Doctor Who

Broadchurch AU

Chapter One

Rose Tyler awoke with a gasp, sitting upright in her bed.

Sweat dripped from her forehead, her cheeks flushed and the insides of her palms sweaty. The sounds of screaming echoed in her ears, the same nightmare, day in, day out. This had been occurring for the past ten years, and it wasn't going away.

No amount of therapy was ever going to help her.

With a frustrated sigh, Rose kicked the covers off the bed and swung her legs over the other side. She glanced at the alarm clock on the table next to her and saw that it was almost four o'clock in the morning.

Insomnia was a bitch.

Giving up on the idea of sleeping that night, Rose got out of bed and directed herself towards the kitchen, turning the kettle on for some caffeine, but then getting a glass of water to cool her clammy skin. Would this nightmare ever end?

Probably not.

Sometime later after a long, hot shower and some breakfast – that consisted of a granola bar and a banana smoothie –, Rose felt a bit more human than she did when she first woke up. She changed into a pair of jeans and an oversized sweater, ready to take on the day.

Her primary goal … finding a job. Moving to the seaside town of Broadchurch was an attempt for a fresh start, away from the trauma and the devastation from her past. She had experienced her first night alone in her own house, and now she was ready to explore the town and get accustomed to everything around her. It was about eight o'clock in the morning when Rose left the house, embracing the crisp morning air that enveloped her. At least it was quiet and not a lot of people surrounding her as she strolled through the town.

She first applied at the supermarket, although they weren't necessarily looking for anybody, they still accepted her application. Whilst there, Rose picked up a few groceries, and then looked into the local hotel.

No luck.

Rose then came across another place called Broadchurch Echo. A local newspaper editor. She didn't have much experience or knowledge, but Rose had had an interest in creative writing from a young age. It couldn't hurt to enquire.

She stepped into the small building, the sound of a bell ringing above her, alerting the people inside to her presence. There were a few computer desks, a young man – fairly good looking – in his mid-twenties peaking interest when Rose arrived. She ignored his pressing looks and was soon distracted as an older woman with greying blonde hair approached her, a lit cigarette in hand.

"Hi there, petal, I'm Maggie Radcliffe, head editor of the Broadchurch Echo." She greeted softly. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"I hope so." Rose smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "My name is Rose and I'm new to the town and I'm looking for a job. I don't have much experience, but I won a writers competition during my ninth year of high school and my teacher once said I'd make a pretty good journalist one day."

Maggie's head tilted, as she regarded Rose carefully. "Well, we are looking for a junior since our last editor quit without notice, but we were looking for somebody with more experience and qualifications." She sighed thoughtfully, placing her hands on her hips. "I tell you what, if you give me your email then I'll give you a prompt for an article. Call it a trial run, about five hundred words due by midnight tomorrow. Think you could do that?"

"Sure!" Rose beamed, elated at the chance. "I'm up for a challenge."

"Brilliant. If you speak to my colleague Oliver here, then you can leave your details with him. I'd be wary of him though; he tends to get a bit … full on if you catch my drift." Maggie winked before patting Rose on the shoulder and walking away to the back offices.

It was only then that Rose realised that Oliver had been watching them – specifically her – pretty intensely, making her feel a little uncomfortable. Still, she took it in her stride, and sat in the chair opposite Oliver's desk. "So, I take it you're Oliver?"

"You'd be correct." Oliver twiddled a pen between his fingers, leaning back smugly in his chair. "And you're Rose, right? Pretty name for a pretty girl. Let's have your email, then." Rose was passed a pen and a post-it note, ignoring his 'attempts' to flirt as she scribbled her email address onto the post-it note. She said nothing, sliding it back to him. "No phone number, then? Shame."

"Where I come from Oliver, manners don't go amiss. I might be from London, but I still believe in traditional values. I'm not interested in guys right now, or any sort of relationship for that matter. And even if I was, you're not my type. I don't go for guys who are ruled by their cock." With that, Rose got to her feet and left the building, finding the enclosed space suddenly stifling.

Maggie had been watching the interaction from her office and couldn't help but smirk upon seeing Oliver's sullen mood. "Oh, I like her." She chuckled. "She's feisty that one. Depending on whether or not she can write, I'll hire her. She's a girl who knows how to keep you in line, we need more of her kind around here."

After exploring the town further and taking photographs of the scenery from the clifftops, Rose made a trip to the local coffee shop, eager to get some caffeine into her system. As soon as she opened the door, she was hit with a barrage of abuse, although this time it was not aimed at her.

"You bloody idiot! How hard is it to get my order right?! I asked for a simple black Americano, no sugar, milk, creamer, nothing! So why is my coffee slightly whiter than black and has a hint of caramel?" The voice was furious, and Scottish. Very Scottish.

The poor barista trembled nervously behind the bar, grateful that the bar was blocking the angry Scottish man from hitting him. Rose had had enough. She couldn't stand bullies.

"Oi!" Rose shoved her way through, standing between the man and the barista. "Shut up you complete arse! You have no right to speak to anybody like that, least of all somebody who's trying to help you! Does anybody have manners here? Maybe you should go and take a walk, get some fresh air, anything to calm down. The world owes you nothing, yeah. Perhaps if you were more polite to people, then things would go your way. Go on then, get out of here." The two stared each other down, faces merely inches apart. The man looked like he was about to respond but thought the better of it. He huffed and stalked out of the shop, slamming the door shut behind him. Rose breathed a shuddering sigh of relief and turned to the barista. "Are you alright?"

"I will be, thank you. You didn't have to do that."

"No, I did. I've worked in customer service before, it's shit. He was being a loud-mouthed bully."

"I know. He's been here for a while now actually, everybody hates him. He's like a Dementor from Harry Potter, the air literally goes cold when he walks nearby. It's spooky."

"What's his name?"

"DI Hardy. He came here to solve the case when Danny Latimer's body was found. Poor kid, he was only eleven. Turns out it was the DI's partner's husband who did it, apparently she didn't know, but there's no way she couldn't have done. Unlucky cow."

For some reason, the name of the Detective sounded familiar, but Rose couldn't place it. She decided to do some further research on the town when she got home. "Alright, then." She murmured, glancing at the menu. "Could I please get a medium cold brew coffee?" After receiving her coffee and paying for it, Rose left the coffee shop, making the small walk home.

"Do you feel better now for getting that out of your system?"

Startled, Rose stopped and turned around to see DI Hardy stood behind her, hands shoved in his pockets, glaring at her. "Excuse me?"

"Don't play dumb with me. You knew what you were doing."

"Yeah, I did. I was standing up for that poor barista that you were verbally abusing for getting your order wrong."

"Verbally abusing?" DI Hardy scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I wouldn't call it that. I told them precisely what my order was, and when I didn't get it, I told them."

"You sounded like a five-year-old having a tantrum when they're not getting their own way." Rose shook her head. "Whatever. If you don't mind, I need to go." She started walking away, well aware that he was walking after her.

"What did you say your name was?"

"You didn't ask, DI Hardy."

"How do you know my name?"

Rose didn't answer. Instead, she smiled to herself knowing that it probably made him more irritated. She went back to the house, intended on getting some necessary jobs done.