Even though she was waking up in her own bed, in her own room, and everything looked exactly as she'd left it, Rose knew that something was different. She could feel it, almost in the same way that the air changes before an oncoming storm. It un-nerved her. She wanted to put it down to her lack of sleep, as all night she had been disturbed by dark dreams of the Doctor. She had no idea if they were flights of fancy, or real memories trying to struggle to the surface. But the feelings they had left her with... troubled her. Pushing them to the back of her mind, she got dressed and went through to the kitchen, where she could smell toast burning.
"Morning sweetheart!" Jackie was wearing a pink satin dressing gown and pink fluffy slippers. "I've made breakfast." She put a mug of tea onto the table, and Rose sat down. She almost reached across for the tea, but something made her stop. She looked at the mug. It was a Charles and Diana royal wedding one, slightly chipped.
"That's not my mug. My mug has a rose on it."
Jackie turned and frowned at Rose. "Oh." She said at last. "I broke it, sorry. The handle came off. Anyway that's a nice mug... it has sentimental value."
Rose said nothing, and dragged the chipped sentimental mug toward her. She sipped the tea, and for some reason wasn't in the least bit surprised to find it was too hot, too sweet, and too milky. But she drank it anyway.
Jackie put a plate of well done toast down infront of her. "Eat up." She encouraged.
Rose almost choked on her tea. She put the mug back down. "Not hungry."
Jackie looked disapointed. "But Rose..." That was as far as she got, as there was a sudden noise at the front door.
Rose jumped. "Don't answer it!"
Jackie looked at her as if she was mad. She shook her head, and went to answer the door, a minute later she was back. She sat opposite Rose and dropped a pile of letters onto the table.
"It was just the post." She said with an air of disapointment.
Rose didn't want to ask, she really, really, didn't want to ask. But she had to. "Was.. was he... goodlooking... the postman?"
Jackie frowned. "You don't half ask some odd questions since you took up with that Doctor."
"Was he?" Rose asked, more determined than before. Somehow it mattered.
Jackie stood up, and walked over to the sink. "No love... 'he' wasn't good looking. Cos, her name is Sally... and she's a woman." She turned to look at Rose. "Is there anything you want to know about the milkman while we're at it?"
Rose sighed, feeling a sense of relief, that she couldn't really understand. She smiled. "No, it's...ok."
Jackie was at Roses side again. She brushed back her hair, and peered at the healing wound on her daughters forehead. "I s'pose you got that on some alien planet then?"
Rose nodded.
Jackie scowled. "You should get a Doctor to have a look at it. Might be infected with some kind of alien super bug."
"Mum.." Rose rolled her eyes.
"Tina on reception owes me a favour, maybe she can..."
Rose stood up, her chair screetching backwards."No!" She said, making for the front door."I'm going out."
"Rose!" Jackie called after her, but it was no good, Rose was already out of the door, and running.
Jackie sighed as she watched the door slam shut. She shook her head slightly, oh the neighbours would love that at this time of the morning! Her foot knocked something on the floor under the table, and she looked down. It was Roses bag, the one she'd had with her last night, when she'd come home. She smiled as she looked at it. In flight luggage she thought, and her smile grew wider. She picked the bag up and headed into Roses room with it.
Rose was out of breath when she eventually stopped running. She didn't know if she'd been running away from something - or to something. Either way, she stopped when she got to the tarmac court, where the local kids played football, rode bikes, and scrawled their names on walls, and... she looked down and saw it. She swallowed hard, and knew. She had been running to something. To this. BAD WOLF. She felt the connection to the half scrubbed away words of graffiti, but couldn't explain it. She couldn't really remember what it meant, but she was certain that it did mean... something. Something important.
She groaned out loud with frustration. Her head was spinning. All she had were questions. But what she wanted was answers. She had come home, because that was what she knew. Or thought she knew. This place, Earth, was home. But at the same time it was different... no... she was the one that was different. She was the one who had changed. Even if she couldn't remember how or why, she knew that she had. She looked up at the sky, and stared into the grey clouds that were gathering. She had travelled and come home. The Doctor had brought her home, because she had asked him to. She should be happy. So why wasn't she?
She pulled the zipper up on her jacket, the air was colder now, the daylight turning to grey around her. She set off walking, only half aware that a storm was coming, only half caring. Around the corner and across the road, she caught a bus. She smiled to herself as she sat down and looked at the other passengers... if only they knew what was out there. Her smile drifted, and she turned her face to stare out of the window, and the grey clouds darkened, and the rain began to fall.
Jackie dropped the bag onto Roses bed and unzipped it. Her hand slipped inside, expecting to pull out a bundle of unwashed clothes ready for the machine. But instead her fingers closed over a book. She pulled it out of the bag and looked at it in surprise. It was quite attractive looking. Medium sized, with a strokeably soft crimson suede cover, and a narrow black ribbon which trailed out from between the ivory pages. Jackie knew at once what it was. She wished that she hadn't opened the bag, wished that she hadn't found the book. But she 'had' opened the bag, she 'had' found the book. That was the trouble. Her fingers brushed over the books cover and Jackie trembled a little, hating herself for what she was about to do. But she had to do it. No choice. She drew in a breath to steady her nerve, then carefully opened the books cover. Her eyes fell to the words written in black ink across the first page. 'The Diary of Rose Tyler'. She let out a small sigh, then sat down on Roses bed and turned the page carefully. She looked at the date - if it was a date, that Rose had written in the top right hand corner of the page. Platform One, 5.5/Apple/26. An involuntary breath escaped Jackies lips. Then she began to read.
Rose sat on a wall across the street from Henricks. Just looking. She didn't remember the details of what had happened at the shop... it was all very sketchy in her head. But by the looks of things, she had been lucky to get out alive. Whatever had happened.
The building was all blown out windows, and scaffold now, most of the shop front was covered with a large plastic banner, announcing that the store was closed for refurbishment (no kidding), and would be re-opening soon. She wondered if she'd get her job back. Then she wondered if she wanted her job back. She couldn't answer either question.
Her stomach rumbled, she was hungry, at least she knew that. She got up and started walking, there had to be a chip shop around somewhere. She stopped suddenly, a cold memory touching her. Get up, catch the bus, go to work, come back home, eat chips and go to bed. Was that it? Was that what she had come home for? Was that her future?
She wiped away a tear. She hadn't even realised that she had been crying. She pushed her hands deep into her pockets and carried on walking.
Jackie closed Roses diary, and set the book on her lap. She looked at it, and stroked it's red suede cover almost as if it was a cat, curled up and fast asleep. Then she lifted her hand to her mouth, to prevent a sob, and she fought back tears. She stood up quickly, turning her attention back to the bag. She looked at it, then stuffed the diary back inside, pulling the zip closed again. Once that was done she sighed with relief, and dropped the bag onto the floor, kicking it under the bed slightly. Her eyes skimmed the room, pictures, posters, soft toys, stray socks... Rose was everywhere. But Jackie understood now that her little girl was gone, she'd grown up. She'd seen so much, and lost so much more. Jackie walked to the doorway then glanced back, giving the bag under the bed one last lingering look. Rose would never know she'd read her diary... and she would never tell her otherwise. She walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.
The next day came and went, then the next, then the next. Soon it was a week since Rose had come home. She slipped back into routine, making no rebellion against it. She would spend her time with Shireen and Mickey, and at night she would curl up infront of the tv. Everything was... normal. But sometimes Jackie would see the loss in Roses eyes, and she would have to look away, bite her tongue, and convince herself that she hadn't seen anything at all.
She was doing just that now, over another breakfast. As Rose absentmindedly stirred a spoon through her half eaten bowl of cereal. Jackie sat down across from her, and Rose looked up, her eyes sharp again.
"You're still not sleeping right are you?" Jackie asked.
Rose shrugged her shoulders. "I'm fine."
"I heard you walking around last night..."
"Sorry."
Jackie hesitated. "You dream about him don't you? That's why you don't want to go to sleep. The nightmares."
Rose looked up. There was no point in lying. "They're not nightmares." She said quietly. "I think they might be memories."
"What kind of memories?" Jackie wanted to know.
"Dunno. It's all... hazy. Just flashbacks. Faces, voices." She looked at her Mum. "Feelings."
"Oh Rose." It was all she could say.
Rose straightened in her chair."It's okay." She lied brightly. "I'm okay. I promise I'll get some sleep tonight. How's that?"
Jackie cheered up slightly. "Promise?"
"Promise." Rose repeated.
Jackie smiled, feeling much better. "You know... a job would do you no end of good."
Rose frowned, knowing that this was leading somewhere. "Oh yeah?"
"There's a new clothes shop opening up on Ferndene Road. You could always give them a go." Jackie suggested. "You've done shop work... you'd like it."
Rose shook her head."No... can't"
"Why not?" Jackie wanted to know.
"I just can't." But Rose saw that her Mum wasn't satisfied, and gave in. "I walked past that place yesterday. They had a window full of shop dummies... freaked me out. I had to go to McDonalds for a coffee." She sighed. "It was well weird."
Jackie looked at Rose. "Oh." She sipped her tea, and didn't mention it again.
Reluctantly Rose had agreed to go to a club with Mickey. He and her Mum had ganged up on her. She'd had no choice. They wanted her to be the person she had been. How could she tell them that the Rose they knew didn't exist anymore? She couldn't. So she had gone. She'd dressed up in something pretty, just as her Mum had begged her to, and she'd danced with Mickey just as he'd wanted her to. She'd even talked in the loos with Shireen, just cos that's what the old Rose would have done. But by midnight, she had known without a shadow of a doubt, that she wasn't the old Rose. Not anymore. She hadn't been for a long time.
Shireen had stayed on at the club, she'd bumped into an old boyfriend, and was more than happy for Rose and Mickey to catch a taxi back to the Powell Estate without her. She told Rose that with any luck, she'd be heading in the direction of the other side of town anyway - if Karl played his cards right.
Mickey held her hand as they walked toward the flats. He asked hopefully if she wanted to go back to his, rather than home to Jackie. He was sweet, and offered coffee, and promised to order pizza - her choice. But Rose knew that he wanted her to stay with him, to spend the night, and she couldn't do that. How could she sleep with Mickey, when another man walked through her dreams? It just wasn't right to do that. Mickey deserved better than she could give him. She knew it, and if he was honest... so did he.
So, gentleman that he was, Mickey walked her to her front door, and kissed her cheek. He looked at her with soft puppy dog eyes, then turned and walked away. Rose pushed her key into the lock and walked inside, closing and locking the door behind her. She let her eyes grow accustomed to the darkness inside the flat, not wanting to switch on any lights that might wake her Mum. Besides, somehow life, existance, was less real in the dark. She kicked off her pretty pink sequin strewn shoes, leaving them by the front door, and walked barefoot across the carpet to her room.
Once inside she closed the door and walked through the dark to her bed, thinking that she would just lie down and rest a little. For a while. Dreams were unwanted tonight. She hurt too much. Her foot brushed against something under the bed and she bent down to pull it out, lifting it, she dropped it on the bed and switched on the small bedside lamp. It was just her bag. For a second she stared at it, then she sat down on the bed and unzipped it, putting her hand inside. The first thing she touched was smooth and cold, almost too cold. Her fingers curled around it and she withdrew it from the bag, holding it in her hand. Slowly she opened her fingers, and looked at what she held in her palm. It was no more than a key on a chain. A bright, shiny, cold, silver key. She looked at it, and then the Earth fell away like a landslide, and she let out a ragged, desperate breath, as violently, brutally, her memory crashed back into her with breathtaking force. She dropped the key, and it slid to the floor, where she watched it flash like starlight, as her tears began to fall, and she too slid to the floor, burying her face in her hands as she sobbed uncontrollably. She knew everything now. Everything she had known, and everthing she had lost. It was unbearable.