DR WHO FIC: No Longer Rose [1/4]
Title: No Longer Rose
Author: charlottetrips
Rating: PG-13
Genre: drama, angst (!)
Characters: Rose Tyler, Ten II, Tenth Doctor
Summary:
1.
It started when they died.
It had been a little side trip that they'd taken on because someone had asked. Pick up a packet of hycant leaves from the only city on the planet that traded them and bring the leaves back. They had time, they figured, so they'd gone.
They hadn't been told they'd end up in the middle of a civil riot.
All she really could recall-even when she thought about it over and over for years to come, even when the memory started to fade and she cried when she couldn't recall every detail of his face, the smiles he threw at her or that sparkle in his eyes-all she could remember was the angry crackle of a blaster and the blinding painful flash of green that had engulfed them as they stepped out of the TARDIS.
When she came to, she found herself on the ground, arms spread wide and her limbs tingling. Taking the extra energy running through her as latent adrenaline, she pulled herself up and immediately set to making sure the Doctor was okay.
She found him a few feet away from the TARDIS, face down in the dirt. He wasn't breathing. Her knees collapsed, tears already blinding her though she struggled to keep them back. He wasn't dead, couldn't be dead, he's just unconscious, she told herself, told the stabbing pain in her chest. Quickly, as her wispy delusion prepared to be completely blown away, she turned him over, took in his unseeing eyes and felt cracks spider across her soul.
Still hanging onto a thin thread of hope, she placed her hands over his chest, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the cold truth. The truth that confronted her a moment later. That single heartbeat that had been the monitor of her existence these past few years was gone.
She felt the dams break.
The sobs shook her body, taking the strength out of her and she fell across her lover's body, her head turned to the side, still desperate to learn that she was wrong. But there was no denying it. He'd told her he only had one life.
Anger swept through her and she lifted her head to beat against his chest. "You were supposed to spend your life with me!" she cried, each word emphasized with her fists. His face showed no reaction. The surge of futile anger left her and her hands fell one last time in defeat. "You weren't supposed to leave me," she whispered.
Head bowed, she stared at his face for a long moment, taking in the planes, the shadows and even those fine wrinkles that had started to appear. His eyes stared up at the sky, lifeless. Feeling as if her arm was made of granite, she brought her hand to his face, closing his eyes. And for the first time registered that something was different about herself.
Her hand was the color of milk chocolate. She stared at it in incomprehension. She found the same condition with her other hand as she brought it up to rub at her skin. The color wasn't coming off.
Incredulously, she brought those hands (that were not hers yet were) up to her hair. It felt different. Grabbing a fistful, she brought it to her face. Black. Her hair was black.
Though she knew, she knew it, she brought her hands up to her chest, one on each side. Tears fell as the undeniable fact crashed into her like a two-stone weight.
She had a double heartbeat.
summary quote from "Army of Ghosts"
2.
Author: charlottetrips
Rating: PG-13
Genre: drama, angst (!)
Characters: Rose Tyler, Ten II, Tenth Doctor
Summary:
1.
It started when they died.
It had been a little side trip that they'd taken on because someone had asked. Pick up a packet of hycant leaves from the only city on the planet that traded them and bring the leaves back. They had time, they figured, so they'd gone.
They hadn't been told they'd end up in the middle of a civil riot.
All she really could recall-even when she thought about it over and over for years to come, even when the memory started to fade and she cried when she couldn't recall every detail of his face, the smiles he threw at her or that sparkle in his eyes-all she could remember was the angry crackle of a blaster and the blinding painful flash of green that had engulfed them as they stepped out of the TARDIS.
When she came to, she found herself on the ground, arms spread wide and her limbs tingling. Taking the extra energy running through her as latent adrenaline, she pulled herself up and immediately set to making sure the Doctor was okay.
She found him a few feet away from the TARDIS, face down in the dirt. He wasn't breathing. Her knees collapsed, tears already blinding her though she struggled to keep them back. He wasn't dead, couldn't be dead, he's just unconscious, she told herself, told the stabbing pain in her chest. Quickly, as her wispy delusion prepared to be completely blown away, she turned him over, took in his unseeing eyes and felt cracks spider across her soul.
Still hanging onto a thin thread of hope, she placed her hands over his chest, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the cold truth. The truth that confronted her a moment later. That single heartbeat that had been the monitor of her existence these past few years was gone.
She felt the dams break.
The sobs shook her body, taking the strength out of her and she fell across her lover's body, her head turned to the side, still desperate to learn that she was wrong. But there was no denying it. He'd told her he only had one life.
Anger swept through her and she lifted her head to beat against his chest. "You were supposed to spend your life with me!" she cried, each word emphasized with her fists. His face showed no reaction. The surge of futile anger left her and her hands fell one last time in defeat. "You weren't supposed to leave me," she whispered.
Head bowed, she stared at his face for a long moment, taking in the planes, the shadows and even those fine wrinkles that had started to appear. His eyes stared up at the sky, lifeless. Feeling as if her arm was made of granite, she brought her hand to his face, closing his eyes. And for the first time registered that something was different about herself.
Her hand was the color of milk chocolate. She stared at it in incomprehension. She found the same condition with her other hand as she brought it up to rub at her skin. The color wasn't coming off.
Incredulously, she brought those hands (that were not hers yet were) up to her hair. It felt different. Grabbing a fistful, she brought it to her face. Black. Her hair was black.
Though she knew, she knew it, she brought her hands up to her chest, one on each side. Tears fell as the undeniable fact crashed into her like a two-stone weight.
She had a double heartbeat.
summary quote from "Army of Ghosts"
2.