Fic: "And Dismantle the Sun"
Title: And Dismantle the Sun
Author: icebluenothing
Rating: G
Spoilers: Set after Series Two; spoilers through Doomsday
Summary: Can Rose adjust to normal life when her life had been anything but normal?
________
So that was my story. The story of how a 900-year old alien had saved a London shop girl and taken her on the trip of a lifetime.
What they don't tell you is, when the stories are over, the days go on.
That was the story of how I died. This is what happened after.
* * * *
"Here you are, then," Mickey said from the doorway. "Your dad's been looking everywhere for you."
Rose shook her head. "He's not my dad," she said almost absently. She was just staring out the window, up here in one of the guest rooms. The house was new, smaller than what Pete was used to -- his idea of modest -- but it still had guest rooms.
"Rose, come on. You're not going to be like that, are you? Not today."
"Not today." She sighed and folded her arms over her chest. "No, I wouldn't want to ruin the baby shower, now, would I?"
Mickey smiled gently. "Don't tell me you're jealous of the baby."
Rose sat down heavily on the bed. "I know it's stupid," she said. "But seriously, how can I not be? It's been all she can talk about for weeks. Baby shoes, baby clothes, what color to paint the nursery -- "
He came and sat down next to her and took her hand.
"She's the only familiar thing to me here, the only thing besides you, and I feel like I'm losing her, Mickey! Once the baby comes, that's all she's gonna care about, and I'm gonna lose her, just like -- just like I lost -- "
"Rose, come on. Don't do this to yourself."
She looked out the window again, trying not to cry. She watched the dirigibles drifting serenely by and wished she were on one. Looking down at all of this from far away. I've seen everything, the whole world, from much farther away than that, she thought. But it'd be something.
"Does it ever get any easier?"
"Does what? Life, you mean?"
"Yeah, I guess. This place. This Earth. You've been here, what, three years now?"
"Something like that, yeah."
"I'm just not getting used to it. Each time I start to forget and think we're home, something just slaps me in the face and reminds me. Like buying something down at the shops and staring into my purse and not recognizing any of the money for a second. Or seeing 'People's Republic of England' on everything. I mean, the newspapers don't make any sense, do they? Do you ever get used to it?"
He nodded. "A little bit, yeah. I mean, the big changes stop mattering. People are still the same, at least."
"Yeah. People are the same everywhere." She wiped at her eyes. "Even when -- even when they're not really people, I mean, even if they're blue, or they look like trees, or whatever, they're still people. That was the first thing he taught me."
"The Doctor, you mean. You still miss him, don't you?"
She let go of his hand.
"Sorry," Mickey said. "Stupid question."
"I told him I loved him, Mickey," she said, so quietly he almost couldn't hear.
"I know," he said.
"He was gonna tell me he loved me. Right at the end there. I know he was." She wiped at her eyes again. She sounded so sure, but she looked at him, as if she wanted him to confirm it.
His eyes softened. "You mean you didn't already know that?" he said. "I guess you never saw him look at you the way I'd catch him doing. Rose, listen." He reached for her hand again. "I saw him save the world a dozen times. And sometimes I think he only did it because you were in it."
She shook her head. "He'd have been doing it even if he never met me."
"Sure. But I think it meant more to him like this."
She looked down at the hand that was reaching out to her and took it. Leaned against his shoulder.
"You're so different now," she said. "You used to be so jealous of him."
"Yeah, well, I've had three years to get over it," he said. "But I won't lie to you. When the breach closed? For a second, I was just -- so happy that you were here and safe and that he was never gonna take you away again." He shrugged. "I was mad that I was happy. If that makes sense. But, yeah."
"Yeah? You were?"
"Yeah," he said. He looked up at the clock on the wall. "Come on, we really should be getting downstairs, before Jackie completely loses it." He grinned. "You okay?"
I don't know if I'm ever going to be okay, she thought. "I'm okay," she told him, and she made herself smile, and she made herself get up, and she made herself go downstairs and join the party.
* * * *
Rose was dead to the world. The Doctor had told her that. Back in what, all these months later, she still thought of as the real world, she'd been declared missing, presumed dead. She wondered, sometimes, if there had been a funeral. She wondered if the Doctor had attended.
She wondered if he'd ever told anyone any different. If he would think to look up her old mate Shareen, or -- or anyone -- and tell them that Rose Tyler was alive and well. He probably hadn't.
She was alive here. Legally, even. Pete had friends in the People's Republic provisional government, and there was so much chaos in the wake of the Cybermen that records were easy to change around. She had a full set of identity cards, a passport, school records.
The story was simple. When baby Elizabeth was born, Pete held a press conference. A press conference. He introduced Elizabeth to the world, and he introduced them to Rose as well, and she made herself smile wide while blinking under the harsh glare of the photographer's lights. She was his and Jackie's daughter, born early in their marriage when money had been tight, and sent to live with better-off relatives in America, and who chose to stay there in later years to live a normal life, to live a life outside of the media circus. (Rose's teeth ground together hard at those words, normal life, but she kept smiling for the cameras.)
But now that the Cybermen crisis had passed, and the world needed rebuilding, it was more important to him than ever to have his whole family together again. To have both his daughters and his newly relocated wife together under his roof.
There was applause from the press corps. Rose's life was one huge bright lie now.
I can't do this, she thought, and determined right then that she needed to get out of the limelight. And as far into the shadows as possible.
* * * *
Rose sat in the chair in the Torchwood office and tried not to tap her foot or chew her nails.
The woman on the other side of the desk just sat and looked over Rose's C.V. -- itself mostly lies -- with her mouth drawn downward with tight, faintly disapproving lines around it. She said nothing.
Finally, without looking up, she said, "I assume you don't have a governmental security clearance level?"
"Umm. No, I don't." Rose thought a moment. "I could probably get one, though."
"And I note from your C.V. that you have no professional security, counterintel, or scientific experience?"
"Well, no, but -- "
The woman smiled tightly and handed the C.V. back to her. "I'm sorry, Ms. Tyler. But I don't think we can use you."
"But -- "
"Thank you for taking the time to come in today."
"Wait. Wait just a minute." Rose was holding tight to the arms of her chair. "What are you saying? I'm not good enough because I don't have enough experience? Are you kidding me?"
"Ms. Tyler -- "
"I've been off this planet. Have you? You need me here. You people are all about aliens -- well, I've met more aliens than you lot ever will."
"For example?"
"Daleks, right, you know that. Gelth. The Slitheen. The Sycorax."
"Never heard of them."
"Never heard of them? The Sycorax tried to invade back in -- "
"Ms. Tyler. No. They didn't." The woman leaned forward. "That's just what I'm trying to tell you. Your references tell me that you're from the parallel timeline we discovered. Now, that's interesting, of course -- we wouldn't mind studying you, actually -- but it means you're not useful to us."
"Why?"
"Because the aliens you encountered may have entirely different technologies, methodologies, and social structures in our timeline. Or they might not even exist here. So any information you had for us would be useless. No, worse than useless -- it could be actively misleading."
"Oh." Rose's shoulders sagged. "I hadn't thought of that."
The woman smiled unpleasantly. "No," she said. "You didn't."
"But -- ” Rose was staring down at the desk, focused on nothing in particular. "I have so much experience, just dealing with aliens, figuring them out -- "
"I'm sure you do." The woman behind the desk gestured to the guard at the door. "But you're going to leave that to the professionals from now on."
Silently, Rose let herself be led out. She took one last look around the compound, eyes taking in all the scavenged alien technology, everything that had fallen here from stars she was never going to touch again.
* * * *
"Well, to hell with them," Pete said. "They don't know what they're missing." He drained the last of another beer. "It's not like my little girl needs to work for a living, anyway."
"I need to do something with myself -- " she said. Her voice caught at the end of the sentence, unsure for the hundredth time whether to say "Pete" or "Dad."
"Cheers to that," Mickey said, raising his pint to her. "I'd be going nuts if I weren't working on the reconstruction crews with my boy Jake here." He clapped Jake on the shoulder.
Jake nodded, grinning. "We can always use another pair of hands, Rose," he said.
"Yeah, I can just see myself swinging a sledgehammer all day," she said. "No, ta."
One of the boys. That's what she was, tonight. Her mum was off with some of her new friends -- this world's Jackie's old friends, actually, who hadn't even noticed a difference -- and Rose had been asked down to the local for a little reunion. Some of the rebels who'd come over to her world and fought the Cybermen. They didn't look right to her out of commando gear, in normal clothes just sitting around having a drink like everyone else.
They were moving on. Getting back to normal life, whatever that meant her. She couldn't see any of them without thinking about that last stand, thinking about the Void opening up to swallow her, not being able to hold on to the world, to the Doctor --
She finished the last of her beer in one long swallow and immediately wished she hadn't.
"You all right there?" Jake said, grinning.
"Little bit green, actually," she said, standing up. "'Scuse me."
She made it to the ladies', let herself into a stall, and just stood there, one hand leaning heavily against the wall.
She wondered how her mother was doing tonight. Better than she was, probably. Jackie did like a drink now and then, but she was avoiding it right now. Breast-feeding, you know, not good for the baby. Rose shook her head. They actually had a baby.
* * * *
"What's it like?" Rose had asked her a while back. "Being with Pete, I mean. It's a bit weird, isn't it? Knowing it's not really him?"
"Not the Pete I knew, you mean?"
(Not my Dad, I meant, Rose thought, but she didn't say it out loud.)
"It is a bit strange, I suppose," Jackie said. "It is him, though. In every way that matters. His heart's the same. He loves me just the same. I know he's not really the same man, and I do still miss your father. But I love this Pete just as much." She looked searchingly at Rose. "I hope someday you will, too."
Rose nodded. She did care about him, and she was grateful for everything he'd done for her and her mum, but -- there was always going to be that first moment, when she'd first told him that he was her daughter. When he'd just cut her dead and walked away.
She was always going to see that moment when she looked at him. Part of her was always going to live in that moment. It was a kind of time travel.
* * * *
When Rose's head cleared, she wandered back out into the pub. Her d -- Pete was playing darts with some of the boys. Mickey and Jake were still sitting alone at the table, laughing, heads leaned in close together like they were sharing some private joke, hands stretched out --
"I'm back," Rose said uncertainly.
They jerked away from each other, like they'd just been shocked. They grinned uneasily up at her, glanced at each other, then back at her.
"Hey," Mickey said.
"Were you -- holding hands, just now?"
"Rose, listen -- " Mickey began.
"Oh, God," Rose said. The smile on her face was wide and sick. "Oh, God. I've been really stupid, haven't I? You must think I'm completely thick. Right in front of me all this time, and I never -- "
Pete had seen the look on her face, and come back to the table. "Rose, are you all right?" he asked.
She flashed him a brilliant smile. "Sure, Dad. Why wouldn't I be? I'm always all right." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "I'm just gonna go outside for a minute, yeah?"
She did, leaving an uncomfortable silence behind her.
* * * *
To her surprise, Jake was the one who finally came out after her.
She was leaning against the brick wall in the alleyway, arms wrapped around herself, shivering. It wasn't really even that cold out.
"Hey," Jake said.
Rose tried to smile and couldn't quite manage it. "Hi," she said.
"We wanted to tell you," he said quietly. "There was just never a good time."
"No. No, it's okay," Rose said, brushing the hair back out of her face. "I mean, I should have figured it out for myself. I just thought you two were just good friends. I wasn't paying any attention."
Jake nodded. He looked unsure what to say next.
"Do you want a cigarette?" he asked.
"I don't smoke."
"Oh. . . . Do you want to start?"
She laughed. He laughed with her.
"Sure, all right," Rose said. "Why the hell not."
He showed her how to breathe in while he held the flickering lighter flame out to the end of her cigarette. She coughed when it lit. "That's awful," she said, grinning. She kept going, though.
"So. You and Mickey. How long?" she asked.
Jake was quiet for a minute. "Rickey and I were together, you know."
"No, I didn't."
"Yeah. Well. It was hard losing him. Hard being around Mickey, with him looking, sounding, so much like him." He lit a cigarette for himself and took a long drag on it. "Right after you and the Doctor left here, the first time, we went off on our own, me and Mickey."
"Yeah? Where'd you go?"
He had the grace to look a little embarrassed. "Paris," he said.
She stared at him hard. "My Mickey took you to Paris?"
His grin widened and his blush deepened. "Yeah," he said.
Rose nodded slowly, considering. "Good for him," she said finally.
She looked down at the cigarette in her hand. "You know, I really don't want any more of this."
He laughed. "That's all right."
She flicked it away, watched it fly down the alley like a shooting star.
"You know one of the first things the Doctor ever said to me?" she asked.
"What?"
"He told me the earth was spinning under our feet. Thousands of miles an hour. And see, I knew that, but when he told me he could feel it, it was the first time I really believed it. But when he took me away -- when he took me up there -- " She pointed into the night sky -- "I guess I thought . . . the world would just stop spinning. Stay right where it was and wait for me to get back. I always thought if, somehow, things didn't work out for me and the Doctor, that Mickey would . . . Well, you know, the two of us -- Anyway. It doesn't matter now."
"Rose, he never wanted to hurt you, believe me -- "
"Oh, I know that. I know it. It's just -- this turned out to be a happy ending for everyone, you know? Everyone but me. Jackie has Pete back. Mickey has you. He's waiting for you right on the other side of that wall." She trailed her fingers over the brick. "The Doctor and me, we're on opposite sides of a wall now. No doors, no way over it. Just -- a wall."
"I'm sorry," Jake said.
She shook her head. "Don't even listen to me. I've had too much to drink. Just -- you just go through that door, all right? You go right in there and tell him -- do you love him?"
"I think I do, yeah."
"Then you tell him. You go in there right now and you tell him you love him and you tell him every day, all right? Because you can, because you get to. Don't you worry about me, not any of you. I'll be okay."
And she kissed him on the cheek and walked away.
"Where are you going?" he called out.
She stopped for a second.
Without turning around, she called back, "I'll find out when I get there, won't I?"
She started walking again. Jake watched her until she was out of sight.
* * * *
It was a dreary and rainy Saturday afternoon. Sarah Jane would rather have been out in her garden, but there was nothing for it but to sit inside with a pot of tea and catch up on her Jane Austen.
Her German shepherd started barking before she ever heard the doorbell.
She opened her door and was a little startled by the girl she found there. She was wet, bedraggled, and looked either like she'd been crying, or like she was about to cry. Or both.
She shooed her dog back into the house. "Yes?" Sarah said uneasily.
"Sarah Jane Smith, right?" the girl said. Her voice was barely louder than the rain.
"Yes?"
The girl opened her mouth to say something, then shut it again. Gathered her courage and then said, "You told me once -- well, you kind of told me -- that, if I ever left the Doctor, if I ever needed somewhere to go, I should come see you -- "
Sarah's questioning smile froze on her face. "I'm sorry," she said carefully. "I don't believe we've ever met."
"Well, it wasn't you, exactly," the girl said. "It was -- another you, in another -- another life, kind of, and -- I know I must not be making any sense to you, but I didn't know where else I could go -- "
Sarah Jane frowned slightly, reached out and gently touched the girl's face. Turned it slightly one way, then the other, looking closely at her eyes.
"I'm -- I'm not on drugs, if that's what you're thinking," Rose said. "I just -- listen, I'm sorry. This was a bad idea. I don't know what I was thinking. I'll just -- I'll go."
She started to turn away, and Sarah caught her shoulder. "Wait. Wait just a minute," she said. She looked around for a car and didn't see one. "Did you come a long way just to see me?"
The girl laughed. "Farther than you think," she said.
"Then -- you should at least come in and have a cup of tea," Sarah said.
"Yes. Thanks. Thanks so much."
They came inside. Sarah Jane's dog growled in annoyance. She led the girl into the kitchen, poured her the promised cup of tea.
"Thanks," the girl said again, curling her hands around the mug. She took a sip. "So -- you're a reporter, here, right? An investigative reporter?"
"That's right," she said.
"You help people tell their stories."
"Wait. I do know you."
The girl looked up hopefully. "You do?"
Sarah Jane nodded. "You're the Tyler heir, aren't you?"
The girl -- Rose, wasn't it? -- laughed and stared into her tea. "The Tyler heir. Great way to put it. I can be the next Paris Hilton."
Sarah frowned. "Who?"
She laughed again. "Maybe this world isn't so bad," she said. "Anyway, yeah. I'm Pete Tyler's daughter. But not the Pete Tyler you think."
"What do you -- wait. Hang on." Sarah went and rummaged on her desk for a minute. She came back with a digital voice recorder, turned it on, and placed it in front of the girl.
She looked at it warily. "Is this thing on? What do I say?"
"Just -- start at the beginning," Sarah said.
The girl nodded. She leaned forward a little.
"My name is Rose Tyler," she said. "This is the story of how I died."
* * * *
Days and days later, Rose was riding a double-decker bus, staring blankly out the window, eating listlessly out of a bag of chips. She was on her way home from work.
Well, not home, really. Not yet. She didn't have a home to go to. Once she'd gotten a couple of paychecks, she was going to start looking for an apartment.
For now, she was staying with Sarah Jane. She really had taken her in. She had a spare room -- well, not really a spare room meant for anyone to stay in, a spare room mostly filled with filing cabinets and boxes, but it had a couch Rose could sleep on for a while, until she was on her feet.
Her phone rang. She scrambled for it frantically, still hoping, the same way she did each time it rang, that the caller ID would somehow read "TARDIS calling". But it was Pete.
She almost didn't answer it. Then, on the last ring, she took a deep breath and hit "answer." "Hello?" she said.
"Hello, Rosie, how are you?" he said.
"You mean, where am I, don't you?"
"No. I'm not calling to try to get you to come home. I figure you'll come home when you're ready."
"I'm not coming home," she said. "This isn't home."
"Rosie. I just want to know how you're doing. We both do. Jacks has been frantic. Mind you, Jacks is good at being frantic."
Rose laughed despite herself. "Yeah," she said. "Yeah, she is."
"So are you okay?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I think I am."
"Your friend Sarah called me."
Rose held her breath a moment.
"She wanted me to corroborate your story," he said. "She doesn't know if she could get it published anywhere, mind you -- not as non-fiction -- but she was certainly curious."
"I bet." Rose smiled, and she couldn't tell what the emotion behind the smile was. "So what did you tell her? Did you tell her I was crazy?"
"No. I told her the truth."
Rose relaxed. "Thanks, Dad," she said.
"She sent me a copy of what she has so far. You have quite the life story, Rose Tyler."
"Yeah, well, I did have, anyway. Now I'm back to working in a shop again."
"Let me tell you something. You know what's true about stories?"
"What?"
"You can change them. If you don't like the way they turn out, you can always change them so they turn out differently. You've still got a life ahead of you, Rose. Don't give up on it yet."
"I won't," she said, no conviction behind it.
"And if there's anything you need from me -- "
"I'll call you. I promise."
"All right. Give me a call sometime soon anyway, Rose, whether you need anything or not. Just to let us know how you're doing, okay?"
"I will. I'll talk to you later, Dad."
"'Bye," he said, and then she hung up.
She'd almost missed her stop. But she got off the bus and started to walk down the now-familiar lane to Sarah's house.
She stopped. Stared up at a brick wall.
A huge graffiti tag covered it, almost too big to read, she'd almost walked right past it --
BAD WOLF.
She ran her hand over it.
She'd written these words. Not directly, not with cans of paint, but -- she'd scattered these words throughout time, even sideways through time into this world. She'd sent herself a message. And here it still was, still following her. First at Bad Wolf Bay and now here.
Maybe she was still trying to tell herself something.
Maybe she was trying to tell herself her story wasn't over yet.
* * * *
The next night and she'd worked a closing shift again. Despite the look on the Doctor's face when she'd joked that she was working at the shop again, here she was, doing exactly that. At the same store, no less.
Henrik's Department Store still stood in this world, still served its customers, still had jobs for people like Rose. At this point, it was all she really knew how to do. It was all right. It would do for now.
Besides, it was something comfortable and familiar. And as much as she hated herself for wanting that, she did.
Rose had walked down to the bus stop and realized that she had just missed a bus. She shrugged it off and started wandering back the way she'd come. She had a little money in her pocket and thought she'd treat herself to a late fish-and-chip supper. There was a little shop just past the department store, she could go there --
As she was passing Henrik's, she caught a motion out of the corner of her eye, through the window. There shouldn't be anyone still in there, she thought, and shielded her eyes with her hands and peered through the window into the dark.
Oh, that's just a mannequin, she thought, and was about to walk on.
She stopped abruptly. Wait. She looked again, staring hard. Had it moved position? Just slightly?
She looked around. The street was empty.
Are you sure about this? she thought. You could lose your job.
She was sure. She didn't have the Doctor's sonic screwdriver. If she was going to get in, she'd have to use something a little less subtle.
Metal trashcan. Heavy enough she could hardly shift it. Easily heavy enough to go right -- through -- the window --
The shattering glass sounded like the end of the world. A burglar alarm immediately started blaring from inside. She laughed.
The three mannequins nearest her turned toward the source of the sound. They looked startled. Could you startle plastic?
"Come on, then," she said, and it was hardly a whisper. "Come on. I faced the Sycorax by myself. I've beaten the Daleks. I'm not afraid of you."
Everything inside the store was in motion. All of the mannequins were coming slowly, jerkily, to life. Coming toward her.
She didn't have a plan. The Doctor never had a plan.
I can do this, she thought.
People had heard the noise. A crowd was gathering in the street, pointing, staring, amazed.
The nearest three mannequins had nearly reached her. She stood her ground. "I demand the right of parlay," she ventured, "under -- under Article Thirteen of the Shadow Proclamation."
They hesitated. Looked at each other.
But then their hands folded open, and their guns slid out.
It was worth a try, Rose thought, and she closed her eyes. This is better. Better to die like this than --
Someone stepped out of the crowd and grabbed her hand.
An urgent voice, a voice she never thought she'd hear again, said, "Run."
* * * *
Do you remember, Rose? Running everywhere? Running for our lives?
He'd said that to her once. Her Doctor. A world away.
This man had his face. He had that thick untamed hair and those deep brown eyes. It wasn't him. It couldn't be him.
They made it to the alley across the street. The TARDIS stood there, solid and resolute. He took the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket. "Cover your ears," he told her, and pointed it back toward the building. Pressed the button.
The top of the building exploded. Rose laughed and fell against the wall and watched it like it was fireworks.
"Rigged a detonator," he said, holding up the sonic screwdriver. "It's all right, there wasn't anyone in there. Well, no one who's not made out of plastic, anyway. At least, I'm pretty sure there wasn't. Was there anyone in there?" he asked urgently.
"No," she told him. She couldn't stop laughing. Couldn't catch her breath.
"Well, that's good, then. You all right?"
"Yeah," she said, grinning. "I'm fine."
She looked at him, shaking her head in disbelief. It was him and it wasn't him. He stared at her without a trace of recognition in his eyes. He looked like the Doctor had when she'd last seen him, but he was still wearing the black leather coat, the woolen jumper, the Doc Martens, he'd worn when they first met. They made him look like a little boy trying to be tough. Trying to make it on his own.
"I'm the Doctor, by the way. What's your name?"
"Rose. Rose Tyler."
"Nice to meet you, Rose." His smile faltered a little. "Would -- you mind telling me why you're looking at me like that?"
"You really don't know who I am, do you?" she said.
"Sorry -- should I?"
How had she never thought of this? There had been another Mickey here, another Pete, another Jackie -- surely, somewhere in all those stars overhead, there had to be another Doctor. What would good would a universe without the Doctor be?
She was still just staring at him, trying to catch her breath.
"Here," she said, "give me your hand."
"Umm -- " he said, looking back at the burning building. "I'm really not quite finished here -- "
"It's okay. There's still time. We can find their transmitter later."
He stared at her intensely, that look somewhere between a frown and a delighted smile that he always got whenever he found something particularly interesting. "Who are you?" he asked.
"Like I said -- give me your hand."
He did. She held it tight.
"Now. You can feel it, yeah? Under your feet. The turn of the earth. We're just riding around on top of it right now, you and me, and if you let go of me -- " She let go of his hand -- ”then you just fly right back off into space again. All by yourself." She looked into his eyes. "That's who I am."
He just stared back. And slowly, disbelievingly, he started to nod.
* * * *
Her Doctor was still out there somewhere, a world away. She still thought about him, every day. Still hoped she'd find a way to see him again.
"It is him, though. In every way that matters," Jackie had said. "His heart's the same. He loves me just the same."
* * * *
My name is Rose Tyler.
I was wrong. I have a thousand stories left to tell.
This is the story of how I lived.
_________
Cross-posted to dwfiction, new_who, sortofyeah, and time_and_chips
Author: icebluenothing
Rating: G
Spoilers: Set after Series Two; spoilers through Doomsday
Summary: Can Rose adjust to normal life when her life had been anything but normal?
________
So that was my story. The story of how a 900-year old alien had saved a London shop girl and taken her on the trip of a lifetime.
What they don't tell you is, when the stories are over, the days go on.
That was the story of how I died. This is what happened after.
* * * *
"Here you are, then," Mickey said from the doorway. "Your dad's been looking everywhere for you."
Rose shook her head. "He's not my dad," she said almost absently. She was just staring out the window, up here in one of the guest rooms. The house was new, smaller than what Pete was used to -- his idea of modest -- but it still had guest rooms.
"Rose, come on. You're not going to be like that, are you? Not today."
"Not today." She sighed and folded her arms over her chest. "No, I wouldn't want to ruin the baby shower, now, would I?"
Mickey smiled gently. "Don't tell me you're jealous of the baby."
Rose sat down heavily on the bed. "I know it's stupid," she said. "But seriously, how can I not be? It's been all she can talk about for weeks. Baby shoes, baby clothes, what color to paint the nursery -- "
He came and sat down next to her and took her hand.
"She's the only familiar thing to me here, the only thing besides you, and I feel like I'm losing her, Mickey! Once the baby comes, that's all she's gonna care about, and I'm gonna lose her, just like -- just like I lost -- "
"Rose, come on. Don't do this to yourself."
She looked out the window again, trying not to cry. She watched the dirigibles drifting serenely by and wished she were on one. Looking down at all of this from far away. I've seen everything, the whole world, from much farther away than that, she thought. But it'd be something.
"Does it ever get any easier?"
"Does what? Life, you mean?"
"Yeah, I guess. This place. This Earth. You've been here, what, three years now?"
"Something like that, yeah."
"I'm just not getting used to it. Each time I start to forget and think we're home, something just slaps me in the face and reminds me. Like buying something down at the shops and staring into my purse and not recognizing any of the money for a second. Or seeing 'People's Republic of England' on everything. I mean, the newspapers don't make any sense, do they? Do you ever get used to it?"
He nodded. "A little bit, yeah. I mean, the big changes stop mattering. People are still the same, at least."
"Yeah. People are the same everywhere." She wiped at her eyes. "Even when -- even when they're not really people, I mean, even if they're blue, or they look like trees, or whatever, they're still people. That was the first thing he taught me."
"The Doctor, you mean. You still miss him, don't you?"
She let go of his hand.
"Sorry," Mickey said. "Stupid question."
"I told him I loved him, Mickey," she said, so quietly he almost couldn't hear.
"I know," he said.
"He was gonna tell me he loved me. Right at the end there. I know he was." She wiped at her eyes again. She sounded so sure, but she looked at him, as if she wanted him to confirm it.
His eyes softened. "You mean you didn't already know that?" he said. "I guess you never saw him look at you the way I'd catch him doing. Rose, listen." He reached for her hand again. "I saw him save the world a dozen times. And sometimes I think he only did it because you were in it."
She shook her head. "He'd have been doing it even if he never met me."
"Sure. But I think it meant more to him like this."
She looked down at the hand that was reaching out to her and took it. Leaned against his shoulder.
"You're so different now," she said. "You used to be so jealous of him."
"Yeah, well, I've had three years to get over it," he said. "But I won't lie to you. When the breach closed? For a second, I was just -- so happy that you were here and safe and that he was never gonna take you away again." He shrugged. "I was mad that I was happy. If that makes sense. But, yeah."
"Yeah? You were?"
"Yeah," he said. He looked up at the clock on the wall. "Come on, we really should be getting downstairs, before Jackie completely loses it." He grinned. "You okay?"
I don't know if I'm ever going to be okay, she thought. "I'm okay," she told him, and she made herself smile, and she made herself get up, and she made herself go downstairs and join the party.
* * * *
Rose was dead to the world. The Doctor had told her that. Back in what, all these months later, she still thought of as the real world, she'd been declared missing, presumed dead. She wondered, sometimes, if there had been a funeral. She wondered if the Doctor had attended.
She wondered if he'd ever told anyone any different. If he would think to look up her old mate Shareen, or -- or anyone -- and tell them that Rose Tyler was alive and well. He probably hadn't.
She was alive here. Legally, even. Pete had friends in the People's Republic provisional government, and there was so much chaos in the wake of the Cybermen that records were easy to change around. She had a full set of identity cards, a passport, school records.
The story was simple. When baby Elizabeth was born, Pete held a press conference. A press conference. He introduced Elizabeth to the world, and he introduced them to Rose as well, and she made herself smile wide while blinking under the harsh glare of the photographer's lights. She was his and Jackie's daughter, born early in their marriage when money had been tight, and sent to live with better-off relatives in America, and who chose to stay there in later years to live a normal life, to live a life outside of the media circus. (Rose's teeth ground together hard at those words, normal life, but she kept smiling for the cameras.)
But now that the Cybermen crisis had passed, and the world needed rebuilding, it was more important to him than ever to have his whole family together again. To have both his daughters and his newly relocated wife together under his roof.
There was applause from the press corps. Rose's life was one huge bright lie now.
I can't do this, she thought, and determined right then that she needed to get out of the limelight. And as far into the shadows as possible.
* * * *
Rose sat in the chair in the Torchwood office and tried not to tap her foot or chew her nails.
The woman on the other side of the desk just sat and looked over Rose's C.V. -- itself mostly lies -- with her mouth drawn downward with tight, faintly disapproving lines around it. She said nothing.
Finally, without looking up, she said, "I assume you don't have a governmental security clearance level?"
"Umm. No, I don't." Rose thought a moment. "I could probably get one, though."
"And I note from your C.V. that you have no professional security, counterintel, or scientific experience?"
"Well, no, but -- "
The woman smiled tightly and handed the C.V. back to her. "I'm sorry, Ms. Tyler. But I don't think we can use you."
"But -- "
"Thank you for taking the time to come in today."
"Wait. Wait just a minute." Rose was holding tight to the arms of her chair. "What are you saying? I'm not good enough because I don't have enough experience? Are you kidding me?"
"Ms. Tyler -- "
"I've been off this planet. Have you? You need me here. You people are all about aliens -- well, I've met more aliens than you lot ever will."
"For example?"
"Daleks, right, you know that. Gelth. The Slitheen. The Sycorax."
"Never heard of them."
"Never heard of them? The Sycorax tried to invade back in -- "
"Ms. Tyler. No. They didn't." The woman leaned forward. "That's just what I'm trying to tell you. Your references tell me that you're from the parallel timeline we discovered. Now, that's interesting, of course -- we wouldn't mind studying you, actually -- but it means you're not useful to us."
"Why?"
"Because the aliens you encountered may have entirely different technologies, methodologies, and social structures in our timeline. Or they might not even exist here. So any information you had for us would be useless. No, worse than useless -- it could be actively misleading."
"Oh." Rose's shoulders sagged. "I hadn't thought of that."
The woman smiled unpleasantly. "No," she said. "You didn't."
"But -- ” Rose was staring down at the desk, focused on nothing in particular. "I have so much experience, just dealing with aliens, figuring them out -- "
"I'm sure you do." The woman behind the desk gestured to the guard at the door. "But you're going to leave that to the professionals from now on."
Silently, Rose let herself be led out. She took one last look around the compound, eyes taking in all the scavenged alien technology, everything that had fallen here from stars she was never going to touch again.
* * * *
"Well, to hell with them," Pete said. "They don't know what they're missing." He drained the last of another beer. "It's not like my little girl needs to work for a living, anyway."
"I need to do something with myself -- " she said. Her voice caught at the end of the sentence, unsure for the hundredth time whether to say "Pete" or "Dad."
"Cheers to that," Mickey said, raising his pint to her. "I'd be going nuts if I weren't working on the reconstruction crews with my boy Jake here." He clapped Jake on the shoulder.
Jake nodded, grinning. "We can always use another pair of hands, Rose," he said.
"Yeah, I can just see myself swinging a sledgehammer all day," she said. "No, ta."
One of the boys. That's what she was, tonight. Her mum was off with some of her new friends -- this world's Jackie's old friends, actually, who hadn't even noticed a difference -- and Rose had been asked down to the local for a little reunion. Some of the rebels who'd come over to her world and fought the Cybermen. They didn't look right to her out of commando gear, in normal clothes just sitting around having a drink like everyone else.
They were moving on. Getting back to normal life, whatever that meant her. She couldn't see any of them without thinking about that last stand, thinking about the Void opening up to swallow her, not being able to hold on to the world, to the Doctor --
She finished the last of her beer in one long swallow and immediately wished she hadn't.
"You all right there?" Jake said, grinning.
"Little bit green, actually," she said, standing up. "'Scuse me."
She made it to the ladies', let herself into a stall, and just stood there, one hand leaning heavily against the wall.
She wondered how her mother was doing tonight. Better than she was, probably. Jackie did like a drink now and then, but she was avoiding it right now. Breast-feeding, you know, not good for the baby. Rose shook her head. They actually had a baby.
* * * *
"What's it like?" Rose had asked her a while back. "Being with Pete, I mean. It's a bit weird, isn't it? Knowing it's not really him?"
"Not the Pete I knew, you mean?"
(Not my Dad, I meant, Rose thought, but she didn't say it out loud.)
"It is a bit strange, I suppose," Jackie said. "It is him, though. In every way that matters. His heart's the same. He loves me just the same. I know he's not really the same man, and I do still miss your father. But I love this Pete just as much." She looked searchingly at Rose. "I hope someday you will, too."
Rose nodded. She did care about him, and she was grateful for everything he'd done for her and her mum, but -- there was always going to be that first moment, when she'd first told him that he was her daughter. When he'd just cut her dead and walked away.
She was always going to see that moment when she looked at him. Part of her was always going to live in that moment. It was a kind of time travel.
* * * *
When Rose's head cleared, she wandered back out into the pub. Her d -- Pete was playing darts with some of the boys. Mickey and Jake were still sitting alone at the table, laughing, heads leaned in close together like they were sharing some private joke, hands stretched out --
"I'm back," Rose said uncertainly.
They jerked away from each other, like they'd just been shocked. They grinned uneasily up at her, glanced at each other, then back at her.
"Hey," Mickey said.
"Were you -- holding hands, just now?"
"Rose, listen -- " Mickey began.
"Oh, God," Rose said. The smile on her face was wide and sick. "Oh, God. I've been really stupid, haven't I? You must think I'm completely thick. Right in front of me all this time, and I never -- "
Pete had seen the look on her face, and come back to the table. "Rose, are you all right?" he asked.
She flashed him a brilliant smile. "Sure, Dad. Why wouldn't I be? I'm always all right." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "I'm just gonna go outside for a minute, yeah?"
She did, leaving an uncomfortable silence behind her.
* * * *
To her surprise, Jake was the one who finally came out after her.
She was leaning against the brick wall in the alleyway, arms wrapped around herself, shivering. It wasn't really even that cold out.
"Hey," Jake said.
Rose tried to smile and couldn't quite manage it. "Hi," she said.
"We wanted to tell you," he said quietly. "There was just never a good time."
"No. No, it's okay," Rose said, brushing the hair back out of her face. "I mean, I should have figured it out for myself. I just thought you two were just good friends. I wasn't paying any attention."
Jake nodded. He looked unsure what to say next.
"Do you want a cigarette?" he asked.
"I don't smoke."
"Oh. . . . Do you want to start?"
She laughed. He laughed with her.
"Sure, all right," Rose said. "Why the hell not."
He showed her how to breathe in while he held the flickering lighter flame out to the end of her cigarette. She coughed when it lit. "That's awful," she said, grinning. She kept going, though.
"So. You and Mickey. How long?" she asked.
Jake was quiet for a minute. "Rickey and I were together, you know."
"No, I didn't."
"Yeah. Well. It was hard losing him. Hard being around Mickey, with him looking, sounding, so much like him." He lit a cigarette for himself and took a long drag on it. "Right after you and the Doctor left here, the first time, we went off on our own, me and Mickey."
"Yeah? Where'd you go?"
He had the grace to look a little embarrassed. "Paris," he said.
She stared at him hard. "My Mickey took you to Paris?"
His grin widened and his blush deepened. "Yeah," he said.
Rose nodded slowly, considering. "Good for him," she said finally.
She looked down at the cigarette in her hand. "You know, I really don't want any more of this."
He laughed. "That's all right."
She flicked it away, watched it fly down the alley like a shooting star.
"You know one of the first things the Doctor ever said to me?" she asked.
"What?"
"He told me the earth was spinning under our feet. Thousands of miles an hour. And see, I knew that, but when he told me he could feel it, it was the first time I really believed it. But when he took me away -- when he took me up there -- " She pointed into the night sky -- "I guess I thought . . . the world would just stop spinning. Stay right where it was and wait for me to get back. I always thought if, somehow, things didn't work out for me and the Doctor, that Mickey would . . . Well, you know, the two of us -- Anyway. It doesn't matter now."
"Rose, he never wanted to hurt you, believe me -- "
"Oh, I know that. I know it. It's just -- this turned out to be a happy ending for everyone, you know? Everyone but me. Jackie has Pete back. Mickey has you. He's waiting for you right on the other side of that wall." She trailed her fingers over the brick. "The Doctor and me, we're on opposite sides of a wall now. No doors, no way over it. Just -- a wall."
"I'm sorry," Jake said.
She shook her head. "Don't even listen to me. I've had too much to drink. Just -- you just go through that door, all right? You go right in there and tell him -- do you love him?"
"I think I do, yeah."
"Then you tell him. You go in there right now and you tell him you love him and you tell him every day, all right? Because you can, because you get to. Don't you worry about me, not any of you. I'll be okay."
And she kissed him on the cheek and walked away.
"Where are you going?" he called out.
She stopped for a second.
Without turning around, she called back, "I'll find out when I get there, won't I?"
She started walking again. Jake watched her until she was out of sight.
* * * *
It was a dreary and rainy Saturday afternoon. Sarah Jane would rather have been out in her garden, but there was nothing for it but to sit inside with a pot of tea and catch up on her Jane Austen.
Her German shepherd started barking before she ever heard the doorbell.
She opened her door and was a little startled by the girl she found there. She was wet, bedraggled, and looked either like she'd been crying, or like she was about to cry. Or both.
She shooed her dog back into the house. "Yes?" Sarah said uneasily.
"Sarah Jane Smith, right?" the girl said. Her voice was barely louder than the rain.
"Yes?"
The girl opened her mouth to say something, then shut it again. Gathered her courage and then said, "You told me once -- well, you kind of told me -- that, if I ever left the Doctor, if I ever needed somewhere to go, I should come see you -- "
Sarah's questioning smile froze on her face. "I'm sorry," she said carefully. "I don't believe we've ever met."
"Well, it wasn't you, exactly," the girl said. "It was -- another you, in another -- another life, kind of, and -- I know I must not be making any sense to you, but I didn't know where else I could go -- "
Sarah Jane frowned slightly, reached out and gently touched the girl's face. Turned it slightly one way, then the other, looking closely at her eyes.
"I'm -- I'm not on drugs, if that's what you're thinking," Rose said. "I just -- listen, I'm sorry. This was a bad idea. I don't know what I was thinking. I'll just -- I'll go."
She started to turn away, and Sarah caught her shoulder. "Wait. Wait just a minute," she said. She looked around for a car and didn't see one. "Did you come a long way just to see me?"
The girl laughed. "Farther than you think," she said.
"Then -- you should at least come in and have a cup of tea," Sarah said.
"Yes. Thanks. Thanks so much."
They came inside. Sarah Jane's dog growled in annoyance. She led the girl into the kitchen, poured her the promised cup of tea.
"Thanks," the girl said again, curling her hands around the mug. She took a sip. "So -- you're a reporter, here, right? An investigative reporter?"
"That's right," she said.
"You help people tell their stories."
"Wait. I do know you."
The girl looked up hopefully. "You do?"
Sarah Jane nodded. "You're the Tyler heir, aren't you?"
The girl -- Rose, wasn't it? -- laughed and stared into her tea. "The Tyler heir. Great way to put it. I can be the next Paris Hilton."
Sarah frowned. "Who?"
She laughed again. "Maybe this world isn't so bad," she said. "Anyway, yeah. I'm Pete Tyler's daughter. But not the Pete Tyler you think."
"What do you -- wait. Hang on." Sarah went and rummaged on her desk for a minute. She came back with a digital voice recorder, turned it on, and placed it in front of the girl.
She looked at it warily. "Is this thing on? What do I say?"
"Just -- start at the beginning," Sarah said.
The girl nodded. She leaned forward a little.
"My name is Rose Tyler," she said. "This is the story of how I died."
* * * *
Days and days later, Rose was riding a double-decker bus, staring blankly out the window, eating listlessly out of a bag of chips. She was on her way home from work.
Well, not home, really. Not yet. She didn't have a home to go to. Once she'd gotten a couple of paychecks, she was going to start looking for an apartment.
For now, she was staying with Sarah Jane. She really had taken her in. She had a spare room -- well, not really a spare room meant for anyone to stay in, a spare room mostly filled with filing cabinets and boxes, but it had a couch Rose could sleep on for a while, until she was on her feet.
Her phone rang. She scrambled for it frantically, still hoping, the same way she did each time it rang, that the caller ID would somehow read "TARDIS calling". But it was Pete.
She almost didn't answer it. Then, on the last ring, she took a deep breath and hit "answer." "Hello?" she said.
"Hello, Rosie, how are you?" he said.
"You mean, where am I, don't you?"
"No. I'm not calling to try to get you to come home. I figure you'll come home when you're ready."
"I'm not coming home," she said. "This isn't home."
"Rosie. I just want to know how you're doing. We both do. Jacks has been frantic. Mind you, Jacks is good at being frantic."
Rose laughed despite herself. "Yeah," she said. "Yeah, she is."
"So are you okay?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I think I am."
"Your friend Sarah called me."
Rose held her breath a moment.
"She wanted me to corroborate your story," he said. "She doesn't know if she could get it published anywhere, mind you -- not as non-fiction -- but she was certainly curious."
"I bet." Rose smiled, and she couldn't tell what the emotion behind the smile was. "So what did you tell her? Did you tell her I was crazy?"
"No. I told her the truth."
Rose relaxed. "Thanks, Dad," she said.
"She sent me a copy of what she has so far. You have quite the life story, Rose Tyler."
"Yeah, well, I did have, anyway. Now I'm back to working in a shop again."
"Let me tell you something. You know what's true about stories?"
"What?"
"You can change them. If you don't like the way they turn out, you can always change them so they turn out differently. You've still got a life ahead of you, Rose. Don't give up on it yet."
"I won't," she said, no conviction behind it.
"And if there's anything you need from me -- "
"I'll call you. I promise."
"All right. Give me a call sometime soon anyway, Rose, whether you need anything or not. Just to let us know how you're doing, okay?"
"I will. I'll talk to you later, Dad."
"'Bye," he said, and then she hung up.
She'd almost missed her stop. But she got off the bus and started to walk down the now-familiar lane to Sarah's house.
She stopped. Stared up at a brick wall.
A huge graffiti tag covered it, almost too big to read, she'd almost walked right past it --
BAD WOLF.
She ran her hand over it.
She'd written these words. Not directly, not with cans of paint, but -- she'd scattered these words throughout time, even sideways through time into this world. She'd sent herself a message. And here it still was, still following her. First at Bad Wolf Bay and now here.
Maybe she was still trying to tell herself something.
Maybe she was trying to tell herself her story wasn't over yet.
* * * *
The next night and she'd worked a closing shift again. Despite the look on the Doctor's face when she'd joked that she was working at the shop again, here she was, doing exactly that. At the same store, no less.
Henrik's Department Store still stood in this world, still served its customers, still had jobs for people like Rose. At this point, it was all she really knew how to do. It was all right. It would do for now.
Besides, it was something comfortable and familiar. And as much as she hated herself for wanting that, she did.
Rose had walked down to the bus stop and realized that she had just missed a bus. She shrugged it off and started wandering back the way she'd come. She had a little money in her pocket and thought she'd treat herself to a late fish-and-chip supper. There was a little shop just past the department store, she could go there --
As she was passing Henrik's, she caught a motion out of the corner of her eye, through the window. There shouldn't be anyone still in there, she thought, and shielded her eyes with her hands and peered through the window into the dark.
Oh, that's just a mannequin, she thought, and was about to walk on.
She stopped abruptly. Wait. She looked again, staring hard. Had it moved position? Just slightly?
She looked around. The street was empty.
Are you sure about this? she thought. You could lose your job.
She was sure. She didn't have the Doctor's sonic screwdriver. If she was going to get in, she'd have to use something a little less subtle.
Metal trashcan. Heavy enough she could hardly shift it. Easily heavy enough to go right -- through -- the window --
The shattering glass sounded like the end of the world. A burglar alarm immediately started blaring from inside. She laughed.
The three mannequins nearest her turned toward the source of the sound. They looked startled. Could you startle plastic?
"Come on, then," she said, and it was hardly a whisper. "Come on. I faced the Sycorax by myself. I've beaten the Daleks. I'm not afraid of you."
Everything inside the store was in motion. All of the mannequins were coming slowly, jerkily, to life. Coming toward her.
She didn't have a plan. The Doctor never had a plan.
I can do this, she thought.
People had heard the noise. A crowd was gathering in the street, pointing, staring, amazed.
The nearest three mannequins had nearly reached her. She stood her ground. "I demand the right of parlay," she ventured, "under -- under Article Thirteen of the Shadow Proclamation."
They hesitated. Looked at each other.
But then their hands folded open, and their guns slid out.
It was worth a try, Rose thought, and she closed her eyes. This is better. Better to die like this than --
Someone stepped out of the crowd and grabbed her hand.
An urgent voice, a voice she never thought she'd hear again, said, "Run."
* * * *
Do you remember, Rose? Running everywhere? Running for our lives?
He'd said that to her once. Her Doctor. A world away.
This man had his face. He had that thick untamed hair and those deep brown eyes. It wasn't him. It couldn't be him.
They made it to the alley across the street. The TARDIS stood there, solid and resolute. He took the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket. "Cover your ears," he told her, and pointed it back toward the building. Pressed the button.
The top of the building exploded. Rose laughed and fell against the wall and watched it like it was fireworks.
"Rigged a detonator," he said, holding up the sonic screwdriver. "It's all right, there wasn't anyone in there. Well, no one who's not made out of plastic, anyway. At least, I'm pretty sure there wasn't. Was there anyone in there?" he asked urgently.
"No," she told him. She couldn't stop laughing. Couldn't catch her breath.
"Well, that's good, then. You all right?"
"Yeah," she said, grinning. "I'm fine."
She looked at him, shaking her head in disbelief. It was him and it wasn't him. He stared at her without a trace of recognition in his eyes. He looked like the Doctor had when she'd last seen him, but he was still wearing the black leather coat, the woolen jumper, the Doc Martens, he'd worn when they first met. They made him look like a little boy trying to be tough. Trying to make it on his own.
"I'm the Doctor, by the way. What's your name?"
"Rose. Rose Tyler."
"Nice to meet you, Rose." His smile faltered a little. "Would -- you mind telling me why you're looking at me like that?"
"You really don't know who I am, do you?" she said.
"Sorry -- should I?"
How had she never thought of this? There had been another Mickey here, another Pete, another Jackie -- surely, somewhere in all those stars overhead, there had to be another Doctor. What would good would a universe without the Doctor be?
She was still just staring at him, trying to catch her breath.
"Here," she said, "give me your hand."
"Umm -- " he said, looking back at the burning building. "I'm really not quite finished here -- "
"It's okay. There's still time. We can find their transmitter later."
He stared at her intensely, that look somewhere between a frown and a delighted smile that he always got whenever he found something particularly interesting. "Who are you?" he asked.
"Like I said -- give me your hand."
He did. She held it tight.
"Now. You can feel it, yeah? Under your feet. The turn of the earth. We're just riding around on top of it right now, you and me, and if you let go of me -- " She let go of his hand -- ”then you just fly right back off into space again. All by yourself." She looked into his eyes. "That's who I am."
He just stared back. And slowly, disbelievingly, he started to nod.
* * * *
Her Doctor was still out there somewhere, a world away. She still thought about him, every day. Still hoped she'd find a way to see him again.
"It is him, though. In every way that matters," Jackie had said. "His heart's the same. He loves me just the same."
* * * *
My name is Rose Tyler.
I was wrong. I have a thousand stories left to tell.
This is the story of how I lived.
_________
Cross-posted to dwfiction, new_who, sortofyeah, and time_and_chips