History says this the place she needs to be. She recalled double-checking the name of the airport multiple times to ensure she wouldn't get the spelling wrong, the name wrong. She didn't think she could, it is an easy name to remember but she has so much anxiousness building within her that she is certain she could make a mistake. Especially since her grasp on the language is still minimal at best. Sure, she is fluent in French and he had attempted to teach her conversational Italian while they had been together, making the argument that Italian and French are both Romantic languages, so she should have picked it up with ease. She did and she didn't. They never progressed any further after one night in her hotel room, or had it been his? She couldn't recall now. She inhales deeply in a small attempt to calm her nerves. It has been so long…
She wanted it to be an easy drop off, and it was, in a sense. She only had to walk a block or two before she reached the main gates for the international airport in Naples. She begins to feel sick with nerves; she can't believe she's this nervous, hell she hadn't even been this nervous when she reunited with the Doctor. Well, their parting hadn't been on the best of terms and she harboured that anger towards him for eight years and then some. But with him…oh it was so unlike anything she's ever known. Not that she liked to compare the two, she didn't, they were so different from each other, aside from some glaring similarities, she had always assumed that's why she had been attracted to him. His sheer brilliance and intelligence, wittiness, how attractive he is and just his demeanor. It had been such a different experience with him than it had been with the Doctor. She had apparently craved that change. Not that they are the same, similar yes, but so different.
She had had so much fun with him she forgot her place for the time they were together. It almost felt like a whirlwind romance, and it was, somewhat. In fact she adored his company so much that she had forgotten on multiple occasions just who he was and that her place in history had become intertwined with his. Still, given who he is she knew she couldn't have interfered. His part and what he did for the Cosa Nostra couldn't be changed, otherwise, where would the others come from?
She swallows and steps into the airport. She feels as though she may be sick. It doesn't help that thickness of the air mingled with the smoke is making it difficult to take full and clean breaths. A sudden crash is heard and she whips around, two men in long beige trench coats are attempting to right a plant they had knocked over. As one is bent over cleaning up the loosened soil, she can see the flash of gold. Those men are police. She frowns; no doubt they have tailed him…hoping to catch him doing something illegal. Well he isn't. Not this time. He had come to the airport to meet someone. That's all. Not the anticipated drug bust those officers are hoping for. She swallows again. Where is he? She waits awkwardly and begins to allow her thoughts to drift to the events that eventually led her to standing in Naples' airport.
She had been thinking about him a lot. Even after she relayed her frustrated tale to Jack over dinner of the Doctor's foolish behavior and jealousy. Not to mention the inability to let it go. Not since the Mad Hatter interrupted their dinner back in the 40s, to relay news about his deportation back to Italy. No. He had wanted to know everything and why she had kept it from him. She had eventually managed to convince him to drop it by saying they had been close. She left it at that; she saw the jealousy flash in his eyes as he discerned what her words meant. She wondered how he had been able to keep silent all his criticisms of her; evidently he was saving them for later.
Of course all of this had been before she had discovered the little tryst with Elizabeth. She still shakes from jealousy about that incident; hell it was the reason she left to see Jack for a couple of hours. She had been angry that he had been dismissive about Elizabeth and her outward affection, how he had lied to her early on in their relationship about his whereabouts, brushing her off for someone more engaging than herself, and concealed the fact that he had married her. This mistress told him she had been getting annoyed at being lied to. How many more are there? He didn't like that question and so had refused to answer her.
That hadn't been the end, he had been exasperated with her about her other lover. She had grown upset that he nearly informed everyone about the tryst. While she swore had he have inquired she would have been truthful, that didn't sate him. She had countered that at least her fling wasn't outwardly pursing her nor making threats to her current lover. He didn't like that comment and suddenly the little innocent kiss, or several, by Jim Morrison paled in comparison.
And Jack, that bastard always had to play devil's advocate. When she had shown up and announced she had been having guy troubles, the first thing Jack did was usher out his date. The man had given Rose a sheepish smile, waving as he slinked past her. Jack invited her in, and she sat, waiting for him to find his shirt while she teased him about his date's name and why he had failed to introduce her before now. When he had confirmed she was having troubles they decided to grab dinner, only after he bought her a round of drinks. That's what she had needed, something hard to drown out her anger before she started recounting her tale to Jack.
As Jack listened, thoroughly to her complain that it wasn't fair for him to be jealous over him or their relationship together. Her barbs had stung him, she told Jack that, she could see the hurt on his face but she hadn't been able to stop herself. It wasn't as if she married him as he had River or Elizabeth and continued to sleep with her when he knew she was in the dark about them. She had always ended things before she started something new. And when he had inquired as to why, considered they hadn't actually ended their relationship, Rose had grown furious. No, that had been true, she had informed him. He forced her away. Their end she hadn't seen coming. She had paused, staring as the whiskey in her glass. She supposed what had hurt the most is that she had just been introduced to this magical little thing called regeneration, lost the man she had met and grown close with and really saw herself with the new him. They defeated the Sycorax and they had just had a rather nice time on New Earth, as good as can be for foiling the evil there. It was the fact that he blew her off when he knew she needed to look after her mum, he couldn't spare a couple of hours to keep her company. While it hadn't bothered her then, she assumed it was to do something more important, well what is more important, apparently, than bedding the Queen of England, which stung deeply when she found out. She hated being lied to. So she rubbed his face in the little tales that spread after that encounter. Elizabeth the first, eh? At least she thought she was the first. He hadn't liked that either and wouldn't allow her to introduce herself to Elizabeth as the current woman he was sleeping with. And she had desperately wanted to.
Jack had agreed with her. Saw her points and hadn't liked the fact that she had to be in the same time and area as he wed the Queen. Even if she had removed herself. She did not want to be around endorsing that. She had been sought after the supposed joyous occasion. It had been an accident that the rowboat she had been floating in got caught up in the current and drifted back their way. It had taken a lot of coaxing to get her from that rowboat. And even still when she had docked the boat, she had still ignored him. All of them, except for Clara. She hadn't wanted to give him the satisfaction of seeing her upset.
She smiled appreciatively as Jack had wiped the tears from her face, finally giving in to her pain and hurt. She admitted the Doctor didn't even know where she was. She had decided she needed time alone, so she had left. She wasn't sorry about not telling him and Jack had agreed. They had been silent; until Jack decided to switch sides, just for a moment. She allowed him to.
Jack had questioned why she had wanted to keep the relationship to herself, hell he hadn't known. Rose hadn't been able to answer him right away. She supposed…she guessed it was because while she was with him he took her mind off of whom she was. When she was with him he made her forget that she was Marion Smith the Freelancer, or Katya Rozanov the Consultant or J.J the Advisor or Rhoswen Wolfe the Specialist. Once again she was Rose Tyler, his Dove. He made her forget her job, her worries, and her troubles and was content with just having her at his side. He made her feel…normal. Well, as normal as could be for being a notorious criminal. He wanted to take her out, show her off, tell the world that she was his girl and that was something she hadn't had in so long. With the Doctor it was always between them, she never regretted it, she told Jack that, she didn't, but unless it was only the two of them they are hardly alone and as such they have to be discreet. And she knew that going in and she had never minded or grew resentful because the times that they had gone out just the two of them, she had always had fun.
But with him…it hadn't mattered they were in public with his peers, associates and friends, he'd kiss her, hold her hand, place his hand on her knee…small things she hadn't noticed she felt deprived of until she had it done to her. Plus it'd been so long since someone had pursued her. Not since John died anyway. She hadn't known how desperate she had been until he had been there ready to offer her whatever she wanted.
Change of pace, Jack had offered and she agreed. Jack questioned on if she should have brought the subject up when they reunited. Rose grew annoyed. Were the opportune moments, sure, of course there had been, but the way things worked out for her…she just…never got around to it. And besides, who likes revealing who they've slept with? Not always a conversation starter. Besides, as she told Jack, had he ever wondered if there had been anyone else besides himself or John, she would have been forthcoming. Her simple defense had been he didn't ask, she didn't tell. She had reiterated to Jack again, it wasn't as if her former lover was coming to bother her current lover. Not as his seem to do.
Once she and Jack had decided to call it a night, she consistently refusing to spend the night, she had decided it'd be better for her to sleep in her own bed and work through her anger. He had embraced her tightly, placed a kiss on her cheek and told her that it'd be fine. She believed him. She always did. However on her way back to the TARDIS, an idea had struck her and she had turned over her shoulder to ensure that Jack hadn't decided to follow her and that she wasn't being followed by someone else she didn't want to talk to.
The last time she had seen him he had been behind prison bars and she had promised that he wouldn't spend the rest of his life there but that she couldn't wait. He had encouraged her to move on, actually he suggested it first, now that she recalls. He didn't want to have her waiting anyhow. She had nodded and placed a kiss on him, or several passionate ones, leaving him to the prison system. Now…something bothered her, all this talk of her love life made her nostalgic. And she wanted to see him one last time. So she had ducked behind an alleyway, behind a rubbish bin and set the coordinates on the manipulator. She had pressed the button and closed her eyes.
When Rose opens her eyes at the thoughts that she's just run through and sighs. Is this even right? Should she being doing this? There isn't much she can do now; she's here…where is he? She bites her lip and walks past the undercover agents as they try to remain inconspicuous. They're doing a lousy job. She almost wants to stop and tell them that they are trying too hard and drawing attention to themselves but she hasn't the time.
She takes a few tentative steps further into the airport lobby, waving the thick smoke from her face and studies the people there. None of them look familiar until…she spies an older man, early sixties heading towards a side exit and she widens her eyes. That's him. She knows it and before she comprehends what she's doing, she's trotting to catch up to him.
'Charlie!' She calls to him and she watches him pause in his step, as if he can recall the sound of her voice and believes his mind is playing ticks on him because he shakes his head and continues towards the exit. 'Charlie!'
This time he stops and slowly turns around. When they lock eyes she can see the shock at her shoving her way through the throngs of people towards him, breaking out into a near run to catch up to him. She nearly smiles at how stunned he is to see her and of course, how when they parted ways nearly three decades ago, she has remained the same in appearance and close to that age. He takes a few tentative steps towards her and when she sees the shock dissolve into pure elation in his eyes, she grins.
However it fades from her mouth as she watches him take a few more rushed steps towards her and then abruptly stop, clutching his chest and falling to his knees. Thankfully she's closed the gap enough that she can slide on her knees and catch him as he starts to fall to the ground. She's too late. She hugs him tightly to her and feels the tears prick her eyes. She's too late…
'Have I already died and gone to heaven, bella? Are you a dream? My Dove can't be here…' He pauses and she clutches him tighter to her and falls to the ground on her backside with him tight into her embrace. He clumsily wraps his arm around her. A soft chuckle escapes him. 'Or maybe this is hell, eh? All the evils I've done…it has to be hell. That's where I'm destined to be.'
'And…? What if it's neither? What if I'm really here?' She wonders and he chuckles again. Rose smiles at his small laugh despite their situation. His voice is huskier than she remembers, most likely because of the decades of smoking, but that's all that's really changed with him. A crowd of people has begun to gather around them. She hates gawkers and so she decides to direct them. 'Perché sono tutti in piedi intorno?! Chiamate un'ambulanza! Per favore! Sta morendo! Andare avanti! Oh, Charlie…no…'
The crowd thins and does as she bids. Charlie nods his head against her. 'Look at that, three decades later Dove…you still remember. Still a touch of a French accent in there.' He teases lightly and she feels him squeeze her side tightly. His breathing is becoming irregular. This hurts.
'That's all you have to say, you compliment my clumsy combination of French like Italian? No, how are you? Charlie, you always used to ask about my day, my work.' She teases and Charlie laughs once more. She glances up to see a few people gathering around the undercover police, pointing to them and they turn to where they are sitting on the ground together. She hugs him to her.
'That's true, I did do that, didn't I?' Charlie recalls and reaches up to place his hand on her cheek. She covers it with her own hand. 'Rose, my Dove, how was your day? And work? Still stressful? Forgive me, I can't offer you a whiskey this time,' He frowns when he notices the burn on her neck and he touches it. She flinches. 'How did you get that?'
Rose bites her lip to keep the tears from falling as she smiles. 'Oh, you know, work…anything like that, it's work, remember?' She smiles when Charlie gives her a weak smirk. 'And…my day was going along fine…until now…'
'Right, your work, still dangerous, eh?' Charlie wonders and Rose nods. He can see the tears fall. 'Come now, I'm an old man, these things happen, you know.' Charlie responds and Rose tilts her head willing him to live just a bit longer until she has a chance to say everything she's wanted.
'I know, but it's you we're talking about…' Rose pauses and takes his hand in hers. 'Think about how we met, you earned that nickname that night.'
'Ah, yes, that night was so long ago,' Charlie pauses and Rose stares at the scar he'd received that night. It seems so much more pronounced now. 'I was a younger man back then, with big plans…' He takes a very deep look at Rose. He smiles. 'And you are as beautiful now as you were then…'
'I know…' Rose breathes and knows he'll ask her how that's possible. She doesn't know what to say to that.
'You know, Albert always said there was something bewitching about you, and that I'd better watch myself.' Charlie informs her and Rose laughs a bit. That isn't exactly what Anastasia had said, a bit cruder actually.
'He didn't say that, Charlie, you liar, remember who you're talking to,' Rose retorts softly and he smiles up at her. Oh, he's never changed. That cocky smirk, those dark eyes…Rose missed him. 'You know what he called me and bewitching was not one of them.'
'Albert takes awhile to warm up to people,' Charlie answers and Rose nods her head in agreement. 'I know you are none of those things…so tell me…because the last time we saw one another, I was behind bars in America on a hot July day and you look exactly the same…how is that possible?' He takes an awkward breath and Rose closes her eyes. She feels him brush away her tears and his hand lingers on her cheek.
'Maybe you ought to believe those things Anastasia said about me, it'd make more sense than what I'm about to say.' Rose offer but Charlie shakes his head at her.
'Albert had his opinions; I want to know the truth. Give a dying man a break.' Charlie insists and Rose takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He shuts his eyes briefly, Rose doesn't want to know how much pain he's in.
Even still she can't stop herself and as he rests his head into the crook of her neck, her hand snakes down and rests on his chest, on his heart. So powerful and yet so frail…this isn't fair how everyone she loves dies on her…even if this is natural, she did love him.
'Charlie…you wouldn't believe me.' Rose attempts to move past this subject so at least they can spend his last moments together. However she knew he'd want to know and that had been a risk she had apparently been willing to take when she came here.
'I'm dying, Dove, give me something to take with me to the other side. Let me work out how it's possible, eh?' Charlie informs her and Rose bites her lip unsure of how to phrase it. Would bluntness suffice?
'I can…' She stops when he grips her hand tightly and coughs. She hugs him tighter to her. His dark eyes flash an apologetic look and Rose feels the tears start. He motions for her to continue. 'I can…travel in time…'
Charlie is quiet and Rose can tell he's thinking about something. They may have only spent a little over six years together, it amounted a little over five or six months in her correct time, because she's just that damned good, but they grew to know one another rather intimately very quickly.
'You know…I don't know what I expected you to say…of all the possibilities out there, that certainly wasn't one of them,' Charlie admits and Rose begins to laugh a bit, she lifts the sleeve of her jacket to expose the manipulator. He brings it closer to inspect, unsure of how it works but marvels at it nonetheless. 'It's…I don't know…'
'I don't always use it for time travel, mostly travelling. I'll be heading to Moscow soon…' Rose admits softly, she needs to go through their memories together for some closure. That's where they are. Still…travelling is always a great conversation starter; they talked all the time about it. That and her work. He had always pressed for more information; simply informing him that she was freelance didn't mean anything to him. He wanted more, although he did seem glad she wasn't tied to any governments.
'Moscow? Rose, it's very dangerous over there right now…' He nearly continues onward but then pauses, looking at her as she smiles down at him. There isn't any point in voicing his concerns to her. She more than likely knows them and will do what she wants to anyway. She always has. That's what he loves about her. Instead he turns his attention to the strange device attached to her wrist and glances to her before staring at the device again. 'Interesting, this little bracelet and you can, say, travel to a year in the future?' Charlie wonders and Rose nods her head.
'Yes, or backwards a year.'
'Then allow me to be nosy, and forgive me for prying, but just when exactly were you born then? How far into the future?' Charlie wonders and Rose blinks wondering why he'd want to know now, of all times.
'What makes you think it's in the future?' Rose questions and Charlie lets out a weak laugh, gripping her hand tightly.
'The moment I laid eyes on you, Rose, the moment you came to my aid on Staten Island after I'd been attacked, I knew there was something about you that didn't belong in 1929.' Charlie admits and Rose frowns at him, placing a soft kiss on his head.
'I do my best to blend in…'
'You cannot hide who you are, Dove, you are feisty and opinionated and have problems with authority…'
'Like someone else I know…' Rose gently teases and Charlie grins up at her. Her smile begins to fade and Charlie frowns, wondering how she could become this upset as he lay dying.
'The New Woman was up and coming back then, but you had a vibe to you that led me to believe that the London you came from, you'd been there done that,' Charlie replies and Rose hugs him to her once again. She can feel the life fading from him; the light behind those dark eyes is fading. 'So indulge me, Rose, what year were you born in? Why keep secrets now?'
'I was born in the 20th century…' Rose replies coyly and Charlie merely eyes her. Oh she hasn't changed at all, still remarkably difficult to break down those walls. He shakes his head against her.
'And I was born in the 19th, that's an awful lot of ground to cover. Are you going to tell me a century separates us?' Charlie inquires casually and Rose relents, what's the point in keeping secrets now anyway?
'Twenty four years from now, in London.' Rose confesses and Charlie stares at her, which will put her time on Earth from 1986 onward. She's here in 1962 now…she could be lying, but then again she's never lied to him before. She looks exactly the same as she did in 1929, in 1930…now, and all the years in between. She can't be lying.
'My god…' Charlie breathes and Rose squeezes his hand. He shuts his eyes tightly and coughs again, he rests his right hand on her leg, rubbing it lightly and Rose feels the fresh tears sting her eyes.
'I lead an interesting life.'
'You do, Dove and here I thought I did.'
'Yours pales in comparison to mine.' Rose offers and it draws another laugh from Charlie. He's paled so much, Rose is so afraid he could go at any time. She's not ready to see him off yet. Maybe she never should have come.
'Rose you travel in time…I just ran the Family,' Charlie shuts his eyes and it takes him several attempts to reopen them. When he does he brings her hand to his mouth to offer her a kiss. She closes her eyes and her tears fall down. 'I didn't think you'd be this upset, Dove, we haven't seen each other in twenty odd years.'
'That doesn't mean that the time we did spend together meant nothing to me, Charlie…that you meant nothing to me…'
'Yes, we did have fun together, didn't we?' Charlie responds and Rose nods her head. She doesn't want to let him go. Even though she can pick up a history book to read about his endeavors after his release from prison, she wants to hear it from him. He sighs from the pain and Rose can feel his heart slowing beneath her hand. 'And you meant a lot to me too, Rose. I've never met a woman quite like you before.'
'Still full of flattery, eh, Charlie?'
'Only for you,' Charlie responds and Rose presses her lips together waiting out the time. 'Rose, will you promise me something?'
'Of course…'
'I don't want you to be there. I want you to stay away, remember me for, well, not the good, as there wasn't much of that, or the bad because there's too much of that…' Charlie pauses and frowns as he attempts to leave something for her to think of him in his death. 'Remember me for the nights we were together. Without the stigma of our personas attached to us.'
'That's all I think of, Charlie.'
'Good, that's the only good thing I could leave you. I've been made a villain by society and the law, I'm glad you didn't fall victim to it, even though you knew very well what I had done.'
'Of course I knew, Charlie but there were two sides to you. The side I knew and the side the law knew…I told you what attracted me to you…but I couldn't just influence you to become a law-abiding citizen, you had your goals…' Rose replies and Charlie nods his head. Something that had consumed his entire life. She had been right. The Family demanded much of his time, effort and energy. Rose was always there when he needed her. A gift he could never repay.
They are quiet for some time, his breathing becoming fainter and fainter until he turns to her and frowns, mustering up the last of his strength. 'Does dying always take this long?'
Rose smiles sadly. 'Sometimes.'
Charlie remembers something abruptly and takes her hand tightly. 'Can I ask you something?'
'Of course you can.'
'In the past seven or eight years…were you ever in Havana?' Charlie questions and Rose feels the emotion drain from her face. She's stunned. How does she answer that? By avoiding it? He knows she time travels now, does that mean in the future, some time soon, she travels back to see him one final time because he said she was there? It scares her. She can't stay away. She decides to make an effort to move on from this subject by joking with him.
'No, not that I know of,' Rose responds and Charlie eyes her, nodding a bit. She attempts a smile and places a kiss on his head. 'Has it been so long that you've forgotten what I look like?'
He answers her with a strained laugh. 'No, she just reminded me a lot of you, then. It made me wonder how lucky I would be to meet another woman just exactly like you.'
She knows. Instantly she knows what he's talking about. However just to be sure… 'Charlie, what did she look like?'
'Green eyes, freckles, a lot of curly red hair. You're right, now that I'm thinking of it, it isn't you at all, is it, Dove?'
Oh but it is, Rose thinks and closes her eyes, knowing that at some point, soon she imagines, she's going to Havana. 'No, it doesn't. Sounds like me though.' She concedes and Charlie smiles in response.
'It does, that's why I had to ask.' He replies. He nearly confesses he had attempted to contact her when he had gotten out of prison, but she seemed to vanish into thin air. Back then he hadn't understood it, now it's very clear. He is what kept her in New York for as long as she was there.
Rose holds him tighter to her, stunned that even after this encounter, she isn't sated and must seek him out once more. Once is never enough. Hell look what happened when she had finally agreed to dinner all those years ago. There is something about him that draws her to him.
'I wish I had been…' She admits and then they fall into a silence. Not an awkward one, one of contemplation. And realisation. A thought then strikes her and she becomes worried. 'Charlie…who should I tell first? Meyer?'
'No, don't tell Meyer first. He doesn't need to know right away,' Charlie pauses and turns his gaze to her. 'Carlo. Tell Carlo. He'll inform the Families and everyone else, he'll be the most level headed.'
'Carlo…' Rose bites her lip, nervous Carlo wouldn't want to hear from her and question her immensely. Carlo, a sweet looking older man, had always unnerved her but make no mistake, she was sure he could flip with the drop of a hat. 'Okay, I'll tell Carlo first.'
'Thank you, Dove.' Charlie replies and Rose laces her fingers with him, placing a kiss on his head. She holds her breath, unsure if she want to breathe for fear if she does, he'll die that much sooner.
When she looks up to the entrance she can see the crowd of people waiting for them and pointing them in her direction when the paramedics arrive. They begin to run towards her. Rose glances down to Charlie but sees his eyes are closed. Rose feels the tears run down her face, angry that she didn't make it in time. Angry that she couldn't have been here sooner.
'Charlie?' Rose whispers and he barely opens his eyes in response to her. He reaches up with his free hand and places it on her cheek, rubbing the tears off of her and giving her a small smile.
'Indulge me, Rose, one last time.' Charlie pleads and Rose nods her head quickly, leaning around and placing a final kiss on, Charlie is elated to know that he'll get to take her tender kiss with him to the afterlife. Wherever it may be.
When he pulls away he settles against her once more, shutting his eyes. He doesn't reopen them again and when the paramedics grow closer, Rose attempts to rouse him, just in case.
'Charlie?' Rose calls, shaking him slightly. She widens her eyes and bites her lip, feeling sick. 'Charlie?' Her voice comes out frantic.
He doesn't answer her and the paramedics have arrived. She ignores what they're saying to her because her entire focus is on Charlie right now. He isn't breathing and has no pulse. Rose closes her eyes and holds him tight to her. When the paramedic grabs her arm, she snaps her eyes open.
'Signora, è necessario muoversi. Facciamo il nostro lavoro. Si può venire con noi, se volete, ma devi lasciarlo andare.'
Rose shakes her head at them and she is forcibly moved to her feet and out of the way, her hand slips from Charlie's and when the paramedic turns to her Rose brushes away the tears quickly. 'No, thank you…I don't want to go with you.'
'Ottimo.' The man replies and helps his partner lower the gurney to the floor.
Rose turns on her heel and runs back the way she came, brushing her tears away as she does. When she runs past a group of payphones perched just outside the airport, Rose stops and begins to dig around for some money to make the dreaded call to New York. She has to turn around because she can still see Charlie in airport.
Rose lifts the receiver, wiping the mouthpiece on her sleeve and depositing the money. She hopes Carlo is still at the same number, he has to be. Question is… is it Brooklyn or Long Island? Her hands are clammy and she swallows…she still doesn't know what to say to him, how to break the news to him. They've been friends forever…what should she say? She dials the number with trembling fingers and holds her breath waiting to see who would answer. It rings and rings, what if he doesn't answer? What if he doesn't want to talk to her? She stops herself. Panicking over nothing. She exhales shakily as someone lifts the receiver on the other end.
'Yes?'
'Carlo?' Rose breathes and there is a long drawn out pause. Rose can only imagine what's going on his head right about now. A girl from twenty odd years ago is calling him? He must be suspicious as all hell right now.
'Yes, Rose, is that you?'
'Yeah, it is…'
'No…'
'Yeah…hi.' Rose is unable to keep her voice at a steady, audible pace. Instead it comes out as a whisper.
'Hi.'
'Hi.' She repeats and closes her eyes at her stupidity. She can't think clearly.
'Hi…'
'Hi…' Rose clears her throat and glances back through the airport doors. She doesn't want to look so she has to forcibly turn herself away and focus on her conversation.
'What's this…?' Carlo begins before Rose has interrupted him.
'How's Catherine?' Rose had always liked her; a quiet, docile woman but she had a sharp wit to her. There had been many times they had been around one another that Catherine left her laughing so hard the tears rolled down her cheeks.
'She's well, thank you for asking.' Carlo's voice has a sigh in it and she can see he's getting rather on edge as to why she would be calling him out of the blue.
'And the kids?'
'Also well,' Carlo replies and Rose fingers the payphone cord as she struggles to think of how to tell him the news. She's drawing a blank. 'Rose, are you all right? You're not in…trouble, are you?'
'Huh? No, no.'
'Are you sure? I'd do what I could to help you if you needed it.' Carlo states seriously and it makes her smile slightly that even after all these years, he still considers her important to his Family. But that's a brutality that she doesn't need. Carlo is dangerous enough on his own, best not to involve the others.
'I am sure, but thanks, Carlo…I appreciate the gesture.' Rose responds seriously, still touched, in a small way, that he'd offer his protection to her.
'You're still a member of the Family, Rose.' Carlo reminds her and she hides her smiles in her sleeve, even if she knows Carlo wouldn't be able to tell the difference. They truly don't forget the bond formed between one another. Rose had never been entirely sure Carlo liked her back in the day, a quiet man, he normally didn't say much to her, that's why he had been so hard to gage.
'Which family?' She wonders and Carlo chuckles lightly.
'Mine. Charlie's.' He answers and Rose tilts her head, forgetting for a moment the year and his climb to power. Not to mention what he did to get there. Poor Albert…his assassination has become legend.
'No, did you really?' Rose breathes and another light laugh is heard over the phone. 'Carlo…congratulations. That's…wow. Wow.'
'Thank you, Rose.' Carlo replies sincerely, deciding not to fill her in on the events that led him to the top. She and Albert did go toe to toe many times, trading wits. He isn't sure how she would take it knowing that he had a hand in his assassination. Well, he shouldn't have ordered the hit on the civilian who aided in the capture of a criminal. They don't go after civilians.
Not to mention the fact that Anastasia had started to let all that power of being the head of the family go to his head. Wanting to make himself boss of all bosses. The very thing they had fought against decades ago! What they had rebelled against! That's why they had the Commission. To say that incensed him would have been an understatement.
'Yeah…' Rose breathes.
He lets a small sigh escape him and then clears his throat. Rose knows where this conversation is heading. She goes against her better judgment and turns back to see the paramedics shaking their heads. The sheet goes over. Rose widens her eyes from the shock and turns herself back into the safety of the payphone. 'Now…you had plenty of opportunity to call to see how I was over the last…' He trails off and Rose smiles.
'Twenty six years?' She offers and another light laugh from Carlo causes Rose to smile sadly.
'Yes, twenty-six years. Why now?'
Rose hesitates, the sound of words forming escape her mouth but she is unable to bring herself to form complete words. So much runs through her mind, does she just blurt it out? She is thinking about it but the words can't be vocalised. She starts and stops. Fresh tears well up and she hastily wipes them away with her sleeve.
'I…I'm…I'm in Naples.' Rose states, her tone is almost full of disbelief, like she's just admitted a secret. Silence on the other end of the phone, Rose doesn't realise that she's holding her breath until Carlo speaks and she exhales.
'Right now?'
'Yes.'
'You know…Charlie is living there. Maybe it'd be nice if you could stop by and see him. I'm sure I've got his address here somewhere,' Carlo states and Rose begins to hear the sound of drawers opening and papers shuffling. Rose bites her lip. 'It would make him very happy; he's never quite gotten over you, Rose, even if he never admitted it. Ah, here it is…'
'I…already saw him…' Rose whispers and again there is a long pause. A drawer shuts in her ear.
'Did you?' Carlo questions and Rose wraps her free arm around herself. She presses her lips together and squeezes her eyes shut.
'Yeah…yeah I did…' Rose inhales sharply and Carlo can hear the change in her voice. It falters between normal and failing to a whisper. She's hiding something. Or maybe she's having a hard time telling him something, something big, a big secret. The longer the silence stretches between them the more concerned he grows. 'I can't say it. Carlo, I can't say because I don't believe it's happened.'
'Rose, this is concerning. What's happened?' Carlo begs and Rose's hand shakes so she instead switches hands, so the one that's shaking is forced to hold the receiver. It doesn't do much good, and after awhile, Rose has switched hands once again.
'See…I…knew Charlie was here…that's why I came. And…I saw him, we met up again. But…' Her voice quivers and she hastily blinks away the tears. She can't imagine the thoughts that are going through Carlo's head right now and she knows that she has to tell him now. 'See, Carlo…Charlie, he…he just…died. In my arms, just now…he's gone. How can he be gone?' She inhales sharply to stop herself from sobbing and she questions everyone and no one. She's trying to keep the complete breakdown at bay.
Carlo is silent on the other end. Finally he exhales heavily into the receiver and Rose is glad, she thought for a moment he'd hung up. 'I will be on the next flight over.'
'Okay, okay thank you,' Rose breathes and clears her throat so that she can concentrate on their conversation. She glances into the airport to see the paramedics begin towards her. 'This really happened…how can it…?'
'I know, Rose, I know,' Carlo sighs into the phone and suddenly she's never felt more alone. 'Rose, I'm sorry but I must go, I have to tell Vito, Meyer…people have to be informed before I go.'
'I understand…' She whispers into the phone and uses her sleeve to wipe away her tears. 'Carlo…Charlie…didn't want me to stay, to be there…to see him…' She begins but stumbles over her words and so she stops.
'No, that's very much like him,' Carlo agreed and sighed heavily into the receiver. 'I expect you won't be there when I arrive then?'
'No, but I want to be, Carlo if he didn't tell me not to be there…' Rose's voice cracks and Carlo interrupts so she doesn't have to speak any more. He's rather surprised that after all this time apart; she still feels the same for Charlie as he did for her, even if he didn't want to her to hang around.
'I know you would, Rose, I know…'
'I just didn't want to go without telling you why…I didn't want to seem…callous, or have you or anyone think bad about me because I wasn't there.' Rose explains and notices the paramedics are getting closer. She doesn't want to be this close to him in this sense.
'I wouldn't think that, Rose.'
'Thank you…'
'I'm glad you were with him, at least he wasn't alone,' Carlo replies and Rose nods her head at his words, even if he can't see her and the tears well up behind her eyes again. Those words cut her deeply. 'Will you be all right?'
'Yeah, eventually I guess…'
'Then this is where we must part ways once again. A final time.' Carlo informs her and Rose smiles into the receiver, looking at her feet and then to the doors to the airport.
'Ciao, Carlo…'
'Goodbye Rose.' Carlo answers and Rose holds her breath as the paramedics begin to go through the doors towards their ambulance. She closes her eyes and turns away from them.
'Carlo…please…just…I mean…I want…to…' The words don't form correctly and there is a small exhale of a laugh. She closes her eyes so grateful that he understands where she's trying to go.
'I will.' Carlo agrees and Rose smiles a bit into the receiver.
'Thank you…'
Rose hangs up the phone and trudges towards a nearby bench, oddly enough facing the ambulance. She's quiet as she lets her thoughts run rampant in her head. She can smell his cologne on her…it's comforting, minimally comforting…just like before. Just like when she left him in prison after he all but pushed her out of the cell. She didn't wash that blouse for nearly a week, instead letting it hang on the hanger on a hook in her room, staring at it for what felt like ever. Because it reminded her of him and it smelled of him. Just a sliver of minimal comfort.
Getting over him hadn't been easy; throwing herself into her work merely distracted her. The harder she worked, the less time she had to be alone with her thoughts. Less time to think. About Charlie. About them together and how much fun she had with him. She had done the same thing when she lost John.
But…at the end of the night, when she would go to whatever room she was staying at for the night, she would stand in the middle, half expecting him to appear beside her and how hard she had to fight the clawing need to visit him in prison, just because. Because she could. Nothing made any room she was in feel emptier than wanting him in it.
Inevitably the thoughts would turn into her comparing her feelings when she lost John. That made her bitter and angry. So she worked harder to forget them both. Because it would be better that way. She was better off alone. That way, those she had grown to love, those she had fallen for so hard, wouldn't leave her, thrusting her into loneliness once again. That was her loneliest moment. Watching her life begin to crumble around her, piece by piece and all she could do was stare blankly. She buries her face into her hands and waits for the flood of tears and sobs to escape from her, having wanted to for so long.
Strangely the breakdown never comes, she feels the tears falling, steadily, but that's it. What's wrong with her? How could she be all right with this happening? She knew coming had been a bad idea but the memories evoked by her discussing her surprising long and memorable time with him made her pine for him once more. If only she had arrived sooner…
'Thought I might find you here.'
Rose doesn't look up or acknowledge he's sitting beside her; her back is towards him so that she can see the scene unfolding before her. Instead she watches the ambulance slowly drive away. They had attempted to revive him but couldn't. There wasn't really a rush now to get back to the hospital. She watches it drive down the road until it disappears around the corner.
'Did you now?' Rose wonders bitterly and watches as the crowds build and the news reporters arrive. She feels sick. They're like vultures. That hadn't taken long. She thought she'd be gone by now, but something is holding her here. However some of those people that had been around them earlier are pointing the media towards her.
'Given what happened, and I couldn't find you on the TARDIS…I took a guess.'
'I'm still not talking to you.' Rose announces and crosses her arms, still not turning to him. She doesn't want to give him the satisfaction.
'Rose…' He stops and glances to the crowd forming as they begin to head towards her. Even though they just had a major fight he's still protective of her. He doesn't want her to be bothered by the media after something like this. 'Can we talk about this on the TARDIS?'
'I have my own ride, thanks.' Rose responds and holds up her left arm; no doubt the jacket sleeve is hiding the manipulator.
'Look, I know we had a bad fight, Rose, but running away isn't going to solve anything.'
'Who says I'm running?' She questions and sets her jaw, she still doesn't want to look at him for fear she could say something she may regret. He couldn't even leave her in peace to grieve for her loss. Like he'd understand anyway. 'I'm giving myself space…'
'I know you think I won't understand…' He begins and Rose narrows her eyes spinning around to look at him finally and he's rather taken back by the anger in her eyes, but also how red they are, she's been crying. But…he doesn't really understand why.
'You're right, you won't. You said what you wanted to earlier. Tried to make me feel terrible about my relationship with him, but here's the thing, where the hell were you? Ah, right, I had no idea. And as I told you earlier, he made me happy and made me feel normal.' Rose informs him and she crosses her arms at him and he remains silent.
Clearly she isn't ready to get over this, it had been a rather nasty fight and she doesn't want to talk about it. Well, she can't sweep it under the rug he won't let her.
'He was still a criminal, Rose. He committed terrible crimes, why can't you see that?' He regrets the words immediately when they leave his mouth. They seem to stun her as well because she stares at him in shock and he can see how deeply they've cut her.
'Yes, you never fail to point that out. Thank you, I'm well aware of that. But hey, you got English royalty, what's wrong with mob royalty?' Rose questions sarcastically and stands while he stares at her in shock. The media surrounds them and manages to separate Rose from him and she grows more and more annoyed. She balls her fists. She nearly adds something that could hurt him deeply too, nearly shouts to him that falling in love with him, as he who stands before her now, had been the most exquisite form of self destruction. But she bites her tongue and exhales her anger.
'Mi scusi, signora? Signora? Un attimo del tuo tempo? Signora?' A man pushes a microphone under her nose and Rose bats it away. She turns to leave but another man is right in front of her, except he's holding a small notebook and has a pen poised.
'Qual è il tuo collegamento per Luci…?' He demands and Rose pushes him to the side, he doesn't get to finish his sentence since she's storming off. She turns back to the small crowd of reporters that stare ready for an explanation and her side of the story, pencils poised above notepads.
'Je ne parle pas italien,' Rose fumes in French and points to the Doctor. She narrows her eyes and takes a step back. She doesn't want to be bothered, least of all by him. She just wants time because she's certain that if they get together in the same room it'll dissolve into nothing but a fight. 'Don't follow me. I'm serious. I'll come back when I'm good and ready and certain we won't fight.'
She heads off towards the main road and the moment the road leads to a series of buildings she ducks behind them and activates the manipulator. She has no idea where she's going but she doesn't care. All she wants right now is quiet.
The Doctor heads back to the TARDIS. This is serious. What if she never comes back, and for what? Because they're fighting over their jealousy? Actually, he's managed to flip it around on her again; she's not had a chance to yell at him for what had happened with Liz. He's been so concerned with guilt tripping her for her decisions that she's been on the defense all day, no chance for the offence. He frowns. He'll just have to see, and hope that she'll come back when she's ready. He just hopes that it isn't long. He bows his head trudges back to the TARDIS to play a game he's always hated playing. Waiting. However maybe he can turn this into a learning process…