Never Quite Normal
By: Jessa L'Rynn & Olfactory Ventriloquism
This work is a collaborative effort. If it had been just me, this story wouldn't be right at all, so big round of applause for my co-author, Olfactory Ventriloquism. -Jessa
Disclaimer: We don't own Doctor Who. We have abducted him and are trying to get him to sign himself over. For some reason, Jack has taken the paperwork up to the roof. Maybe he'll sign it up there? He appears to have some barbecue sauce and... Oh, great, he's just fed the paperwork to an extinct pterodactyl. And there goes the Doctor, laughing and feeding it chocolate. Of course you realize this means war.
Please note: This fic carries an M rating for a lot of very good reasons
Chapter 24:
Joshua moved over on the piano bench a bit, gesturing Rose to sit beside him. His long, elegant fingers caressed the keys, a simple chromatic run up the scale. He stopped at the b flat, played with it a second. "Huh, it's sticking a bit. Have to remember that."
She smiled. "Oh, c'mon, what do you know, then?"
He shot her that daft grin. "S'more of a question of what I don't know," he said. He played a few whimsical chords of Hadyn, shifted into a familiar piece she thought was Bach, transposed a couple of scales and played a bit of Beethoven's Fifth. Then, to her delight and amusement, he started a very ornate version of 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.' "That's Mozart," he said.
She grinned. "Something newer?" she asked. If she wasn't mistaken, the next tune was one she'd heard on the radio for the first time on the way up here. "Something older?"
He shook his head, but the grin stayed in place. He seemed to be having a good time. "Picky, much?" he said and played some variation of something she would swear was Elvis.
She rolled her eyes. "Something I can sing to, maybe?" she said.
"Oh." He stopped and thought for a moment. Then, he folded his hands together, stretched them, cracked his knuckles. She winced while that grin she loved so much just got broader. "Right then, something for the lady." He picked at the notes for a moment, and then nodded, looking quite a bit triumphant.
Three bars in, the vaguely familiar notes suddenly resolved themselves into a song she recognized. She couldn't help it, though, when she laughed out loud. "Disney?" she asked gleefully. "Seriously, Joshua, I'd've never picked you for a Disney fan."
"Hey," he protested mildly, fingers never faltering, "I've had a lot of time on me hands."
"Yeah, but 'The Little Mermaid'?" She giggled, couldn't help it, as he shot her a bashful, beautiful smile. "Honestly, 'The Little Mermaid', you are so never living this down."
"Could be worse," he said ruefully, "could be 'Heidi'."
She laughed again and leaned into him, humming lightly. "I dunno," she teased, and fingered the sleeve of his leather jacket.
"No, really, s'a good story. Well, a better story, with a happy ending. It didn't have one in the book, it was so sad." He took his hands from the keys and turned to her. "Life's hard enough without even the fantasy being sad. I don't think love stories would even be popular after all this time if they all worked out like that one did."
She nodded, wondering if he'd always been such an accidental romantic, or if it was something that happened as he got older. She felt a sudden pang at the knowledge that he'd had years of his life behind him and all the things she was just beginning to experience had become mundane for him. She would never get to witness his excitement when he got his driving license or his first legal drink. She could not comfort his sorrow when he first saw someone die, as it was painfully apparant he must have done. It wasn't that she regretted choosing him, it was just that she was sorry she'd never get to see it, and sad that he'd had to go through so much all alone. "I know," was all she said, instead. Then she forced another grin. "Go on, play it, I'll try to keep up."
He touched her face with one hand, then turned back to the keys and started to play. Rose shook her head with a fond smile and, nothing else for it, sang along to "Kiss the Girl."
If anyone had been in the back garden that afternoon, if anyone had been competent to hear it and understand, they probably would have been astonished and amused to realize that the flower-bedecked blue box spent quite a bit of time that day humming Disney theme songs.
Doris swept into the music room bearing an elegant tea-tray while Joshua was explaining the story of Hans Christian Anderson's crush on a ballerina and how it led to him writing The Little Mermaid. Throughout the tale, his fingers swept whimsically across the keyboard. Rose listened, occasionally asking questions, mostly just shaking her head at the overall sadness of the classic fairy tale.
The remainder of the pack followed closely on his Aunt's heels. After serving her guests, Doris settled back and watched them all with fond smiles. Joshua knew she was never so happy as when she had people around her, whether it was large parties or a close group of well-loved friends. Or just those winter evenings when she and Uncle Alistair would sit in front of the fire in the library, forgetting the world existed.
He smiled at Rose and wondered how she'd look in winter, cheeks pink and chilly from a day in the snow, a warm cup of cocoa in her hands. He decided that, winter to come or years from now, she would always be beautiful. She looked up at him, as if she could read his thoughts, and laid her head on his shoulder. It felt like she was inviting him to wait and see. He looked forward to it.
When Rose had finished her tea and Joshua had snagged all the biscuits he felt like stealing at the moment, Aunt Doris stood and smiled fondly at Rose. "Up for a tour? The boys can stay here and amuse themselves, though I must insist on at least one male escort." Her sharp gaze fell tellingly on Joshua. He stood and executed a graceful bow before extending an arm to each lady. Rose giggled and stood to loop her arm through his, grinning when he trapped it and her against his side. His Aunt took the proffered support with amused dignity, and the trio swept of, leaving three bemused men in their wake.
After introducing Rose to a house she hoped the girl would become familiar to, Doris left them on the balcony to watch the soon-coming sunset as she went to get dinner out of the oven. Rose had offered to help, but Doris wouldn't hear of it, knowing the two had far too little time before they must be parted, albeit temporarily.
"I want to talk to the Doctor," Harry said, the instant they heard the balcony door close and knew for sure Joshua and Rose were out of earshot. "This is dangerous."
"I don't think the Doctor would approve," said Lethbridge-Stewart, after thinking about it for several long minutes. He held up a hand when Harry moved to protest. "Hear me out. I would very much like to talk to the Doctor myself, right about now, but I think he would say that you should be able to figure it out."
"Especially if you have time to figure out about walls," said John with a snort.
"Do you mind?" Harry complained, his cheeks going pink.
It was rather lucky for John that Doris hadn't gotten back yet. The Brigadier still shot him an annoyed glance before shaking his head. "I'll leave it to you, Dr. Sullivan, but you need to recall that we are meant to use the code for an emergency that requires the Doctor."
"I should think his own health..."
"His health has rarely been jeopardized by anything he has done, and I don't think I need to remind you of that."
"Or what happens to you when you pester him about it," John added.
Harry winced. "You win. I'm not landing in any of your cupboards, Sir. With all due respect, I've seen them."
The Brigadier shook his head. "They will keep giving me those tacky awards," he said. "And I'm not leaving them lying around."
When left alone this time, Rose and Joshua said nothing. They just watched the sky tinge yellow, then pinks, and fade into lilac. Joshua's arms were around Rose and she snuggled into him against the chill of the falling twilight. One by one, stars flared into sight, silently greeting the pair, but unwilling to intrude.
Even without speaking, the two told each other all they felt. A brush of his thumb against her arm said, "I don't want to leave you." Her head snuggling that tiny bit closer told him, "I don't want you to leave. But I know you have to." The slight catch in his sigh revealed, "I'm afraid to face this; I'm afraid it won't work; I'm afraid I'll lose you." Her squeeze of his hand reassured him, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm so proud of you."
This mute conversation was broken by John opening the door and beckoning them in. "I'm not postponing another dinner because of you."
After dinner, a logistics meeting was called in the sitting room, with each member of the group taking the same perches as before.
"Dr. Sullivan informed me," the Brigadier began, "that the longer the rehab program, the higher the chances of success. With that in mind, I've contacted Springwood Psychiatric. It has a six week program for substance abuse and incorporates several different therapy styles. They've agreed to take you, but won't have a bed on the substance abuse ward for a week."
Joshua tensed and shook his head. "That's no good," Joshua protested. "I mean, I'm sure the place is fine, but…I don't trust maself alone for a week. I could do anything in a week. What's to keep me from relapsing before I even start?"
"You're always welcome here, Joshua," Doris pointed out. She regretted the offer, though not the sentiment, the moment she saw her nephew's grip on Rose's hand tighten possessively. If it hurt, Rose gave no indication, returning the ferocity of his hold. Of course he didn't want to be so far from Rose for a week before being admitted.
"You could stay at my place." Rose offered tentatively.
Joshua chuckled. "I hardly think Jackie would appreciate that."
Not to mention her mum's liquor cabinet was fully stocked. "Or…" Rose blushed crimson. "If you're afraid of being alone…I could stay at your flat?" She tried not to think of what the other people in the room thought of her after that offer. It was sincerely meant. If he needed her, she'd be there, propriety be damned. Joshua's gaze burned into her, searching her and branding her in an instant.
"That…wouldn't be a good idea," he murmured thickly, the desire in his eyes preventing her from feeling rejected, far from it, she hardly curbed the desire to snog him.
Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably, obviously uneasy at witnessing this scene. "Well, I did want to run a few tests," he offered, face averted, "and I do have a spare room. You could stay with me until you go in."
Joshua nodded curtly. His eyes snapped up from Rose's. "That'd be fantastic. Thanks, Harry." Joshua's gratitude was evident.
With the plans made, the party prepared to disband for the night. It had already been determined that they would all stay 'til morning. All of the men had a few essentials that they kept at the house and Joshua had had the foresight to make sure Rose packed an overnight bag.
Doris, in her infinite (or as close to infinite as was humanly possible) wisdom, arranged for Rose to have the room next to Joshua's.
Rose slipped into the outfit from the night before with the same awareness of the fact that a single wall barred her naked form from Joshua's sight and touch. Tonight, there was the added consciousness that he was hidden from her as well. This time, he would be stripping on the other side of the wall. She wondered what he wore to bed. She wondered if he wore anything to bed.
And that was a thought she didn't need to be having, much less compulsively dwelling on, in his Uncle and Aunt's house, Rose determined as she arranged the pillows. Nevertheless, behind her eyelids, Joshua's flame-blue eyes speared her from where he relaxed among the rich maroon sheets that she currently inhabited as she settled in the familiar arms of sleep.
Rose was awakened from a peculiar dream about estate buildings designed to look like giant grasshoppers by a a strangled noise that was a cross between a sob and a scream. It echoed in her head even after her ears stopped sending her brain signals that they could hear it. She was halfway across the room before her mind was restored enough for her to recognize that she was stumbling on autopilot towards the source of that noise: Joshua.
She wrenched her own door open and, a handful of steps later, repeated the process with his door. His curtains had been left open, piercing the room with moon and star light. Able to see her way to his side without bumping into anything or falling headlong, Rose sat on the edge of the bed and called his name, watching his tense face, drawn and beaded with sweat as he writhed in pain on the pillows. When her voice had no effect, Rose had no choice but to wake him and free him temporarily from the prison his mind must construct anew each night.
Her hand trembled slightly as she lay it on his clammy cheek. For less than an instant, Rose thought she saw fire and heard screams and smelled charred flesh, but it was gone before she could analyze the sensations. In that minute amount of time, during which she almost thought she'd heard a name for in the corners of her mind, Joshua's eyes snapped open, filled with loss, and fear, and confusion.
Then he was in her arms, clinging to her as if she were the only thing safe in the universe, his only hope of peace. Rose hummed mindlessly at him, hoping he could hear her care in her voice. When the sobbing had passed, she felt him slowly grow tense against her, afraid again.
"It's okay. You don't have to talk about it," she murmured.
Nearly all of her air was knocked from her in the sudden force of his grip after those words. His lips fell on hers, hungry and desperate, and Rose could feel tears still running down his face, falling into their kiss. Her heart broke for it.
When they parted, Rose ran a soothing hand through his short-cropped hair.
"Will you be all right?" she asked tentatively. The tears had stopped, but the war still raged in his eyes, unmasked.
"As long as you're here," he croaked.
"I'm here," she assured him and felt his arms spasm almost in shock.
Joshua lay back, taking Rose with him so that she lay almost on top of him. Last night, Joshua had supported Rose. Tonight, she willingly returned the favor.
For the record, Rose's sleepy mind noted, he wore blue flannel jim-jam bottoms.
Tracing lazy patterns on each other's skin, relishing the steady heart beats and breath of the other, Joshua and Rose returned to sleep.
Doris was accustomed to waking early and had never managed to break the habit. She had often had her first cup of tea before her husband stumbled down to the kitchen. Some days, she envied his ability to sleep relatively late. Others, she welcomed the quiet time which could bring the glorious surprises of the morning, be it a beautiful sunrise or a newly hatched bird cheeping near the back door.
Sunday morning was definitely one of the latter times.
The sun wasn't yet visible on the horizon, but its light had stolen into the house. Doris padded down the hall of the more residential wing of the house, craving her tea mug, when she noticed that the doors to both Joshua's and Rose's rooms were open. Curious, Doris peeked in the nearest room, Rose's. The bed was crumpled, as someone had obviously slept there, but it was empty and, on inspection, cold.
The next logical place to snoop was, of course, Joshua's room. And there, Doris found her answers. Snuggled together in the center of his bed, covers kicked off and tangled at their feet, were Joshua and Rose.
Her head was on his chest, her arm thrown over his abdomen. Their hips were aligned, and one of Rose's legs had managed to wedge between Joshua's.
For his part, Joshua's chin was against the crown of her head, his nose just able to breathe in the scent of her shampoo. The arm closest to her wrapped around her shoulders, hugging her close. His other hand was entwined with the one she'd rested on his stomach. Both were almost smiling.
Doris grinned at the sight and rushed back to her room, all thoughts of tea momentarily forgotten. She was glad, this day, that Alistair had been known to sleep through a tornado siren, or indeed, anything but the phone. She stubbed her toe in her rush and let out a soft stream of curses, most nonsensical, as she hopped toward the cabinet which held her small electronics.
Over breakfast, Doris watched the couple's interaction with amused glee. There wasn't any shyness, but a sort of tentative confusion, as if they thought they should be shy, or maybe the other one was. As Harry cleared away the dishes in thanks for the meal, Doris remembered a bit of shopping she'd done while in town the other day.
"Rose, dear, I hope you don't mind. After our lunch on Friday," Doris ignored the stunned look on Joshua's face, "I stopped off in an antique store to pick up an order. When I saw this, I just knew it was made for you." She handed the confused girl a small box that had obviously once been blue velvet but most of the fuzz had been worn off with time. "I tried, but I couldn't find a pendant for it."
Inside the box, was a pewter chain. Joshua peered over Rose's shoulder and murmured "fantastic" approvingly when he saw it. There were nine tiny strands, braided together. Each one looked impossibly delicate, but together the chain was obviously strong. It was simple and flabbergastingly complex. It was beautiful. It was everything Rose was.
Rose looked at Doris, completely floored, unable to find the words to say, except the obvious. "Thank you. It's beautiful."
"I'm glad you like it."
Rose was stuffing the last of her things into her duffel bag, when Joshua came and stood in the open doorway to what she suspected may have just become her room. He knocked hesitatingly on the jamb. She looked up and grinned at him. He returned the smile, still uncertain. Rose's brow creased in confusion.
"What's up?" she asked, because asking what was wrong might send up his walls.
"I was thinking. You should have this." He paused before holding out a key to her. Rose raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. "It's a key to my flat." Both of her eyebrows met her hairline. "…I'm gonna need someone to look after it while I'm gone. There's no one I trust more."
Joshua finally met her eyes and saw pride and hope and affection (he wouldn't label it anything stronger than that) in her expression. Her hand smoothed along his jaw.
"I'm honored." She brought his head down for a soft, chaste kiss. "Looks like Doris doesn't need to worry about a pendant, after all."