop on the way home for take-away. Maybe I'd call Mickey and ask him if he wanted to come eat with me; I really should have rung him hours ago. He was probably worried sick.
I patted down my jeans pockets, searching for my mobile, and came up empty-handed, every pocket flat and devoid of contents. I realized then that my mobile was probably still on the floor in the middle of my bedroom where I'd dropped it this morning, and my wallet was in my purse, which was on the coffee table in the living room. I was officially broke and stranded, and despite the oncoming darkness, I couldn't bring myself to care.
"Come on feet," I muttered, turning to begin the long trek back across the park. "It's only five hundred miles to our door; let's try not to become the Proclaimers poster-child."
I was nearly across the bridge over the Serpentine when I spotted a flash of blue in the shadows. I slowed, not stopping entirely, and narrowed my eyes, looking again. I thought I might be able to make out something blue beyond the trees, though I wasn't sure. I'd come to a complete stop now, the setting sun at my back stretching my shadow out ahead of me as I crept forward.
I shouldn't look, I told myself. I'd gotten my hopes up once today and look what that had done to my already broken heart. But I couldn't help myself. I started to run, my sandals slapping against the stones of the bridge, my eyes locked on the spot in the trees where I was sure I'd seen a flash of blue. I barreled through the forested area and burst out into a clearing—
—and there it was: a blue police box, sitting off to one side, tucked into a copse of trees.
I skidded to a halt in front of it, breathing hard, knowing that if this turned out to be a dead end too I would completely shut down. Heart beating frantically in my chest, I slowly approached the doors and stretched out a shaking hand to try the handle. It was locked.
I stared at the door and rattled the handle again. It was locked. It took a moment for the meaning to sink in. Police box doors were never locked; they were always open to the public. Only one blue police box in the universe would ever refuse to open under a human hand…
There was a sound behind me, a shoe sliding over loose pebbles on the path. I froze, my fingers still locked tightly around the police box door handle. I suddenly couldn't breathe.
"What are you doing here, Rose Tyler?"
The voice was careful, neutral, and completely familiar. I turned slowly around, my entire body trembling so hard I was sure it was visible even in the growing darkness, and there he was, not ten feet away from me.
The Doctor stood next to the Serpentine, wearing a brown pinstripe suit, the jacket open over a blue denim button down shirt, layered over a gray t-shirt, red Converse trainers on his feet. His hands were deep in his trouser pockets and his brown overcoat flapped in the wind.
He was really here; so close I could almost touch him. We stared at each other for a long moment, neither of us speaking, my mind reeling. Why was he here? Wasn't he supposed to be gone and never coming back?
"Doctor?" I whispered, and blinked hard, terrified that if tears blurred my vision the man in front of me would vanish into the ether like smoke. Disbelief and terror warred in that single word, and hope….hope blazed up around me like a tempest. When he didn't say anything, just kept staring at me from across the clearing, I took a step toward him…and swayed.
His neutral expression cracked when I stumbled, and I could tell that he thought I was about to faint. I wasn't sure he was wrong either. But when he took a step toward me, hands rising to catch at me, I lurched away from him, bumping up against the police box door. The faintest concerned vibe floated through the air from the TARDIS but I was too completely thrown to reassure her.
The Doctor froze, palms up, fingers outstretched, looking as if I'd hit him. His face closed down and he slowly lowered his arms to his sides, taking a step back from where I was pressed up against the TARDIS.
"Rose," he said carefully, holding himself perfectly still. "It's dangerous to be out this late at night, why are you here?"
I pressed my palms against the wood of the TARDIS' door, the solid box reassuring me that I hadn't had a mental breakdown in the middle of Hyde Park. The Doctor was really standing across from me, the TARDIS was really at my back, and I really had no idea what to say to either of them.
~OOO~
Everybody together now: Enough angst already! *cackles evilly*
Reviewer thank-you time! :) Oh you guys…I laughed so much over the reviews for chapter 6! Ya'll are so much fun! I'm sorry I'm such a 'mean' author. Hahaha! XD
Lilbitjrfan8 – Alas, the TARDIS and the Doctor DID leave! Cue much heartache! But then they came back. The question now is: how long was he gone for? ;)
OpalKitty – I'm glad the pacing is still good. And I had a lot of fun writing that kissing scene. ;) Poor Doctor, scared himself good!
EmeraldEyedDreamer – Ahaha! The first line of your review made me smile all day. I really feel that I'm doing my job as a writer if I can get someone that annoyed at a fictional character. ;) Also, I laughed for a good five minutes over the "What's got his sonic in a knot?" line. XD
BEASBeth – *hugs you* Your review was so sweet and made me smile so big! :D Also, I'm completely flattered that you think my scribblings good enough to compare to RTD! *blushes*
LokiGirl – Poor Doctor, you'd think he'd figure it out by now, considering he thinks himself so clever and all. ;)
Inu-Twins – Thanks for the review! Glad you liked the story so far! :)
Fallenfaeangel – The angst level has been rather high, hasn't it? Perhaps next chapter we can do something about that? ;)
