Jack is sitting by the door when she walks in. He didn't even know she left, but he's not going to miss something like that, and the second he hears Rose crying, he's on his feet, running toward her to wrap his arms around her.
"Rose!" There's an implied what's wrong in the word, but it can go unsaid for just now.
There's a moment when her tears stop completely, just for a moment, from the complete shock of seeing Jack again. And then they come back full-force and she's clinging to him like a lifeline, because he's alive, and the Doctor's gone, and even a semi-proper goodbye couldn't make it hurt less.
Jack wonders a little at that look of shock she's giving him, but doesn't question it. He decides to wrap his arms tightly around her and take a few steps back. Those steps carry him to a couch, and he sits down heavily, pulling Rose onto his lap and holding her tight. He's sure she'll tell him eventually, but she doesn't even seem like she can talk now, so he won't ask it of her.
Somehow, having Jack there, warm and solid and very much alive, is making things both better and worse.
Worse because she knows (or thinks she knows) that he's dead, so this has to be at a point before he died, and that is not helpful to her right now. Better because this is the one person in the universe that she knows can understand how she feels. Not from experience, but just...
It's Jack. He gets her. She gets him. And she's missed him much more than she's ever admitted out loud.
So she clings, and cries, and eventually runs out of tears.
He looks up only briefly at first, not really paying much attention to what he just assumes is a new arrival. His mind is on other things at the moment, one of them being how exactly he's going to get the Inn to give back his TARDIS.
He'll look up again though, this time taking a closer look before things click.
Getting to his feet he approaches her quietly, one hand reaching out to rest against her shoulder.
"Rose," he says softly. "What's happened?" He's pretty sure he already knows though, this is just going through the motions.
No. No, it couldn't be him. She's in her hotel room, he said he couldn't get to the world she's trapped in. It was goodbye, back on the beach, it was really and truly goodbye, and now she's just completely snapped and is hallucinating.
Except that she looks up, and it registers vaguely in the back of her mind that this isn't her hotel room before her entire being is locked on the fact that it is him, in his suit and trainers, his tie not quite properly tied, his eyes both worried and knowing.
And then, completely without a conscious thought, she gasps and throws her arms around his neck, her tears start coming fresh, for a completely different reason.
"Doctor! My Doctor!"
Clingage is going to be going down for quite a while.
She's not a big fan of Rose, but it's for reasons beyond the other girl's control and Martha knows that. It's not Rose's fault that Martha is constantly compared to her, standing in her shadow. And she obviously needs help.
Still it is frustrating that she's here now. In a situation she can't just walk away from.
"Rose?" She approaches, placing a gentle hand on the girl's arm. "I'd ask if you were all right, but that seems to answer itself."
Rose jumps a little, startled at the contact, and stares at Martha with pain-filled eyes.
After a moment of silent staring, confused, she takes a couple of deep breaths, trying to steady herself. "I know you," she says softly. "I've seen you before. Who are you?"
And we're not just talking from her last time in the Inn, either - Martha's cousin was at Canary Wharf, after all.
Her hand remains on the girl's arm despite the fact that it had startled her so, obviously, she needs help to keep steady. "We just met yesterday, you, me, the Doctor... don't you, remember? Or..." She sighs and places her free hand against her forehead. "I bet time's been all mixed up again. I can't even try to keep track of it."
Rose's breath catches in her chest, and she closes her eyes against more tears, distracting herself by trying her damnedest to remember where she knows this girl from.
"Martha... Jones. Martha Jones. And I met you... you and the Doctor, back... and Canary Wharf." Her eyes fly open. "You were at Canary Wharf. I saw you."
Comments 93
"Rose!" There's an implied what's wrong in the word, but it can go unsaid for just now.
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If anything, it's made it worse.
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Worse because she knows (or thinks she knows) that he's dead, so this has to be at a point before he died, and that is not helpful to her right now. Better because this is the one person in the universe that she knows can understand how she feels. Not from experience, but just...
It's Jack. He gets her. She gets him. And she's missed him much more than she's ever admitted out loud.
So she clings, and cries, and eventually runs out of tears.
"I think I got snot on your jumper."
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He'll look up again though, this time taking a closer look before things click.
Getting to his feet he approaches her quietly, one hand reaching out to rest against her shoulder.
"Rose," he says softly. "What's happened?" He's pretty sure he already knows though, this is just going through the motions.
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Except that she looks up, and it registers vaguely in the back of her mind that this isn't her hotel room before her entire being is locked on the fact that it is him, in his suit and trainers, his tie not quite properly tied, his eyes both worried and knowing.
And then, completely without a conscious thought, she gasps and throws her arms around his neck, her tears start coming fresh, for a completely different reason.
"Doctor! My Doctor!"
Clingage is going to be going down for quite a while.
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"Nice to see you too," he replies with a smile. "Of course I could do without all the tears but still, won't complain that much."
Don't mind if he doesn't let her go yet, clinging can be contagious.
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"You're here. You're really here. It's really you."
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She's not a big fan of Rose, but it's for reasons beyond the other girl's control and Martha knows that. It's not Rose's fault that Martha is constantly compared to her, standing in her shadow. And she obviously needs help.
Still it is frustrating that she's here now. In a situation she can't just walk away from.
"Rose?" She approaches, placing a gentle hand on the girl's arm. "I'd ask if you were all right, but that seems to answer itself."
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After a moment of silent staring, confused, she takes a couple of deep breaths, trying to steady herself. "I know you," she says softly. "I've seen you before. Who are you?"
And we're not just talking from her last time in the Inn, either - Martha's cousin was at Canary Wharf, after all.
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Her hand remains on the girl's arm despite the fact that it had startled her so, obviously, she needs help to keep steady. "We just met yesterday, you, me, the Doctor... don't you, remember? Or..." She sighs and places her free hand against her forehead. "I bet time's been all mixed up again. I can't even try to keep track of it."
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"Martha... Jones. Martha Jones. And I met you... you and the Doctor, back... and Canary Wharf." Her eyes fly open. "You were at Canary Wharf. I saw you."
Distraction, of any sort, is good.
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