teleidoplex (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
teleidoplex) wrote2006-12-02 02:44 am
teleidoplex) wrote2006-12-02 02:44 am
Entry tags:
The Possibility of Ways
Title: The Possibility of Ways, Chapter 1 -- The Twelfth Day
Rating: NC17 (eventually)
Media: Doctor Who (Season 2 AU)
Characters: Nine/Rose
Summary: In an infinite Universe nothing is set and everything is possible, but in choosing an alternate route there are always repercussions.
Spoilers: Doctor Who, New Seasons 1 & 2, Old Season 16
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, but I wouldn't mind ten minutes alone in the TARDIS
Archive: At A Teaspoon and an Open Mind. If you want it, check with me first.
It had been an eventful Christmas, to say the least.
Rose idly twisted back and forth on one of the swings in a deserted playground near Powell Estates. Snow – real snow this time, not the macabre ash that had drifted from the sky on Christmas – crunched beneath the soles of her wellies. It was a weekday, and the cold plus the start of the school term meant that she had the playground to herself. The quiet solitude was a welcome break after the never-ending revolving door of her mum’s flat. It was the first time she’d managed to get away on her own since arriving.
The Doctor had been notably absent since Boxing Day, mostly puttering around under the TARDIS’ console. He claimed that he was fixing the damage she’d done during her “Monster Truck Rally business”, but she had a feeling that he was still weaker than he let on. Every so often she saw a bit of strain in his eyes, a slight hitch in his gait. She wondered if this was the reason he hadn’t moved on yet, and not the mysterious knocking sound he supposedly could hear coming from the TARDIS’ inner workings. Given how her mum had taken to cosseting and scolding him by turns, and how he seemed too distracted to tell her off, he must still be feeling poorly.
Of course, given how her mum had been nagging at her, and the doleful glances that Mickey kept shooting her way, Rose was tempted to move back into her room on the TARDIS herself, just for some peace and quiet. She was starting to understand why the Doctor didn’t do domestic.
She didn’t move back, though. In fact, she had been surreptitiously avoiding the Doctor. Through all the excitement of the Sycorax invasion, the holidays, and the Doctor’s illness, they had avoided talking about what she’d done, about what had happened on Satellite Five. She couldn’t forget his ominous words afterwards in the TARDIS, just before he’d collapsed. She couldn’t forget his accusation that she had caused some kind of ripple in time, and that events would come back to haunt them. Perhaps he had only meant the Sycorax invasion, though given her experiences since meeting him she rather thought that was getting of lightly. But it was less the possible repercussions and more his potential anger that made her hesitant. She remembered how livid he’d been over the Reaper incident with her Dad. She had seen his fury and coldly delivered retribution after Harriet Jones’ annihilation of the Sycorax. That was what had her worried, and why she was avoiding the Doctor.
She had messed with Time, as she’d promised him she would never do again, and she’d done so to commit genocide – even if she didn’t remember it, even if it was just the Daleks who were destroyed. She wondered more and more if the Doctor was really dithering because he still felt poorly, or if he was just waiting until after the holidays to tell her that he preferred wallowing in his own loneliness to traveling with a cock-up like her.
Today was Twelfth Night, the last day of the holidays. It was the day the decorations came down and life returned to normal for another year. She was hiding in the cold at the park because she feared the time was drawing near when her own holiday of the past year would be over, when the Doctor would abandon her to a life of dreaded normalcy.
As if called by her thoughts, she heard a shout in a Northern accent that was increasingly dear to her.
“Oy! What are you doing out here? Do you want to catch your death?” A look of sudden, comic horror crossed his features, “Bugger it. I’m starting to sound like Jackie. The things I go through for you.”
Rose smiled wanly in response as he strode over and sat in the swing next to her. She thought he must be freezing in nothing but a jumper and his beat-up leather jacket, but he didn’t seem to be minding the cold any. She continued to twist about in the swing, studiously avoiding his sharp gaze. It was obvious he had sought her out for a reason, but if it was the reason she feared, she wasn’t going to give him any help with it.
“So…holidays almost over,” he finally began in the disturbingly upbeat way he had when he was making small talk to avoid an uncomfortable issue. She sighed. Yup. This was it.
“Yeah, just about.”
“I think I’ve got the TARDIS back into running shape,” the cheer was fast fading from his voice.
“Mysterious knocks all out then?” her own cheer was forced, “I knew you could do it.”
“Means it’s about time I moved on.” And there it was. He’d said ‘I’. She choked down the tightness in her throat and stood, turning to face him with tears in her eyes.
“Look, Doctor. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I mucked about with Time again, and about the Daleks and everything. But please, let me…If you just take me with you, I’ll do everything I can to make it right. Please, let me try to make it right. Don’t leave me here. Don’t leave me,” she knew she must look a fright. She wasn’t a pretty crier, nose all red and runny and face twisted in a grimace. She sucked in cold air and tried to compose herself. He’d never consider letting her stay on if she turned into a blubbering widgeon.
“Leave you?” His blue eyes were wide with surprise, “What on Earth would I do a thing like that for? Did you think I was going to…Is that why you’ve been lurking about like a mouse with its tail on fire?” he made a tetching noise and stood, grasping her shoulders and shaking her slightly, his tone direct and earnest, “I’ve no intention of leaving you, Rose Tyler. If I had, I would have done already.”
“You…you’re sure?” she ventured, “We’ve stayed here so long, I was sure you were trying to figure out how to get rid of me.”
“I stayed so long because I though it was what you wanted, all this Ho-la-la-la-la-liday cheer with your mum, and Ricky mooning at you from beneath the mistletoe. I told you at the start of it that this was your Christmas present.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. Don’t you remember in the TARDIS? I wished you Happy Christmas.”
“You were practically unconscious,” her look was incredulous. He still had his hands on her shoulders, and she was beginning to feel the usual odd tension about their closeness. She raised a hand to blot away her tears, dislodging his hold in the process, “I didn’t think you knew what you were saying.”
He crossed his arms, “I’m offended. I always know what I’m saying,” she regarded him for a moment, then decided that now was as good a time as any to clear the air between them, especially since it seemed like he wasn’t terribly angry about what she’d done.
“Then…about the other things you said in the TARDIS…”
“What about them? Is that what’s twisting your knickers? Well, I suppose we should talk about it, but do you mind if we do it somewhere warmer? I’m freezing,” she raked a glance over his usual ensemble and raised one brow. He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, “What?”
“You come out like that, and then complain about freezing? I’m just thinking that maybe your fashion-for-all-seasons wardrobe could do with a bit of tinkering.”
He adjusted the lapels of his coat proudly, “I like the sleek look, me. Now c’mon. There’s a chips shop ‘round the corner,” he held out his hand to her, and she took it in giddy relief as they made their way from the playground. Whatever threats loomed, the Doctor was still her Doctor. All was right with the world.
Rating: NC17 (eventually)
Media: Doctor Who (Season 2 AU)
Characters: Nine/Rose
Summary: In an infinite Universe nothing is set and everything is possible, but in choosing an alternate route there are always repercussions.
Spoilers: Doctor Who, New Seasons 1 & 2, Old Season 16
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, but I wouldn't mind ten minutes alone in the TARDIS
Archive: At A Teaspoon and an Open Mind. If you want it, check with me first.
It had been an eventful Christmas, to say the least.
Rose idly twisted back and forth on one of the swings in a deserted playground near Powell Estates. Snow – real snow this time, not the macabre ash that had drifted from the sky on Christmas – crunched beneath the soles of her wellies. It was a weekday, and the cold plus the start of the school term meant that she had the playground to herself. The quiet solitude was a welcome break after the never-ending revolving door of her mum’s flat. It was the first time she’d managed to get away on her own since arriving.
The Doctor had been notably absent since Boxing Day, mostly puttering around under the TARDIS’ console. He claimed that he was fixing the damage she’d done during her “Monster Truck Rally business”, but she had a feeling that he was still weaker than he let on. Every so often she saw a bit of strain in his eyes, a slight hitch in his gait. She wondered if this was the reason he hadn’t moved on yet, and not the mysterious knocking sound he supposedly could hear coming from the TARDIS’ inner workings. Given how her mum had taken to cosseting and scolding him by turns, and how he seemed too distracted to tell her off, he must still be feeling poorly.
Of course, given how her mum had been nagging at her, and the doleful glances that Mickey kept shooting her way, Rose was tempted to move back into her room on the TARDIS herself, just for some peace and quiet. She was starting to understand why the Doctor didn’t do domestic.
She didn’t move back, though. In fact, she had been surreptitiously avoiding the Doctor. Through all the excitement of the Sycorax invasion, the holidays, and the Doctor’s illness, they had avoided talking about what she’d done, about what had happened on Satellite Five. She couldn’t forget his ominous words afterwards in the TARDIS, just before he’d collapsed. She couldn’t forget his accusation that she had caused some kind of ripple in time, and that events would come back to haunt them. Perhaps he had only meant the Sycorax invasion, though given her experiences since meeting him she rather thought that was getting of lightly. But it was less the possible repercussions and more his potential anger that made her hesitant. She remembered how livid he’d been over the Reaper incident with her Dad. She had seen his fury and coldly delivered retribution after Harriet Jones’ annihilation of the Sycorax. That was what had her worried, and why she was avoiding the Doctor.
She had messed with Time, as she’d promised him she would never do again, and she’d done so to commit genocide – even if she didn’t remember it, even if it was just the Daleks who were destroyed. She wondered more and more if the Doctor was really dithering because he still felt poorly, or if he was just waiting until after the holidays to tell her that he preferred wallowing in his own loneliness to traveling with a cock-up like her.
Today was Twelfth Night, the last day of the holidays. It was the day the decorations came down and life returned to normal for another year. She was hiding in the cold at the park because she feared the time was drawing near when her own holiday of the past year would be over, when the Doctor would abandon her to a life of dreaded normalcy.
As if called by her thoughts, she heard a shout in a Northern accent that was increasingly dear to her.
“Oy! What are you doing out here? Do you want to catch your death?” A look of sudden, comic horror crossed his features, “Bugger it. I’m starting to sound like Jackie. The things I go through for you.”
Rose smiled wanly in response as he strode over and sat in the swing next to her. She thought he must be freezing in nothing but a jumper and his beat-up leather jacket, but he didn’t seem to be minding the cold any. She continued to twist about in the swing, studiously avoiding his sharp gaze. It was obvious he had sought her out for a reason, but if it was the reason she feared, she wasn’t going to give him any help with it.
“So…holidays almost over,” he finally began in the disturbingly upbeat way he had when he was making small talk to avoid an uncomfortable issue. She sighed. Yup. This was it.
“Yeah, just about.”
“I think I’ve got the TARDIS back into running shape,” the cheer was fast fading from his voice.
“Mysterious knocks all out then?” her own cheer was forced, “I knew you could do it.”
“Means it’s about time I moved on.” And there it was. He’d said ‘I’. She choked down the tightness in her throat and stood, turning to face him with tears in her eyes.
“Look, Doctor. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I mucked about with Time again, and about the Daleks and everything. But please, let me…If you just take me with you, I’ll do everything I can to make it right. Please, let me try to make it right. Don’t leave me here. Don’t leave me,” she knew she must look a fright. She wasn’t a pretty crier, nose all red and runny and face twisted in a grimace. She sucked in cold air and tried to compose herself. He’d never consider letting her stay on if she turned into a blubbering widgeon.
“Leave you?” His blue eyes were wide with surprise, “What on Earth would I do a thing like that for? Did you think I was going to…Is that why you’ve been lurking about like a mouse with its tail on fire?” he made a tetching noise and stood, grasping her shoulders and shaking her slightly, his tone direct and earnest, “I’ve no intention of leaving you, Rose Tyler. If I had, I would have done already.”
“You…you’re sure?” she ventured, “We’ve stayed here so long, I was sure you were trying to figure out how to get rid of me.”
“I stayed so long because I though it was what you wanted, all this Ho-la-la-la-la-liday cheer with your mum, and Ricky mooning at you from beneath the mistletoe. I told you at the start of it that this was your Christmas present.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. Don’t you remember in the TARDIS? I wished you Happy Christmas.”
“You were practically unconscious,” her look was incredulous. He still had his hands on her shoulders, and she was beginning to feel the usual odd tension about their closeness. She raised a hand to blot away her tears, dislodging his hold in the process, “I didn’t think you knew what you were saying.”
He crossed his arms, “I’m offended. I always know what I’m saying,” she regarded him for a moment, then decided that now was as good a time as any to clear the air between them, especially since it seemed like he wasn’t terribly angry about what she’d done.
“Then…about the other things you said in the TARDIS…”
“What about them? Is that what’s twisting your knickers? Well, I suppose we should talk about it, but do you mind if we do it somewhere warmer? I’m freezing,” she raked a glance over his usual ensemble and raised one brow. He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, “What?”
“You come out like that, and then complain about freezing? I’m just thinking that maybe your fashion-for-all-seasons wardrobe could do with a bit of tinkering.”
He adjusted the lapels of his coat proudly, “I like the sleek look, me. Now c’mon. There’s a chips shop ‘round the corner,” he held out his hand to her, and she took it in giddy relief as they made their way from the playground. Whatever threats loomed, the Doctor was still her Doctor. All was right with the world.