Fic: Sweet Dreams
This is crazy.
This is crazy, standing here in front of an unfamiliar house, in a neighbourhood that she doesn’t recognize, going to see a person who doesn’t know her. She’s thought it through a thousand times in the three months since she’s been stuck in this universe, and she’s come to the same conclusion each time. This is crazy.
She’s going to do it anyway.
Resolutely, Rose clenches her fists, wincing when half-bitten nails once again bite into her palms, then marches up to the house and rings the bell. She’s going to go through with this if it kills her.
She has to wait a while for the door to open, and she’s feeling more stupid by the moment. She’s thinking about leaving, and wishing she hasn’t come when the door swings open and it’s too late to run.
Sarah Jane stands before her, looking just as Rose remembers her. Rose has to choke back an exclamation of familiarity because this woman does not know her and it wouldn’t do to scare her. She opens her mouth to speak, but finds she has no words and she wonders again why she doesn’t run and run until she can forget this.
“Yes,” Sarah Jane says, looking a little puzzled, and Rose tries to introduce herself, but finds that she is crying instead, with big tears that slide down her cheeks and a lump in her throat that won’t seem to let anything past it.
“I’m Rose,” she chokes, and she thinks she doesn’t know what she’s doing here, except she does really, and she tries not to think about everything she has no reason to find here, but hopes to all the same. Then she squeezes her eyes closed tightly, just a like a child hiding from the world and she thinks maybe that’s what she is, but she feels so much older.
An arm settles around her shoulders and Sarah Jane gently steers her inside, surprised even at herself for inviting in a perfect stranger who happens to be crying on her doorstep. She sits Rose on the couch and puts her arms around her, hugging her until she’s ready to stop crying.
When she is, Rose sniffs and half smiles.
“You don’t even know who I am,” she says.
“No,” Sarah Jane agrees. “Why don’t you tell me?”
II
She doesn’t tell Sarah Jane everything, not the whole story, just the parts that she can understand. Sarah comes to expect this of her when she gets to know Rose better, comes to expect that the stories Rose will share while relaxing at Sarah’s house after a day at Torchwood will only be snippets of the story, which she hopes to one day put together to find out the truth.
“Oh,” Rose will say, her eyes far away and a half smile on her lips. “My friend and I, we traveled to a place once that you couldn’t imagine. There were people there who needed help - and my friend gave it. Almost died in the process. I was so angry with him I didn’t speak to him for days.”
Sarah doesn’t press for details though she doesn’t even know the name of this friend Rose constantly talks about. She hopes some day Rose will tell her everything, perhaps after Torchwood has been particularly demanding and Rose needs some time out on Sarah’s couch.
Rose is often at Sarah’s house now. They usually share a bottle of wine, or some dinner, or a couch to watch movies on.
Sometimes, they share a kiss.
II
Its cramped living in a house with her parents, Mickey and her baby brother and Rose needs to get out. Her salary is not a lot, and nothing within her price range is what she wants. Secretly, she thinks of a big blue box and knows that she will never find what she wants.
Sarah has a big house with lots of extra room and it seems the logical thing to move in.
Maybe this isn’t what she wants, but Rose thinks it’s pretty damn close.
II
Rose doesn’t remember Sarah as being particularly empathetic, but she somehow seems to always know when she is needed.
In the middle of the night, a week after the move, Rose sits in her new room, staring out at the stars, trying to pick out the ones she’s visited. It’s difficult because for some reason her eyes keep blurring and she has to keep brushing away the wetness to make them right. She hasn’t slept in what feels like months, and probably is, she thinks. She doesn’t think she’s slept a full night since she was dragged into this new world.
She doesn’t hear her door open or quiet footsteps come up behind her. She does, however, feel the arms that settle around her from behind and the hand that brushes away a tear from her cheek.
“Nightmares?” Sarah whispers, and Rose shakes her head.
“No,” she says. She doesn’t elaborate, and Sarah doesn’t ask. She lets Rose cry, and then she takes her back into her own room and settles her into the double bed. They curl up around each other, sharing warmth and comfort, and Rose is asleep almost instantly.
She feels safe there.
II
The next time Rose can’t sleep, she pads quietly downstairs to the kitchen and makes herself some tea. Staring into it, she remembers cups of tea on the TARDIS, which she drank so often in the kitchen when she was tired or angry or homesick. She remembers the Doctor’s brow furrowed in concentration as he added just the right amount of milk and the smile on his face as he handed the mug to her, giving her an overwhelming feeling of comfort and safety.
Then her eyes blur and reality returns. Tears prick once more at the back of Rose’s eyes but she blinks them away. She doesn’t feel like crying. She gets angry instead.
The smash can be heard all around the neighbourhood as Rose hurls the mug to the floor.
Sarah comes in less than thirty seconds later. She is calm; she takes only a brief glace at the mess before going to Rose who stands staring at what she’s done. Like a child, she looks up at Sarah, her eyes big and her lower lip trembling. Sarah says not a word, simply smiles, turns Rose around, takes her upstairs and puts in her into bed.
She returns a few minutes later after having gone to clean up the mess. Rose is sitting up in bed, and she turns when Sarah opens the door. Sarah sits down next to her and waits for the younger woman to speak.
“I’m sorry,” Rose whispers at last. Sarah doesn’t need to ask what for. She knows Rose isn’t simply referring to the mug.
There’s no way to say what Sarah wants to, so she doesn’t. Instead, she leans forward and presses her lips against Rose’s. The kiss doesn’t last long, but it’s enough to express all that both need to. Then Sarah tucks a piece of Rose’s hair behind her ear, and leaves for her own room.
Rose doesn’t have any more trouble sleeping after that.