Trigger Warnings: Mentions of abuse, eating disorders, thoughts of suicide and a traumatic event
The Doctor's mind was pulled back into Rose's past with so much force that he couldn't stop it now even if he wanted to. It had been a long time since the Doctor felt his mind being pulled so deeply into someone else's memories, to not only look upon them but to experience them for himself. He had glimpsed parts of Rose's past but this was going to be different. He had never seen anything from her mind that he was experience for himself from her perspective so completely.
He could now clearly see a young Rose, probably a good three years before he'd met her. She stood looking at herself in a bathroom mirror but he could tell from her surroundings that it was not the one in her flat at home. It amazed him how much he felt as if he were really there with her. It had been centuries since he'd been this close with someone and he had forgotten just how real a memory could become. The Doctor walked closer to her to see her better and he half expected her to see him but of course she didn't.
He almost didn't recognize her. The Doctor was now only a few inches from her but instead of recognizing her more he recognized her less. It was not the younger face that made her look so different, though it still amazed him how much a human face could change in a mere three years. It was everything in her expression that was unrecognizable. Everything about it was wrong; nothing about it was her. Her face, the physical features of it, were so young; she looked like a child still. But the expression she wore on top of it belonged to someone older. The things her eyes held were not that of a young girl but that of a woman who had experienced things that had aged her.
She looked so small and so sad the Doctor longed to reach out and hold her. He couldn't quite remember that he was holding her right now and that the Rose he was seeing was a memory. He was becoming more and more a part of the memory and he could feel what she was feeling, what she had felt then. He could no longer remember the present.
She was so lonely. He knew well the way it looked on a person and he saw it all over her face. She just stared at herself in the mirror with dead eyes. They were so dark, darker than he'd ever seen them, as they stared back at her. They were surrounded by smudged mascara that spoke of tears she'd shed but her face was currently devoid of emotion in a scary way.
But more than seeing she was lonely he could feel it. He knew what it was to feel all alone, to feel like you had no one in the world but he had not been prepared to feel the way she felt it. Mixed in with the loneliness was self-loathing, liked she deserved to feel this way. He knew the combination well, or at least he knew the way he felt it. The way she felt it was completely new to him and was something he thought should never be. He knew what had led him to feel that way at times. He didn't want to believe that there was anything inside of her that would make her feel that way.
Rose reached down and took off her shirt and carelessly threw it in the floor, still staring at herself in the mirror. The Doctor felt like he shouldn't be seeing this but it was not for any reason he might have imagined. It was not the sight of her body that made him feel he should turn away but it was the secrets that were so obvious on it that made him feel as if he were invading her privacy. But he was unable to look away; he was so far into this that the thought didn't even occur to him.
She was so thin, too thin. It was not just that she was younger and smaller. The difference between her now and her then was too much to have only just been a matter of a few years. It was unnatural and he painfully knew it was also self-inflicted. He never wanted Rose to be in pain and he certainly didn't want her to the one causing herself harm. But by the way she looked it was undeniable that she had made herself look that way.
As troubling as this sight was and the revelation that it brought with it, there was a worse secret that her body told. She looked so fragile like she might break in two at the slightest of touches but there was evidence that wasn't possible. His eyes fixed on the dark marks on her shoulders where she had been gripped too hard by fingers that were much larger than hers and the same marks on her sides where she had been bound too roughly.
These were not self-inflicted. The Doctor's gaze focused on them and he couldn't stop the fire that flamed up inside of him at the sight of them on Rose's skin. They had been left by someone who had not cherished Rose, who should never have been allowed to touch her in any way, let alone in the way those marks suggested. The Doctor was sure he had never been as angry as he was right now as he wondered who could leave these bruises on her. He imagined ending such a person who would be capable of hurting Rose in that way.
The Doctor was glad he didn't know who this man was. He had never wanted someone dead as much as he wanted this unknown man to die. If he saw the sight of such a vile creature he would be forced to remove him and probably his entire family from history, ridding humankind of such a tainted bloodline. Rules or no rules it wouldn't matter; he knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself from sparing Rose of having to experience this pain.
But Rose was not paying attention to the marks. She didn't even seem to notice them. They were nothing new and they no longer caught her attention like they may have at one time. They were commonplace. She also wasn't gazing upon her appearance. Though the sight of her thin frame was a surprise to the Doctor it wasn't to her. Neither of these sights were the reason for the expression she now bore. There was more. The Doctor wondered how he could bare knowing any more of her pain.
Rose looked down and gently clutched her stomach with both of her hands. This was nothing to do with her weight. She was not clutching at something that was there. She was not struggling with the weight she carried there. That battle had been going on for some time now. No, it was worse than that. She was reaching for something that wasn't there.
The Doctor steadied himself as he was pulled completely into the memory, to feel it as she felt it, to hear what she was thinking. Though he knew he would have to deal with it later it was a small bit of relief to disconnect with his mind and the pain and anger of his own thoughts.
Rose had been planning on taking a shower but decided against it. As she started down at where her hands rested she started to feel the pain returning and the merciful numbness she had felt briefly was fading away. A flood was rising up inside of her and if it unleashed when she was in the shower she might just drown. Instead, she reached under sink and retrieved a bottle half full of some very strong looking liquid. She sat down in the tub and started drinking so fast she didn't even take a breath. She downed the rest of the bottle like it was nothing and stared blankly at it for a few minutes. She hoped it would dull the feelings but she knew it wouldn't. It never did anymore. She took a deep breath and shuttered as the emotions she'd been numb started to break through. She took the bottle and threw it against the wall where it shattered loudly.
She pulled her legs to herself and wrapped her arms around them. She buried her face into her knees, sobbing as she remembered the day. All she wanted to do was go home. She had a rare urge to be with her mum. She just wanted to go home and have her mum hold her. She longed to be taken care of, to have someone take all of her pain away. Her mum hadn't really been very good at that in the past but Rose wanted it from her still and she knew her mum could give her at least a little comfort. She was so lonely and she figured anything had to be better than this. She used to think she knew what lonely was. It was partly what had driven from her mum and home. But a year and many bad choices later she realized she didn't know what it truly was until this moment.
She still ached inside and she wrapped her arms around her middle to try and make it go away. Physically, it was unlike any pain she had ever known. The pain of it had been much worse than she had expected and it lingered still, hours later. But she knew that this pain would fade with time. It was the other ache, the one inside of her heart that she feared the most. She was sure that this one would never fade. It was much like the worse emotions she already carried with her. It was like the shame and loneliness and grief she already bore but magnified so that it outdid them all. She wondered how she had ever gotten to this point, how it ever could have become this bad.
She had started out with Jimmy because he was exciting. She liked that he was kind of dangerous but mostly he was just fun. They had a good time together. He was wild and unexpected and the very contrast to everything she knew in her boring life. But if she was honest with herself even in the good days (if you could call the early times that) Jimmy was only a distraction. He was something to take her away from her dull and disappointing life. He satisfied her adventurous spirit. He helped her to pretend that she wasn't sad and lonely.
No one had ever noticed her before. Everyone overlooked her. She was never very good at making friends. She had a few but she was far away from being popular. At home it was only her and her mum and her mum was rarely there. Even when her mum was around she was distracted by someone or something else. So, when Jimmy had sought her out it had felt good. It seemed that no one took notice of her even if she was trying to be noticed. Certainly, boys had never paid her much attention. But Jimmy not only noticed her; he liked her.
And it had been exciting in the beginning. There were so many new experiences. Jimmy was considerably older than her so he'd been out of school already and living in his own flat when she'd met him. It was not long before she dropped out of school and moved in with him so they could spend more time together. She had always hated school anyways and it took very little encouragement for her to ditch it. Her mum was furious, of course, but Rose didn't care. Mum was hardly home at all herself so Rose was sure her mum wouldn't even notice her absence. Rose was sure her mum only got mad because she wanted to stop Rose from having fun or any happiness of her own. It wasn't because she really cared.
She'd really gotten caught up it in all. She'd only done what she wanted in the moment because it was good to have something that was exciting. It was good to actually be wanted. So, she didn't listen to the doubt and whispers that tried to tell her things. After all, she had only been 15 when she met Jimmy. She only pushed the doubts away and did what Jimmy wanted because she was sure that she was only being a child and needed to grow up. She was happy with Jimmy and she wanted him to be happy too. She did whatever he wanted and she gave him anything he asked for. She was having a good time and she didn't want it to end.
But it had ended and all too soon. Because she had been having such a good time she had misunderstood when things were changing. Actually, it wasn't misunderstanding; she was deceiving herself. She thought it had come on suddenly but it had been there all along. She hadn't seen it because she hadn't really known Jimmy when she'd moved in with him. He hadn't changed; she had just started to see him for who he really was.
She tried to make the best of it. Jimmy was an adult and she hadn't been used to grown up life. But she knew it was a combination of good and bad. She knew it wasn't easy. Jimmy had a job he didn't really like and that didn't pay well. He had bills to pay and money was tight. She tried to help but she knew nothing she was doing was enough. She wanted to make it better so she had told herself that the anger was just frustration and it was alright if he directed it at her even when it wasn't her fault. Didn't everyone say things they didn't mean when they were upset? She had chosen to see the possessiveness as love. She had told herself to believe that the rough way he handled her was just passion.
He rarely used his hands to inflict pain on her. It was only in the midst of their most intimate times that he became a little too forceful with her and sometimes it left marks. She hadn't seen it as a problem given the nature of the marks. She really just thought he let himself get carried. And she was so inexperienced she thought maybe it was supposed to be that way.
It wasn't until time started passing that she knew something was wrong. She always had known it all along. Maybe it was because, even after they had been together she felt empty. It was never what she imagined it would be. It was always faster and harder and much farther than she ever wanted to go. It was never quite what she wanted or what she needed it. But her opinion never had seemed to carry any weight or importance especially in that area. Her opinion in anything really didn't seem to matter so she'd given up having one a long time ago.
Maybe those times felt so empty because even then he never said she was beautiful. She was only a body to him and she was a poor excuse for one at that. She was never good enough. Small comments from him at the start had firmly embedded themselves in her mind, growing into terrible doubts that made her see herself in ways she never had before. She had taken drastic measures right away to try and change those flaws. She had done this to herself but no matter what she did it never made his opinion of her any better. His comments were subtle but they never went away.
She looked at her own body now and was repulsed by it. She wished for it as it had been, not as it was now. She had made it look this way and for what reason? It never made her body enough to please and it never kept her from hating it. It never made anyone else say it was beautiful and never made her think it was anything but ugly. Jimmy had still, after all this time, not once ever said she was beautiful. He always had something ugly to say instead.
That was his weapon of choice. He was too smart, too clever for brute force alone. He left the majority of his marks more than skin deep. He used his words, his feelings to hurt her the most. These marks left themselves on her heart and mind and they didn't fade as easily or as quickly as a bruise on the skin would. These kinds of injuries not only hurt her but got her to hurt herself. He not only used them as weapons against her but she used them as weapons against herself. Just as it was with his comments about her body so it was with anything else he said. It wasn't long before his comments made her say the same things, think the same thoughts, believe the same ways he did about her.
She found herself in a most dangerous place. There were enough good times she could convince herself that she should stay with him. And the bad times weren't quite bad enough to convince her to leave him. It left her in a perpetual battle with him and with herself. Just as one of his outbursts had nearly convinced her to leave he would give her a reason to stay. She put up with the bad times because there were good ones too. Wasn't that better than having no good times at all? She'd always thought so but now she wasn't so sure.
Today all her lies were coming into light. After what had happened today, she could no longer refuse to see things for the way they truly were. After what she had done today she could not deny the control she had allowed Jimmy to have over her. She'd honestly known that for a long time she'd just never had the guts to admit it to herself. It was better to cling to her thin beliefs and not look at them too hard than to really see her life for what it was. Everything she had built was unraveling before her. She didn't even know who she was anymore. What was she becoming?
If this was love she wanted no part of it. She felt like she was starving on the inside. If love was giving and giving but never getting anything in return she didn't want it. If love was hurting your body to make it look better than she did not want it. If love was doing things you didn't like and weren't comfortable with in order to show it to someone else then she didn't want it.
But she knew this wasn't love. If it were love she wouldn't have done what she had today. She had never experienced love but she knew enough to know that this wasn't it. He had never loved her she knew that now. She felt so stupid. Of course he didn't love her and she should have known that. He never once said it. He hadn't given her anything and she'd just willingly given him everything.
She sobbed even harder now, ashamed at herself. Why had she stayed with Jimmy all of this time? Why had she put up with all of this? Jimmy didn't love her and didn't take of her. He hurt her and still she was desperate to stay with him. She hadn't realized how much she was willing to do to stay with him. If he had really loved her everything would have been different.
If it were love it wouldn't have stopped if she had told him she was pregnant. If it were love she wouldn't have been so afraid that she didn't even tell him when she found out. She had been so afraid of what he would say, what he would do to her when he found out. But mostly she was just afraid that he would leave her. She didn't even have to ask to know that Jimmy wasn't going to be anyone's father. She knew that if she had told him she was pregnant he would have left her. If it were love she wouldn't have had to choose between the baby inside of her and the man who had helped create it.
But today she had chosen.
They'd told her the baby would've never survived. The way she starved her body would never allow it to sustain a pregnancy. They told her that when she'd started to sob after it was over, already knowing she'd made a terrible mistake but there was nothing she could do to take it back. They told her she shouldn't have even been able to get pregnant. As if any of that were supposed to make her feel better. As if that removed her guilt. All of this was her doing and she knew she would have to live with the guilt of it forever.
She hadn't thought of the guilt she would have to carry. She had thought she was taking the easy way out. But this was not easy. The guilt of this was so heavy she wasn't sure how she would ever be able to carry it. She was so ashamed she could hardly even look at herself. It was worse than she could have ever dreamed and she was so weak she didn't think she could handle it.
If this was life she didn't want to live anymore. Was this really what life was? Is this really as good as this were going to get for her? Because if it was then she didn't think she could bear it any longer. If the rest of her life was like the past year she'd just had then she didn't want any more. She was suddenly paralyzed by the feeling that things would never get better. She actually felt for a moment that she had no hope at all. She felt it just had to end and that she would not go on. It frightened her; she had never felt this way.
The tears had stopped but it didn't make her feel better. Her feelings were going away but they were replaced with a nothingness and all she could think of was that she wanted it to be over. She looked at the shattered remains of bottle on floor. She picked up a large piece of it and stared at it. It was broken, like her. It could never be put back together again. She felt like that inside. She feared she could never be whole again. She looked at the piece of glass in her hand and thought of how easily it could all go away.
It would be easier than to keep going. She was so tired. She was exhausted in every way. Even if she'd had any energy she didn't even know where she would go from here.
Something seemed to snap inside of her as she really thought about what she was considering doing. She now stared at the glass in her hand, horrified that she was actually considering doing this. Why was she still so concerned in taking the easy path? The easy path was what had led her to the position she was in right now. When had she accepted this? When had she agreed to allow this to be her life? When had she allowed others to guide her decisions so drastically?
Yes, it had to end. Not life entirely, but this life, her life as it was now had to be destroyed. For so long she had only been drifting through life, only taking things as they came to her. She had felt that Jimmy's behavior and her indifference about it was only hurting her. She saw no harm in it when she was the only victim. But today, with her consent, it had hurt someone else. And she would not stand for that. She didn't know who this woman was that she had become but she knew she did not want to be her anymore. She would not be her anymore.
Something was shifting inside of her. Something was changing. Not going back the way it was before all of this started. Something new, feelings she was unfamiliar with, were coursing through her. Determination was building inside of her. She felt strength there also. It had been so long since she had felt this way; she may never have felt this way. But she liked the way it felt. There was spunk and attitude in her that she'd forgotten she'd had. She didn't know where it was coming from but she knew she was going to need it.
"No more," she said squeezing her hand around the piece of glass and squeezing hard. She felt it cut into her hand but she didn't care. She'd been thinking of a way out and there was a way out. She didn't have to be this version of herself anymore. She had done so much, so many things she regretted because of Jimmy. Nothing worse than what she had done today. But this was the end. Not the end of Rose, but the end of the Rose who did what others told her to do. She would not let this terrible mistake of hers be in vain.
She had forgotten what it was like to want something, she had lost the energy to dream, and she was afraid she never would find her way back to being able to do that. But she was going to try. As hard as it was going to be to start over she had a brain and it was time to start using it. It was time to find out who she was, what she wanted, and what she was capable of.
"No more," she said again opening her hand and dropping the glass to the floor with splatters of her blood with it. She stared at the cut on her hand and smiled. "This is the last mark you're gonna leave on me, Jimmy Stone."
Rose and the Doctor both felt themselves starting to fall out of the memory. What needed to come out had been shown. The story was told. Now they would wake to deal with what they'd experienced.