DR WHO FIC: A Mother's Love
Title: A Mother’s Love
Author: charlottetrips
Rating: PG-13
Genre: fluff, angst, crack
Characters, Pairings: 10/Rose, Jackie/Pete
Author’s Note: This is slightly angsty, slightly fluffy and slightly crackily. It seems I couldn’t decide this morning what I wanted to write!
Summary: From a prompt from who_in_whoville from this post: Doomsday scene, “You’re not…?” and she is.
“Rose, honey, you’ve got to push!”
Despite the fact that she’s not slept in over 24 hours, that her breathing’s been a bit ragged for the better part of 8 and the darkness surrounding her, the weight of hard-packed earth creating hundred of meters of barriers between her and the open sky-despite all of this, Rose still finds it within her to bite the doctor’s head off.
“I am pushing, you heartless bitch!” All right, so maybe the insult comes out a little less fierce than she meant it to (lacking the air to do so) but for a moment there, Rose felt better being able to get something out.
Claire, Torchwood’s resident doctor, ignores Rose’s words. “That’s right, keep pushing.” Her voice is implacable and unperturbed.
Jackie on the other hand: “Rose! Rose, darling, you’re doing fine, you’re doing great! Do you need anything? Tea? Water? An epidural?”
Her frantic movements at Rose’s side heighten her irritation and she makes a vicious grab for her mother’s shirt, bringing her surprised face down to hers.
“Get me the Doctor,” this time the words come out on a satisfyingly violent growl.
*.*
“…and the baby.” Rose’s smile is tender and sad all at once and he feels his hearts stop and drop to his stomach.
“You’re not…?” He doesn’t want her to be, but at the same time, there’s an empty spot in his chest that’s been bereft of small innocence for far too long, burned up in a battle long ago. Does he want her to be? Yes, he admits to himself, because he’s selfish enough to want her to have a part of him.
Her small nod has anguish and ecstatic joy rushing through his bones and he can’t help the wide grin that appears on his face. She laughs through her tears and automatically reaches out to hug him, to touch him, a special moment ruined by the fact that he’s in his universe and she’s in another and they can’t touch.
Her laugh turns into a sob and he finds himself reaching for her but stops just before he would’ve touched her face. Her face tilts and her eyes close as if she’s feeling his touch and his happy grin turns into a gentle smile. Her clear brown gaze locks on his own. “I love you.” The words are a balm to his troubled soul.
“And I suppose, if this is the last chance I’ll get to say it, Rose Tyler, I-“ And his world is reduced to the warm interior of his TARDIS, no stinging winds rushing across waves and playing with blonde hair, no Rose Tyler standing before him. He wipes his eyes.
Correction: No pregnant Rose Tyler standing before him.
*.*
He’s managed. It’s the most he can say. He’s managed not to destroy Earth. He’s managed to save another damsel in distress, in a wedding dress of all things. He’s managed not to kill himself. He’s also managed not to destroy the whole of reality by trying what he’s been trying for the past year.
After Donna and her gentle encouragement to find someone, he’d sat in the control room for a long time thinking about that. Then with rapid-fire energy, he’d snapped on his thinking glasses and run to the library. Because he didn’t need to find someone else, he just needed to find her.
There are times, in all his calculations and his experiments when he finds himself standing in the car lot of the Powell Estates, staring up. Up at Rose Tyler’s old flat and thinking.
Thinking of those two weeks with her, when he’d finally allowed himself to feel for her, to let down his own barriers and those barriers that had been ingrained in him hundreds of years ago. He knows that humans aren’t inferior or less than he. Sure, they’re a bit newer but he knows the greatness that they are capable of. A greatness that seems to be encapsulated in one petite figured girl.
He remembers nights spent in her room, in his, in the library and one deliciously wicked day in the control room. He smiles, as always, even these moments of pleasure clouded over with sadness.
The slap comes from nowhere and he falls to the ground, astonishment running through him. There’s only one woman who could slap him like that.
“Bloody hell! You’re difficult to find!” Jackie Tyler stands over him, much better dressed than he remembers, her make-up toned down to more natural colors, her hair more brown than blonde. Her hands are clutching a circular device, smaller than the jumps that he remembers from Torchwood 1 but clearly the same type of device.
She glances down at the device, frowning heavily at it. The Doctor takes this moment to warily get up off the ground and straighten before her, angling himself so that he can look at her and around her. How did she-? Where did she-? Is she with-? His mouth so far has only been able to form one, “What?” before her direct gaze is piercing him once more.
“Which Doctor are you? Do you remember me? Do you remember Rose? Canary Wharf? Her pregnancy?” He’s been nodding in response to her questions when her last one hits him and he stops mid nod, the pain/regret/joy feeling flooding him once more. It’s a subject he’s tried not to ponder on for too long as this mixture of emotions would soon cause him to implode.
His reaction seems to satisfy her, like he’s passed some sort of test and she grabs his sleeve of that coat she hates and presses down on the dimensional jump before he can get out: “Wait!”
He stumbles forward as they land back in the Powell Estates and for a moment, he allows himself to hope that Jackie didn’t just break through the walls of space and start a chain reaction that would take out the whole of existence when he looks up at the sky and sees zeppelins overhead. He closes his eyes for a moment and silently groans and musters himself together to deliver a dressing down that Jackie really needs (volatile emotion has been a bit foreign to him for awhile).
But he loses his chance as Jackie once again takes hold of his arm and guides him to a rope ladder that has fallen from above. She effectively stops all scolding and Time Lordy righteous anger with five words: “Rose is having the baby”.
He’s taken to Torchwood and ushered through the reception, down long corridors and winding stairs to find himself at Level G3 of the Torchwood Institute of Pete’s world. The first thing he hears from his long-lost beloved’s voice is, “Doctor! I’m going to kill you!” and he promptly turns around to make his way to the exit but is stopped by Mickey, Jake and Jackie who turn him right back around and push him towards the room Rose is currently cursing out of existence.
She’s on an elevated table, her blonde hair in disarray, sticking to her face with sweat, her teeth clenched and her eyes shut. Her hands are fists at her sides and there’s a woman before her, murmuring words of encouragement. He glances at the doctor and takes in the concerned look in her eyes and suddenly all the emotions of the past hour, the doubts and reservations, the complete miserableness of his past year fall away because he knows what he needs to do.
He moves up next to Rose and places his hands at her temple. Her eyes open wide and focus on him, filling with tears almost immediately. He can feel his own welling up and he smiles. “Hey. Long time no see.”
She gives a weak laugh at this. “Doctor, I think I hate you.” There’s no heat in the statement. He nods and brings his forehead down to hers, his breath mingling with hers.
“There’s something I can do for you, something I should be doing for you since you’re having our child. Will you let me?” His voice is gentle, he wants it to be her choice, as it’s always been. She nods.
He opens his mind to hers, feeling hers open to his and all those empty spots he’s been carrying, fill. Fill with her memories, her love, his unconfronted past and their future.
*.*
Jackie smiles from the doorway at the small but happy family. Rose is sitting up on the bed, cradling little Emma to her while the Doctor sits next to her, his arm wrapped around them both. Their heads are crowded over the little girl, cooing and counting fingers and toes and eyes. She’s perfect and she’s a miracle.
She feels Pete move up next to her and glances at him over her shoulder, her smile falling away as she takes in his serious expression.
“Jackie, you have some explaining to do…”
Author: charlottetrips
Rating: PG-13
Genre: fluff, angst, crack
Characters, Pairings: 10/Rose, Jackie/Pete
Author’s Note: This is slightly angsty, slightly fluffy and slightly crackily. It seems I couldn’t decide this morning what I wanted to write!
Summary: From a prompt from who_in_whoville from this post: Doomsday scene, “You’re not…?” and she is.
“Rose, honey, you’ve got to push!”
Despite the fact that she’s not slept in over 24 hours, that her breathing’s been a bit ragged for the better part of 8 and the darkness surrounding her, the weight of hard-packed earth creating hundred of meters of barriers between her and the open sky-despite all of this, Rose still finds it within her to bite the doctor’s head off.
“I am pushing, you heartless bitch!” All right, so maybe the insult comes out a little less fierce than she meant it to (lacking the air to do so) but for a moment there, Rose felt better being able to get something out.
Claire, Torchwood’s resident doctor, ignores Rose’s words. “That’s right, keep pushing.” Her voice is implacable and unperturbed.
Jackie on the other hand: “Rose! Rose, darling, you’re doing fine, you’re doing great! Do you need anything? Tea? Water? An epidural?”
Her frantic movements at Rose’s side heighten her irritation and she makes a vicious grab for her mother’s shirt, bringing her surprised face down to hers.
“Get me the Doctor,” this time the words come out on a satisfyingly violent growl.
*.*
“…and the baby.” Rose’s smile is tender and sad all at once and he feels his hearts stop and drop to his stomach.
“You’re not…?” He doesn’t want her to be, but at the same time, there’s an empty spot in his chest that’s been bereft of small innocence for far too long, burned up in a battle long ago. Does he want her to be? Yes, he admits to himself, because he’s selfish enough to want her to have a part of him.
Her small nod has anguish and ecstatic joy rushing through his bones and he can’t help the wide grin that appears on his face. She laughs through her tears and automatically reaches out to hug him, to touch him, a special moment ruined by the fact that he’s in his universe and she’s in another and they can’t touch.
Her laugh turns into a sob and he finds himself reaching for her but stops just before he would’ve touched her face. Her face tilts and her eyes close as if she’s feeling his touch and his happy grin turns into a gentle smile. Her clear brown gaze locks on his own. “I love you.” The words are a balm to his troubled soul.
“And I suppose, if this is the last chance I’ll get to say it, Rose Tyler, I-“ And his world is reduced to the warm interior of his TARDIS, no stinging winds rushing across waves and playing with blonde hair, no Rose Tyler standing before him. He wipes his eyes.
Correction: No pregnant Rose Tyler standing before him.
*.*
He’s managed. It’s the most he can say. He’s managed not to destroy Earth. He’s managed to save another damsel in distress, in a wedding dress of all things. He’s managed not to kill himself. He’s also managed not to destroy the whole of reality by trying what he’s been trying for the past year.
After Donna and her gentle encouragement to find someone, he’d sat in the control room for a long time thinking about that. Then with rapid-fire energy, he’d snapped on his thinking glasses and run to the library. Because he didn’t need to find someone else, he just needed to find her.
There are times, in all his calculations and his experiments when he finds himself standing in the car lot of the Powell Estates, staring up. Up at Rose Tyler’s old flat and thinking.
Thinking of those two weeks with her, when he’d finally allowed himself to feel for her, to let down his own barriers and those barriers that had been ingrained in him hundreds of years ago. He knows that humans aren’t inferior or less than he. Sure, they’re a bit newer but he knows the greatness that they are capable of. A greatness that seems to be encapsulated in one petite figured girl.
He remembers nights spent in her room, in his, in the library and one deliciously wicked day in the control room. He smiles, as always, even these moments of pleasure clouded over with sadness.
The slap comes from nowhere and he falls to the ground, astonishment running through him. There’s only one woman who could slap him like that.
“Bloody hell! You’re difficult to find!” Jackie Tyler stands over him, much better dressed than he remembers, her make-up toned down to more natural colors, her hair more brown than blonde. Her hands are clutching a circular device, smaller than the jumps that he remembers from Torchwood 1 but clearly the same type of device.
She glances down at the device, frowning heavily at it. The Doctor takes this moment to warily get up off the ground and straighten before her, angling himself so that he can look at her and around her. How did she-? Where did she-? Is she with-? His mouth so far has only been able to form one, “What?” before her direct gaze is piercing him once more.
“Which Doctor are you? Do you remember me? Do you remember Rose? Canary Wharf? Her pregnancy?” He’s been nodding in response to her questions when her last one hits him and he stops mid nod, the pain/regret/joy feeling flooding him once more. It’s a subject he’s tried not to ponder on for too long as this mixture of emotions would soon cause him to implode.
His reaction seems to satisfy her, like he’s passed some sort of test and she grabs his sleeve of that coat she hates and presses down on the dimensional jump before he can get out: “Wait!”
He stumbles forward as they land back in the Powell Estates and for a moment, he allows himself to hope that Jackie didn’t just break through the walls of space and start a chain reaction that would take out the whole of existence when he looks up at the sky and sees zeppelins overhead. He closes his eyes for a moment and silently groans and musters himself together to deliver a dressing down that Jackie really needs (volatile emotion has been a bit foreign to him for awhile).
But he loses his chance as Jackie once again takes hold of his arm and guides him to a rope ladder that has fallen from above. She effectively stops all scolding and Time Lordy righteous anger with five words: “Rose is having the baby”.
He’s taken to Torchwood and ushered through the reception, down long corridors and winding stairs to find himself at Level G3 of the Torchwood Institute of Pete’s world. The first thing he hears from his long-lost beloved’s voice is, “Doctor! I’m going to kill you!” and he promptly turns around to make his way to the exit but is stopped by Mickey, Jake and Jackie who turn him right back around and push him towards the room Rose is currently cursing out of existence.
She’s on an elevated table, her blonde hair in disarray, sticking to her face with sweat, her teeth clenched and her eyes shut. Her hands are fists at her sides and there’s a woman before her, murmuring words of encouragement. He glances at the doctor and takes in the concerned look in her eyes and suddenly all the emotions of the past hour, the doubts and reservations, the complete miserableness of his past year fall away because he knows what he needs to do.
He moves up next to Rose and places his hands at her temple. Her eyes open wide and focus on him, filling with tears almost immediately. He can feel his own welling up and he smiles. “Hey. Long time no see.”
She gives a weak laugh at this. “Doctor, I think I hate you.” There’s no heat in the statement. He nods and brings his forehead down to hers, his breath mingling with hers.
“There’s something I can do for you, something I should be doing for you since you’re having our child. Will you let me?” His voice is gentle, he wants it to be her choice, as it’s always been. She nods.
He opens his mind to hers, feeling hers open to his and all those empty spots he’s been carrying, fill. Fill with her memories, her love, his unconfronted past and their future.
*.*
Jackie smiles from the doorway at the small but happy family. Rose is sitting up on the bed, cradling little Emma to her while the Doctor sits next to her, his arm wrapped around them both. Their heads are crowded over the little girl, cooing and counting fingers and toes and eyes. She’s perfect and she’s a miracle.
She feels Pete move up next to her and glances at him over her shoulder, her smile falling away as she takes in his serious expression.
“Jackie, you have some explaining to do…”