(no subject)
I've started to hate this after spending so *long* on it.
Title: Psychobabble
Rating: For mature persons only/has profanity, references to sex
Characters: Rose Tyler, Tenth Doctor, Jackie Tyler, AU Pete Tyler, Mickey Smith, one OC
Spoilers for Doomsday
Notes: Slightly Doctor/Rose, Mickey/Rose, Jackie/Pete, a hint of Mickey/Jake. Features evil!Ten. One-shot, and about 2477 words
Summary: He could never be this cruel, and if she’s sure of anything in this new life of hers, she’s sure of that.
“I missed you.”
He nods, laughing and smiling, laughing and joking, and sits beside her. He's flicking the light of the sonic screwdriver on and off. “I missed you too.”
It’s not right. It’s not real. She knows this. She shakes her head. “No…you’re not really here, are you? This isn’t you, telling me these things. You’re just in my head.”
“You really think that?”
“I -“
“Do you want me to be real, Rose? Am I real? Am I here? Or am I just in your head, appearing to you and talking to you and whispering to you night after night after night - “
“You’re not real.”
“Quite sure of that, are you?”
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“This.”
“Do you really want me to?”
“I want…”
“What, Rose? You want what?”
“Why are you being like this? This isn’t you.”
“How do you know?”
“Oh…go away.”
“Go away?” he smirks.
“Yes,” she nods. “Go away. Get out. Get out of my room, out of my head. Just leave me alone.”
“Do you really want that though?”
“I just said -“
“See, now, I don’t think you do.”
*+-+*
When they fuck, it isn’t out of love. Probably not even lust. Just need, and comfort.
The first time they did it - although, it wasn’t exactly the first time, but the first time on this new and rather different Earth - he’d protested. Said “no”. Rejected her. Pushed her away but still held her close. She had her hands against his chest and him against the wall, and she’d been crying. Grieving. Alone. He’d taken her to the bed, sat her down, and held her as she sobbed. He stroked her hair. He comforted her. He gently kissed her hair. And then she kissed him. Harsh. Ferocious.
He’d given in. Perhaps it had been what she needed. Just one night. One night to try and forget.
But then she came back for more. And he’d let her. Every night. She’d say “good night” to her mother and to Pete and to him, to Jake if Jake stayed around - something Mickey found he rather liked, though he didn’t really understand why -, and then she’d go to bed, lying and waiting and hoping for everyone else to go too. And then she’d make her move, never staying in her room for long, creeping across the landing and into his bed.
And he’d let her. Still does.
He wonders whether it’s a coping mechanism. The need for comfort, for warmth. A channel for grief. Some way to not feel as alone as she does already.
Either way, it certainly isn’t love.
Occasionally, Mickey finds himself thinking that perhaps Rose is afraid. He wonders if she is afraid of sleeping, if she is scared of dreaming and of being alone at night with nothing but her mind to keep her company.
Perhaps he helps her to avoid that.
At night, after he’s said his “good nights” and gone to bed - and if only they knew -, he waits for the door to open. Waits for Rose to creep in. And she does. Right on schedule.
He still tenses as she crawls into his bed. He knows this is wrong. This is very, very wrong, but he’s torn between what’s right and what’s wrong and what she needs and what she wants. And right now, she wants him, here, with her, in bed. Needs him.
It’s still as often - nightly -, but not as messy and chaotic as the first time. It’s all become rather systematic. They fuck - she lies there, not strictly motionless, but not exactly enthusiastic about the whole thing, while he rocks against, into her. Her fingers grip his shoulders and she closes her eyes. Occasionally, she mumbles things. Occasionally, she cries. Occasionally, she’s struggled to yell a different name to Mickey’s entirely - and he half-expects that name of all names to utter from her mouth -, but has to bite her tongue for fear of waking everyone else up. After a while, after he’s finished and she’s finished and they’ve both decided that enough is enough - though they never speak - she gathers herself together, dresses herself once again in her pyjamas, and sleeps on the other side of the bed until daybreak.
Not a word is said over breakfast the following morning. Glances are shared, looks are given, but nothing more. It’s all “pass the butter” and “would you like some orange juice, Mickey?” and “how did you sleep last night?”
“Fine,” Rose responds. She’s lying. And Jackie knows this. “Really?”
“No.”
“Right.”
“I might get in touch with Torchwood today, though.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m glad.
“Yeah, well…if I’m staying here, might as well do something, I suppose. Can’t lounge around all day.”
“No…I suppose you’re right.”
“You’re relieved, aren’t you?”
“Hm?”
“That I’m getting out there and doing things. Looking for a job. You’re relieved.”
“I am, yeah. Just as long as you’re happy, darling.”
Rose stays silent after that. Mickey thinks she’d scoff if she could. Her mother and Pete start talking about baby names - old names, weird names, long names and short names - and whether she’d have a home birth or go into the hospital. She’s far along now, and they need to decide on these sorts of things. A nursery’s already been done up and painted. Cot, toys, a mobile and everything. Right between Rose’s room and his.
He wonders what’s going to happen once the baby’s born. If Rose will still visit him in the middle of the night. He thinks to himself “probably not”, and wonders why he feels slightly disappointed at that.
*+-+*
When the hallucinations started, Rose rather hoped they were real. They looked real. Felt - though she could never touch - real. Sounded real. And they still do. But she doesn’t hope for it anymore. She doesn’t wish for it to be true. In fact, Rose Tyler is rather glad that her hallucinations are just that. They have to be. It all has to be. He could never be this cruel, and if she’s sure of anything in this new life of hers, she’s sure of that.
“You see, Rose Tyler, if I go, if you…send me away, then what are you left with, hm?”
“Just go.”
“I’m the closest thing you’ll ever have to me, Rose.”
“I’ve got memories. I can remember.”
He grins. “Oh, yes. Memories. Like the time you deliberately went against my wishes and saved your dad’s life back in 1987? Or like the time you brought the Dalek back to life? Really fond memories, Rose. I’m so proud of you.”
“Stop it.”
“No.”
“Please.”
He laughs, and as best as a hallucination can, he stands, glancing around at the chest of drawers and at the bed and at the chair at the desk. He smirks, and turns to face her. “I know what you dream of at night.”
“Don’t.”
“Me. Or him, whichever way you want to look at it. We’re both still the Doctor.”
“You’re not the -“
“And I know you wish you fucked me you had the chance. You dream of it. And, let’s face it, Rose, you really should have done. After all, that’s why you came along, isn’t it? Bored with Mister Mickey, bored with your life, looking for some excitement and then bam, along comes me. And you just couldn’t resist.”
Rose Tyler shuts her eyes, and for a hallucination, he’s pretty persistent. She can hear him laughing. “And yet…look at you now. Parallel Earth. Living with your mum, Pete Tyler - oh, and look, Rose, there’s your daddy issues sorted right there - and Mickey. Mickety-Mick Mick. I know you’ve visited him tonight, Rose.”
“I -“
“I know you visit him many nights. I don’t like it. I don’t want you to do that anymore. It angers me.”
“Please, just -“
A knock at the door forces her eyes open. She glances around, knowing full well that he’s already gone. She looks up as her mother enters the room, dressed in nightwear and her hair curled up in pink rollers and smiling a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I heard you talking.”
“Yeah?”
Jackie nods gently, and moves to sit down next to her daughter. “You were talking to him, weren’t you?”
No point trying to hide it. “Yeah.”
“Right.”
She doesn’t believe her. She doesn’t understand. Rose shakes her head. “He was here, Mum.”
“Rose -“
“No, he was. He was standing right over there,” she indicates, “and he was talking to me. The Doctor.”
Jackie sighs. “It’s not the Doctor, Rose.”
“He said he was.”
“But he’s not, and you know that.”
*+-+*
Her mother suggests counselling, and Rose Tyler knows that there’s no way around it. They discuss how she should go about it - Jackie imagines there’ll be problems with red tape, considering she wasn’t exactly born on this Earth and doesn’t strictly have a birth certificate, but one day Pete comes home announcing he’s owed a favour from a friend who has his very own private counselling practice, and can get Rose sessions for free, no GP referral needed.
Jackie doesn’t dare ask what Pete’s done to warrant this sort of favour.
“Just as long as he helps her, yeah? I’m telling you, Pete, he better not hurt her, or you’ll be for it an’ all.”
Pete laughs, and kisses her forehead. ”You’re definitely Jackie, then.”
“Never said I wasn’t.”
Rose watches as they banter slightly, laughing and joking and grinning away like two teenage lovers. Pete places a hand on Jackie’s stomach and she looks up at him, so full of love and grinning madly and wanting him so much it doesn’t matter what universe she lives in. All that matters is that he’s alive, he’s here. They’re together again.
Rose thinks she might be jealous.
*+-+*
Her interview with Torchwood goes well. This side of the void, it’s less about upholding the British Empire and more about studying alien life forms and discovering what’s out there. So, she fits in. Tells them what she’s seen, where she’s been. Cardiff, 1869. New York, 2035. To the end of the world and back again. To war. She tells them about her universe, about the things she’s seen, about the Doctor.
She tells them everything.
They wonder if she would like to work for them. She doesn’t understand computers and she isn’t exactly weapons-trained, but they offer her a position anyway and tell her that for all her experiences, she’s too valuable to let go.
Rose Tyler doesn’t like the sound of that. But she says “yes” anyway. It’s better than working in a shop.
They want her to start straight away, but she says “no”, she has to sort a few things first, and to give her a few months. She knows they don’t like the idea of this, and she decides to be cheeky and tells them that if she really is as valuable to them as they say she is, they’ll wait.
*+-+*
”So, you got the job at Torchwood, then?”
“Yeah, I did. Please go away, I don’t want you here.”
“I’m proud of you.”
“What?”
“I’m proud of you,” he repeats. She stares at him. He looks genuine. Sincere. Like he means it. She sighs, shaking her head. He’s lying. He’s trying to trick her. ”Leave me alone.”
“I know where you’ve been.”
“What?”
“You’ve just come back from visiting Mickey, haven’t you?”
“Oh, get out.”
“I love you, Rose. Why are you doing this to me?”
“Get out!”
*+-+*
Her first appointment is full of introductions and filling in forms and of him telling her about how qualified he is. He seems friendly and kind but rather eccentric and Rose wonders whether she’s in the best possible hands. She knows she probably isn’t. He’s playing with a Rubik’s Cube and laughing as he almost gets a side complete with one colour. She wonders if he’s forgotten her. She sighs. Deliberately.
Glancing up, he squints through his glasses slightly, places down the Rubik’s Cube, and nods. “Right, yes. Erm…Rose Tyler. Nineteen -”
“Twenty.”
“- Twenty years old. And you’re here because…because of what?”
“I don’t know.” She wonders if that’s a lie. Perhaps it is.
“Your…father said you lost someone.”
“Yeah.”
“Someone you love?”
“Yeah.”
He asks who, and Rose Tyler decides that she’d rather make it up. Tells him his name was “John”, that he was a doctor, and talks about how one day, she and John decided to go travelling. She knows he’d never believe the truth. He wouldn’t understand. He asks her where they went, and she has to think, careful not to mention anywhere outside of Earth. She tells him they went all over, from Cardiff to Kyoto and back again.
At the end of their session, he tells her he would like to see her again, and asks her to arrange an appointment.
*+-+*
When they meet again, she wonders if the time is right to tell him more. So she brings up her hallucinations, and he nods and he listens and he writes down “relevant bits of information that may help piece the puzzle together”. Rose Tyler sits at an angle where she can see the notepad, and sees that there are no words. Just doodlings. She smiles to herself, and continues.
When she’s finished, she asks him what he thinks, asks if she’s going mad, and he tells her “no”, she isn’t. She’s just grieving. He tells her he thinks her hallucinations are a symptom of grief, of loss. She is in mourning, and this is the way she copes with it.
“It is possible, Miss Tyler, that somewhere in your mind you feel that if…Josh -“
“John.”
“- John is being cruel to you then you can be angry with him, hate him even.”
“I -“
“It’s easier to hate someone than to miss them.”
*+-+*
Rose Tyler wonders if three months’ worth of sessions is enough, and tells Torchwood to wait a bit longer. They’re annoyed, and understandably so, but they’ll wait.
*+-+*
She doesn’t visit Mickey in the night anymore. Well, not as often as she used to. She’s been having counselling sessions for the past five months now, and her behaviour’s not the only thing that’s changed. Jackie gave birth.
When Rose does visit him, he finds that she just wants to be held. Nothing more. A cuddle and perhaps a kiss on the forehead, a stroke of the hair, and then she’s gone. She doesn’t stay until the morning anymore.
She occasionally bumps into Jackie or Pete as they see to the baby, and although they know where she’s just come from, not a word is said. Rose bids them goodnight and returns to her room, and she’s relieved to see he isn’t there. Perhaps she can sleep tonight.
Rose Tyler decides she'll call Torchwood in the morning, and tell them she's ready.
Title: Psychobabble
Rating: For mature persons only/has profanity, references to sex
Characters: Rose Tyler, Tenth Doctor, Jackie Tyler, AU Pete Tyler, Mickey Smith, one OC
Spoilers for Doomsday
Notes: Slightly Doctor/Rose, Mickey/Rose, Jackie/Pete, a hint of Mickey/Jake. Features evil!Ten. One-shot, and about 2477 words
Summary: He could never be this cruel, and if she’s sure of anything in this new life of hers, she’s sure of that.
“I missed you.”
He nods, laughing and smiling, laughing and joking, and sits beside her. He's flicking the light of the sonic screwdriver on and off. “I missed you too.”
It’s not right. It’s not real. She knows this. She shakes her head. “No…you’re not really here, are you? This isn’t you, telling me these things. You’re just in my head.”
“You really think that?”
“I -“
“Do you want me to be real, Rose? Am I real? Am I here? Or am I just in your head, appearing to you and talking to you and whispering to you night after night after night - “
“You’re not real.”
“Quite sure of that, are you?”
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“This.”
“Do you really want me to?”
“I want…”
“What, Rose? You want what?”
“Why are you being like this? This isn’t you.”
“How do you know?”
“Oh…go away.”
“Go away?” he smirks.
“Yes,” she nods. “Go away. Get out. Get out of my room, out of my head. Just leave me alone.”
“Do you really want that though?”
“I just said -“
“See, now, I don’t think you do.”
*+-+*
When they fuck, it isn’t out of love. Probably not even lust. Just need, and comfort.
The first time they did it - although, it wasn’t exactly the first time, but the first time on this new and rather different Earth - he’d protested. Said “no”. Rejected her. Pushed her away but still held her close. She had her hands against his chest and him against the wall, and she’d been crying. Grieving. Alone. He’d taken her to the bed, sat her down, and held her as she sobbed. He stroked her hair. He comforted her. He gently kissed her hair. And then she kissed him. Harsh. Ferocious.
He’d given in. Perhaps it had been what she needed. Just one night. One night to try and forget.
But then she came back for more. And he’d let her. Every night. She’d say “good night” to her mother and to Pete and to him, to Jake if Jake stayed around - something Mickey found he rather liked, though he didn’t really understand why -, and then she’d go to bed, lying and waiting and hoping for everyone else to go too. And then she’d make her move, never staying in her room for long, creeping across the landing and into his bed.
And he’d let her. Still does.
He wonders whether it’s a coping mechanism. The need for comfort, for warmth. A channel for grief. Some way to not feel as alone as she does already.
Either way, it certainly isn’t love.
Occasionally, Mickey finds himself thinking that perhaps Rose is afraid. He wonders if she is afraid of sleeping, if she is scared of dreaming and of being alone at night with nothing but her mind to keep her company.
Perhaps he helps her to avoid that.
At night, after he’s said his “good nights” and gone to bed - and if only they knew -, he waits for the door to open. Waits for Rose to creep in. And she does. Right on schedule.
He still tenses as she crawls into his bed. He knows this is wrong. This is very, very wrong, but he’s torn between what’s right and what’s wrong and what she needs and what she wants. And right now, she wants him, here, with her, in bed. Needs him.
It’s still as often - nightly -, but not as messy and chaotic as the first time. It’s all become rather systematic. They fuck - she lies there, not strictly motionless, but not exactly enthusiastic about the whole thing, while he rocks against, into her. Her fingers grip his shoulders and she closes her eyes. Occasionally, she mumbles things. Occasionally, she cries. Occasionally, she’s struggled to yell a different name to Mickey’s entirely - and he half-expects that name of all names to utter from her mouth -, but has to bite her tongue for fear of waking everyone else up. After a while, after he’s finished and she’s finished and they’ve both decided that enough is enough - though they never speak - she gathers herself together, dresses herself once again in her pyjamas, and sleeps on the other side of the bed until daybreak.
Not a word is said over breakfast the following morning. Glances are shared, looks are given, but nothing more. It’s all “pass the butter” and “would you like some orange juice, Mickey?” and “how did you sleep last night?”
“Fine,” Rose responds. She’s lying. And Jackie knows this. “Really?”
“No.”
“Right.”
“I might get in touch with Torchwood today, though.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m glad.
“Yeah, well…if I’m staying here, might as well do something, I suppose. Can’t lounge around all day.”
“No…I suppose you’re right.”
“You’re relieved, aren’t you?”
“Hm?”
“That I’m getting out there and doing things. Looking for a job. You’re relieved.”
“I am, yeah. Just as long as you’re happy, darling.”
Rose stays silent after that. Mickey thinks she’d scoff if she could. Her mother and Pete start talking about baby names - old names, weird names, long names and short names - and whether she’d have a home birth or go into the hospital. She’s far along now, and they need to decide on these sorts of things. A nursery’s already been done up and painted. Cot, toys, a mobile and everything. Right between Rose’s room and his.
He wonders what’s going to happen once the baby’s born. If Rose will still visit him in the middle of the night. He thinks to himself “probably not”, and wonders why he feels slightly disappointed at that.
*+-+*
When the hallucinations started, Rose rather hoped they were real. They looked real. Felt - though she could never touch - real. Sounded real. And they still do. But she doesn’t hope for it anymore. She doesn’t wish for it to be true. In fact, Rose Tyler is rather glad that her hallucinations are just that. They have to be. It all has to be. He could never be this cruel, and if she’s sure of anything in this new life of hers, she’s sure of that.
“You see, Rose Tyler, if I go, if you…send me away, then what are you left with, hm?”
“Just go.”
“I’m the closest thing you’ll ever have to me, Rose.”
“I’ve got memories. I can remember.”
He grins. “Oh, yes. Memories. Like the time you deliberately went against my wishes and saved your dad’s life back in 1987? Or like the time you brought the Dalek back to life? Really fond memories, Rose. I’m so proud of you.”
“Stop it.”
“No.”
“Please.”
He laughs, and as best as a hallucination can, he stands, glancing around at the chest of drawers and at the bed and at the chair at the desk. He smirks, and turns to face her. “I know what you dream of at night.”
“Don’t.”
“Me. Or him, whichever way you want to look at it. We’re both still the Doctor.”
“You’re not the -“
“And I know you wish you fucked me you had the chance. You dream of it. And, let’s face it, Rose, you really should have done. After all, that’s why you came along, isn’t it? Bored with Mister Mickey, bored with your life, looking for some excitement and then bam, along comes me. And you just couldn’t resist.”
Rose Tyler shuts her eyes, and for a hallucination, he’s pretty persistent. She can hear him laughing. “And yet…look at you now. Parallel Earth. Living with your mum, Pete Tyler - oh, and look, Rose, there’s your daddy issues sorted right there - and Mickey. Mickety-Mick Mick. I know you’ve visited him tonight, Rose.”
“I -“
“I know you visit him many nights. I don’t like it. I don’t want you to do that anymore. It angers me.”
“Please, just -“
A knock at the door forces her eyes open. She glances around, knowing full well that he’s already gone. She looks up as her mother enters the room, dressed in nightwear and her hair curled up in pink rollers and smiling a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I heard you talking.”
“Yeah?”
Jackie nods gently, and moves to sit down next to her daughter. “You were talking to him, weren’t you?”
No point trying to hide it. “Yeah.”
“Right.”
She doesn’t believe her. She doesn’t understand. Rose shakes her head. “He was here, Mum.”
“Rose -“
“No, he was. He was standing right over there,” she indicates, “and he was talking to me. The Doctor.”
Jackie sighs. “It’s not the Doctor, Rose.”
“He said he was.”
“But he’s not, and you know that.”
*+-+*
Her mother suggests counselling, and Rose Tyler knows that there’s no way around it. They discuss how she should go about it - Jackie imagines there’ll be problems with red tape, considering she wasn’t exactly born on this Earth and doesn’t strictly have a birth certificate, but one day Pete comes home announcing he’s owed a favour from a friend who has his very own private counselling practice, and can get Rose sessions for free, no GP referral needed.
Jackie doesn’t dare ask what Pete’s done to warrant this sort of favour.
“Just as long as he helps her, yeah? I’m telling you, Pete, he better not hurt her, or you’ll be for it an’ all.”
Pete laughs, and kisses her forehead. ”You’re definitely Jackie, then.”
“Never said I wasn’t.”
Rose watches as they banter slightly, laughing and joking and grinning away like two teenage lovers. Pete places a hand on Jackie’s stomach and she looks up at him, so full of love and grinning madly and wanting him so much it doesn’t matter what universe she lives in. All that matters is that he’s alive, he’s here. They’re together again.
Rose thinks she might be jealous.
*+-+*
Her interview with Torchwood goes well. This side of the void, it’s less about upholding the British Empire and more about studying alien life forms and discovering what’s out there. So, she fits in. Tells them what she’s seen, where she’s been. Cardiff, 1869. New York, 2035. To the end of the world and back again. To war. She tells them about her universe, about the things she’s seen, about the Doctor.
She tells them everything.
They wonder if she would like to work for them. She doesn’t understand computers and she isn’t exactly weapons-trained, but they offer her a position anyway and tell her that for all her experiences, she’s too valuable to let go.
Rose Tyler doesn’t like the sound of that. But she says “yes” anyway. It’s better than working in a shop.
They want her to start straight away, but she says “no”, she has to sort a few things first, and to give her a few months. She knows they don’t like the idea of this, and she decides to be cheeky and tells them that if she really is as valuable to them as they say she is, they’ll wait.
*+-+*
”So, you got the job at Torchwood, then?”
“Yeah, I did. Please go away, I don’t want you here.”
“I’m proud of you.”
“What?”
“I’m proud of you,” he repeats. She stares at him. He looks genuine. Sincere. Like he means it. She sighs, shaking her head. He’s lying. He’s trying to trick her. ”Leave me alone.”
“I know where you’ve been.”
“What?”
“You’ve just come back from visiting Mickey, haven’t you?”
“Oh, get out.”
“I love you, Rose. Why are you doing this to me?”
“Get out!”
*+-+*
Her first appointment is full of introductions and filling in forms and of him telling her about how qualified he is. He seems friendly and kind but rather eccentric and Rose wonders whether she’s in the best possible hands. She knows she probably isn’t. He’s playing with a Rubik’s Cube and laughing as he almost gets a side complete with one colour. She wonders if he’s forgotten her. She sighs. Deliberately.
Glancing up, he squints through his glasses slightly, places down the Rubik’s Cube, and nods. “Right, yes. Erm…Rose Tyler. Nineteen -”
“Twenty.”
“- Twenty years old. And you’re here because…because of what?”
“I don’t know.” She wonders if that’s a lie. Perhaps it is.
“Your…father said you lost someone.”
“Yeah.”
“Someone you love?”
“Yeah.”
He asks who, and Rose Tyler decides that she’d rather make it up. Tells him his name was “John”, that he was a doctor, and talks about how one day, she and John decided to go travelling. She knows he’d never believe the truth. He wouldn’t understand. He asks her where they went, and she has to think, careful not to mention anywhere outside of Earth. She tells him they went all over, from Cardiff to Kyoto and back again.
At the end of their session, he tells her he would like to see her again, and asks her to arrange an appointment.
*+-+*
When they meet again, she wonders if the time is right to tell him more. So she brings up her hallucinations, and he nods and he listens and he writes down “relevant bits of information that may help piece the puzzle together”. Rose Tyler sits at an angle where she can see the notepad, and sees that there are no words. Just doodlings. She smiles to herself, and continues.
When she’s finished, she asks him what he thinks, asks if she’s going mad, and he tells her “no”, she isn’t. She’s just grieving. He tells her he thinks her hallucinations are a symptom of grief, of loss. She is in mourning, and this is the way she copes with it.
“It is possible, Miss Tyler, that somewhere in your mind you feel that if…Josh -“
“John.”
“- John is being cruel to you then you can be angry with him, hate him even.”
“I -“
“It’s easier to hate someone than to miss them.”
*+-+*
Rose Tyler wonders if three months’ worth of sessions is enough, and tells Torchwood to wait a bit longer. They’re annoyed, and understandably so, but they’ll wait.
*+-+*
She doesn’t visit Mickey in the night anymore. Well, not as often as she used to. She’s been having counselling sessions for the past five months now, and her behaviour’s not the only thing that’s changed. Jackie gave birth.
When Rose does visit him, he finds that she just wants to be held. Nothing more. A cuddle and perhaps a kiss on the forehead, a stroke of the hair, and then she’s gone. She doesn’t stay until the morning anymore.
She occasionally bumps into Jackie or Pete as they see to the baby, and although they know where she’s just come from, not a word is said. Rose bids them goodnight and returns to her room, and she’s relieved to see he isn’t there. Perhaps she can sleep tonight.
Rose Tyler decides she'll call Torchwood in the morning, and tell them she's ready.