Hello Everyone and thank you very much for all your lovely reviews. This update is just in time for my birthday - 4th June - so I'm not gonna read any reviews till then :) With any luck, I'll have lots of lovely feedback by then. Cheeky, I know.
Lately, I've had some difficulties writing the beginning of my stories for some reason. This chapter in particular has had to go through the three very, very different rewrites. I am quite happy with this latest one so I continued running with it and before I knew it, I'd written another 6k (9k in total) and still no Doctor-Rose love; so I'm afraid this chapter had to grow to a proud 14k to include some fluffy, sweet moments that didn't fit into my previous chapters.
Going forward, we're gonna have some time jumps as I'm not going to rewrite a single episode; there will be in-between bits or after/before bits I'll put in here and there, but no rewriting of entire episodes (too much work, too little fun).
Anyway, hope you all have lots of fun with the next chapter and I would love feedback from every single one of you! For the moment, I dedicate this to the reviewers from my last chapter:
Painted Orchid
paradiso31
J
cecilehem
Kylaia78
madagascarpingu
MuppetKatie
Guest
He'd seen it before, had watched and stood by as Rose had changed herself; he'd been there when she had decided to leave Jimmy, he'd been there when she'd slowly rediscovered herself, found her confidence again just as she'd been by his side when his parents died, had held him when his grandmother passed away in the hospital; him and Rose. He'd thought they'd be forever.
He had known Rose since she was a baby, thought he'd seen all her faces, could read her without words... except that he'd been cowering on the ground, unsure what to do when his then-girlfriend had grabbed a chain and swung over the pit to save a man they'd just met. He'd never before seen that fierce look of determination, that sparkle in her eyes when she'd teased the Doctor - the old one - about being useless without her.
Rose had changed again; she always seemed to constantly evolve. Except that when she was young she'd changed for her mother and then, as she grew older, she'd changed herself for Jimmy. He suspected that even with him she'd never truly been herself - certainly never the way he saw her with him - the Doctor. This time though Rose hadn't changed herself for the Doctor or the Tardis or even this lifestyle. No... Rose had changed and become everything she wanted to be. This new Rose didn't hold back, didn't stand aside and wait for others to rescue her, wouldn't be intimated by higher society or alien life forms.
He'd seen it, of course he had, but he hadn't understood - at least, not until he had spent that week with Sarah Jane. He'd mocked the Doctor back then, about the missus and the ex meeting, but he hadn't understood that for all his human behaviours, the Doctor was very much an alien. Sarah Jane had told him about her adventures in a way that Rose never had - the dangers, the excitement, the uncertainty ... The Doctor had been right a long time ago with the Slitheen. It wasn't fun or smart. It was making a judgement call when no one else would. When there was no one else and it was just the Doctor with the lives of billions of people, entire civilisations and planets resting on him making the right or wrong choice.
Rose had protected her mum from the reality of her life by telling them about the fun aspects of cultural misunderstandings, had shared with them her amazed wonder at the worlds and aliens she'd encountered. Jack had certainly not helped with his stories of being naked and running. But he suspected Rose had been in a situation like this more often than not - fighting clockwork droids to the best of her ability, holding them off, hoping that this time the Doctor would rescue her in the nick of time.
And he had, he always had - Sarah Jane had told him as much. Even if you sometimes had to risk your life, the Doctor would rather give his own life before he'd let anyone be killed. It was frightening to see that same unquestioning belief Rose had in the man in someone who had been all but abandoned by the Doctor decades beforehand.
But Sarah Jane had faith in him, would still and always, if he'd ever ask - she'd entrust her life to him. Though of course she would question and challenge him, when push came to shove, she'd follow him to the ends of the Universe. Just as Rose would. Because, in the end, this man who had given up and lost everything and everyone close to him, was the only one still standing up, time and again, to save everyone. And no one was there for him.
K-9 more so than Sarah Jane, had explained the realities of time travel to him, had explained the reasoning behind the Doctor's rescue of Madame Pompadour. And he understood, really, he did, why he'd done what he had. What he didn't understand was why he'd not told them how to get home first, why he hadn't programmed his ship.
He'd left them there to die and that was something Mickey just couldn't forgive.
And then Rose had come and done... whatever it was she had done. Even Sarah Jane didn't know. K-9 had given them several possibilities, but had also indicated that she shouldn't have survived any of those.
Yet here she was. Rose, his ex-girlfriend and best friend throughout childhood, the girl he loved. Her entire body seemed to thrum with some sort of power, barely contained and escaping through her eyes, which were glowing a bright gold while she was commandeering the Tardis somehow - even talking to her mentally. And he didn't recognise her - there was no upward twitch to her lips, no warm touch or soft look, no emotions shown where it used to radiate from her. The woman in front of him looked more like a goddess than a human being. Unemotional, cold and ... distant. So close and yet so far, unable to touch, not daring to reach out for her to this golden, glowing female, half afraid he'd be burnt just being near her and half thinking she'd disappear if he dared to touch her.
Up until now he'd been forced to accept the Doctor was good for her, saved her when he hadn't been able to, had helped Rose find herself in a way that he couldn't. Except now she was doing this... this thing and there was a hesitancy to her movements around him, a quiver in her hugs, a sadness in her eyes that he had never wanted to see, not in Rose.
Suddenly he saw her stumble, golden glow receding and he unwittingly stepped forward to help her regain her balance. Bemused Mickey watched as her mouth opened as if to say something but then the golden light came back, brighter than before, suffusing her entire being and he watched, horrified, as her lips parted to let out a scream but no voice ever left her.
Before he knew what he was doing, he'd rushed forward just barely catching her when the golden glow disappeared and her body fell to the ground. Grunting slightly with the effort of stabilising them both in semi-upright position, Mickey looked around himself. The Doctor's voice was closer than ever and he didn't know why but he knew that Rose didn't want the Doctor to know.
And however angry he might be with her and the Doctor just now, he wouldn't betray her confidence like that. Not now, not ever. He almost sighed in frustration, unsure what to do, when he suddenly saw the new door only a few feet away - the door made of rosewood with a golden rose engraved in it. Snorting slightly at the unsubtle hints, he heaved his best friend over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and made his way to what he presumed was Rose's room.
For now, it was far more important that Rose would survive this - then he swore to himself, he'd get his answers. Because he was no one's tin dog anymore. He refused to be.
What was he meant to do now? At a loss, Mickey found himself staring at the blonde, cataloguing the differences as he'd taken to doing every time she returned from the Doctor.
The weight loss was staggering - especially now that he'd spent a few days at Sarah Jane's. He'd known she was losing weight - he wasn't blind. But it was only now that he could truly see the difference between who she used to be and the Rose lying on the bed in front of him.
Back then, when the Doctor had left, he hadn't understood. He didn't know when she'd become quite so good at covering up, at pretending, at being someone she wasn't... but even he'd believed her. Even at the most basic level, it simply hadn't occurred to him they might run out of food. The ship always seemed to have what they needed, so he hadn't thought about it.
And he hadn't been able to understand her unfaltering faith in the Doctor back then, before he'd talked to Sarah Jane; even after he'd left them on the spaceship, abandoned them to their own fate, she defended him, kept on defending him and refused to blame him. It had infuriated him then and he'd accused her of the worst thing he could; he'd accused her of the Doctor being her 'new' Jimmy Stone... his ears had still been ringing three days later and he suspected that rather that Rose had surpassed her mother even with the sheer force behind it.
"He had to go!"
"Oh," Mickey's voice was biting. Being stuck in space on a thrice-damned empty ship hadn't helped his temper - nor his jealousy. Rose had been his girlfriend and he'd never have left her behind like this, abandoned her the moment another pretty bird looked his way. It grated on him that despite all the evidence, she seemed to keep on forgiving the Doctor no matter what. "'course he did. Just like Jimmy, eh? You saw it with your own eyes, Rose, and yet here you are, denying it. Again. What's it take? Does the Madame need to spread her legs over the console for him before you realise he's-"
He swallowed the rest of the sentence when her hand made contact with his cheek and he felt his face explode with pain. He should've expected it, really, but somehow he hadn't thought it would be quite this painful.
"Listen to me, Micks, and listen good. Cause I've had it. For months now you've kept accusing the Doctor, kept blaming and yeah, a quick trip home beforehand would've been nice, but there was no time."
"Bull. He could've used the Tardis to-"
Rose, glaring viciously enough to silence him again, stepped closer.
"No, Micks, you don't understand. He would never - never ever - leave us behind, not you and not me. You don't know what he's been through, what he... what he had to do. If he had any other way, any way at all, he would've done it, trust me."
The same unwavering faith she'd once displayed in the previous Doctor, the same faith she had once had in her mum, the sheer unfaltering trust from her that made you feel like you could move mountains if she asked you to, was written all over her face and it only furthered his anger; She had never looked at him like that. Not when he'd stood up for her in front of Jimmy and not when he'd killed clockwork robots to save her.
"See, I've been there. With him," he frowned, confused, but Rose continued, her countenance dropping as the anger fell away from her.
"Not France, 'course, but I asked him... time machine... how could I not? See, remember how mum always said there was a blonde woman there when dad died? But I still remember mum talking, telling me about dad dying alone in the street, no one there to hold him, to talk to him... except all you remember now is someone being there. Don't you see? We went back, the Doctor and me, and I saved him. And it killed him - not my dad, but the Doctor. And not just him... See, saving my dad even though he should've died... reapers came in. They were tearing reality apart, eating people - and I caused that. So yeah, I trust him, cause no matter what, no matter what I've done, he's never let me down. He's always been there for me, Mick, even when I nearly managed to kill the future we knew, he was there."
Mickey found his anger draining at the sight of the unshed tears in her eyes. He wanted to challenge, wanted to ask her what about him, about when he'd picked her up and helped her after Jimmy Stone had left her, beaten and bruised, what about when she'd been cornered by some of the local guys down at the bar and he'd jumped in... he'd always stood by her, and yet it seemed he couldn't match the Doctor, even now. Not in her eyes, at least, even if hers had been the only ones who had ever counted.
"He stood by me then, tried to help me save my dad even though he knew - knew! - there was no way. And he died for me, died to spare me having to watch my dad die again. And that was just my dad. For all his ideas, he didn't really change the world. But, see, Madame de Pompadour did. She wasn't just some courtesan, she influenced the king, initiated movements and thoughts far ahead of her time. If she died, then you and me - we'd never even be born. And so he did the only thing he could to save you an' me. He went to the past. Y'know the Doctor, hates domestics... and yet he's stuck there now, for us. I mean, can you imagine him havin' a job in the 18th Century? 'S like his worst nightmare."
He wanted to stop her, wanted to tell her he understood - even though he didn't really - because he really didn't want to hear more about how he'd never measure up. But this was Rose - his best friend since childhood... and in the last two months she hadn't once shown him her frustration, her anger, her fear. This was the first time she'd opened up to him, even in anger, so he kept quiet, hoping that maybe he could help her - even if it was just by listening to her as she spilled her heart about the Doctor.
A muted gasp from the bed drew him from his reverie. Eyebrows scrunched, forehead covered in sweat, Rose's body arched up before she collapsed back down into the mattress, lines of pain written in her face.
Her fever hadn't abated at all in the last two hours and her pained moans and the shivers shaking her body tore at him. He didn't know what to do. His best friend was in pain and there was nothing he could do to help her.
"Micks," Rose's voice, even with the current rough note to it, was easy to recognise. Relief flooded him. Until he'd been with Sarah Jane, he hadn't quite appreciated just how much he had come to rely on both Tyler women in his life.
"Rose!" he tightened his grip around her hand gently, smiling warmly at the blonde though that faltered quickly. Rather than looking better, as he had falsely expected since she was awake, she looked even paler. If anything, she looked worse than moments before.
"Look, Micks, 'm gonna be fine. Just lemme get some rest, yeah?"
Before he could even tell her that there was no way he was going to leave her alone - and that no, she did not look like she was going to be fine - the ship seemed to come alive and emit a hum that almost sounded... reprimanding? Agape, he stared around him - yes, technically, he knew the ship was alive. It had even provided him with a door when he'd really needed to escape with Rose from the console room, but he'd never been presented with such clear almost human-like quality in his interactions with the ship.
Fascinated, he watched as Rose's brows drew into a frown and face took on a very familiar stubborn expression. Instead of speaking aloud, though, she seemed to argue mentally with the ship. Moments later the creases in her face disappeared as she seemed to resign and concede to the ship's opinion on... well, whatever they had been talking about.
For a moment he'd really thought that yeah, she might actually be fine but when she turned back to him he finally noticed the other signs; her hands were clenched around the duvet and despite the increased blood flow they were pale white and shaking, her shoulders were tense and she was hunched over. Her chin was tilted upwards, stubbornly fighting to hide any signs of the pain, but her eyes shone brightly with it, covered in a haze and he could see her frequently losing focus, eyes drifting, when she fought to stay upright.
"'m sorry, Micks. Gonna need your help now. I promise, I'll tell you later, but for now," here her teeth clenched abruptly and he could see a tremor passing through her body. Helplessly, he stepped forward, intent on doing something - anything - to help her but it had already passed. Rose hissed as she slowly relaxed her muscles, the pain evident in her every movement now.
"'m gonna be unconscious. Was a bit stupid of me to rush this... And I'll have fever and be in a lot of pain. Room's soundproof. But I need you to make sure the Doctor doesn't see me."
His hands clenched almost automatically - not, as Rose obviously thought, in anger at the Doctor, but rather in anger at her; he would've gladly stayed had she asked him to help her, to stay with her, make sure she didn't hurt herself - but instead she'd asked for him to hide her from the Doctor. For once, he wished she'd put herself first.
"Please, Micks... he can't- please-"
He cut her off before she could go any further. The day he was able to say no to her was still far off into the future, if ever - especially since she'd rarely asked for anything, having learnt early on that her mum had precious little money
"Course. I won't let him see you... not until you're ready. I promise."
The relief was written sharply across her face and for the first time since they were reunited, he saw her usual warm smile cross her face. Then, without warning, her body arched up, her eyes ripped open and a scream unlike any he'd ever heard from her before came out, cutting off halfway when her voice faltered.
Mickey's hands shook. By god, he wished she was unconscious again. Anything - anything but to hear her scream like that and be unable to do anything but stand there; stand here and watch as the pain consumed her. It was only when her hands lashed out and she hit the corner of the bedside table, a bruise rapidly forming, that he finally realised what he could do to help.
Jaw set, he set about finding anything in the room he could use to tie her down and stop her from inflicting further damage to herself.
This was not what he'd thought his return would be like. Lots of hugs, quite a bit of shouting and arguments and then dinner together to make up... he'd thought that if she was alive, if she was able to call him, then everything was fine. A bit naive, maybe, but it hadn't occurred to him there would be lasting damage. Not even when she'd told him she'd changed.
After all, this was Rose, his Rose.
When he was finally sure that the ties would hold her without cutting off the circulation, he sat back down next to her, using a wet towel to wipe down her face. Her body seemed to have collapsed into itself mid-way through another episode that left her body shaking with the pain. He suspected she was unconscious and hoped that it meant she was finally unaware of the pain obviously ravaging her body.
He couldn't help but wonder now, retrospectively, if this was what she'd gone through that day too - the day she'd left him with Sarah Jane. She'd broken her promise to him, but if this was what she'd suffered for it, he couldn't find it in his heart to feel any more anger towards her.
Softly at first, he found himself talking to her unmoving body - not because he expected her to hear him but more because he needed to say it and because he needed to fill the silence with something - anything - that would stop her screaming voice echoing in his ears, anything that would fill the dreadful silence that would otherwise only leave him to contemplate all the horror she must have suffered through on her own.
"Still don't know what it was you did there. That golden light... tell you what, never been so scared in my life - not even tied to that table with the robots or up on the spaceship for two months with no way home... Seeing you, bleeding, glowing golden - I was in awe and terrified at the same time. Never seen anythin' like it - well, s'pose that's a given. Still, being left with Sarah Jane, unable to contact you, not knowing if you were alive... And your letter," snorting lightly, no trace of humour in his eyes, he looked down at his best friend, her body writhing even when her facial features remained lax - unconscious.
"Your letter only scared me worse. Why'd you do it, if you knew you'd die? Why? I mean, we could've waited together... and that's another thing. How long were you here? Alone... I know you... You're gonna tell me it's just been a couple of days but despite what you think, I'm no tin dog. I know you. That's not been a few days or even a fortnight. You were alone here for months... Months... You, who can't stand to be two hours without some human interaction..."
Rubbing his eyes, attempting to stop the tears that had been trying to come forth since her phone call earlier. She was alive. Rose was alive. Not well, not even remotely good, but she was alive. And that was more than he'd expected after what he'd seen.
The loud knocking on the door and the rattling of the door handle rather abruptly put an end to his momentary weakness.
"ROSE!"
The Doctor's panicked voice was unmistakeable even after all these months. Standing up, Mickey put the cloth on the bedside table, trying to gather his resolve. For all his grandstanding, he knew very well that the Doctor cared about Rose - oh, he cared. He might try to hide it but it was easy to see when you had the two of them around you. His eyes were always on her, always making sure that she was alright.
And now he'd have to lie to him. His hand tenderly caressed her clammy forehead, the stark contrast of temperature only serving to emphasise her failing health to him. There was Rose, lying tied up, in pain, scratches on her upper arm, bruise on her wrist, clothes clinging to her body from the sweat of the fever and exertion, and he'd be standing in front of the Doctor and tell him she was alright when she was the furthest from it he'd ever seen.
Sighing slightly, he stepped away from the bed and up to the door behind which he could already hear the whirring noise of the Sonic Screwdriver.
He frowned. This evening was becoming odder by the minute. He'd have to take a closer look at his ship later; first he'd found a room for Madame de Pompadour next to his where Rose's used to be. And with a connecting door! Rose was the only one who had ever had the privilege and the only one he'd ever trusted enough to have a permanent open door between their two bedrooms. And on top of that, her room had seemingly disappeared!
He'd not thought much of it, at the time, thinking maybe the Tardis had momentarily moved Rose's room to the library - the old girl really outdid herself when it came to accommodating the blonde's every whim; from new colours in the kitchen to long-hidden rooms reappearing. The Tardis really did her best to please Rose and answer her every wish, whether it was actually spoken out loud or merely thought. It would've been funny, except whenever he did anything the ship deemed 'not right', his bathroom would suddenly turn pink or his bed turn into a slide, which was a lot less fun than it sounded when you tried to get some sleep.
And, he'd thought, maybe the ship missed him and had tried to help by putting Madame the Pompadour's room there - except, of course, that was ridiculous as the Tardis would've known the Madame would never be able to set foot in her.
But he'd dismissed it then, too tired of being the recipient of yet another reminder of Rose's comparatively short lifespan - as if he didn't already know that all too well himself -, too tired of having broken yet another promise, of having to watch yet another human he'd cared for, wither away in front of him and die. He'd seen it too often, watched far too frequently when the people he loved were taken from him, one by one. Yet he never seemed to quite be able to help himself, never able to stop himself from getting attached to the people he met on his travels. This one had been yet another one in a long list of mistakes he'd made, promising too much to a woman he'd known was bound for death too soon at too young an age, even for her time period. All he had wanted was to go to bed and forget, just for a moment, that his latest companions, too, would leave him in the blink of an eye for his species; that if death or age didn't claim them first, they would always leave.
It was the movement, the jolting - and the irritatingly smooth landing - that first alerted him to anything awry; and that, too, was wrong. There should've been something from the Tardis, something to let him know she wasn't alright or that others were aboard; but she remained frustratingly silent to all his efforts to talk to her.
He didn't know what it was, but the Tardis couldn't fly herself - or land herself. Now, theoretically speaking, they could've been pulled in by a tractor beam or similar, except she'd somehow gone right back into the time vortex and that - that was impossible. Not just improbable, but actually impossible without being on board.
So that left him with the assumption that someone else was on board and had commandeered his ship - though how, he wasn't sure. He wasn't kidding when he said it took six people to fly her and it definitely took a couple of decades of learning to know how to navigate such a complicated ship; especially without being able to see time the way Time Lords were able to. It wasn't a linear movement and required a lot of knowledge about time and the vortex that very, very few species aside from Time Lords had. So - impossible.
And then he or she had actually managed to get the Tardis, his own ship, to change routes and hallways and even make the shortcuts inaccessible. It should be impossible - and he was really starting to dislike that word tonight. When he had finally managed to reach the console room there had been no one and he'd ignored the Tardis' reassurances - because how could it all be the way it should be? So of course his first instinct had been to scan the ship, to check, except he'd suddenly thought that if the intruder wasn't here - then maybe he'd escaped and found Rose? Jeopardy-friendliest of all his companions; and that was saying something! Or maybe Mickey?
So he'd run off once again, after making sure to seal of the console room despite his ship's loud complaints. She had, in turn, made her frustration with him quite well known, by turning the hallway's fluorescent. If someone had indeed tampered with her, they had certainly left her personality and her ability to rearrange things to her own wishes, intact. Directing a rather impolite comment in Gallifreyan at his ship, he did his best to ignore the colours and ran down corridor after corridor in a vain attempt to locate Rose's room's new location.
After having run up and down several staircases, having fallen down several slides - courtesy of the Tardis replacing the steps half-way through - he finally had enough.
"Blimey! Listen, I'm as concerned about her as you are and this could be serious! Rose's life is in danger! So, the time for games is over. SHOW! ME! ROSE'S! ROOM!"
The Tardis seemed to realise that he was well and truly prepared to fight her on this, consequences be damned, as she sent a mental apology and he easily found his way to her room with his ship now working alongside him. Upon realising just where he was - five levels down from his room - he gave his ship a mental prod, asking her to relocate it to its usual place; next to his room - and got the most curious response.
His ship told him in no uncertain terms that this was where Rose wanted to be and that she wouldn't move the room, not even for him, unless Rose requested it. Frowning to himself at that new information - not to mention that he had no idea what to make of that statement; why would his companion suddenly want this distance between them? - he silently approached her door, intending to throw the door open and surprise whoever was in there.
Except the door was locked.
Rose never locked her door - well, almost never. To be fair, Adam had been surprisingly successful in making both of them want to throw him out into the vortex but the blonde had argued that no, scientific curiousity was not good enough a reason (he still wasn't quite so sure about that).
Now truly worried, he hammered on the door, trying to listen for any noises that would indicate Rose was in distress, but only silence greeted him; instead of quietening his anxieties it only served to amplify them.
He thought he'd been prepared for everything - even the worst case scenario; this one had never been among them, though he now thought it probably should have been. When the door opened it wasn't Rose that greeted him, nor her captor - well, at least he didn't think the boy was her captor.
It was Mickey. Rose's ex... who had just come out of her bedroom... that Rose had asked to relocate away from him. Now, he wasn't au fait with all of human's customs and had frequently been accused of being a bit daft when it came to the more emotional side of things, but this - this was pretty clear, wasn't it?
"What are you doing here?"
Okay, well, he hadn't meant to sound quite so incredulous - well, okay, maybe he had - but the smirk on the boy's face just served to heighten his anger.
"Nah, question is - what do you think I'm doing here?"
Growling slightly, both in jealousy and frustration - he still hadn't seen Rose, could almost feel a physical itch that would only be soothed by touching her, reassuring himself of her continued wellbeing - he stepped into Mickey's personal space and for the first time in a long time he could feel the anger, the cold rage, the part of him that people had called the 'Oncoming Storm' come to the surface.
Why was everyone intent on playing games with him tonight? He needed to know that Rose was alright and he'd force his way past both Mickey and the Tardis if he had to. Luckily, Mickey had more sense than he'd thought as the boy nodded curtly.
"Rose got a bit of a flu and I'm just makin' sure she's alright."
He frowned, still trying in vain to look past the boy and through the door to ascertain Rose's condition.
"You do realise that I'm a Doctor in more than just name. If you'll let me in, I can help her and get her back up in a jiffy," then, directed towards the room behind Mickey, "call your guard dog off, Rose, it's just me."
Something wasn't right - really not right. And he still didn't know what had caused that with the Tardis. He was itching to find out but at the same time he needed to make sure Rose was alright.
"God, you really are an alien sometimes. She just needs some sleep and rest - I'm just here to make sure she's okay."
"I can do that - done that loads of times, actually. She is awfully jeopardy-friendly, Rose is. A thousand years of time and space and I've never met someone quite as capable of finding danger around every corner... Well, when I say I've never met, I did kind of meet myself, but since I'd never go travelling with myself - Rassilon, can you imagine the arguments? - I wouldn't count myself. By now I can actually tell you where she is in her sleep pattern just by glancing at her. Actually, I think I've slept more in her bed than my own!"
Now, there were moments, every now and then, when his mouth may or may not run away from him and he may or may not blurt out things that could... well, be taken a different way. And by Rassilon, he had never been happier that Jackie wasn't nearby. The slap he'd have gotten for those words would've probably been enough to regenerate him - and what an embarrassing way that was to go.
Mickey was staring at him now, open-mouthed, and he could actually feel himself blushing. And he'd thought he was too old to blush at this stage. Certainly not for something so innocuous and seemingly innocent - no, definitely innocent, no seemingly about it - as this.
"Oh, well done, Mickey. I don't even need to ask to know what you're thinking. One track mind. You forget I'm a Time Lord, I'm-"
He was rudely interrupted by a snort of suppressed laughter from Rose's ex. He was really starting to rethink taking the boy along now.
"Sorry, sorry, carry on. You were gonna say about how you're so different from the rest of us mortals, aye? 'Bout how you don't think like normal blokes - 'specially not about her. Well, 'm afraid I don't think that's gonna fly. Saw you hop off with Madame like a lovesick puppy, after all."
Well, this was unsual; Jealous Mickey, angry, surprised - he'd seen all those. But derisive? Hurt? He'd never seen him lash out like this without a reason. And he couldn't - oh... maybe?
"Look, Mickey, if you wanna go you're free to leave any time. If you want to come with us, you're going to have to appreciate there are bigger things at stake here than leaving you alone for a couple of hours. Now, I can promise I won't leave you for more than a couple of days, at most. I'll always come back for both of you and I will do the best I can to get both of you home safe and sound."
If anything, Mickey only looked angrier.
"Look, Doc, Rose said she doesn't want you to see her like this and as far as I'm concerned, that's enough. You're not getting in."
Eyebrows raised, feeling his own fury rise at this puny boy try and deny him entrance to one of the rooms on his ship - and, most importantly, the room Rose was in, he stepped into his personal space.
"You wanna stop me from getting into a room on my own ship?"
He could see the smirk on Mickey's face in response to his question, but it made no sense.
"Nah, not me."
And before he could stop him, Mickey had slipped back into the room and closed the door. Normally that wouldn't have fazed him - his sonic screwdriver was on him at all times, after all - but the door had melted into the wall and there was nothing to open.
"Oh, c'mmon!" incredulous and disbelieving, he mentally reached out almost instinctively for the strong presence in the back of his mind that signified his connection to the ship. At any other time he would've been amused to realise the Tardis was giving him the equivalent of the cold shoulder at his outraged demand he open the doors for him; this was his ship after all... except that, obviously, his time ship disagreed.
After another half an hour spent arguing with the ship, he finally gave in. His sonic hadn't made a difference and even his attempt to rewire her so he had access to the room again, was made more difficult by his ship's resistance - and her version of electroshock therapy if he went anywhere near her cables.
With a frustrated growl he trudged off to the library, glad that at least the Tardis was now cooperating that much and made the journey easier for him rather than sending him down a few dead-end corridors.
Gratefully, he sank down in what he'd claimed as his chair in the library. Unwillingly, his eyes drifted over to the long (and extremely comfortable) couch - the one he used to share with Rose.
It always took some time to work out all the quirks of the new 'him' after regeneration and he hadn't even paused to consider it before but this version was far more tactile. He had noticed, of course he had, as the urge to touch and taste everything around him was nigh impossible to suppress; he'd even been the first to taste-test Jackie's own brand of cranberry sauce with Christmas dinner. But he'd never thought about in relation to her, about the changes it would bring to their relationship.
After Cassandra's possession, Rose had been nervous about being alone - not that she'd ever said that, but when she'd sat at his side while he worked on the Tardis without a single complaint, he'd worked it out and, in a flash of brilliance, suggested a night spent at the library.
She'd agreed and after gathering the prerequisite snack food, they'd made their way to the library, almost automatically curling up with each other and if anything Rose had only fit better against him then before. Instead of watching a movie - as it might have strained her eyes and increased the migraine rather than easing it - he'd read Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet to her, one hand gently massaging her temples and holding the book with the other.
It wouldn't have been too unusual for what they normally did - except that every part of him was hyper-aware of every inch of skin contact they had, could tell the exact mix of hormones in her system and subconsciously was already cataloguing all the variations and changes her system underwent as he read. He could smell her and for the first time in his very, very long life he had the urge to taste a human - or, to be more precise, Rose. He wanted to kiss her, to fall asleep with her curled up around him, wanted her pressed against him just like this, wanted to explore that bare, delicious skin by her neck she kept showing him whenever she tilted her head.
So, inevitably, after that night - which had felt endless, and not for good reasons - he had been forced to plead with his ship for the seat he now had; fit for one person only. The Tardis had been against it and kept pushing him to continue using the couch but eventually she had, finally, done as he asked.
The problem was that it had been his decision in the end; he'd made the choice of being so far apart and he didn't want it, railed against it, wanted to hold her every second of every day. He could no more stop his hand searching out hers the moment she was at his side than he could stop breathing. Rose, his brilliant, fantastic Rose was already a naturally tactile person and had always been there when he'd needed her, when he'd needed her touch to ground him back when he was fresh from a decades-long war, when he felt he'd forgotten anything in the universe but screams, blood and tears.
She had been by his side when he'd nearly killed a defenceless Dalek and only stopped because it had been her asking, she'd been by his side when he turned manic after another night filled with dreams of smoke and ash, of hate and bitter victory when finally all the voices screaming in his head were silenced at once. And he'd been with her after they had met the werewolf, when she'd been insecure and bereft after the loss of her father, when she had been crying alone in her room for the death of a servant girl in Cardiff. He had seen her at her worst, just as she had seen him when he had thought he had nothing left to lose.
So why would she not allow him in now? Why was Mickety-Mick allowed in but not him? Was she actually sick? Had something happened that she hadn't told him about? She'd seemed fine earlier... hadn't she? He tried to remember but to his surprise realised he hadn't checked. But he always checked on her, on Rose. As soon as she was near him, his eyes were drawn to her, making sure she was alright... except he hadn't. And he'd run off, again, to save Reinette, without even a word of reassurance to her.
The Doctor sighed, leaning back in his chair. Well, that explained it at least. No wonder Rose was angry. She probably didn't want to say anything she'd regret later. Would him making her banana pancakes for a breakfast in bed be domestic enough to earn her forgiveness?
Grinning to himself at the idea of having banana pancakes with Rose, he wandered off to the kitchen. He hadn't had a chance to try his hand at pancakes yet in this regeneration; time to see if he was as good at them as he was in his ninth incarnation.
God, she wished it wasn't quite so familiar, waking up like this. Pain splitting her head, her muscles aching and her body screaming from new changes, feeling simultaneously hungry and as if she was going to throw up anything she'd eat, shivering with cold but flushed with heat.
Well, no time like the present. It's not like there was anyone to help her or bring her anything; times like this she really missed her mum - who was a veritable mother hen whenever she was ill - and the Doctor who was surprisingly fussy and caring, staying with her until she'd feel well enough to personally escort him outside the room.
Gritting her teeth in anticipation of the pain and nausea, she forced her body into compliance and sat up in one quick move, preferring the sharp burst of pain to the prolonged one. As expected, her breath came out in sharp gasps and her hands clenched into the duvet were the only thing stopping her from screaming; what was the point of it, after all, if there was no one there to hear you? Her eyes were shut tightly, attempting in vain to suppress the nausea and dizziness she was experiencing.
It took another few moments before she became aware of a voice near her. Blinking in surprise, Rose looked up and found herself face to face with Mickey; he was kneeling at her bedside and his hand was covering her own ones. Finally came the burst of memories and she remembered the Doctor was back - and so was Mickey. She'd brought him back so he could go... somewhere. She couldn't quite recall but Micks had to go to an alternate reality with them for some reason.
"Micks?" her voice took her aback for a moment, the coarse quality unexpected. Her ex had a glass of water for her before she could even think of it. Smiling warmly at the kind gesture, she reached out with a shaking hand. If possible, he only looked more concerned when the glass in her hand was shaking sufficiently to spill water over the edges, but she refused his attempts to help, preferring to have something - anything - under her own power. It felt like too much these days was outside of her control.
"How are you?"
His gaze was searching and she found herself cataloguing her body almost automatically. The funny thing about pain was that you forgot just how bad it was each time; your mind would just have a vague notion of 'really bad' and then try to get you not to do it again. Going roughly by memory of how she'd felt each time she woke up from falling unconscious though, she'd have to say that on a scale of 1-10, 10 being the worst, this ranked at eight.
She'd been through worse, much as she would like to not remember those times, but by the same token she'd managed to make this one particularly bad because she'd somehow, in a fit of what she could only call stupidity, thought that rushing it was the way to go. It really, really wasn't. Forcing all that power into her head and back out had not only made her less careful about the amount of power she was filtering through, it had also made her less cautious about how long she was holding onto it. Two things she'd learnt rather quickly to avoid just this, but somehow in her hurry she hadn't been able to keep track of everything. Hence, here she was, bedridden. Go, Rose, well done. You managed to scare the hell out of Mickey and the Doctor will be more than suspicious about my long absence. Great.
Lips quirked upwards slightly, she looked up at her ex-boyfriend.
"Not as bad as I could've been?"
Mickey snorted slightly.
"Right, so not dead then. Good to know."
Rose flinched slightly at the jab. Her letter had not been the kindest way to tell your childhood friend goodbye - or possibly goodbye. She knew she needed to explain, needed to tell him why, but her head was swimming and her vision kept blurring with the pain.
His sigh made her look up.
"We'll talk later. What do you need right now?"
The rush of love for Mickey was unexpected, but she hadn't expected him to wait, hadn't expected him to stay with her, hear her out and give her time. Her face must have expressed more than she thought, because Mickey's lips pressed a tender kiss to her forehead before he helped her get up and to the loo. Sometimes, she really did wish she could've felt for him what she felt for the Doctor. He'd always been there when she really needed him, always lending a hand when she needed one to pick herself back up.
Her system had finally finished flushing out the remnants of the vortex that had originally overwhelmed it. Sighing to herself, Rose ran the hair dryer through her hair once more, even though it was already dry; anything, really, to put off the confrontation with Mickey - who was, no doubt, waiting for her in her bedroom. Unfortunately, there was only so much time she could spend in here before Mickey, who was rather familiar with her morning routine, would be very aware of her delay tactic.
After one last glance in the mirror, she opened the door and stepped into her room, ready to face her ex.
"Finished wasting time, then?"
Rose cringed slightly. She should've known he'd know right away.
"Yeah... Get comfy, this is going to take a while."
Stop stalling, she internally reprimanded herself, watching as Mickey, looking at her intently, finally followed her plea and situated himself on one of the floor cushions.
"Probably should start off with saying I'm sorry... But 'm not."
Her ex remained quiet but his hands were clenched into fists and he definitely wasn't happy with her right now; but he was hearing her out, which was more than she had a right to expect at this point.
"See, it wasn't an easy decision to make, Micks, no matter what you think. But I had three months - and I could see what was gonna happen. If I hadn't done it, we would've run out of food. If I hadn't brought the Tardis back, the Doctor would've been on that ship for days on his own and imprisoned for nearly three months thereafter when they picked up on his emergency signal and thought he'd killed the crew. It would've taken him a few years before he'd have found a time agent to bring 'im back in time to us; he wouldn't have dared to go back sooner, in case his ship was dead by then. You'd have been back to being a mechanic, not wanting anything to do with the Doctor after it and Ma would've told me that if I went off with him again, I needn't ever go back to her until he and I had cut off all ties. ... I would've gone with him and mum would've died barely half a year later when the Daleks and Cybermen came. I could see it, Micks, knew what would happen. And yeah, I knew the chances of me surviving were slim to none and I also knew that no matter what, you would've stopped me. So I did the only thing I could..."
The images of the timeline that would now never come to pass, still made her shiver, the images to vivid to forget. Still, Mickey deserved to know; especially after fending off the Doctor for two days.
"Y'know that time where I went to save the Doctor? And I had to open the heart of the Tardis? Well, it changed me. Not much, mind. But it made me more... dunno, receptive, I guess. And, well, time is, the Doctor used to have an emergency protocol for all his companions, so if the Doctor died they could still get home. 'xcept the first time we met him, he's just come from a war... a war that his species was involved in and the Daleks. Meant he had to lock his Tardis so it would respond to only him and other Time Lords - that meant a sort of telepathic communication with the ship. Us humans, we can't... well, we can't initiate. Some of us can talk in our heads but we can't start a conversation or anything. Point is, he'd never gotten around to changing it, wanted to forget everything to do with the war, I s'pose."
Rose sighed, remembering her previous Doctor hesitantly confessing that if she was there with him, his nightmares weren't so bad. Shaking her head, she dismissed the memory, trying to focus so she could tell Micks the rest of the story.
"We had plenty of water and the old girl can last a long time if it's just her... but we needed all that heat and light, hot water, food, oven, fridge and so on. Meant she needed a boost if we wanted to live comfortably until the Doctor's back. And if it was gonna be longer, you'd need a ride home... I waited a fortnight. I tried everything I could think of, read everything I could find, but apparently he threw her user manual into a supernova," Rose snorted lightly. That action seemed very... well, very him.
"So only thing I could think of was to open up her heart. Couldn't understand her well back then but I did understand that it would hurt but I wouldn't die. I saw no other solution so I did it. Basically multiple sessions of looking into her heart were meant to prepare me, prepare my mind and body so I could get you home and us back for our survival. I... the things I've seen... I- When it's me and her together, I can see it, Micks. I can see the time vortex - all of time and space, all that was, is, never will be, could be, will be. All of reality at my fingertips. I- It's the most amazing feeling of the world..."
Rose smiled at Mickey but to her surprise, he didn't respond in kind, frowning slightly. Smile faltering, she looked down and continued.
"After that first time I understood, I knew what I was doing if I were to continue... but I did it anyway. There were only four possible pathways for him coming back, and he'd missed the six-hour-mark for his return already, so I knew it would be nearly six months before he'd come back. Well, sorta knew. Scrambled my head something fierce the first few times. I know I've got some gaps, lost some memories, but I don't know what, obviously. Nothing recent, some childhood and teenage ones. And it changed me, my body. 'S a lot of power and normal human body would burn... so I needed to change. 'M not a Time Lord or anything like it, really. I'm more Tardis than Time Lord. But I'm not human anymore. Can you imagine what Mum would say? But yeah, that's why I don't want them to know."
She watched as Mickey stood up, shaking his head.
"No, I don't get it."
Rose opened her mouth, ready to reiterate what she'd said previously, when he lifted his hand and stopped her.
"No, you've had your say, Rose. It's my turn now. Sarah Jane asked me to promise her to hear you out; I have. Now it's my turn."
Mutely, she looked up. She wasn't sure if she should be grateful that Sarah Jane had gotten him to listen or if she should feel offended.
He was standing by now, walking along the room in a manner that reminded her of a caged tiger - a very, very angry tiger.
"See, remember how upset you were when the Doctor left for the Madame? Remember how you felt when all you had was the shards of a mirror? Now, you told me the Doctor, he had no choice. All of reality at risk and all that. But what about you, Rose? You left me. You lied to me and then you made me leave you behind. I'm not a child anymore, I make my own decisions and if they're wrong, well that's on me - all on me. You don't get to make my decisions for me, you don't get to leave me behind without a word as if twenty years together aren't even worth a single word - a word of goodbye. And you left me with a letter! A letter, Rose! What the hell were you thinking? Is this-," the folded letter came out of his trouser pockets and he viciously threw it on the floor in front of her.
"Is this all I was worth to you? All our friendship summed up in a few lines of 'oh yeah, by the way, I'll probably die, but you go ahead and travel with the Doctor because, hey, I'm asking you to and you don't really need a real reason, do you?' Now that - that told me more than you could've ever said face to face. I waited up here with you - for three months I stood by your side-"
"By my side?", Rose cut him off with a cold look, standing up herself now. "Really? Is hiding away playing games and watching sports your idea of standing by my side? Because if you think what you saw over the last two days was the worst of it, let me tell you; it wasn't. I've been unconscious, shivering, in pain - screaming and begging - more often than not in the last five months and where were you? Huh?"
With gritted teeth, Mickey stepped forward, glaring at her.
"I was right there! Where were you? Why didn't you say anything? I would've helped, I would've done anything-"
Snorting lightly, Rose dismissed his comments.
"Anything, is that right? I came to you, about a fortnight in, the very first time I'd joined with the Tardis, just woken up, shivering, in pain and was about to tell you, ask for your help; you know what you said?"
Looking up at her taller ex-boyfriend, she felt sick satisfaction curl in her stomach at his reaction to her words. Alone, for nearly six months with no one - no one - there for her except for the Tardis.
"That's right. You told me that I could go right back to crying about the Doctor and didn't need to bother you 'bout it."
So spiteful... was that really her? She wasn't normally such a, well, vindictive person. This wasn't all on him, after all. He had kept his promise to her, looked after her and not told the Doctor a word. He hadn't left her, had cared for her when she was unconscious. Guiltily, the anger and fight having left her, she looked up at the man who used to be her best friend, whom she'd dated, whom she'd shared most of her life with in some form or another.
"But I didn't know! If you'd just told me-"
Mickey stopped abruptly when her whole demeanour changed. With a sigh, Rose sank back onto the bed, drained of her energy, mustering a meek smile for him.
"Yeah... yeah, maybe I should've. 'm sorry, Micks. Didn't mean to fight. I'm just so... so tired. It's... it's been so much. And I can't- I'm really sorry, so sorry, but I can't anymore. 's all too much. I can see it now, you know. I can see your timelines - sorta shiny light in faint lines around you and that whisper of gold from travelling through the vortex. 's beautiful... But Mickey, I know - I know when you're gonna die, can see all the possibilities, all the potential timelines wrapping around you, changing with every step, every choice. 's so beautiful, amazing and wonderful... and frightening, horrifying... it scares me."
Against her will, tears flooded her eyes and her hand automatically covered her mouth, muffling a sob.
"It scares me to death, Micks. What do I do? What 'm I s'posed to do now? Where do I go from here? How am I meant to keep this from him?"
The tension drained from his shoulders too and she could see the sympathy in his eyes as he gathered her against him. She wanted to let go, wanted to cry and have someone tell her it was gonna be alright... but the tears wouldn't come anymore and her throat remained tight, refusing to give way to the cry rising within her chest.
Mickey wasn't the one; he couldn't help her, couldn't advise her, she knew that. He had a lot of growing up still to do before he'd become the rock she could rely on to have her back at all times and before he'd know what it was she was truly talking about.
Pulling out of his arms, she gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.
"You're right. You did deserve more. And I'm so, so sorry for not giving you that. I can't tell you much 'cause you should make your own decisions without me giving stuff away. Anyway, soon we're gonna be pulled into a different universe and all the life in that world - me and the Doctor included - depend on you being there. See, Micks, you're gonna be so impressive!" She gave him a tongue-touched grin, amused to watch him blush slightly before gently shoving her shoulder.
"Shut up."
But he was smiling and just like that, everything was forgiven; not forgotten and she knew it would come to a head again, sometime in the future, but for now, they were back to being good friends.
Laughing, she shooed him out of her room, telling him to get some sleep and then went back into the bedroom, freshening up so the Doctor wouldn't immediately know she'd just cried.
As always, he could tell the moment she stepped into the room. There was that unique Rose-like natural smell and of course the slight scent of her perfume mixed with the shampoo he'd gotten her that smelled like New New York's apple grass. He breathed in, allowing himself a moment to commit that scent to memory, having missed it even during his brief stint back in Paris. He quickly pushed the thought of what he'd do when she wasn't there anymore away, before it could really grow.
"Rose!"
Using his arms, he swiftly pushed himself up and outside of the Tardis' central core, jumping to his feet and standing beside her in one quick movement.
"There you are!"
Before even he knew what he'd done, he had pulled her towards him and hugged her. With the beautiful blonde now safely ensconced in his arms and her face buried in his neck it took him a moment before he could bring himself to let go of her. The only real reason he let go was the salty smell he'd suddenly become aware of; a smell he was only too familiar with. Rose had cried. His Rose had been alone in her room or, possibly worse, in Mickey's arms, crying. A part of him wanted to pull her closer, gather her to him and hold her until he was sure that she was here, with him, and, more importantly, happy again.
"You alright?"
His voice had a rough note to it that he could see drew her attention and he allowed all the concern he felt for her to show, trying to prove to her that he was worried, that he'd help, that he hadn't meant to leave her behind.
"Yeah, course I'm alright, Doctor. I'm always alright."
He held her there for a moment, both his hands on her upper arms, holding her at arm's length as he scanned her. She looked thinner, he thought, but that might just be the clothing. More than that, though, it was her eyes that had him pausing. They were darker, sadder than he was used to seeing. It was just like her to pick up on his use of those words to fend off any unwanted queries when he really wasn't. But maybe now wasn't the time to point this out to her.
He was good at this, after all, deflecting, pretending it wasn't as bad as it really was. And if that's what Rose wanted right now, then of course he'd give her that. Smiling widely, whipping ever so slightly on his feet, feeling the urge to run - run with Rose's hand in his until nothing else mattered, he silenced the need and instead infected his voice with just the right amount of enthusiasm for his plan; which, admittedly, wasn't hard to do.
"So... Banana pancakes! I was gonna make you banana pancakes! So, back off to bed with you - it's got to be pancakes in bed!"
He found himself responding to her giggle with a smile almost automatically, her enthusiasm and laughter as infectious as always.
"'m okay, Doctor. Aren't you the one always complaining about us sleeping our lives away? Got a few hours to go, yet, before 'm gonna go back to bed. 'sides, isn't that just a little domestic?"
Before he could stop himself, he flinched a little at that word, prompting more delighted laughter from the blonde.
"Thought it was up on that scale of transgression...," at her confused look, he found himself elaborating, using his hands to indicate his measurement system. "calling Mickey, Rickey - cup of tea; avoiding your mum - making you breakfast or dinner - or taking you out for dinner and, well, ignoring you and not checking you're alright - food, made by me, in bed with flowers and a box of chocolates from the best chocolatier in Paris - the planet, not the city of course."
When Rose just kept staring at him, mutely, he quickly dashed over to his coat, reaching deeply into the pockets and pulling out several other broken thingamajigs - he really needed to get around to emptying his pockets at some point - before reaching the wanted chocolates. Running back, he quickly presented her with the chocolates. Surely this would improve her disposition towards him, right?
Blonde hair obstructing his view of her face, he could only see her hunched over form, hand covering her mouth and shoulders shaking.
Rassilon, no, he hated seeing her cry. And he'd really not meant to make her cry. It honestly had been intended as a nice gesture. Had he really miscalculated that badly? The chocolatier had assured him that his lady would be very appreciative of the chocolates. That liar! He should go back, once Rose was happy and snuggled up on the couch or in bed, asleep and show him just what he'd get for making Rose cry!
"I'm sorry, Rose, I thought-"
Just then the hand in front of her mouth fell and her head tilted upwards, peals of laughter escaping her and eyes dancing in mischievous delight. He gaped.
"Let me- Let me get this straight."
Still laughing, Rose wiped at her eyes, trying to suppress the giggles attempting to burst forth.
"You- All these times you took me out to planets and dinners; that was you avoiding me mum!" snorting, holding her stomach, Rose bent over in renewed laughter.
"Slitheens, Daleks, gasmask-wearing human - nothing makes you run 'cept my mum! Ooh, I gotta tell her that! She'd love that."
Pouting at the realisation that obviously Rose had already forgiven him - of course she would, she wasn't one to carry a grudge. He should've known better and he'd really not needed to go to all that trouble or get the chocolates for her.
"I bet she would," he commented, grumbling slightly, about to shove the package in his hands - it even had a bow on it! - down the side of the grating, never to be seen again. Just then his companion grabbed the chocolates out of his hands and pressed a warm kiss to his cheek.
"Thank you, though, Doctor. Means a lot that you'd go through all that for me."
Suppressing a blush - Time Lords don't blush! - he turned away and point towards the library.
"Mr. Mickety-Mick's apparently off for some sleep. You humans don't half-lose your life to sleep; how do you do it? Anyway, got some time. Tardis is all fixed... Well, I say all fixed; with such a complicated and frankly marvellous time machine there's always something to do, but I reckon you and me haven't had much time together. So, accompany me to the library, Lady Tyler?"
"It'd be my pleasure, Sir Doctor."
Grinning stupidly at each other, he relished in the feeling of her warm, soft hand in his elbow. He would have never thought he'd say this, but he missed these times, the ability to share with her what he'd shared with no one before. Paris had been surprisingly lonely.
"Oh, I'm gonna kill him!"
The normally warm voice echoed down the corridor and the heavy, angry footfalls made her current temper very clear if the words hadn't already done so. Bemused, the Doctor looked up from the book he was reading only to find the door to his private bedroom flying open and Rose stomping in, door shutting behind her with a loud noise that made him momentarily flinch. Before he knew it, his companion had jumped backwards onto his bed, lying spread-eagle and glaring at the ceiling.
"So," shutting his book, knowing he was unlikely to be able to get back to reading any time soon, he turned all his attention to the woman on his bed, "what's the ceiling ever done to you?"
Her glare only had him raising an eyebrow in amusement which made her huff in response.
"He's a pig, that's what. Bastard!" then, with a slight noise of amusement, she added, "Adam. Not the ceiling. Obviously."
"Aah... And what's Adam, the boy you invited if I might remind you, done now?"
Another noise, this one decidedly frustrated. With one quick movement she was upright and facing him.
"I've tried to tell him, but he won't listen. No less than fifteen times! Honestly I've seen toddlers with a bigger attention span than that boy! 's not a wildly complicated thing - it's a water boiler. Futuristic, yeah, but all it does is boil water! Wouldn't let me get myself even a cuppa, kept hogging it and making ooh-ing and aah-ing noises! Over a bloody waterboiler!"
Suppressing his laughter, he nodded quickly. Apparently that was sufficient acknowledgment for her, for she continued without prodding further, irritation clearly visible at the treatment she'd received.
"And he dismisses me, like I can't possibly know more than him! He's bloody irritating, that boy! A bit pretty, yeah, but so infuriating! And arrogant! Like I'm just a pretty blonde and couldn't possibly know what he's talking about - like he's the cleverest person in the room! GOD! Not been that angry in a long time! Why'd you let me take him, Doctor? I mean, seriously! He's in a spaceship, travelling through time and he keeps gushing over a water boiler!"
Amused he watched as she finally ran out of steam, huffing in frustration as she pushed her hair out her face. With one step he was at her side, holding out his hand to her and watching as her hand intertwined with his without second thought, the movement so intuitive and familiar she'd reached out before his hand had even stopped moving. This woman who had faced him down when he'd had a gun pointed at her, when he'd fully intended to kill a defenceless being - though a Dalek was never really without defences - and yet here she was, still at his side, still reaching for him as though it was only natural, no fear or hesitancy to be seen. Rose Tyler... he didn't really know what to make of her and yet he thought that every moment spent with her, she might be healing him just as she seemed to help everyone they met.
"I let him come cause you asked."
He grinned slightly when her cheeks flushed in response to his words and then, finally, she became aware of her surroundings.
"Where am I?" Her eyes had finally landed on the current piece of furniture she was lying on and realisation seemed to dawn. "This is your room, isn't it, Doctor?"
"Yep. I would say make yourself comfortable, but I think you've already done that."
There was no way to stop his laughter when she jumped up at his words, cheeks a delightful red colour. He honestly had thought he would mind if she'd ever be in his room; this was his inner sanctum, his privacy that she'd technically invaded without second thought... yet it only seemed natural. He'd been in her bedroom more than once, now, what should it matter if she was in his?
Before he could say anything, the aforementioned second companion that had so thoroughly aggravated her, burst in and he found himself growing just as angry. That boy had no sense - running into his room without knocking! Who'd he think he was?
"Don't do it! It's not worth it!"
Both the Doctor and Rose stopped in their movements, puzzled. Rose was the one to finally ask, curiousity having overwhelmed her initial desire to tell the boy to get lost.
"Do what?"
"Sleep with him, of course. He's an alien and, well, you're human and I realise he's promised you things you daren't dream of but even if he looks human, I wouldn't trust him! And he might have diseases and he's an alien, a thing!"
Only now did he become aware of how close they were, there was barely any space between their bodies, yet, to his amazement, they weren't actually touching apart from their intertwined hands. Similarly realising their compromising position, Rose was about to step away and put them at a more respectable distance when the Doctor's hand around hers tightened, a silent plea for her to remain where she was. She complied and stayed, their bodies closer than he would've normally allowed, but until the boy had pointed it out he had been surprisingly unaware of any intrusion into his personal space.
"Yeah, you're right. I am an alien. And this- this is my room. And as the captain of this ship, I'm telling you that this is off-limits. If you ever set foot in here again, I will personally open the doors and kick you into outer space. And trust me - you don't want to ever see me angry. Out. Now."
Adam seemed to be only too keen to dig himself in deeper, though.
"I won't let you touch her!"
He saw Rose's by now all too familiar mischievous smile before he felt the tap on his wrist, a mute request in her eyes for him to play along.
"But what if I want him to touch me? See, once you've had alien, 's hard to go back to humans," her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth, a surprisingly sinful expression on her face when she looked up at him. It was enough for him to momentarily forget about the other person in the room, all his focus on the blonde looking up at him, all playful and seductive.
Adam's noise of disgust jerked him back to reality and they watched together in glee as he fled the room, both of them laughing the moment the doors were closed.
"Oh, you are fantastic, absolutely fantastic!"
She gifted him with one of her tongue-touched grins, once again comfortable and relaxed in his presence, watching as he leant down and picked up his previously discarded literature.
"Fancy a new book? Got this one here..."
He threw the book at her, watching as her eyes quickly scanned over the back of it.
"Another Sherlock Holmes?"
"Oy! Don't mock it."
Another wide smile from her.
"I wouldn't dare."
Snorting lightly, he made himself comfortable on his bed, patting the space next to him while silently thanking his ship for the extra pillows she'd thoughtfully provided.
Her eyes lit up at the unspoken offer and he watched as she divested herself of her shoes and her jacket, moving to snuggle up to him - to which he responded with his usual put-upon sigh, even as his arm tightened around her.
Her hands brushed his as she handed him the book and then she sank deeper into the bed, grinning up at him as he cleared his throat and started to read to her.
He had shared so many things with, things he hadn't shared with anyone else. It felt so easy, the words coming out before he could even think about it. And now, apparently, he was part of the family - her family. He didn't know what he'd call his relationship with Jackie, but he she had included him in her small familial circle, for which he was endlessly grateful. It had been a long time since there had been anyone he could call family.
"Look, I'm not sure I like you."
The Doctor grimaced at Jackie's words, turning around. She'd obviously decided to take the opportunity her daughter had afforded her by running off to have a shower.
"You stole my daughter from me. For a year - you can't understand how worried... she's all I've got and I- no one had seen her, no one knew and the police was tellin' me to give up and Mickey- oh, poor Mickey..."
Jackie took a deep breath, having learnt a long time ago not to show weakness to others; not in this harsh and cruel world she had been forced to live in after Pete had died.
"So, yeah, you took her from me. But you also brought her back to me. And, much as I hate to say it, I've never seen her happier than when she is with you. 'm not sure about this alien-face-changing thing but I reckon I should've given this to you on your last visit when you were still big-ears."
He couldn't help himself; he stared open-mouthed at the key in his hand. This- this was definitely unexpected. Her demeanour softened when she saw his awe and shock, allowing him to see the affection she held for him.
"I reckon you're family. You saved my girl and that's good enough for me. 'sides you're better than Jimmy Stone any time and, well, you're better for her than Mickey could've ever been. So, yeah, you don't need to call ahead, just let yourself in any time you're in the neighbourhood. This is your home, too. Rose hasn't told me much, but she said you're the last of your kind. Well, whenever you can't remember what's it like to be human, when you don't know anymore, you can come here. Even if it's just a bit of telly and a cuppa. Any time, Doctor. You're family now. And even if... if anything ever happens to her," the tears were hard to suppress, but even if her daughter thought she'd hidden it well, thought her mum didn't know about the dangers she was encountering on her trips, the bruises and her newfound caution were hard to hide, "you're always welcome here. Even if it's just you. This- This is your home now too."
To his own surprise, his throat felt tight and his hand fisted around the precious metal object in his hand. To be invited into their home and family after all that had happened; he really, really hadn't expected it. Certainly not from Jackie, though now he could see the affection in her eyes that she always covered with an abrasiveness she had been forced to learn when living as a single mum in the rougher parts of London.
"Jackie, I-"
The eldest Tyler shushed him to his amusement. The great Oncoming Storm shushed by a London Housewife; to be fair, though, they hadn't met the formidable woman that Jackie proved to be.
"There are conditions."
Aha, there it was. The tightness in his chest vanished and he suppressed the hurt at the realisation that, obviously, she wanted something. Probably Pete; blimey, that was going to be painful. Not something he'd ever wanted to discuss, though, thinking of it now, it had probably been inevitable.
"Oh, don't look at me like that. I reckon even you can do that. I'd ask you to come home at least once a week, but I don't think I could make you do that, so once a month," again, he was staring at her. This was not at all what he'd expected, "Once a month you are to come down here and let me look after you for a minimum of four hours before you can both go sauntering off; and yes, both. That includes you. Four hours a month, can you do that?"
So much more tactile; he'd pulled her into a hug, wanting to reciprocate the love she was showing him, even if he didn't quite know how to. Hugging the mum was very different to hugging the daughter; Rose felt warm, soft and so very much alive; Jackie, on the other hand, felt slightly fragile, warm and had an uncanny way of momentarily making him feel like a young boy again being scolded for misbehaviour.
"Well, I will just have to let Rose know we have to come back here for eight hours every month."
It was all he could offer her, for now. That and her daughter, maybe not safe but very, very happy. His hands tightened around the key; a symbol of family, of home and eerily similar to what he offered to all his companions. He heard her sniff, but, in a manner reminiscent of her daughter, she refused to let the tears show.
"Go on, then. Get changed. I expect you back for Christmas Dinner."
Grinning, whipping on his heels, he saluted Jackie, amused when she swatted him with the dish cloth.
"Off you trot. Go on then!"
Christmas dinner had been unexpectedly charming, a loving atmosphere permeating the very air around them that he'd never really gotten to experience before. Rose and Jackie were family, his family; the only one he still had left. His hands automatically sought out the key he had on a chain around his neck; it was only fitting that both him and Rose wore the keys to each other's home in the same place.
Leaning back, he stared off at the ceiling, the words coming before he could think about it; she always did this to him, made him want to share bits of himself he'd not talked about for decades and never really told any human.
"I don't think I've ever told you about my home."
Somehow, he'd once again ended up on the couch with her curled into him, her soft curves fitting so well into this new body.
"The applegrass on New New York has nothing on Gallifrey's. It's red- red grass, silver leaves on trees and two suns. I used to spend the entire day, sometimes, just running across the fields. You'd have loved it. When the suns rose in the mornings behind the mountains, it used to glow; the fields looked they were ablaze with fire and the silver leaves would shine radiantly..."
Eyes closed, imagining his home planet, his hands carding through the soft, blonde hair of his companion soothingly, he realised this was the first time he could think of it without remembering the war and the screams. Kissing the top of her head, a silent thanks for something he could not yet express to her, he took a moment to realise again just how much more tactile this new body was. Shaking off the flood of sensations, using his superior biology to suppress and filter his hormone levels, he pulled his companion tightly against him and in a low, soft voice, told her about his home planet... and the childhood friend he used to have, never mentioning who he turned into; preferring, instead, to at least with her remember him the way he used to be. Not the Master but rather Koschei.
And Rose, beautiful, perfect Rose, didn't interrupt him or stop him, didn't demand any explanations - she just sat there, looking up at him with those wide, brown eyes, love shining in her eyes and so content to just listen, to listen to anything he'd tell her, never pushing or demanding, just being there - and that, that was more than enough. And he couldn't help but love her for it.
Great, big thanks goes out to all my lovely reviewers!
Painted Orchid
Thank you so much for both your reviews. I'm glad you enjoyed the story. I agree, Mickey wasn't quite as tin dog; I've explained his reasoning, I hope, a bit here and hopefully a bit more in line with his character. Thanks for pointing this out! I'm glad you're enjoying the emotional rollercoaster of the story. Hopefully I'll keep you spellbound until this fic is finished :)
paradiso31
Thank you very much for your review and I'm glad you enjoy the story and the emotional aspects of it. Yeah, they are, sorta. But we all know the Doctor would be nothing without his Rose, so I think there isn't much that's going to keep 'em apart for long. What do you think?
J
Glad this one was an easier read. Well, you'll be glad to know that his chapter is 13k instead of 'just' 9k, so hopefully it'll give you more to read. Unfortunately I only managed to squeeze Doctor/Rose interaction in at the end. The rest somehow needed much more writing than I originally anticipated. Anyway, I'm glad you're enjoying it and that the emotional scenes seemed to have struck a cord with everyone.
cecilehem
Wow, what a compliment indeed! I actually found myself reading this to my partner in amazement; thanks so very, very much. This has really filled me with a lot of confidence. I'm glad you enjoy their interactions. Hope I keep living up to your expectations and can keep you ensnared until the end of the story. I'd love to hear what you think of this latest chapter as well.
Kylaia78
Yay, thank you very much! I'm glad you're enjoying and I would love to get another review for my latest chapter.
madagascarpingu
Hey pingu! I shouldn't be quite this happy that I made you cry, but I am! Thank you so much (for both the review and the tears :) ). I do hope you enjoy this last chapter and continue reading.
MuppetKatie
Thanks so much for that lovely review. I'm glad you're enjoying the backstory, cause there's more coming. Well, as you can see/read, the Doctor, while not ignorant, rather spectacularly misinterpreted her plight. I hope you enjoy the growing closeness between the two and I'd love more feedback :)
Guest
Thanks for your review. Unfortunately, we all know the brightest geniuses sometimes have trouble seeing what's right in front of their eyes. To be fair, it wouldn't have occurred to him, not really. Anyway, I hope you're enjoying the latest chapter and I would always love another review!