AN: Yeah...I have no explanation for how this chapter was written so quickly. But...here it is. Thanks so much to ALL of you. To the ones who I can't respond to, please know that I appreciate you as well! I wish I could tell you so individually. Next chapter is very significant. I hope you stick around for it!

Thursday, November 14, 2013

"Didn't feel like anything…"

"If I could go back and change it all, I would!"

"Since I met you, my life has been one bloody mess after another, and I'm done with it!"

"It was nothing; nothing but a mistake. Something that should not have happened…"

"It was nothing…"

"Nothing…"

"Nothing…"

Rose's eyes flew open as her subconscious took pity and tore her away from the painful recollections plaguing her sleep. Well, if one could call it sleep. It was more of a tossing and turning as Rose tried to quiet her mind and heart. Unfortunately, all her efforts were unsuccessful.

Blinking several times, Rose allowed her eyes to focus and take in her surroundings. As she did so, she realized she was curled up on the sofa in her parents' living room, a quilt draped over her. The events of the previous night came back to her and she felt a wave of fatigue and forlornness wash over her. Feeling a coiling sensation in the pit of her stomach, she curled further into herself, pulling the quilt tighter around her, and closed her eyes.

After a few moments, a sudden hand began to stroke her hair. Opening her eyes, Rose looked up to see her mum standing above her, a steaming mug in hand, and smiling affectionately at her.

"Mornin', sweetheart."

Rose returned the smile, though much softer. "Mornin', Mum."

"Budge up," Jackie instructed, motioning for Rose to move.

Slowly, Rose obeyed and sat up, allowing Jackie to sit next to her. She put the mug to her lips, but then frowned as Rose remained upright.

"Well come on now," she said, patting her lap.

Deciphering her meaning, the corners of Rose's lips twitched upward before she laid her head down on her mum's lap. The gesture, childish or not, felt comforting; and that was what she needed at the moment.

Several minutes of silence passed as Jackie sipped her tea and stroked her daughter's hair, before Rose finally spoke.

"Dad tell you?" she asked, though it was more of a statement as opposed to a question.

"Mm-hmm," her mum answered, taking another sip of tea.

When there was no further answer, Rose flipped onto her back, looking up at her mum.

"That's it?" she asked in surprised confusion.

"Wha'?" Jackie countered, her dark brows furrowed.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. But for a woman whose slap is considered capital punishment, you're oddly calm. It's actually sorta…creepy," Rose said, and not entirely joking.

Jackie pursed her lips before replying, "Yeah, well…normally, I'd be more than happy to knock that plonker's teeth out and feed them back to 'im. But, I'd rather not have this baby behind bars like some bleedin' soap."

"And because y'know I wouldn't want you to do anythin' to Ian, right?" Rose asked, quirking an eyebrow.

There was a pause before Jackie shook her head. "Nah, it's mainly the prison thing."

Rose snorted and rolled her eyes. "Whatever. It still gives me the creeps to see ya like this."

Jackie swatted her forehead. "Oh button it, you. Lord, I can't win for losing with you lot. I do somethin', an' ya say I'm overreacting. I do nothin', an' ya say it's creepy. Make up your mind, yeah?"

"Nah…makes things less interesting if we just pick one," Rose giggled, turning back onto her side.

"You're a bit too cheeky for your own good, y'know that?" her mum quipped while Rose continued to giggle.

Jackie continued to sip on her cuppa while thinking about what, if anything, was best to say. The fierce maternal instinct within her wanted to find the bloody wanker who had broken her daughter's heart—find him and slap his teeth clean out of his hollow skull. Unable to stop the motherly reproof on her tongue, Jackie spoke up.

"I do remember tellin' you that ya barely kn-..."

"Mum...," Rose warned. She did not want those words spoken. This whole situation had absolutely nothing to do with how long she had known Ian.

"Alright, fine," her mum muttered, sighing afterwards. She wanted so desperately to do something, anything to help Rose through this; but she was honestly thrown by the intensity of Rose's reaction. Undeniably, Jackie was beyond livid about it all. But at the same time, it wasn't as if they had been in a serious relationship. As far as she could determine, they had only spent a handful of times together.

"I gotta say somethin', love."

"If it's anythin' kin to 'I told ya so,' I don't wanna hear it," Rose answered in a firm voice, her head still lying on her mum's lap.

"S'not, Rose. I just don't quite understand why you're so broken up over this prat. I'd expect ya to be right hot 'bout it, but…sweetheart, ya weren't a couple. It wasn't even like what ya had with Mickey."

With an irritated sigh, Rose flipped onto her back once more. "Mum, a kiss for a lolly when we were five is not a relationship."

"Exactly what I'm sayin', Rose," Jackie countered. "You an' that Ian bloke weren't even at that level."

Rose could feel her anger and frustration increasing, and she hurriedly sat up and pulled away from her mum.

"Enough, Mum. If alls you're gonna do is make jabs like that, then-…"

Jackie grabbed her hand as Rose attempted to leave the sofa. "Rose…love, that's not what I's tryin' to do. I just…," she sighed, placing her mug onto the floor. "I just don't understand what's so bleedin' special 'bout this man."

Sighing, Rose gently pulled her wrist away and drew her knees to her chest. She wasn't certain she could explain the depth and intensity of her feelings for Ian—words felt lacking.

"I dunno how to explain it, Mum. It's…," Rose trailed off. Suddenly, a thought came to her, and she looked her mum in the eye. "It's like in school, when they tell ya that everythin' is moving—the Earth, the planets, everythin. It's always in motion. But ya can't feel it. No matter how hard ya try. It's so hard to believe, that ya start to think that maybe it's just a story. But when I met Ian…," she moved closer, an eager expression in her eyes, "When I met 'im, I could feel it—the turn of the Earth, the burning of the stars…everythin'. It was like I finally understood; it wasn't just a story. It was…real."

A heavy, warmth entered Rose's eyes, and she knew it was her tears begging release. Sniffing, she turned her face away and pressed on.

"But…but now that he's…," Rose took a deep breath, "I-I…I can't feel it anymore, Mum. It's gone." Hot tears finally broke free and trailed her cheeks. "And don't say that there's someone else out there, 'cause I know there's not. I know ya might think I'm completely daft, but I know with everythin' I am that it's the truth."

Furiously wiping at her tear stained face, Rose faced her mother again. "That's what's so special 'bout 'im, Mum. That's why I…," she trailed off, taking a sharp, haggard breath, "…why I love 'im."

Jackie had remained silent throughout Rose's explanation, transfixed by what she saw in her daughter's eyes as she spoke. It was pure and beautiful; and it only added to the aching she felt for her.

"Oh, sweetheart…"

The words had barely left Jackie's lips before Rose scurried off the sofa, standing up and scrubbing at her face.

"I'm fine, Mum, really. Ya hungry? How 'bout I make those scones ya like so much?"

Without waiting for a reply, Rose flashed a watery smile and left the room.

For the first time in what felt like eons, there were no dreams to pull Ian from his sleep. Rather, it was the bright morning light streaming through his typically closed curtains that roused him. Blinking his eyes into focus, he pushed himself up from what he now realized was his sofa. Continuing to prop himself up with one arm, he used his free hand to wipe the remaining traces of sleep from his eyes. As his eyes focused, so too did his mind; and the events of last night came back to him. Before he could contemplate further, the sound of movement from the direction of the kitchen caught his attention. Sliding off the sofa, Ian headed towards the noise.

As he entered the kitchen, Ian saw Jack rummaging through the cabinets while a pot of coffee brewed on the counter behind him. Even though he hadn't had a drop of alcohol, Ian's head was pounding. It was confusing to him because it was the first time his mind had felt emotionally unburdened in six years; however, he didn't feel the need to determine the cause of his headache; it really was insignificant.

Jack heard Ian's entrance and glanced over at him, flashing a smile before turning back to the cabinets.

"Did you stay here last night?" Ian asked groggily.

"Yep. By the way, your mattress is incredible," Jack answered, still searching.

"You slept in my bed? And left me on the sofa? Hardly seems fair," Ian grumbled, plopping himself on a bar stool and laying his aching head on the cool countertop.

"You seemed comfortable-ish," Jack smirked as Ian snorted. "Ian, you do realize that food is s'posed to go in these things on the wall and this big metallic box, right? So far I've found scotch, coffee, a couple bananas, and a green log that I can only assume was bread at one point."

"Hand me a banana," he asked, holding out his hand while his head remained on the counter.

Jack plopped the banana into Ian's waiting hand and opened one of the cabinets near the coffee maker.

"Oh look, cups!" Jack said in mock surprise, "Who'd a guessed? Well, that's one for twenty."

Ian couldn't help the smile on his lips. He'd missed this banter, but didn't realize till that moment how much. A sudden, sharp ache rippled across his forehead, and he groaned.

"I feel like I've been hit by a lorry."

Jack placed a mug in front of Ian's resting head. "Ya look like it too," he jabbed.

Ian raised his head and furrowed his brow. "This," he said, gesturing between them, "I didn't miss this."

"Liar," Jack replied with a teasing grin.

Rolling his eyes, but smiling a little wider now, Ian picked up the steaming coffee and took a long sip.

"So, what are your plans for today?"

"Probably go in after lunch. I've gotten behind on multiple things. Won't be long before they're calling for my head," he answered, sighing tiredly and rubbing his forehead.

Jack nodded in acknowledgement and took another sip from his mug. "You should call Rose at some point."

Every muscle in Ian's body tensed at hearing that name. His hold on his mug tightened and he stared down at the dark liquid. "W-why," he cleared his throat, "why would I call her?"

"To let her know you're okay," he replied, furrowing his brow in confusion at Ian's question. "When I called her yesterday, she said you'd left before she went into work."

Ian lifted his gaze at that statement, looking straight at his brother. "That's all? She didn't say anything else?"

"No…," Jack drawled, "She said she was busy and had to go. Why? Was there something else she should have told me?"

"No…I guess not."

The fact that Rose had said nothing about what had happened was… Well, Ian didn't know what it was, but he was conflicted about it. The cruel words he'd spat at her in pain, weighed heavy on his heart. He desperately wanted to know how she was, and found himself wishing she had told Jack som-…

Ian's trail of thought immediately halted as he realized there was a connection between Rose and his brother. "Wait. How do you two even know each other?"

"Rose has been delivering pastries to our firm every Friday for almost two years."

Turning his eyes downward again, Ian silently nodded.

Jack's confusion was growing by the minute. When he'd spoken to Rose at length, he'd gotten the impression that there was a relationship forming between her and his brother. But after witnessing Rose go to great lengths to find Ian and their personal exchanges in the park, Jack was more than certain of it. However, as Ian sat before him, staring into his cup, Jack felt that there was something he was definitely missing.

"She's pretty amazing. Aunt Sarah's pretty fond of her too," Jack said, fairly confident this would provoke a reaction.

Sure enough, Ian's head darted upright, his eyes widening. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I said Aunt Sarah really liked Rose. Quite taken with her, actually."

"Go back, go back," Ian started, his surprise and confusion mounting with each passing moment. "H-how…how does Sarah Jane know Rose? This is the first I'm hearing all of this."

"It was when we visited Dad's grave. Sarah Jane stopped by the bakery, and Rose gave her a ride when it started raining. They talked for a bit, and it really helped Sarah Jane. This year was harder on her, and she really appreciated Rose taking the time to listen."

Ian's mind was starting to become overwhelmed, but despite that, he couldn't help but crave any and all information. He hadn't given much thought to seeing Rose and Jack together at the park; after all, he'd thought he'd returned to his preferred reality. But in the clear light of day, the knowledge that his family knew Rose was mindboggling.

Jack could practically see Ian's thought whirling chaotically. He put his mug down and took a few steps towards him, bracing his arms on the countertop.

"Ian… You know that Rose knows about Dad, right?"

An intense ringing sounded in Ian's ears as this knowledge hit him full force. He could hardly believe it. Rose had known? For how long?

"H-how did she find out about him, Jack? I-I…I never told her about any of that!"

"She found out on her own. After she talked to Sarah Jane, she put two and two together, and searched online. I only filled her in on a few details. Not all of them, but she still knows about Harry and what happened to Dad. Has for a while now."

Ian drug a hand over his face, resting it over his mouth. His mind could not formulate a response to what he'd just learned, barely even able to process it. Rose knew about virtually everything. She knew and she'd said nothing, never once letting on about it. Somehow this fact caused his heart to become even more weighed down and suddenly seize with pain. Why hadn't she said something? Why hadn't she confronted him with that knowledge when he was standing in her flat?

"Did something happen between you two?" Jack inquire, seeing a guilt rise into Ian's eyes. "'Cause I can tell that there's something you're not saying."

Taking a deep breath, Ian pushed back his chair and stood.

"Can we let this go for now? I… I'm sorta tapped out on the whole talking thing."

He could see a rebuttal forming on Jack's lips, so he preempted him. "Please? I'm not saying I won't talk about it, I just…," Ian sighed, "I just can't right now."

Several beats passed at Jack studied his brother, took in his stance and the tone of his voice. He wanted to know what had happened between Ian and Rose; but at the same time, he knew that he needed to measure his steps wisely when it came to Ian. Though much had been restored last night, Jack knew that he needed to use caution before pursuing anything aggressively, especially this topic. Using an incredible amount of restraint, he nodded in acquiescence.

"Sure. Later's fine. I gotta head out, anyway. Have a few things I need to wrap up. You gonna be okay?"

Offering a small smile, Ian nodded. "Yeah, I'm alr-…," he started, but stopped as Rose's voice echoed in his mind.

Don't do that…

"I'll be okay," he said instead, "I'll talk to you later, yeah?"

"You bet."

Offering a stronger smile, Ian left to get ready for the day.

"We're gonna get caught. Y'know that, yeah?"

"We won't if you stop flippin' out, so just calm down! 'Sides, this was your idea."

"I know, but-…"

"He hurt Rose, Jake."

As soon as Mickey said the words, Jake felt his resolve steel. Mickey was right; Ian Smith had hurt Rose—deeply. She might not want to do anything about it, but they were family; they took care of their own.

"Let's do it before someone sees us and gets wise."

Double checking that they had the right office, Jake twisted the knob very carefully, just in case it was unlocked. Finding it so, he and Mickey entered the office and immediately realized that no one was there. Quickly passing the front desk, the two entered Ian's office. Jake sat down at Ian's desk while Mickey kept watch.

Reaching into his pocket, Jake pulled out a USB drive and put it into port. He pulled the keyboard towards him and began furiously typing away.

"Ya sure it's gonna work?"

"Of course. I wrote the program," Jake smirked, his eyes focused on the screen.

"Oi! Not the time to start that up again."

Jake couldn't help but snort in amusement. "Almost done…," he said as he typed a few more lines of code. "Got it. Let's go."

Standing, Jake pocketed the thumb-drive and followed after Mickey. They were just at the front desk when the main door opened, and they came face to face with an attractive dark-skinned woman. She froze upon seeing them, her eyes widening in shock before narrowing in suspicion.

"Who are you? What are you two doing in here?" she demanded.

Both men stared at her, but managed to keep their expressions free from guilt. Suddenly, Jake spoke up.

"Sorry. We didn't mean to frighten ya. We just came to fix the computer. S'all taken care of, so we'll be off now."

Before the woman could ask any more questions, Jake and Mickey sidestepped her and hurriedly exited the office.

Rose knew…she knew it all. That fact played over and over in Ian's mind. Even though he knew it to be true, it was still incredibly difficult to believe. Thinking of her inevitably brought their shouting match to the forefront of his mind. The words he'd spouted were cruel, venomous, and hurt him to recall. Try as he might, Ian couldn't banish the memory of Rose's face, contorted in pain, and the sob that escaped her. She had valiantly restrained her emotions, he could see her anguish. He remembered how his muscles twitched as they yearned to pull her close, to comfort her. In truth, he wasn't certain what he would have done if Martha hadn't thrown him out.

Ian was truly at a loss as how to proceed. While he had finally allowed himself to let go of the guilt he held for his father's death, he was now holding guilt for his actions towards Rose. How could he ever make amends for what he'd done? What words were there? Would she even want to hear them? He could not fault her if she never wanted to see him again. Should he even attempt it?

His mind warred with such questions as he made his way into the building and to his office. On opening the door, Ian was greeted with the sight of Cathica studiously examining several of the files he'd given her earlier in the week. Hearing his entrance, she looked up and her features tensed.

Seeing her uneasiness filled him with regret, and he approached her.

"Cathica," he began, clearing his throat, "I owe you an apology. How I acted… it wasn't because of anything you had done, but you got caught in the crosshairs. I should never have treated you like I did. It was disrespectful, and I'm truly sorry."

Cathica's jaw slacked in shock at Ian's apology. She was struck not only by its utterance, but also its sincerity. It took a moment before she found her voice.

"I-I… Thank you, sir. I appreciate you saying that."

Nodding his head and giving her a closed lip smile, he left Cathica to her work as he began his own.

Carrying a duffle over her shoulder and dragging two suitcases behind her, Rose walked into Donna's flat. Without announcing her presence, she dropped her luggage by the door and walked the hallway to the living room. Instead of Donna, she saw Wilf sitting in the oversized armchair, arguing with the remote.

Grinning, Rose walked over and placed a kiss on his head before sitting on the chair arm. "Problem, Gramps?"

He looked up, and on seeing her, his frustration morphed into joy. Leaning over, Wilf reciprocated her affectionate welcome. "Hello, my dear. And yes…Donna 'upgraded,' as she put it. Apparently that means having some newfangled clicker. All I want is to do is change the channels, is that too much to ask?"

Rose couldn't help but heartily chuckle and hold out her hand. "Lemme see."

After he handed over the offending object, she looked it over and then showed him how it worked. Thanking her, he took back the controller, still muttering insults at it.

"Donna's in the kitchen, sweetheart, finishin' up dinner."

Placing another kiss to his head, Rose left and walked into the kitchen. Donna was at the chopping block, mincing an onion. She looked up and briefly allowed their eyes to meet before focusing back on her task.

Several beats of silence before Donna spoke. "I see you've decided to stop hiding out at your mum and dad's."

"That's not a bit fair, Donna, and you know it," Rose tersely replied.

Donna put aside her knife. "You're right. I shouldn't have said that." Taking a breath, she looked up at her best friend. "I was worried when you ran out yesterday. You're phone kept going to voicemail, none of us could reach you."

Rose ran her hand through her hair and sighed, closing her eyes.

"We wanted to help you, Rose. It's what we do, what we've always done."

"It was too much, Donna. All of you there, demanding that I tell you what happened. I couldn't handle that. I just couldn't."

"We weren't tryin' to ambush you," Donna said earnestly.

"I know," Rose answered, nodding her head.

It hadn't escaped Donna's notice that Rose still hadn't looked at her. Wiping her hands on her apron, Donna walked over to her friend and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. Rose instantly felt that familiar comfort and burrowed her head into Donna's shoulder.

"We've been through a lot, you an' me. Been side by side for every major event in our lives. And y'know that there isn't anythin' I wouldn't do for you…"

Rose nodded her silent acknowledgement.

"An' it's killin' me that you won't let me in this time. I've never seen you this way, and it…it frightens me, Rose. It truly does."

For several minutes there was nothing but silence. Then, Donna felt her shirt begin to dampen and Rose begin to faintly tremble.

"He doesn't want me, Donna," she whispered, her voice strangled with tears. "He doesn't want me."

Feeling her own heart tear, Donna pulled her in tighter. "Oh, Rose…"

Finally allowing herself the comfort of her longest and best friend, Rose let her tears fall, drawing strength from Donna's presence. Donna continued to silently embrace her, and think of multiple methods of torture that she'd like to try out on a certain prat of a prosecutor.

After a few more minutes, Rose was able to rein in her emotions and she pulled back from Donna, wiping her wetted cheeks.

"You're staying here tonight," Donna informed Rose, leaving no room for debate.

"I know," Rose replied with a small smile. "But I have to leave early in the morning. I have a flight to catch."

"What?!" Donna yelped, her eyes wide with surprise. "What do ya mean you have a flight? Where are you going?"

"I, uh…I took Sally up on her offer. I'm gonna go with her to New York. She was s'posed to fly out on Monday, but there were no more seats on that flight. She called Aunt Bev, and she got us seats on a flight for tomorrow. Well, actually it was Jim. Guess he's got connections with one of the higher-ups in the airline. So…"

Donna couldn't help but gape and blink repeatedly at her. "H-How long?"

"'Bout three weeks."

"You're leavin' me for three weeks?" Donna shrieked, her eyes now bulging.

Rose rolled her eyes at her dramatics. "I'm not leavin' you, Donna. I'm just…"

"Running away?" Donna proffered gently.

"No, I'm not. I'm just… I need to take a breath, and…and right now, I don't think I can do that here."

Though she tried to hide it, Donna could hear the emotions tangled up in Rose's voice. And even though she'd miss her like crazy, if this was what Rose needed, then Donna was going to back her completely.

Pushing aside her own conflicting emotions, Donna sighed dramatically. "Alright, fine. But you better bring me back somethin'. And I don't mean one of those shirts that every bloody tourist tosses their money away on. I want somethin' high-end. Like, a gorgeous pair of shoes from 5th Avenue… oh, or a hat! An' it better not be-…"

Donna pulled away and went back to finishing dinner, all the while continuing to natter on about what was and was not acceptable gifts, how she was not to move to "bloody America," and so on and so forth. Rose smiled and laughed as she listened and watched Donna become more and more animated. Yet no matter how comforted she was by Donna and her flamboyance, it still didn't change the fact that Rose felt as if she was struggling for air; she had been ever since she last saw Ian. And as each passing hour became more and more difficult, Rose couldn't help but wonder if there would ever be a time where she'd be able to breathe again.