Fic: Selfish 1/1
Story: Selfish
Author: wmr
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose
Rated: PG13 and warning for one strong word
Summary: "Does anyone really know you, Doctor? Cause I thought I did."
Written for
christn7, who requested 'eight months after Guilt'; in order to make sense of both of these fics, you really need to have read Blood on his Hands. With much appreciation to
dark_aegis for BRing and hand-holding. Posting only on my LJ for now, as I'm more unsure about this than about anything else I've written. And,
christn7, if you don't like this just tell me and I'll try your request again.
Selfish
Two days after Mickey stays behind in the other universe, he finally finishes healing the TARDIS. Getting back took a lot out of her, and he couldn’t even let her rest immediately because Rose needed her mum. Now, though, she’s better. He gives the console a reassuring stroke, and then looks around in surprise.
When’s he last seen Rose? He could’ve sworn she was here. And yet... No, not in the last twenty-four hours, at least.
He finally runs her to ground in the conservatory. She’s sitting by a tiny pot plant - barely more than a twig, really - lost in thought.
Ah.
“I’m sorry he’s gone.” He looks down at her.
She starts, then looks up at him. “Yeah?”
He nods. “Course. Oh, I know I was rude to him, but you know me. I’m only rude to people I like. Unless I don’t like them.”
“Yeah, I know you.” Her voice is low. Suddenly, she comes to a decision. Dumps the plant on the floor and stands, chin tilted so she’s meeting his gaze. “Actually, I don’t. Does anyone, Doctor? Does anyone really know you? Cause I thought I did. I really thought I understood you. But I don’t have the first clue what goes on inside your head.”
“What?” He blinks. “Look, Mickey made - ”
“His own decision. Right. I’m not talking about Mickey.”
“Then what’s this about?” Because it’s about something. She’s angry. Angry and hurt, he thinks. Irritation flares, but he damps it down. His fault, after all, that she’s lost Mickey.
“That spaceship. The one with the clockwork robots.” The sharpness in her voice reminds him of Jackie.
Ah. Surprising, really, that this hasn’t come up before now. “I had to go. To save her. If I hadn’t, history - ”
“Could have changed. I know. An’ I didn’t say this was about Reinette.”
“What, then?” Barely holding onto temper, he snaps the words.
“We were in the fifty-first century, Doctor. An’ you didn’t even notice.”
“What? What d’you mean, I didn’t notice? I’m the one who told you when we were.” She’s not making a bit of sense. Humans!
“That’s when Jack’s from. We were in his century, an’ you never said a word.”
“What was I supposed to say?” He blows out a breath. “It wasn’t as if we could’ve gone and seen him. Thought you’d learned your lesson about paradoxes.”
If he expected her to retreat at that, she disappoints him. “I know that. ‘S just... Doctor, do you always do this?”
“Do what?”
“Leave people behind. An’ then act as if they never existed.” Before he can answer, she’s pressing on. “Sarah Jane - you abandoned her in Scotland! And never talked about her. Jack - he wasn’t with us when we left Satellite Five, an’ you’ve never mentioned him. Changed the subject any time I asked. Now Mickey’s gone.”
“I mention Mickey!” he protests. “Mentioned him just now.”
Her response is a glare.
No, he never mentions Jack. For good reason.
Jack is dead. And, while he didn’t pull the trigger himself, he’s responsible for it.
He saved Jack from his ship. Invited him on board the TARDIS. Showed off to him, dangled Rose in front of him, played hard to get, flirted because he could.
To protect himself, he decided Jack could be the one to break Rose’s heart. He allowed Jack to seduce Rose away from him. He did everything he could to push her towards Jack.
He didn’t expect to be seduced himself as well.
For a while, it was the three of them, companions in bed and out of it. For a while, he could even pretend that it would be okay. That, for once, no-one would get hurt. No hearts would get broken. That, like the day he saved Jack, everybody would live.
Until they didn’t.
He saved Jack. He changed him from a conman to a hero. In bed and out of it, Jack admired him. Wanted to be like him. Died for him.
On Satellite Five, he saved Rose and abandoned Jack to his fate. And then he left and never looked back.
This is why he never talks about Jack. Because he killed Jack. He chose Rose over him and left him to die.
And Rose’s heart broke anyway, just as Jack’s body did.
Nothing’s been the same since. He regenerated. She’s still learning him, the new him. He no longer shags her, and she no longer expects him to. New new Doctor. No using companions to forget, to dull the pain. Not now.
But that’s not really why. It’s punishment. For him, for putting her above Jack. For her, for making him need her.
Twice, now, he’s put her life above others’. The trouble is, he’d do it again.
He’s the Oncoming Storm. The Bringer of Darkness. One of the most dangerous beings in the universe. She is far more dangerous, because of the power she has over him.
He should take her home, back to the Powell Estates in 2007. That’s the right thing to do.
But, as she stares up at him, anger slowly turning to hurt the longer he stays silent, shutting her out, he knows he won’t.
“Jack’s dead.” The words spill out. Tears shimmer in her eyes, along with a question.
“The Daleks killed him.”
She chokes back a sob. “Can we go back for him? Shouldn’t’ve just left him there.”
For a moment, he misunderstands, until he realises she means his body.
No. He never goes back. Never.
She wants to argue. And he... he just wants to forget.
“No.” He’s already dipping his head as he says it. “No,” he repeats, against her lips.
She thinks his kiss is comfort. Thinks his hands on her body are reassurance. Thinks his body in hers as he fucks her against the wall is consolation.
It’s not. It’s amnesia.
It’s possession, too. The badge of ownership, the invisible mark that says he’s keeping her, no matter that he shouldn’t. No matter that he’ll break her heart again before he’s finished with her.
He already knows she’ll stay with him for ever - her forever - if he lets her. And he’s lost everyone else, after all. Why should he forfeit her, too?
Selfishness was never an exclusively human vice, he knows.
END
Author: wmr
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose
Rated: PG13 and warning for one strong word
Summary: "Does anyone really know you, Doctor? Cause I thought I did."
Written for
christn7, who requested 'eight months after Guilt'; in order to make sense of both of these fics, you really need to have read Blood on his Hands. With much appreciation to
dark_aegis for BRing and hand-holding. Posting only on my LJ for now, as I'm more unsure about this than about anything else I've written. And,
christn7, if you don't like this just tell me and I'll try your request again.
Selfish
Two days after Mickey stays behind in the other universe, he finally finishes healing the TARDIS. Getting back took a lot out of her, and he couldn’t even let her rest immediately because Rose needed her mum. Now, though, she’s better. He gives the console a reassuring stroke, and then looks around in surprise.
When’s he last seen Rose? He could’ve sworn she was here. And yet... No, not in the last twenty-four hours, at least.
He finally runs her to ground in the conservatory. She’s sitting by a tiny pot plant - barely more than a twig, really - lost in thought.
Ah.
“I’m sorry he’s gone.” He looks down at her.
She starts, then looks up at him. “Yeah?”
He nods. “Course. Oh, I know I was rude to him, but you know me. I’m only rude to people I like. Unless I don’t like them.”
“Yeah, I know you.” Her voice is low. Suddenly, she comes to a decision. Dumps the plant on the floor and stands, chin tilted so she’s meeting his gaze. “Actually, I don’t. Does anyone, Doctor? Does anyone really know you? Cause I thought I did. I really thought I understood you. But I don’t have the first clue what goes on inside your head.”
“What?” He blinks. “Look, Mickey made - ”
“His own decision. Right. I’m not talking about Mickey.”
“Then what’s this about?” Because it’s about something. She’s angry. Angry and hurt, he thinks. Irritation flares, but he damps it down. His fault, after all, that she’s lost Mickey.
“That spaceship. The one with the clockwork robots.” The sharpness in her voice reminds him of Jackie.
Ah. Surprising, really, that this hasn’t come up before now. “I had to go. To save her. If I hadn’t, history - ”
“Could have changed. I know. An’ I didn’t say this was about Reinette.”
“What, then?” Barely holding onto temper, he snaps the words.
“We were in the fifty-first century, Doctor. An’ you didn’t even notice.”
“What? What d’you mean, I didn’t notice? I’m the one who told you when we were.” She’s not making a bit of sense. Humans!
“That’s when Jack’s from. We were in his century, an’ you never said a word.”
“What was I supposed to say?” He blows out a breath. “It wasn’t as if we could’ve gone and seen him. Thought you’d learned your lesson about paradoxes.”
If he expected her to retreat at that, she disappoints him. “I know that. ‘S just... Doctor, do you always do this?”
“Do what?”
“Leave people behind. An’ then act as if they never existed.” Before he can answer, she’s pressing on. “Sarah Jane - you abandoned her in Scotland! And never talked about her. Jack - he wasn’t with us when we left Satellite Five, an’ you’ve never mentioned him. Changed the subject any time I asked. Now Mickey’s gone.”
“I mention Mickey!” he protests. “Mentioned him just now.”
Her response is a glare.
No, he never mentions Jack. For good reason.
Jack is dead. And, while he didn’t pull the trigger himself, he’s responsible for it.
He saved Jack from his ship. Invited him on board the TARDIS. Showed off to him, dangled Rose in front of him, played hard to get, flirted because he could.
To protect himself, he decided Jack could be the one to break Rose’s heart. He allowed Jack to seduce Rose away from him. He did everything he could to push her towards Jack.
He didn’t expect to be seduced himself as well.
For a while, it was the three of them, companions in bed and out of it. For a while, he could even pretend that it would be okay. That, for once, no-one would get hurt. No hearts would get broken. That, like the day he saved Jack, everybody would live.
Until they didn’t.
He saved Jack. He changed him from a conman to a hero. In bed and out of it, Jack admired him. Wanted to be like him. Died for him.
On Satellite Five, he saved Rose and abandoned Jack to his fate. And then he left and never looked back.
This is why he never talks about Jack. Because he killed Jack. He chose Rose over him and left him to die.
And Rose’s heart broke anyway, just as Jack’s body did.
Nothing’s been the same since. He regenerated. She’s still learning him, the new him. He no longer shags her, and she no longer expects him to. New new Doctor. No using companions to forget, to dull the pain. Not now.
But that’s not really why. It’s punishment. For him, for putting her above Jack. For her, for making him need her.
Twice, now, he’s put her life above others’. The trouble is, he’d do it again.
He’s the Oncoming Storm. The Bringer of Darkness. One of the most dangerous beings in the universe. She is far more dangerous, because of the power she has over him.
He should take her home, back to the Powell Estates in 2007. That’s the right thing to do.
But, as she stares up at him, anger slowly turning to hurt the longer he stays silent, shutting her out, he knows he won’t.
“Jack’s dead.” The words spill out. Tears shimmer in her eyes, along with a question.
“The Daleks killed him.”
She chokes back a sob. “Can we go back for him? Shouldn’t’ve just left him there.”
For a moment, he misunderstands, until he realises she means his body.
No. He never goes back. Never.
She wants to argue. And he... he just wants to forget.
“No.” He’s already dipping his head as he says it. “No,” he repeats, against her lips.
She thinks his kiss is comfort. Thinks his hands on her body are reassurance. Thinks his body in hers as he fucks her against the wall is consolation.
It’s not. It’s amnesia.
It’s possession, too. The badge of ownership, the invisible mark that says he’s keeping her, no matter that he shouldn’t. No matter that he’ll break her heart again before he’s finished with her.
He already knows she’ll stay with him for ever - her forever - if he lets her. And he’s lost everyone else, after all. Why should he forfeit her, too?
Selfishness was never an exclusively human vice, he knows.
END