[fic] [request] And Burn (Doctor Who, Rose, Mickey)
Title: And Burn
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: G
Warning: Spoilers through Doomsday
Relationships: past Mickey/Rose, past Rose/Ten
Summary: Rose can see the crash coming, but she can't stop it. For kilodalton
Fic requests index
And Burn
Rose can see the fight coming, but she can't stop it.
Though Rose has tried to be happy for her mum and for Pete, and for her new baby brother, there's a hole inside her. An absence, an abscess. She pushes through, one day at a time, because she has to, but she misses him, misses her Doctor, so much.
But Mickey--Mickey has changed. He's adapted in every way she can't. He fits in here. He's happy in all the ways she can't be, so when he comes into the Torchwood offices grinning, a paper-wrapped package of fish and chips in hand, she just snaps. Snaps at him:
"Can't you eat in the break room like everybody else? You'll get grease on the contacts again and dad'll be pissed."
The smile falls from his face and he grimaces like a disgruntled child. Grumbles, in that equally childish way he sometimes has: "Pete doesn't care."
"He does, though. And if you spent more time paying attention at briefings instead of running off before he's even done--"
"I get calls, Rose, and I got to answer them. Which you'd know, if you'd come on the field once in a while."
Her eyes narrow. "I'm on a field team. Took on those judoon last week, didn't I? With dad."
"Right, the so-called big-gun backup team. Aka Jackie's scared you're going to get hurt."
"No." She sets her jaw. "Aka I've seen a lot bloody more than you have so I'm not going to waste my time chasing around little threats like mutants in the sewers or fat little baby adipose."
"Oh right," he says, visibly rankling. "Rose Tyler's spent time with the Doctor. How could I forget? -- Oh wait. So've I. Get over it."
She wants to slap him. Curls her fingers instead, digs her nails into her palm. "You didn't hardly spend any time with him."
"Spent enough time to know he's brilliant enough, yeah, but we can be just as brilliant."
She lifts her chin a little. "There's nobody as good as him."
Mickey rolls his eyes. "Yeah, well, he'll never be coming here again, yeah? Time to move on." He drops the packet of fish and chips and begins unwrapping it. "I'm sure he has."
This time she does slap him. Just a little tap, but enough to sting. He winces and his fingers fly to his cheek. "Oi, what the hell was that for? I'm just telling the truth."
"You don't know half the truth. You weren't even there half the time." Rose's eyes sting. His words weasel their way into her heart, threaten to burrow through the wobbling barriers she's set up there. If only the Doctor had finished his goodbye. She fights back the tears.
Mickey picks up a chip and sighs. "Well I wasn't hardly welcome, was I?"
"Oh, yes, feel sorry for yourself again," she says. "Like I haven't heard that a thousand times before. Poor poor Mickey Smith."
He throws down the chip. "Yeah, so what? Poor me. It sucked."
"Maybe if you'd opened your eyes, looked around yourself, seen all the amazing things the Doctor was showing you--"
"What, while the Doctor was making off with the girl I was in love with?"
"In love?" She can't quite keep the mockery out of her voice. Before the Doctor came, she might have agreed with Mickey. Back when she'd been bored and stupid and had such a small view of the world that she could believe her comfortable stagnation with Mickey Smith was love. "You know that's not what it was. You ran off with Trisha Delaney the minute I was gone!"
He shrugs. "Yeah. Suppose I did. But it still hurt. Anyway we can all see amazing stuff now, can't we? You want aliens and stars and stuff? That's the whole point of Torchwood, isn't it?"
"It's not the same."
Mickey groans. "What, stars aren't as nice without an idiot in a suit and Converse? Sure, so maybe he showed you some fancy things. So what? He's never coming back, Rose, get it through your thick head. And maybe it's for the better, yeah? You can have your own life now. Be with Jackie and Pete, do normal life stuff. Better than running around, being the Doctor's shadow."
"I wouldn't be his shadow," she says, stubbornly. "You don't know him. You don't know us. He was alone, Mickey, he is alone. He needs me. I would've stayed with him."
"So he could watch you grow old and die? Or maybe get you killed on some alien planet? Sweet of you. Bet he thought so too. Maybe that's why he got rid of you."
"Shut up." She flinches from his words, from the truths there, and from the truths he simply can't see.
"You think he couldn't have found some way here with that fancy Tardis of his? He's left you here. Give it up. You could do plenty better."
She's so mad she shakes. Anger turns her words into targeted arrows aimed at his softest, weakest spots. "What, like an idiot from my old estate who had to run to a parallel world just to find somewhere he was actually wanted?"
Mickey's hands fist at his sides. His lips press together and his nostrils flare; she knows she's hit him below the belt, but she can't manage to feel sorry for it.
"No, you couldn't do this good," he says at last. He picks up the packet of fish and chips. "Whatever. I'm going to the break room. Happy now?"
"Fine," she says, through gritted teeth.
"Fine," he responds, jaw equally clenched.
And as he slams the door behind him she knows she's been too harsh, that she's truly hurt him. She tells herself he's hurt her too, plenty, and it's only the truth they've thrown at each other. But as she slides into a chair and lowers her head down on her desk, her tears are not only for the Doctor and herself.
This entry was originally posted at http://plutokitty.dreamwidth.org/7528.html. Comment here or there (
).
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: G
Warning: Spoilers through Doomsday
Relationships: past Mickey/Rose, past Rose/Ten
Summary: Rose can see the crash coming, but she can't stop it. For kilodalton
Fic requests index
And Burn
Rose can see the fight coming, but she can't stop it.
Though Rose has tried to be happy for her mum and for Pete, and for her new baby brother, there's a hole inside her. An absence, an abscess. She pushes through, one day at a time, because she has to, but she misses him, misses her Doctor, so much.
But Mickey--Mickey has changed. He's adapted in every way she can't. He fits in here. He's happy in all the ways she can't be, so when he comes into the Torchwood offices grinning, a paper-wrapped package of fish and chips in hand, she just snaps. Snaps at him:
"Can't you eat in the break room like everybody else? You'll get grease on the contacts again and dad'll be pissed."
The smile falls from his face and he grimaces like a disgruntled child. Grumbles, in that equally childish way he sometimes has: "Pete doesn't care."
"He does, though. And if you spent more time paying attention at briefings instead of running off before he's even done--"
"I get calls, Rose, and I got to answer them. Which you'd know, if you'd come on the field once in a while."
Her eyes narrow. "I'm on a field team. Took on those judoon last week, didn't I? With dad."
"Right, the so-called big-gun backup team. Aka Jackie's scared you're going to get hurt."
"No." She sets her jaw. "Aka I've seen a lot bloody more than you have so I'm not going to waste my time chasing around little threats like mutants in the sewers or fat little baby adipose."
"Oh right," he says, visibly rankling. "Rose Tyler's spent time with the Doctor. How could I forget? -- Oh wait. So've I. Get over it."
She wants to slap him. Curls her fingers instead, digs her nails into her palm. "You didn't hardly spend any time with him."
"Spent enough time to know he's brilliant enough, yeah, but we can be just as brilliant."
She lifts her chin a little. "There's nobody as good as him."
Mickey rolls his eyes. "Yeah, well, he'll never be coming here again, yeah? Time to move on." He drops the packet of fish and chips and begins unwrapping it. "I'm sure he has."
This time she does slap him. Just a little tap, but enough to sting. He winces and his fingers fly to his cheek. "Oi, what the hell was that for? I'm just telling the truth."
"You don't know half the truth. You weren't even there half the time." Rose's eyes sting. His words weasel their way into her heart, threaten to burrow through the wobbling barriers she's set up there. If only the Doctor had finished his goodbye. She fights back the tears.
Mickey picks up a chip and sighs. "Well I wasn't hardly welcome, was I?"
"Oh, yes, feel sorry for yourself again," she says. "Like I haven't heard that a thousand times before. Poor poor Mickey Smith."
He throws down the chip. "Yeah, so what? Poor me. It sucked."
"Maybe if you'd opened your eyes, looked around yourself, seen all the amazing things the Doctor was showing you--"
"What, while the Doctor was making off with the girl I was in love with?"
"In love?" She can't quite keep the mockery out of her voice. Before the Doctor came, she might have agreed with Mickey. Back when she'd been bored and stupid and had such a small view of the world that she could believe her comfortable stagnation with Mickey Smith was love. "You know that's not what it was. You ran off with Trisha Delaney the minute I was gone!"
He shrugs. "Yeah. Suppose I did. But it still hurt. Anyway we can all see amazing stuff now, can't we? You want aliens and stars and stuff? That's the whole point of Torchwood, isn't it?"
"It's not the same."
Mickey groans. "What, stars aren't as nice without an idiot in a suit and Converse? Sure, so maybe he showed you some fancy things. So what? He's never coming back, Rose, get it through your thick head. And maybe it's for the better, yeah? You can have your own life now. Be with Jackie and Pete, do normal life stuff. Better than running around, being the Doctor's shadow."
"I wouldn't be his shadow," she says, stubbornly. "You don't know him. You don't know us. He was alone, Mickey, he is alone. He needs me. I would've stayed with him."
"So he could watch you grow old and die? Or maybe get you killed on some alien planet? Sweet of you. Bet he thought so too. Maybe that's why he got rid of you."
"Shut up." She flinches from his words, from the truths there, and from the truths he simply can't see.
"You think he couldn't have found some way here with that fancy Tardis of his? He's left you here. Give it up. You could do plenty better."
She's so mad she shakes. Anger turns her words into targeted arrows aimed at his softest, weakest spots. "What, like an idiot from my old estate who had to run to a parallel world just to find somewhere he was actually wanted?"
Mickey's hands fist at his sides. His lips press together and his nostrils flare; she knows she's hit him below the belt, but she can't manage to feel sorry for it.
"No, you couldn't do this good," he says at last. He picks up the packet of fish and chips. "Whatever. I'm going to the break room. Happy now?"
"Fine," she says, through gritted teeth.
"Fine," he responds, jaw equally clenched.
And as he slams the door behind him she knows she's been too harsh, that she's truly hurt him. She tells herself he's hurt her too, plenty, and it's only the truth they've thrown at each other. But as she slides into a chair and lowers her head down on her desk, her tears are not only for the Doctor and herself.
This entry was originally posted at http://plutokitty.dreamwidth.org/7528.html. Comment here or there (
).