amberfocus | Pain (1/3) (Reply)

Pain

A/N: Next in the Moments in Darkness series, follows Frustration. Nine/Rose. Angst. Not sure how many chapter this will be. Maybe two, maybe three. Set immediately following Father's Day. Recognizable dialog is from that episode.

“No. I get it. For once you’re not the most important man in my life.” The words replay bitterly over and over again in Rose’s mind as she dips her head beneath the warm water of the shower. She can’t believe she said that to him. Can’t believe she even thought it. Thing was, even with meeting her father and saving his life, it didn’t mean the Doctor wasn’t the most important man in her life, because he still is. She has just been so frustrated at him that he couldn’t understand why she’d risked a paradox to save her dad. But it didn’t mean, it couldn’t mean he wasn’t the most important man.

He’d lashed back at her in anger and his words, too, echoed through her mind. “Let’s see how you get on without me, then. Give me the key. The TARDIS key. If I’m so insignificant, give it me back.” He hadn’t really wanted it, she could see that in his face, but she’d been so hurt by his words, especially after he’d told her what giving her the key in the first place had meant to him. It was like asking for it back erased everything he’d said about the TARDIS being her home, about him wanting her with him. Erased everything he had almost admitted to feeling about her.

She reached for the shampoo bottle and squirted some into her hand then rubbed it punishingly into her scalp, trying not to cry. Why was it she spent so much of her time since meeting the Doctor crying or trying not to cry behind closed doors? She had never been so emotional with Mickey, never felt this topsy-turvy rollercoaster ride in the pit of her stomach day in and day out around him. “All right then, I will.” And she had done, handing it over to him, her eyes begging him to stop her but he wasn’t looking at her eyes, only at her hands as they returned the symbol of their burgeoning relationship back to him.

“Well, you got what you wanted, so that’s good-bye then.” Yes, she’d wanted her father alive, but she hadn’t come back in time to accomplish that despite what he’d accused her of. She knew, knew he had to be thinking that, but it wasn’t true. And how could he think she really wanted to give him that key back? She never would have if he hadn’t demanded it. She had been determined never to let it leave her body again except to open the door of the ship, not after her mistake with Adam. Didn’t he know that? Couldn’t he see? Apparently he couldn’t, because he had still walked out that door, walked away from her. Left her. And all the time she’d been thinking he’d turn back. He wasn’t really going to leave her. In the past? No way back to her own time? She couldn’t even think "leave me with no way home," because the TARDIS was home. Surely, he wouldn’t go?

“You’re not fooling me. I know how sad you are,” she’d yelled after him. “You’ll be back in a minute.” Please, please, you have to be, you have to! “Or you’ll hang around outside the TARDIS waiting for me. And I’ll make you wait a long time!” Turn back, please turn back, look at me. But he hadn’t.

She rinsed the shampoo from her hair, and started in again with a second dose trying to silence her thoughts. He’d walked away, he’d kept on walking, he hadn’t looked back at her. He’d left her, really left her and she knew, knew that if it hadn’t been for the Reapers she never would have seen him again.

Later in the church he’d made his opinion clear, that he thought she was stupid, just another stupid ape. She hated it that he used that expression at all, but when he’d turned it on her it had killed something inside her. That thing that made her think she is special to him, not just any other person he could have scooped up from her planet to take travelling. No, she isn’t different, she isn’t special, she is just anyone. Just…anyone. She is certainly not his.

A second rinse did nothing to clear her mind, simply washed away the bubbles. She reaches for the conditioner, drops the bottle on the tub floor, grabs it back up again. Not his. The sob bubbles up but she chokes it back down. Not his, she manages again a little more calmly.

He’d apologized but his words had echoed hollowly in the church, meant, she was sure, to get her to cooperate with him as he made his plans to save their lives and not because he meant them. “All right. I’m sorry. I wasn’t really going to leave you on your own.”

“I know,” she’d said quickly, too quickly. She hadn’t known and she still didn’t believe him. “If I’d realized…”

“Just tell me you’re sorry.”

“I am. I’m sorry.” She put everything she had into that apology, all of her remorse and love for him into her eyes. She wanted him to know, to believe her more than anything she’d ever wanted in her life. For a moment she thought he did. He cupped the side of her face and she leaned into his touch, her heart begging him to see the truth, see how very sorry she was, that she knew she’d botched things up but she’d only done it out of love for her father, she’d never meant it to hurt anyone. She’d never want to hurt anyone. He’d given her that smile and hugged her and his arms had been so tight around her and she thought maybe when it was all over they’d be okay. Maybe.

But that was before he died, before her actions killed him. She’s seen Pete lift the baby, but hadn’t moved away fast enough, she’d reflexively grasped her infant self and the Reaper had materialized inside the church. The Doctor, hero to the last breath had defended them. And he’d died; a horrible and painful death, vicious and violent, torn apart, eaten by that monster and erased from existence. When the Reaper had knocked the key, her key, free from the TARDIS and ended all hope, it had fallen to the floor and she’d raced for it. It had lain like ice on her palm and she knew everything was lost forever. Not just what she had sought to save, but the Doctor and everything else.

She’d looked at her father and he’d tried to comfort her as the world outside grew dim and the church darkened. She could not be comforted. “This is all my fault. Both of you. All of you. The whole world.” And then her father, her brave, wonderful father had made the ultimate sacrifice, erasing all the damage she had caused by saving his life. She’d gone to him, held his hand as he died, the only thing she ever should have done in the first place. And the Doctor was there, he was back as history repaired itself and the timeline reasserted its rightful place.

Her daddy is dead and her Doctor is alive and everything is as it should be. Only it isn’t. She pounds her fist hard into the shower wall. Because even though he’d held her hand and walked her back to the TARDIS, it was only in comfort for the loss of her father. He had sent her off, mumbling about TARDIS maintenance, and she knew that their relationship had been irretrievably broken today, that he hasn’t been able to forgive her at all. He hadn’t even been able to meet her eyes.

Tired of fighting them she lets the tears come, lets the heartrending sobs free at last. She has lost so much today. The innocence lost from knowing what her father was really like, a hero in the end, but not the larger than life man her mother had always said he was. The loss of the Doctor in her life as she’d watched him die. Maybe even the loss of him for good now he is alive and well when he turns his back on her as she is sure he will. She killed him. Couldn’t get more jeopardy friendly than that. There is no way he’d want to keep her around now. It’s not something a man can forgive.

She finally calms herself and leaves the shower, drying off and slipping into clean pajamas. She enters her room and looks around at the detritus of her life, the life she’s managed to make for herself in her travels with the Doctor. So many little souvenirs, her clothes and makeup, her reminders of her family and friends scattered about. Slowly she begins to clean everything up until it’s as neat and tidy as the rest of the ship. It’ll make it easier she knows, when the Doctor asks her to pack her bags and delivers her back to her mother for good. Because if he still wanted her to stay, if he’d truly forgiven her and accepted her apology, he would have given back her key, the key that had disappeared back into his pocket when he reappeared. But he didn’t. And all she can think is that he doesn’t want her anymore. After all, he only takes the best and she's just proven that isn't her.

Ch. 2: http://amberfocus.livejournal.com/41420.html