Doctor Who: Through the Eyes of Another
Title: Through the Eyes of Another
Author: sassy_lion
Beta: xebgoc
Rating: G
Setting: Before "Rose" to sometime after "Doomsday"
Summary: She watched Rose, knowing one day she'd save the world.
Notes: Ah, my ever faithful sticky notes came through again, which means I wrote these at work. :) This idea's been in my head for quite a long time, but I was never sure how to format this idea into a story. Fortunately, my muse finally got to it and decided that it really didn't need a story format. Six drabbles, 600 words in MS Office.
A sharp cry and heavy footsteps woke her immediately. Three am, according to the small digital clock on her bedside table. The woman, over in council flat forty-eight, must have broken her water. She remembered when she'd had her own son long ago. She'd been terribly afraid -- she hadn't had a good husband to calm her down.
A car horn sounded minutes later and two sets of footsteps lumbered down the metal stairs outside. She had faith though. Lots of faith in the woman named Jackie Tyler. After all, her daughter was going to grow up to save the world.
*~*
"Look!" Rose's voice caught her attention as she left her flat.
Rose was holding a new doll. Pink dress, pink shoes, yellow hair.
"She's beau--" Before she could finish, the doll disappeared from Rose's hand. A boy, probably ten, was far up the street by the time they saw him. She pulled Rose into a hug, whispering softly that everything was okay. After Rose rushed to the flat, a man in a blue greatcoat appeared -- holding the doll safely in hand.
"Tell her it's okay now."
She took the doll and he disappeared around a corner, without another word.
*~*
Shouting. Lots and lots of shouting. Rose Tyler was arguing with her mother once more. She couldn't hear much, but this wasn't the young woman that she thought Rose would be. The shouting died down a few minutes later, but she couldn't help but feel that something was changing, and not for the better.
Knock. Knock.
She answered the door to find Rose standing there, a large bruise on her cheek. Certainly Jimmy's work.
"Yes, Rose?" She tried to ignore the bruise; but Rose, acutely aware of it, covered it immediately.
"Mum was wondering if she could borrow some butter."
*~*
He noticed her long after she began to watch him search the council flats. The day had finally come. The day Rose needed to be complete. To become the woman she remembered Rose as.
"You need somethin'?" His voice was much flatter, much more disapproving than she'd remembered.
"Rose thinks she needs to stay on this council flat as a punishment for staying with Jimmy so long." She hardened her voice enough to make him pay attention. He needed to, for Rose's sake. For her sake.
"And what I am supposed to do about it?"
"Don't let her say no."
*~*
The flowers were laid gently next to the Canary Wharf memorial, a bouquet of yellow roses. A bit clichéd, she supposed. Her son stood next to her as she pointed out Rose's name on the memorial, next to Jackie's.
The story began at a point before he was rescued during the war and gasmask zombies. As she neared the end of the story, she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"And everybody lived." The voice was rich with a London accent. The man wore a brown pinstripe suit and tan overcoat. She knew who he was.
"Hello, Doctor."
"Hello, Nancy."
Author: sassy_lion
Beta: xebgoc
Rating: G
Setting: Before "Rose" to sometime after "Doomsday"
Summary: She watched Rose, knowing one day she'd save the world.
Notes: Ah, my ever faithful sticky notes came through again, which means I wrote these at work. :) This idea's been in my head for quite a long time, but I was never sure how to format this idea into a story. Fortunately, my muse finally got to it and decided that it really didn't need a story format. Six drabbles, 600 words in MS Office.
A sharp cry and heavy footsteps woke her immediately. Three am, according to the small digital clock on her bedside table. The woman, over in council flat forty-eight, must have broken her water. She remembered when she'd had her own son long ago. She'd been terribly afraid -- she hadn't had a good husband to calm her down.
A car horn sounded minutes later and two sets of footsteps lumbered down the metal stairs outside. She had faith though. Lots of faith in the woman named Jackie Tyler. After all, her daughter was going to grow up to save the world.
*~*
"Look!" Rose's voice caught her attention as she left her flat.
Rose was holding a new doll. Pink dress, pink shoes, yellow hair.
"She's beau--" Before she could finish, the doll disappeared from Rose's hand. A boy, probably ten, was far up the street by the time they saw him. She pulled Rose into a hug, whispering softly that everything was okay. After Rose rushed to the flat, a man in a blue greatcoat appeared -- holding the doll safely in hand.
"Tell her it's okay now."
She took the doll and he disappeared around a corner, without another word.
*~*
Shouting. Lots and lots of shouting. Rose Tyler was arguing with her mother once more. She couldn't hear much, but this wasn't the young woman that she thought Rose would be. The shouting died down a few minutes later, but she couldn't help but feel that something was changing, and not for the better.
Knock. Knock.
She answered the door to find Rose standing there, a large bruise on her cheek. Certainly Jimmy's work.
"Yes, Rose?" She tried to ignore the bruise; but Rose, acutely aware of it, covered it immediately.
"Mum was wondering if she could borrow some butter."
*~*
He noticed her long after she began to watch him search the council flats. The day had finally come. The day Rose needed to be complete. To become the woman she remembered Rose as.
"You need somethin'?" His voice was much flatter, much more disapproving than she'd remembered.
"Rose thinks she needs to stay on this council flat as a punishment for staying with Jimmy so long." She hardened her voice enough to make him pay attention. He needed to, for Rose's sake. For her sake.
"And what I am supposed to do about it?"
"Don't let her say no."
*~*
The flowers were laid gently next to the Canary Wharf memorial, a bouquet of yellow roses. A bit clichéd, she supposed. Her son stood next to her as she pointed out Rose's name on the memorial, next to Jackie's.
The story began at a point before he was rescued during the war and gasmask zombies. As she neared the end of the story, she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"And everybody lived." The voice was rich with a London accent. The man wore a brown pinstripe suit and tan overcoat. She knew who he was.
"Hello, Doctor."
"Hello, Nancy."