The One True Free Life 5/26
Title: The One True Free Life (5/26)
Characters: Alt!Ten/Rose, and everyone else I can cram in to the Alt!Verse, plus several OCs
Rating: Teen for more smoochin'!
Spoilers: Everything
Disclaimer: It would be a very different, and possibly quite upsetting, world if I owned these characters. For the sake of the world's children, I don't.
This chapter is as of yet unbeta'd, so read at your own risk.
Summary: When Rose and Alt!Ten return to Pete's World, after a much longer absence than planned, they find that things have begun to go a bit pear-shaped there. Can Our Heroes save the British Republic while at the same time working out their own Byzantinely complicated personal issues?
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 26/ Epilogue | Whole story on Teaspoon
Nothing but silence. It was still taking some getting used to. Not only the process of waking from a deep sleep, which was disorienting enough, but waking to find silence in his head where once there had been the TARDIS always and, for a brief time, two others as well. The four-part harmony they sang together still echoed, but the original was long gone. Once the reverberations fully played themselves out, he would never hear it again, though "never" was a considerably shorter period of time for him now. That was some consolation.
He wouldn't again have a communion like he did with his other self, standing side-by-side, outwardly gurning and babbling and laughing, as everyone expected of them both, but in their minds, a perfect sublime concordance.
You must never tell her. If she thinks we are happy here, she will be happy with you there.
She has to choose to be happy herself. It's not for us to engineer.
I love her.
I know.
And he shared his memories of her, from the time he'd lost his hand through to that very moment. He shared his foreknowledge, the fraying end of Donna's timeline, the sickening truth of it. The guilt as well, the rage, the terrible loneliness. And the commandment. Be free.
The Doctor found his suit already laundered and pressed, hanging on the inside of the bathroom door. Naysayers be damned, he still quite liked it. There didn't seem to be the right sort of hair product available in the medicine chest, and, he supposed, there wouldn't be anywhere on this planet. It had been hard work always trying to make up different excuses to visit the grand market of Tellurine XIII just so he could get more of the wax he liked. He was afraid his hair just wouldn't be as great without it and felt a sudden wave of...something. It started in his chest, where it tightened around his heart for a moment before moving in to his throat and lodging there. It couldn't be insecurity, could it? He squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head, and it was gone. Fascinating.
It was still quite early in the morning and there was just Pete in the breakfast room. Deepa and Tony played in the garden, their happy cries sounding quite new and splendid in the Doctor's ears.
"Jackie having a bit of a lie-in?" he asked as he sat down at the table. Pete folded up his newspaper and pushed a coffee carafe and an empty mug towards him.
"And Rose too." There was something in his eye, halfway between a threat and a twinkle.
The Doctor ran a hand through his imperfect hair. "I suppose."
"I'm just in the habit of getting up early. I'm not sure retirement's really going to suit."
"You nor me," the Doctor sighed. He perked up again. "Still, can't be all that bad. It sounds like Torchwood wasn't really the place for you anyway. All that bureaucracy, the office politics. Men like us, maybe we're not such good fits for that kind of life."
"Like us, eh? But you're right, once Heths got his cronies on to the board, all they did was make my life miserable. I'm happy to be rid of the lot of them."
The Doctor began to spread some marmalade on a muffin. "This Heths chap, some big muckity-muck is he? I've no tolerance for muckity-mucks myself."
Pete chuckled. "Secretary of Education now. Though who knows for how much longer. The election's coming up and his political star has been doing a fair bit of rising. He did once work for Torchwood, though. But I think he quickly saw that working for a secretive organization was not the best way to fulfil his ambitions. It's hard to make sure everyone's impressed with what you do when you're not allowed to tell anyone about it. Left after a couple of years."
The Doctor munched thoughtfully on a muffin. "I'd just assumed you'd draft me in to working for you. Now I suppose I'll have to...." He made a face. "Get a job."
Pete's features got very serious and the Doctor almost forgot to keep chewing.
"You helped save this world, how many times now? Three is it? I want you to know that whatever you and Rose decide to do, I'll support you both. We're Tylers and we stick together."
The Doctor smiled, thin-lipped and full of dimples.
"But if you hurt her," Pete continued, "the Void will seem like paradise compared to what your life here will become."
And then there were no more dimples. Not for the rest of breakfast nor for quite a while after.
~o0o~
Rose went down the list, ticking things off as she moved her eyes slowly over an enormous pile of bags and boxes in front of her. "Shirts, vests, pants, trousers, shoes...." She looked up at the Doctor where he stood tracing little curvilinear shapes with his foot. "You really going to stick with the trainers?"
He knit his brow. "'Course. Why wouldn't I?"
She winked at him and then met his gaze half-lidded. "Good," she purred.
He pushed down the desire to grab hold of her right there in the shop, noting that none of the other couples around seemed to be behaving that way. How did they stop themselves? It was a mystery he made a mental note to investigate further.
"And have we missed anything?" And now she was back to acting business-like.
He coughed a little in to his hand. "I'm not sure, but," he lowered his voice, "I think I might need specs."
There was that blasted smirk again, and with a raised eyebrow as well. "I thought you only wore those to look impressive." She got right up to his ear now, her breath making the hairs there stand on end. "And you do look very, very impressive in them."
"Then I definitely need specs."
"We'll see what we can do." Back to professional, not-at-all-sexy relations.
He rubbed the back of his head vigorously, trying to concentrate. "I don't know why I couldn't have done all this myself. You could have stayed at home and relaxed."
"Because you don't have any money, Doctor. Hard to buy yourself a totally new wardrobe with no dosh, yeah? Besides, this is sort of every girl's dream come true, dressing up her...whatever."
She mumbled the last bit but before he could ask for clarification she stood on her tip-toes and kissed him. In front of shop girls and passers-by and everyone.
Suddenly it didn't matter if it was allowed or punishable by death, she'd captured his bottom lip and was sucking on it and there was really nothing else for it. He opened his mouth over hers a little bit more, she brought her arms around his neck and pulled him down, and there was a whooshing sound in his ears. Nothing in his memories as a Time Lord was precedent for this complete lack of control over his actions, and when she pulled away again he had no idea if they'd been there like that for an hour or a minute.
She was flushed, a golden-pink glow rising up her bosom and her neck to rest in her cheeks. He blinked. This could not possibly be the same Rose that he'd lived with more-or-less chastely for all that time. How was that even remotely possible? The very idea that he'd have been able to share so much with her yet not feel her in this way was completely daft. Something had to have been missing from the memories that had been given to him. There was no other logical explanation.
He did up one more button on his suit jacket, just for something to do with his hands. "Can we go home now? I think I fancy some...supper."
"What about your specs?" Her eyes were once again all innocence, which should have been aggravating but in reality was rather stimulating.
"Sod 'em." (To Chapter 6)
Characters: Alt!Ten/Rose, and everyone else I can cram in to the Alt!Verse, plus several OCs
Rating: Teen for more smoochin'!
Spoilers: Everything
Disclaimer: It would be a very different, and possibly quite upsetting, world if I owned these characters. For the sake of the world's children, I don't.
This chapter is as of yet unbeta'd, so read at your own risk.
Summary: When Rose and Alt!Ten return to Pete's World, after a much longer absence than planned, they find that things have begun to go a bit pear-shaped there. Can Our Heroes save the British Republic while at the same time working out their own Byzantinely complicated personal issues?
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 26/ Epilogue | Whole story on Teaspoon
Nothing but silence. It was still taking some getting used to. Not only the process of waking from a deep sleep, which was disorienting enough, but waking to find silence in his head where once there had been the TARDIS always and, for a brief time, two others as well. The four-part harmony they sang together still echoed, but the original was long gone. Once the reverberations fully played themselves out, he would never hear it again, though "never" was a considerably shorter period of time for him now. That was some consolation.
He wouldn't again have a communion like he did with his other self, standing side-by-side, outwardly gurning and babbling and laughing, as everyone expected of them both, but in their minds, a perfect sublime concordance.
You must never tell her. If she thinks we are happy here, she will be happy with you there.
She has to choose to be happy herself. It's not for us to engineer.
I love her.
I know.
And he shared his memories of her, from the time he'd lost his hand through to that very moment. He shared his foreknowledge, the fraying end of Donna's timeline, the sickening truth of it. The guilt as well, the rage, the terrible loneliness. And the commandment. Be free.
The Doctor found his suit already laundered and pressed, hanging on the inside of the bathroom door. Naysayers be damned, he still quite liked it. There didn't seem to be the right sort of hair product available in the medicine chest, and, he supposed, there wouldn't be anywhere on this planet. It had been hard work always trying to make up different excuses to visit the grand market of Tellurine XIII just so he could get more of the wax he liked. He was afraid his hair just wouldn't be as great without it and felt a sudden wave of...something. It started in his chest, where it tightened around his heart for a moment before moving in to his throat and lodging there. It couldn't be insecurity, could it? He squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head, and it was gone. Fascinating.
It was still quite early in the morning and there was just Pete in the breakfast room. Deepa and Tony played in the garden, their happy cries sounding quite new and splendid in the Doctor's ears.
"Jackie having a bit of a lie-in?" he asked as he sat down at the table. Pete folded up his newspaper and pushed a coffee carafe and an empty mug towards him.
"And Rose too." There was something in his eye, halfway between a threat and a twinkle.
The Doctor ran a hand through his imperfect hair. "I suppose."
"I'm just in the habit of getting up early. I'm not sure retirement's really going to suit."
"You nor me," the Doctor sighed. He perked up again. "Still, can't be all that bad. It sounds like Torchwood wasn't really the place for you anyway. All that bureaucracy, the office politics. Men like us, maybe we're not such good fits for that kind of life."
"Like us, eh? But you're right, once Heths got his cronies on to the board, all they did was make my life miserable. I'm happy to be rid of the lot of them."
The Doctor began to spread some marmalade on a muffin. "This Heths chap, some big muckity-muck is he? I've no tolerance for muckity-mucks myself."
Pete chuckled. "Secretary of Education now. Though who knows for how much longer. The election's coming up and his political star has been doing a fair bit of rising. He did once work for Torchwood, though. But I think he quickly saw that working for a secretive organization was not the best way to fulfil his ambitions. It's hard to make sure everyone's impressed with what you do when you're not allowed to tell anyone about it. Left after a couple of years."
The Doctor munched thoughtfully on a muffin. "I'd just assumed you'd draft me in to working for you. Now I suppose I'll have to...." He made a face. "Get a job."
Pete's features got very serious and the Doctor almost forgot to keep chewing.
"You helped save this world, how many times now? Three is it? I want you to know that whatever you and Rose decide to do, I'll support you both. We're Tylers and we stick together."
The Doctor smiled, thin-lipped and full of dimples.
"But if you hurt her," Pete continued, "the Void will seem like paradise compared to what your life here will become."
And then there were no more dimples. Not for the rest of breakfast nor for quite a while after.
~o0o~
Rose went down the list, ticking things off as she moved her eyes slowly over an enormous pile of bags and boxes in front of her. "Shirts, vests, pants, trousers, shoes...." She looked up at the Doctor where he stood tracing little curvilinear shapes with his foot. "You really going to stick with the trainers?"
He knit his brow. "'Course. Why wouldn't I?"
She winked at him and then met his gaze half-lidded. "Good," she purred.
He pushed down the desire to grab hold of her right there in the shop, noting that none of the other couples around seemed to be behaving that way. How did they stop themselves? It was a mystery he made a mental note to investigate further.
"And have we missed anything?" And now she was back to acting business-like.
He coughed a little in to his hand. "I'm not sure, but," he lowered his voice, "I think I might need specs."
There was that blasted smirk again, and with a raised eyebrow as well. "I thought you only wore those to look impressive." She got right up to his ear now, her breath making the hairs there stand on end. "And you do look very, very impressive in them."
"Then I definitely need specs."
"We'll see what we can do." Back to professional, not-at-all-sexy relations.
He rubbed the back of his head vigorously, trying to concentrate. "I don't know why I couldn't have done all this myself. You could have stayed at home and relaxed."
"Because you don't have any money, Doctor. Hard to buy yourself a totally new wardrobe with no dosh, yeah? Besides, this is sort of every girl's dream come true, dressing up her...whatever."
She mumbled the last bit but before he could ask for clarification she stood on her tip-toes and kissed him. In front of shop girls and passers-by and everyone.
Suddenly it didn't matter if it was allowed or punishable by death, she'd captured his bottom lip and was sucking on it and there was really nothing else for it. He opened his mouth over hers a little bit more, she brought her arms around his neck and pulled him down, and there was a whooshing sound in his ears. Nothing in his memories as a Time Lord was precedent for this complete lack of control over his actions, and when she pulled away again he had no idea if they'd been there like that for an hour or a minute.
She was flushed, a golden-pink glow rising up her bosom and her neck to rest in her cheeks. He blinked. This could not possibly be the same Rose that he'd lived with more-or-less chastely for all that time. How was that even remotely possible? The very idea that he'd have been able to share so much with her yet not feel her in this way was completely daft. Something had to have been missing from the memories that had been given to him. There was no other logical explanation.
He did up one more button on his suit jacket, just for something to do with his hands. "Can we go home now? I think I fancy some...supper."
"What about your specs?" Her eyes were once again all innocence, which should have been aggravating but in reality was rather stimulating.
"Sod 'em." (To Chapter 6)