Thanks for the reviews and follows and favourites they really keep me going! Hope you all had a good valentine's day and holiday (if you're on half term) Hope you enjoy this.
Jackie Tyler loved her daughter, more than anything. It had not taken a moment's thought for her to drop the scissors she had been holding and sprint to her car. She didn't think anything before she picked Rose up, apart from how much she would seriously damage who had hurt her daughter. She didn't think now as she stated clearly and precisely how no she would not bring Rose back to school that day and that her daughter had suffered enough without anyone interfering.
"-Ms Tyler you've got to understand it is against the law to remove your child from school premises without authorisation."
"It's two o'clock; she only has one bloody hour left! Can't you just leave the child alone? She's been through enough today without you sticking your nose in!"
"Ms Tyler we have the situation perfectly under control here. Please bring Rose back to school immediately."
"If you think I'm letting my daughter go back to that hell hole today you've got another thing coming. She'll be back in school tomorrow at eight thirty sharp. Good day!" From the sofa Rose let of deep breath of amusement as her mother's voice rose to a haughty screech.
"Think that was funny did you madam? Well if you're feeling better perhaps you should go back!" Jackie pulled her triumph card and Rose ceased her silent laughter. "Now, can I get you some more tea?" A lump of duvet mumbled a muffled yes and Jackie began to mutter how tea makes everything better.
From beneath her safe haven of warmth Rose scrolled through her phone pining in vain for something from John. Instead her inbox began to fill with missed calls and messages from Martha. At first she read them, listened to the tearful answer machine messages but in the end she switched off her phone, and throwing it behind the sofa she switched on the TV.
-x-
"Alright Rosie Pose?" Jack Harkness flashed Rose a grin, softly blowing smoke in her face as he swings his legs up onto a nearby wall.
"Jack!" She laughed tentatively; blowing the smoke back to him and slowly lowered herself down next to him. He was a good mate; she didn't see him much these days. Mickey and Jack didn't really get on. They'd known each other for years now; she had met him down the park once. She was alone, which was unusual for her and there had been these guys, from another estate, they said stuff, threatened her but then she met Jack. Once she got with Mickey Jack took over his place as her brother figure. Nowadays he knew her inside out and she knew him. Her breathing heavy from holding in tears, she lent her head against his leather clad shoulder and instantly he drew his arms round her.
"It's ok Rosie Pose, it'll all be ok," his breath felt warm against her matted hair and slowly she let out everything she had been holding in.
"She was my best friend, my best friend… Why? Why? It's not fair; it's just not fair," her tears drew black streaks across her scarlet cheeks and her body heaved beneath his clutch as she cried. With every breath he pulled her tighter and his warm, smoky scent filled her with a faint sense of comfort. "We were best friends," she repeated again, her voice rising from hopelessness to anger "-best friends! How could she?!"
Jack murmured soothingly beside her, his face set in deep concentration, glancing up only when Ianto came into view. Wordlessly Ianto stood beside the two and with a casual flick Jack gestured him forward. As Ianto slid next to Jack, Rose unhooked herself from Jack's lock and the three of them sat together; side by side and watching the world go by in a hazy smoke.
"It will be ok Rose. It will. Soon, someday this will all be over. You'll find someone else and while you'll waiting you can just stay with us. But you will find someone else. We do eventually. We all move on."
-x-
God she felt bad. In fact Martha Jones felt awful. It had been a day. Seven days precisely. She missed Rose. She missed how they used to be. It had always just the three of them. Now it was just her. Today was Mickey's Nan's funeral. She wishes she could be with him. Holding his hand through the ceremony and clutching at him as he cries. She felt so bad. She was angry, so, so furious. Furious with herself for ruining everything. It wasn't fair. She felt the villain. The twisted bitch in an American Rom-Com, the one steals the heroine's lover with her cold, callous ways. The one you shout at when she walks on screen. The character that deserves her predictable, miserable ending. She didn't want to be that person. It wasn't her fault. It wasn't her fault. Rose's last voice mail swam around Martha's head. She had sounded so alone when she recorded it, so lost. Martha never did find out why. It seemed so unfair that every memory, every moment, was lost, forgotten, replaced the minute she had touched Mickey. She wanted everything to be back to before. She wish she'd never set eyes on Mickey. Even if one day Rose accepted her apology there would always be that moment hanging over them. It would never truly be forgotten or forgiven.
"Martha? Can I go with you? Martha?"With a limp hand Martha rubbed her eyes and brought herself out of her thoughts. Standing beside her was Rory. Rory Williams. They always went with each other in science practicals. There was hardly any need for him to ask her, she gave him quick shrug of reply a forced smile forming on her lips.
"Course Rory," with a flick of her wrist she brushed her things aside, making room for him on the desk and gestured for him to sit beside her.
They laboured solidly for the first half hour. Slight murmurs every now and again as they added a pinch of Universal Indicator and a nod as they wrote down the results. Finally they were finished, and together they sat down conceited with results, an island of calm in a classroom full havoc.
"Martha?"
"Hmm?" Shaken Martha fleeted a glance over to Rory, blinking quickly in an attempt to keep her attention to him instead of her thoughts.
"Are you ok?"
"Yeah. I'm fine," her extensive sigh proved she wasn't and Rory pulled his face into a considerate gaze.
"Martha?"
"It's nothing really, it's just well, last week with Rose," the last word lingered in the air and he wonders if she's going to say any more, until he realises, she can't. Her stony exterior is silently cracking, and she sits pulled up tight on the stall, a single tear rolling over her smooth cheeks. It takes all her power to stop the others and speaking now would damage the dam.
"Martha, Martha," repeating her name is all he can say. What should he do? What if she starts properly crying? Should he ask to take her out? Luckily his dilemma is saved by the bell. Its screeches sent a shock through Martha's upright body and before anyone can see Rory is bundling her stuff into her bag and pulling her out of the room. He shelters her through the corridors, shielding her face with his. They only stop once they're outside and tenderly he leads her over to bench. It's there she lets the dam break and it's there Rory perches unsure of what to do, his voice repeating the same mindless words. "It'll be ok." Even though he's no idea if it will or won't. He just knows it won't be easy.
-x-
That night Rose waited for Jackie to go to bed. Together they watched hours of mindless drivel, Jackie kept saying she wasn't tired or how she felt like a snack; Rose thought she would never go. Hours past and finally Jackie went to sleep leaving Rose with a warning that if she didn't go to bed in the next hour heads would roll. Crawling into her bed Rose waited until the only sound she could hear was the endless clank of pipes and whir of water, before she reached for her phone. She had had enough of waiting. Enough of trying to figure out what she had done wrong. She wanted to know.
The phone felt cool in her palm and her hand shook as she began to slowly type in the number she knew so well. It rang twice, cutting straight to answer machine. The mechanical voice at the other end gave her no source of comfort and quietly she began to speak, her voice wavering at every letter and her breathing heavy and concentrated.
"John? John it's me. Please, please phone me back. Something awful has happened. I'm all alone now. I need you. Please John. I need to see you. Please."
Please review, it will make me write faster!