Okay, so he'd lied. What of it? Instead of going to his room, Mickey made a detour for the control room, where he'd last seen the Doctor standing there at the console. Sure enough, there he was, staring at a particularly obnoxious blinky light. A sheet of paper sat unfolded in front of him, though he wasn't paying attention to it anymore. After a few moments, he finally realized that Mickey was standing there looking at him, and turned to look at him as well, with a halfhearted smile. He didn't bother to speak, though. Great. Mickey'd have to take the first step, then.
Which he did. He approached the Doctor, gesturing towards the letter on the console. "So what's that, then," he asked. The Doctor looked at the letter, then at him, and quickly folded it back up to put it into his jacket pocket. Mickey nodded, shoving his hands into his own pockets. "Yeah, 'swhat I thought, I guess." There were a few moments of silence—Mickey wasn't sure what to say and the Doctor wasn't…well, when it came to Mickey, he wasn't exactly a man of many words. Finally, Mickey found his tongue again. "So what was it like?" He asked. The Doctor looked at him curiously. "I mean, crashing through that time window and knowing you'd never come back."
The Doctor blinked a few times and looked away, obviously believing one of the buttons on the switchboard to be incredibly important at this exact instant. Mickey waited a few moments, giving the man the benefit of the doubt, in hopes that he was trying to come up with an answer. When he realized that either he was being ignored or just wasn't going to get said answer, he sighed and elaborated, with the intention of getting a rise out of this silent, almost-sullen man. "Because I can tell you what it was like on our end. Rose stood there right in front of that spot where you disappeared for five and a half hours, Doctor, did you know that? I thought she was going to have a bloody breakdown or something."
The Doctor looked at him, and his eyes were somewhat pained. This didn't stop Mickey—the expression on the Doctor's face was nothing compared to what he'd seen from Rose earlier that day. "You could have at least told her goodbye, you know. She didn't get nothing from you, not even a nod or a hug. You two hug a lot, right? How come you didn't say nothing to her before you left? What if that had been the last time she'd see you? And you couldn't even give her a proper goodbye."
The Doctor now opened his mouth to speak, but Mickey wasn't done with him yet. Sure, he risked getting thrown off the ship to float through space and ultimately die, but someone had to say these things. Rose wasn't going to: that was for damn sure. She was too logical about this whole thing, or that's what she wanted him to think, anyway. He stepped closer to the man in the suit, and continued.
"I'm sorry that whatever happened with that French lady, happened, but it did, Doctor, and that's over, ain't it? But Rose is in there in her room now, pretending to be asleep and fully convinced that she's worth nothing to you." He caught the man's eyes, wondering where the hell this courage was coming from. The Doctor looked truly upset now, even more so than he had when he'd boarded the TARDIS earlier. Mickey softened his own expression into something regarding sympathy, and lowered his voice. "And we both know that ain't true, don't we, mate?"
The Doctor turned away from him now, obviously distressed. He ran his fingers through his already-messy hair, making it even more impossibly tousled. Mickey felt a slight twinge of pity for the man. After all, he'd only been trying to do what he thought was right, wasn't he? "Did…did she say that?" he asked, finally speaking. His voice was strange, strained and almost cracking. "Does she really think that?" He turned to Mickey now, studying his face. "She can't…she must know…"
Mickey shook his head, almost imperceptibly, and the Doctor's entire stance just sort of…dropped. His shoulders slumped and he went over to sit down, holding his head in his hands. "I've made a mess of things, Mickey," he mumbled. "It's like I can't do anything right when it comes to her."
Mickey hesitated before walking over to the man in the chair. Comforting blokes wasn't exactly his strongest suit. With good reason. He cleared his throat and leaned on the control panel, after first making sure he wasn't going to accidentally sit on any important lever or something. "You can do something, you know," he said. "She's just in there, in her room."
The Doctor looked up at him, somewhat skeptically. "You think she'll let me in, after tonight?"
Mickey shrugged. He could leap through time windows into France, but was afraid to cross the threshold into a small, blonde human's bedroom? "It's worth a try, ain't it, Doctor?"