BRIT-PICKER/BETA STILL WANTED FOR THIS FIC!
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, obviously. I also don't own several of the concepts I ran into in passing in other people's fanfics and anything else you might recognise from somewhere else also doesn't belong to me.
Author's Notes: A few of the names of places here are taken from actual Doctor Who canon and then messed with to indicate the linguistic shift that most likely would have occurred between the Gallifreyan equivalent of somewhere between the industrial revolution and the 21st century, and by the time the Doctor is born. Or loomed. Or whatever. Because that was a long time, and linguistic shifts happen.
Nat caught up to Rose the day after she was released from Isolation. "Are you alright?" he asked.
"I'm fine," she said. "Did that guard, Pal . . . bloody hell, did he talk to you? The one who dragged me off?" she asked.
Looking intrigued, he said, "No, why?"
Glancing around, she tugged him hastily out of the way of any listeners. "He said that he got in here under false pretences. He's looking for his son. He said they took the kid away before his parents could try, what was it? Stronger techniques to bond with him."
Nat's eyes widened a moment, then he said. "That's clever. The ways people induce bonds between lovers is . . . intense. Because you're looking to induce the same strength of a bond in someone without any sort of genetic tie, it has a different sort of approach to it." He nodded thoughtfully. "That could certainly create a stabilisation sort of thing for a child who was just too weak to finish the bond on his or her own."
That made her wonder a little if the Doctor could have one of those bonds with someone like her, someone who was just human. She internally shook off the thought, because he wasn't that way with her. She suddenly realised she'd better say something. "Huh," Rose said. Then continued grasping at something to say so she wouldn't sound quite as stupid. "Well, in the meantime, that means he'll help us. I told him about the first part of the plan, so we should probably include him in things, you know? I mean, unless you think he's a spy or something."
"If you don't I'm more than willing to give him a chance, but I'll definitely look out for him." They talked a while longer about creating a network of support outside and what their specific objectives were and how to explain it to the same people who thought it was better they be locked up.
They were interrupted by one of the other inmates. One who'd lived there his whole life, who was a leader among the headblind inhabitants of the institution. "I don't know what you two are thinking, but you need to stop with whatever crazy plans you're making. What would we do out there? Even if we could get regular jobs, you know the guards all look down on us, think we're incapable. In here we're with people like us. People who know what it's like to be . . . alone."
"The Doctor knows," Rose said, determined. "He's been all alone in his head ever since his people died. If anyone would know what it's like to be alone, it's him. But just because you can't feel other people in your head, just because they can't hear you in theirs, it doesn't mean you can't read and write and think and do complex maths and all sorts of things."
Nat backed her up. "The schooling in here for the children is atrocious," he said. "It might be different if there wasn't wasted potential every which way, but these children deserve better."
"Don't you want to be able to have a family?" Rose asked. "I mean, this no fraternisation rule, 's'like they don't want people to have relationships either."
"I don't want to pass on my flawed genes to a child," snapped the man. "What sort of life would that be?"
"So, you don't want to fall in love?" Rose asked, "Go for walks on the beach? Picnic in the park? See a mountain range? Museum?" Now that she'd travelled with the Doctor, the limitations these people lived with seemed even more limited than they would have before she'd left the Powell Estate behind as her home. But even then, to have been told she couldn't save up her money for a week's holiday in Paris, or to go see Stonehenge or the British Museum if she wanted, to save up special to have the trip of a lifetime to somewhere like Australia or Barbados, even if that had been the limit of available ambition, it was more than these people had. "Do you ever get to leave here?"
"Why would we want to-" he started, but Rose's roommate, the woman who had retreated into herself, had crept up to them.
She broke in. "What . . . what is out there?" she asked, gesturing. "I mean, you sound like you've seen a . . . a beach. What's it like?"
Rose winced a little, then nudged at Nat, hoping he'd pick up on the fact that she needed him to cover for her. She'd already seen the grass in the courtyards was red. The dirt seemed dirt-coloured, but who knew about anything else? "Depends on the beach," she said slowly. "Some beaches are all pebbles," she glanced around, spotting a children's play park to the side. "Like in the play park over there. And some of them are sandy, like the sandbox that way. I've seen some where the water's just so cold and dark and deep-looking, and others where it's all warm and sparkly."
"Like that giant puddle that shows up when it rains," Nat said, "Only so very much bigger."
"Sometimes in winter things get all frozen and you can go skating," Rose added. When Nat looked at her, confused, she said hastily, "You can put on special shoes with metal blades on the bottoms and glide on the ice. Some people play games that way, 'cause you can go faster, but it's also hard not to slip and fall."
Nat shot her a sidelong look, but said, "What does my inability to project emotions or thoughts to someone have to do with my never getting to see the Arcalian Woods?"
"Alright! Break it up!" shouted one of the guards who'd finally noticed their little argument and impassioned speeches. Rose and Nat were both dragged off to Isolation for rabble rousing. When they were let out Nat was trembling, and when he saw her he turned and suddenly clung on, his arms briefly wrapping around her.
"What happened?" Rose asked, worried. He was normally so self-possessed, this sudden hugging got her worried.
He shuddered. "Deprivation cell," he mumbled into her shoulder. "They block out the ability to sense other people. The silence, it's terrible."
The Doctor had sometimes got a little like this. When he'd had that bit of sleep he needed once a month, when he'd been reminded of the Time War or something else horrible, he'd get just a bit clingy, just a bit touchy, especially since he'd regenerated. Wondering if maybe it wasn't just a Doctor thing, but a telepath thing (possibly, if her guess that these were long lost Time Lords was right it was a Time Lord thing), Rose laced her fingers through Nat's, trying to offer him whatever comfort she could.
He made a choked noise and burrowed his head into her shoulder. She wasn't sure how much later it was, but he was taking shuddering breaths of relief finally, easing away and letting go. "Thank you," he said. "That was . . . thank you."
"Sometimes you just need a hand to hold," Rose quoted, smiling.
Nat shook his head. "You really don't understand," he said. "When you do . . . whatever you did, I can feel you, in here," he touched his temple, "And it's like all those empty spaces got filled up a moment."
"Really? I don't know how I'm doing it, then," she said. "I mean, I'm not a telepath." A thought occurred to her. "Wait, but . . . I get that you're a receiving telepath, so you could get affected by losing contact and such, but why would anyone bother doing that with the ones who aren't receptive?" she asked. "I mean, if they already can't sense other people, it wouldn't make much of a difference –"
He blinked at her a moment, then said, "I've never heard of anyone who wasn't connected to the Web," he said.
"The web?" Rose asked, frowning in confusion.
"Yes. All Galfrians are connected. But it's not like a bond, it's just a low-level . . . feeling. A sort of sense of . . . I don't know how to explain it," he finished, frustrated.
Rose made a face. Something she'd learnt travelling with the Doctor was that English didn't always have the words to describe something, because sometimes there were concepts that just didn't exist for humans. Like telepathic ones. "So, it's something sort of super-telepathicish," she said, "Because I don't think English has a word for it."
Nat smiled weakly, but he seemed calm and himself again, and he said, "Probably not. Still, you said you're not telepathic, but you managed to create a sort of . . . well, what I think a bond must be like, at least temporarily."
"You think?" she asked. "I mean, I just was trying to . . . I dunno, make sure you didn't feel alone."
"And I can feel the Web again," Nat told her. "It was just . . . I was so panicked I couldn't feel anything anymore."
Rose remembered a Dalek with its ray gun thing pointed at her and being so scared it took her a minute to even hear the Doctor talking to her. "I think I get that."
Nat smiled at her, still shaky, but better now. "I think," he said slowly, "That we need to get through to our fellow inmates before we do anything else."
An idea occurred to Rose. "What about Pal . . . you'll have to find out the rest of his name," Rose said sheepishly. Nat's smile broadened a little at that, but he looked at her inquiringly. "My roommate, who's never said a word, ever, is interested enough in the outside world to actually talk to someone, something she never does, yeah? Maybe we should just start with some books and magazines and things," she said. "Something with pretty pictures and interesting facts that people can understand." She shot him a significant look. "And since that's not anything weird or contraband, he could pick some interesting stuff up next time he's off."
"Not a bad idea," Nat said, nodding. "But maybe you should try talking to your roommate?"
Rose nodded and they hurried to separate. Now that they'd been pegged as troublemakers the guards watched them all the time. She slipped back to her room, cell really, and sat down on her bed, looking at the other side of the room where her roommate was staring blankly at the ceiling as she usually did unless dragged out by the guards. After thinking a moment, Rose just started talking. "I didn't really grow up in the good part of town," she said. "It was just Mum and me, my dad died when I was a baby. My mates Shareen and Mickey, we all used to sort of spend time together 'cause we were the only ones without dads. Mickey was being raised by his gran and Shareen's dad had run off leaving her mum behind. So, we all knew what it was like when people were horrible just 'cause we didn't have two normal parents like everyone else. We'd hang around in the park all day. Shareen used to look at the flowers all the time. That was the big thing she wanted when she grew up, to have a garden all to herself, just like the one in the park."
She chanced a glance over when she thought she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. "Then we went on a school trip to Regent's Park. Mickey thought the zoo was the coolest thing he'd ever seen. All those exotic animals and things, keepers with trained hawks and such. Shareen, though . . . Shareen just wanted to stay in the gardens. All the flowers and trees and grass. We never saw grass on the Powell Estates, just asphalt and concrete everywhere. I mean, there was grass, but it was all in little tiny plots and things. Hemmed in. It was like a totally different world at Regent's Park. Being in here, it's like being back on the Estate again," Rose said. "That was a fantastic day, yeah? I mean, not just 'cause we weren't in class, although that was always cool. We all just got to see so much that we'd never seen before."
"What about you?" the question was an almost complete surprise.
Rose turned and blinked at her. "What?"
"What about you?" she repeated. "You said Shareen and Mickey enjoyed the gardens and the animals, what did you like?"
"I just . . ." Rose thought about it. "I liked seeing something new," she said finally. "I liked seeing flowers and things I'd never seen before, not even in shops, I liked seeing the animals that no one had as a pet on the Estate, I liked seeing the city out the bus window on the way there." The human girl gave a shrug. "I like seeing new things, yeah?"
Her roommate finally focussed all her attention on Rose. "Natanerialon and you, the both of you only just got here," she said, "You both live on the Outside, or you used to. Mavon . . ." she stopped, then took in a shaking breath. "Mavontarinaven used to talk about . . . about 'hiking'," she said slowly. Rose could almost hear air quotes and capital letters on these terms the other woman found so foreign.
"Who's Mavon . . .tarinaven," Rose stumbled through the name. She was getting better at these.
"He was one of the . . . assistants." The company line about the guards was spat with distaste. "He was going to be my bondmate," she said. "He . . . they found out and . . . I haven't seen him since."
Bondmate. That was what they called spouses here, Rose had found out. "You've never said and no one told me," Rose asked, "What's your name?"
"Rivanaterintilar," was the shaky response. "And you're Rosemariontyler, you said."
"Call me Rose," she told her. "And we're working on figuring this out," Rose told her. "We just need to get enough people together to agree, and then we're going to figure out how to demand rights from the government," she said. "Natanerialon and me, we're working on it, yeah? Then we can see about finding Mavon . . . erm . . ."
"Mavontarinaven," Rivanaterintilar said. "You think we can?"
Rose laid a hand on her new friend's for a moment, thinking friendship and closeness at her the way she did for the Doctor and had done for Nat. It seemed to steady her the way it had them. "Oh," Rivanaterintilar's voice was soft. "Thank you. And I can't wait," she said.
"Can't wait?" came an irritated voice from outside their cell. "You. Again. That's it," snapped the man whose proper title was probably something nice, but seemed to pretty much be the warden. "You're coming with me."
And with that Rose found herself dragged off to Isolation. She was there for a very long time. So long, in fact, that she got the feeling someone was watching her and waiting for her to have a breakdown like a normal Galfrian would if they'd been cut off for that long. It was long enough that she lost track of the days, happy to have caught up on the sleep she didn't have hanging around with a species that seemed to need maybe an hour of sleep a day, if that.
After that lost passage of time, she found herself let out of the cell by a wide-eyed and panicked-looking Natanerialon. "Come on," he said urgently. He grabbed her hand and started dragging her down the hall.
He was actually touching her, that didn't bode well at all. "What's going on?" she asked.
"Your roommate, Rivanaterintilar," he explained. "When you got dragged off, she was upset. Then yesterday she just went into a frenzy. I don't even know how, but she turned everyone into a mob. They're rioting!"
They'd been running down the halls of the building that had been their prison for months, and they suddenly burst out into the open air of the exercise yard to see a shouting, screaming, roiling mass of people, armed with anything they could get their hands on, deconstructed chairs and guards' tasers, rocks and dinnerware, spanners and exercise equipment. It was a mess, and Rose swore, pulling away from Nat and using overturned furniture and sheer determination to scale up the wall and grab a megaphone away from the panicking warden.
High above, some sort of hovering skycraft had begun shining lights down on them, and Rose was vaguely aware of threats being issued. She took the megaphone, shouting down to the crowd, trying to get them to pack it in. Murdering the guards and rioting wasn't the way to get things done. Oh, it might bring attention, but they'd just seem like a pack of loonies to the rest of the world.
"Just back off, everyone!" she shouted. "We've made our point, yeah? We're not happy. Now we need to tell them why, explain, get 'em to understand!" There was a lull, her words fell on a crowd that seemed to react positively to what she was saying, both sides backing away.
A sudden pain in the back of her head was followed by blackness.
