A Beautiful Disaster: Chapter 4
An AU look at Human Nature/Family of Blood with a season 1 twist. Inspired by "Catalyst," by Anna Nalick.
It features Rose/9, Jack Harkness
A/N: Nothing you recognize belongs to me!
( Chapter One )( Chapter Two )( Chapter Three )
He blinked. She kissed him. She kissed him. She kissed him? His brain was working overtime, which for him was an impressive feat, considering how fast it usually worked. He had been hyper-aware of her as he walked her home. Every movement, every sound tingled across his nerves like electricity. Throwing those idiots out of the Big Bad Wolf sent adrenaline coursing through him, and when she pressed her lips to his cheek he wasn't sure if he wanted to pull her against him and kiss her properly or run for his life. Both seemed appropriate, but he had been so startled that he'd been unable to react at all. It was just his cheek, an irritated voice snapped inside his head. His logic, perhaps? Or was he just a little madder than he previously thought? It was just his cheek, and she did the same to Jack, Jack-who-wasn't-her-boyfriend. That was good, though, right? He wasn't looking to be her boyfriend; he was just making sure that those tossers didn't come back and try to get her alone. They were the worst kind of people, the kind who thought that their position in life allowed them to break rules without regard for consequences. And if they touched her there would be consequences-severe consequences.
He was standing on a beach. Gravel crunched beneath his study black boots and an icy wind whipped around him. He did not feel it. The comforting weight of his leather jacket was all the protection from the elements that he needed. Jack walked on his left and his right hand was wrapped around another smaller, gloved hand. He glanced over and smiled at Rose. She was bundled up in a parka and a thick knitted cap. A matching scarf swathed her face and hung down reminiscent of one he had worn in a previous lifetime. The cold pinked her cheeks and the tip of her nose and her eyes were wide with wonder. Frozen waves rose in front of them-huge breakers stilled in an instant of turmoil. The sun shone brightly in the clear blue sky and reflected off the ice with blinding intensity. Reflections and refractions danced across the ice and turned it into a sea of diamond.
It was not half as beautiful as she looked, standing on an alien world, her cheeks pink and her eyes wide and her smile outshining the sun. Jack was gone, wandered off somewhere. He told them, three rules: Don't wander off, Don't ask stupid questions, and do what he told them. They listened well enough, and then did what they wanted anyway. He wondered why he bothered making rules when his companions insisted on breaking them. He wondered why he bothered making rules when he only wanted to break them-to tilt her chin up and cover her lips with his own and show her that he had the moves-that he was more than able to dance.
His hands itched to touch her more fully than her parka would allow. He kept his left at his side and his right wrapped around hers. He promised he would keep her safe, not out loud, of course. He couldn't lie to her mother like that even if the woman was a bit of a harpy. She loved her daughter and wanted her safe. It was not an unreasonable request, and in the silence of his soul he'd agreed, he'd vowed to protect her, even if it meant protecting her from himself. He was a dangerous man. Death and destruction followed him like his own shadow, and he would not let it touch her.
He was pulled from his thoughts by her arm around him and the press of her parka-covered body against his own. "Thanks," she whispered as he returned the hug. "It's gorgeous." He held her gently, not too close so she wouldn't feel his hearts pounding in his chest. So are you, he wanted to say, but he didn't. A coward every time.
She showed up at the shop as the other mechanics were leaving for their lunch break. He wasn't much for lunch-most of the others went down to the pub for a bite and a chat, or to catch a bit of a match. They asked too many questions that he wasn't going to answer. His silence made them uncomfortable and their chatter irritated him, so he stayed in the shop. Sometimes he ate, sometimes he didn't. It was one of those tedious necessities, like sleep, that he often forgot. Ana used to tease him about it, his distaste for the mechanics of living.
Humans need sleep, John. How her eyes used to sparkle.
I'll sleep when I'm dead. He was wrong. He slept while she died.
He shook his head to clear out the ghosts. Rose was here and Ana was not. "Checking up on the car?" he asked with an eyebrow raised.
She shook her head and held up a paper sack. "Brought lunch." She smiled at him then, almost shyly, more hesitant than he'd seen her before. "Humans need to eat."
Lunch was chips and a couple sandwiches from the pub. She pulled out two bottles of soda and set them on the ground. They were sitting in the shop, the lobby being too open for either of their tastes. She handed him one wrapped sandwich and he blinked as he peeled away the paper. How did she know what he liked? They never talked about sandwiches (and why would they-far too domestic). It was one more strange thing about her, one more note he added to the mental list of things that he knew about Rose Tyler. She took the orange soda and left the cola for him-one more item she knew without explanation. He filed it away with the sandwich bit. They ate in silence for a while, but it was companionable, not strained.
"You were right," he said after he finished his sandwich and started on the accompanying chips. She blinked as if she didn't hear that often. Interesting. "About the car," he clarified. She smiled then the way people do when they catch you in an assumption. "Meant to ask you last night," he went on. "Where did you learn about cars?"
Rose leaned back against the cool cement of the wall. "Dated a mechanic for a few years," she replied. "You pick things up, even if you don't want to." A wry smile flitted across her face.
"Past tense?" Did he really just ask that out loud? What happened to scaring her away? What happened to keeping his distance?
She blinked at him again. "What?"
"Dated," he replied. In for a penny, in for a pound. Another confusing human idiom, at least, confusing to anyone who was unfamiliar with British currency.
"Oh. Yeah." She was confused again. Really, where did she get off being confused? She was the one sending all sorts of mixed signals his way. "I had this chance to go traveling," she continued. "Once in a lifetime opportunity." She dropped her crumpled sandwich wrapper into the empty paper bag and pulled her knees up under her chin. She wrapped her arms around her legs and clutched them to her chest. "He wanted to stay still, and I just…I couldn't."
He knew that feeling, knew it like the callouses on his hands and the creases in his jacket. He hated being still, couldn't stand being in one place for any longer than he absolutely had to. Money brought him to a halt, drove him to settle down until he could earn enough to fund his wandering. He had friends he could turn to, people from his past. The Brigadier would take him in, but he didn't need any reminder of his days as a soldier. Sarah Jane was around somewhere, but she didn't need and old flame intruding on her life again. She had gone; she moved on. Everyone seemed to move on, but him, even though he never stopped moving. It was like he was running in place.
"So what's a London girl like you doing here?" he asked her in an effort to distract himself from his thoughts.
She sighed. "Waiting. Got a friend we travel with-me and Jack-but he was held up. He's sort of our designated driver, 's his ship n'all, so we're stuck." She laid her head on top of her knees and stared at the street beyond the open door of the garage. "I'm not good at this," she said finally, frustration sharpening her voice. "I'm not good at waiting any more. 'Sall I did for the first nineteen years of my life, but then he came along." Her face softened and her yes became distant and John knew that she was lost in a memory. "An' it was fantastic. He showed me things that I never would have seen in London, not in a thousand million years. We met all sorts of people, Jack included, and we did mad, brilliant things. But then he went and got himself caught, and we're left sittin' here waiting."
He empathized. "Me too." It was his turn to lean back as she shifted her eyes to focus on him. "I've been a traveler all my life. Never could stand to sit still." He gestured expansively to the world beyond the garage. "There's so much out there. Who wouldn't want to see it?"
"Why'd you stop?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Money. Can't travel without it."
She laughed. "I wish my friend believed that!" He looked at her blankly. "He's not very good with domestics-like money-either," she clarified. "Every time we get chips, and I try to get them in every port, I pay."
John blinked. "So you travel around with two blokes and what, look after them?"
"Someone's got to," she said with a shrug. "Jack was with the Agency for too long-doesn't think more than a week in advance, and the Doctor…" her voice trailed off and the faraway look reasserted itself. "He doesn't think about it at all. Too focused on his ship." She sighed. "It's the only female he's remotely interested in," she continued dryly.
"He's a doctor, your friend?" The one that makes you smile, the one that steals your thoughts away. John felt absurdly like he was competing, even though they were alone. You can't win when you fight with a memory. People don't remember the hardships, the fights, the little annoyances that drove them mad. They remember the good times, the happiness, the moments they would kill to have back. Or at least, he did.
"Yeah," she replied. "Not that kind of doctor, though." Rose paused, frowning. "Come to think of it, I'm not sure what kind of doctor he is. Just calls himself that, like Jack's 'the Captain.'"
"But it's the Doctor's ship," John asserted, confused.
Rose laughed. "Yeah. He was a Captain when we found him."
"What about his ship?" Or was it a military rank? Did it have to do with the Agency? That name screamed covert ops or paramilitary. Was he some kind of terrorist? Color him crazy, but he didn't get that vibe off of the man. He was shady all right, but not in a bloody kind of way, not like a traitor.
"It blew up," she replied matter-of-factly. "So we asked him to come with us. Well," she amended, "I asked and the Doctor sort of let him."
"It blew up," he repeated. "You do lead an interesting life."
"He likes to blow things up, the Doctor does," she said with a grin. "He blew my job up." Rose relaxed a bit and straightened her legs out, resting her back against the cement wall. "It was lovely," she continued dreamily. "God, I hated that place."
John raised an eyebrow. "So he's an arsonist?"
She shook her head emphatically. "He only does it when he has to. Jack's ship was sort of an accident, but there were these-people, and they were going to use the building to hurt the city, so he blew it up. It was after-hours. There was no one there besides me." She smiled. "He saved my life."
It was damned difficult to compete with that. Not, he asserted, that he was competing. He wasn't interested in her like that; he just wanted to make sure that she was safe. Running around with dangerous blokes was questionable for a woman of any age, but she was young and naive. She didn't need anyone taking advantage of her.
"An' now you're here," John said after the pause stretched out, bordering on uncomfortable.
"Five more months and then we're off," she replied too quickly to have made calculations. She kept a mental countdown going. He did the same. He was surprised to note that theirs were running at the same pace.
"Why not wait in London?" he asked, voicing a question that had been bouncing about in his mind. "You must have family-friends. Sure they'd love a visit."
Rose grimaced. "Just my mum and Mickey-the mechanic." He was suddenly glad that she was here and not in London. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. "Thought about it. Mum doesn't like me traveling-thinks it's 'inappropriate' for me to knock about with a couple of older men." She rolled her eyes. "Thinks it's giving me 'airs and graces.'" She repeated the words like they were a common complaint. "If I went home, I'd have to listen to that for five months, and it's more than enough to drive me barking. Really, though…it's like, like I don't fit there anymore." Her voice was soft, hesitant. He waited patiently for her to work it out, well, maybe not patiently, but he kept silent. "I've seen beautiful things and terrible things-things that'll give me nightmares until I die and things that make me want to cry they're so wonderful. An' all of that-it made me different. I'm not Rose Tyler, shopgirl anymore. But them," she shrugged. "They stayed the same and now-now it's wrong. 'Slike I'm a stranger in my own home. I make mum nervous." She laughed. "Imagine that. My mum and she's nervous around me. No. I'm more comfortable in a bar fulla strangers than I am in the flat I grew up in." She turned her wide, open eyes on him and he felt like she could see into his soul. "Does that make me a bad person?"
She was asking him this? A man she hardly knew, who by his own confession never stayed in any one place for long at all? A man who had pinned her up against the wall and frightened her in a futile effort to scare her off? "No," he replied. What else could he say? "People change. 'Scalled growing up, and everyone leaves home in the end." He covered her hand with his own in an attempt to reassure. "Your mum isn't cut out for your life, but it's not hers. It's yours and you are, and that's fantastic."
She smiled at him then like he was so impressive, like he was worth something, and warmth seemed to radiate from within him, to reach into the cold, hard places where hurt and anger festered and sooth them away. She moved through his life with the force of a hurricane. She was a beautiful disaster waiting to happen, and he wouldn't have it any other way. He was a goner, but oh, what a way to go.
( Chapter Five )
It features Rose/9, Jack Harkness
A/N: Nothing you recognize belongs to me!
( Chapter One )( Chapter Two )( Chapter Three )
He blinked. She kissed him. She kissed him. She kissed him? His brain was working overtime, which for him was an impressive feat, considering how fast it usually worked. He had been hyper-aware of her as he walked her home. Every movement, every sound tingled across his nerves like electricity. Throwing those idiots out of the Big Bad Wolf sent adrenaline coursing through him, and when she pressed her lips to his cheek he wasn't sure if he wanted to pull her against him and kiss her properly or run for his life. Both seemed appropriate, but he had been so startled that he'd been unable to react at all. It was just his cheek, an irritated voice snapped inside his head. His logic, perhaps? Or was he just a little madder than he previously thought? It was just his cheek, and she did the same to Jack, Jack-who-wasn't-her-boyfriend. That was good, though, right? He wasn't looking to be her boyfriend; he was just making sure that those tossers didn't come back and try to get her alone. They were the worst kind of people, the kind who thought that their position in life allowed them to break rules without regard for consequences. And if they touched her there would be consequences-severe consequences.
He was standing on a beach. Gravel crunched beneath his study black boots and an icy wind whipped around him. He did not feel it. The comforting weight of his leather jacket was all the protection from the elements that he needed. Jack walked on his left and his right hand was wrapped around another smaller, gloved hand. He glanced over and smiled at Rose. She was bundled up in a parka and a thick knitted cap. A matching scarf swathed her face and hung down reminiscent of one he had worn in a previous lifetime. The cold pinked her cheeks and the tip of her nose and her eyes were wide with wonder. Frozen waves rose in front of them-huge breakers stilled in an instant of turmoil. The sun shone brightly in the clear blue sky and reflected off the ice with blinding intensity. Reflections and refractions danced across the ice and turned it into a sea of diamond.
It was not half as beautiful as she looked, standing on an alien world, her cheeks pink and her eyes wide and her smile outshining the sun. Jack was gone, wandered off somewhere. He told them, three rules: Don't wander off, Don't ask stupid questions, and do what he told them. They listened well enough, and then did what they wanted anyway. He wondered why he bothered making rules when his companions insisted on breaking them. He wondered why he bothered making rules when he only wanted to break them-to tilt her chin up and cover her lips with his own and show her that he had the moves-that he was more than able to dance.
His hands itched to touch her more fully than her parka would allow. He kept his left at his side and his right wrapped around hers. He promised he would keep her safe, not out loud, of course. He couldn't lie to her mother like that even if the woman was a bit of a harpy. She loved her daughter and wanted her safe. It was not an unreasonable request, and in the silence of his soul he'd agreed, he'd vowed to protect her, even if it meant protecting her from himself. He was a dangerous man. Death and destruction followed him like his own shadow, and he would not let it touch her.
He was pulled from his thoughts by her arm around him and the press of her parka-covered body against his own. "Thanks," she whispered as he returned the hug. "It's gorgeous." He held her gently, not too close so she wouldn't feel his hearts pounding in his chest. So are you, he wanted to say, but he didn't. A coward every time.
She showed up at the shop as the other mechanics were leaving for their lunch break. He wasn't much for lunch-most of the others went down to the pub for a bite and a chat, or to catch a bit of a match. They asked too many questions that he wasn't going to answer. His silence made them uncomfortable and their chatter irritated him, so he stayed in the shop. Sometimes he ate, sometimes he didn't. It was one of those tedious necessities, like sleep, that he often forgot. Ana used to tease him about it, his distaste for the mechanics of living.
Humans need sleep, John. How her eyes used to sparkle.
I'll sleep when I'm dead. He was wrong. He slept while she died.
He shook his head to clear out the ghosts. Rose was here and Ana was not. "Checking up on the car?" he asked with an eyebrow raised.
She shook her head and held up a paper sack. "Brought lunch." She smiled at him then, almost shyly, more hesitant than he'd seen her before. "Humans need to eat."
Lunch was chips and a couple sandwiches from the pub. She pulled out two bottles of soda and set them on the ground. They were sitting in the shop, the lobby being too open for either of their tastes. She handed him one wrapped sandwich and he blinked as he peeled away the paper. How did she know what he liked? They never talked about sandwiches (and why would they-far too domestic). It was one more strange thing about her, one more note he added to the mental list of things that he knew about Rose Tyler. She took the orange soda and left the cola for him-one more item she knew without explanation. He filed it away with the sandwich bit. They ate in silence for a while, but it was companionable, not strained.
"You were right," he said after he finished his sandwich and started on the accompanying chips. She blinked as if she didn't hear that often. Interesting. "About the car," he clarified. She smiled then the way people do when they catch you in an assumption. "Meant to ask you last night," he went on. "Where did you learn about cars?"
Rose leaned back against the cool cement of the wall. "Dated a mechanic for a few years," she replied. "You pick things up, even if you don't want to." A wry smile flitted across her face.
"Past tense?" Did he really just ask that out loud? What happened to scaring her away? What happened to keeping his distance?
She blinked at him again. "What?"
"Dated," he replied. In for a penny, in for a pound. Another confusing human idiom, at least, confusing to anyone who was unfamiliar with British currency.
"Oh. Yeah." She was confused again. Really, where did she get off being confused? She was the one sending all sorts of mixed signals his way. "I had this chance to go traveling," she continued. "Once in a lifetime opportunity." She dropped her crumpled sandwich wrapper into the empty paper bag and pulled her knees up under her chin. She wrapped her arms around her legs and clutched them to her chest. "He wanted to stay still, and I just…I couldn't."
He knew that feeling, knew it like the callouses on his hands and the creases in his jacket. He hated being still, couldn't stand being in one place for any longer than he absolutely had to. Money brought him to a halt, drove him to settle down until he could earn enough to fund his wandering. He had friends he could turn to, people from his past. The Brigadier would take him in, but he didn't need any reminder of his days as a soldier. Sarah Jane was around somewhere, but she didn't need and old flame intruding on her life again. She had gone; she moved on. Everyone seemed to move on, but him, even though he never stopped moving. It was like he was running in place.
"So what's a London girl like you doing here?" he asked her in an effort to distract himself from his thoughts.
She sighed. "Waiting. Got a friend we travel with-me and Jack-but he was held up. He's sort of our designated driver, 's his ship n'all, so we're stuck." She laid her head on top of her knees and stared at the street beyond the open door of the garage. "I'm not good at this," she said finally, frustration sharpening her voice. "I'm not good at waiting any more. 'Sall I did for the first nineteen years of my life, but then he came along." Her face softened and her yes became distant and John knew that she was lost in a memory. "An' it was fantastic. He showed me things that I never would have seen in London, not in a thousand million years. We met all sorts of people, Jack included, and we did mad, brilliant things. But then he went and got himself caught, and we're left sittin' here waiting."
He empathized. "Me too." It was his turn to lean back as she shifted her eyes to focus on him. "I've been a traveler all my life. Never could stand to sit still." He gestured expansively to the world beyond the garage. "There's so much out there. Who wouldn't want to see it?"
"Why'd you stop?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Money. Can't travel without it."
She laughed. "I wish my friend believed that!" He looked at her blankly. "He's not very good with domestics-like money-either," she clarified. "Every time we get chips, and I try to get them in every port, I pay."
John blinked. "So you travel around with two blokes and what, look after them?"
"Someone's got to," she said with a shrug. "Jack was with the Agency for too long-doesn't think more than a week in advance, and the Doctor…" her voice trailed off and the faraway look reasserted itself. "He doesn't think about it at all. Too focused on his ship." She sighed. "It's the only female he's remotely interested in," she continued dryly.
"He's a doctor, your friend?" The one that makes you smile, the one that steals your thoughts away. John felt absurdly like he was competing, even though they were alone. You can't win when you fight with a memory. People don't remember the hardships, the fights, the little annoyances that drove them mad. They remember the good times, the happiness, the moments they would kill to have back. Or at least, he did.
"Yeah," she replied. "Not that kind of doctor, though." Rose paused, frowning. "Come to think of it, I'm not sure what kind of doctor he is. Just calls himself that, like Jack's 'the Captain.'"
"But it's the Doctor's ship," John asserted, confused.
Rose laughed. "Yeah. He was a Captain when we found him."
"What about his ship?" Or was it a military rank? Did it have to do with the Agency? That name screamed covert ops or paramilitary. Was he some kind of terrorist? Color him crazy, but he didn't get that vibe off of the man. He was shady all right, but not in a bloody kind of way, not like a traitor.
"It blew up," she replied matter-of-factly. "So we asked him to come with us. Well," she amended, "I asked and the Doctor sort of let him."
"It blew up," he repeated. "You do lead an interesting life."
"He likes to blow things up, the Doctor does," she said with a grin. "He blew my job up." Rose relaxed a bit and straightened her legs out, resting her back against the cement wall. "It was lovely," she continued dreamily. "God, I hated that place."
John raised an eyebrow. "So he's an arsonist?"
She shook her head emphatically. "He only does it when he has to. Jack's ship was sort of an accident, but there were these-people, and they were going to use the building to hurt the city, so he blew it up. It was after-hours. There was no one there besides me." She smiled. "He saved my life."
It was damned difficult to compete with that. Not, he asserted, that he was competing. He wasn't interested in her like that; he just wanted to make sure that she was safe. Running around with dangerous blokes was questionable for a woman of any age, but she was young and naive. She didn't need anyone taking advantage of her.
"An' now you're here," John said after the pause stretched out, bordering on uncomfortable.
"Five more months and then we're off," she replied too quickly to have made calculations. She kept a mental countdown going. He did the same. He was surprised to note that theirs were running at the same pace.
"Why not wait in London?" he asked, voicing a question that had been bouncing about in his mind. "You must have family-friends. Sure they'd love a visit."
Rose grimaced. "Just my mum and Mickey-the mechanic." He was suddenly glad that she was here and not in London. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. "Thought about it. Mum doesn't like me traveling-thinks it's 'inappropriate' for me to knock about with a couple of older men." She rolled her eyes. "Thinks it's giving me 'airs and graces.'" She repeated the words like they were a common complaint. "If I went home, I'd have to listen to that for five months, and it's more than enough to drive me barking. Really, though…it's like, like I don't fit there anymore." Her voice was soft, hesitant. He waited patiently for her to work it out, well, maybe not patiently, but he kept silent. "I've seen beautiful things and terrible things-things that'll give me nightmares until I die and things that make me want to cry they're so wonderful. An' all of that-it made me different. I'm not Rose Tyler, shopgirl anymore. But them," she shrugged. "They stayed the same and now-now it's wrong. 'Slike I'm a stranger in my own home. I make mum nervous." She laughed. "Imagine that. My mum and she's nervous around me. No. I'm more comfortable in a bar fulla strangers than I am in the flat I grew up in." She turned her wide, open eyes on him and he felt like she could see into his soul. "Does that make me a bad person?"
She was asking him this? A man she hardly knew, who by his own confession never stayed in any one place for long at all? A man who had pinned her up against the wall and frightened her in a futile effort to scare her off? "No," he replied. What else could he say? "People change. 'Scalled growing up, and everyone leaves home in the end." He covered her hand with his own in an attempt to reassure. "Your mum isn't cut out for your life, but it's not hers. It's yours and you are, and that's fantastic."
She smiled at him then like he was so impressive, like he was worth something, and warmth seemed to radiate from within him, to reach into the cold, hard places where hurt and anger festered and sooth them away. She moved through his life with the force of a hurricane. She was a beautiful disaster waiting to happen, and he wouldn't have it any other way. He was a goner, but oh, what a way to go.
( Chapter Five )