Nine/Rose fic - Change and Constant
For: aspiringfiction and dynastessa
Title: Change and Constant
Pairing/Characters: 9/Rose, 10/Rose, Jackie
Rating: PG
Spoiler warnings: Series 1 and the Christmas Invasion
Notes: Despite how the Doctor may change physically, his feelings for Rose remain constant. Just a short character study from Jackie's POV, written in about an hour.
Beta: Thanks to shallowesque and dynastessa!
***
Guilt threatens to overwhelm her.
This isn't what she wanted.
***
Rose comes running through the door, her hair in tangles that make it look as though she hasn't brushed it in days - for all Jackie knows, she hasn't - and grinning ear to ear. She launches herself at her mum, throwing her arms around her and nearly knocking Jackie breathless. There's a jumbled story of an adventure on some daft alien world before the Doctor joins her, looking sullen.
Jackie can tell he doesn't want to be there. Well, they have that in common; she doesn't exactly want him there either.
Pleasantries, if you could call them that, are exchanged before Rose is distracted by the arrival of Mickey and runs outside to talk to him, leaving Jackie and the Doctor alone in the kitchen.
An awkward silence forms. It stretches.
"Do you want some tea?" she asks finally, desperate to break the silence.
"Yes, thanks. Black with sugar."
As she busies herself making tea, she tries to ignore him pacing 'round her kitchen like a caged lion.
"So how long're you letting her stay for this time?" she asks when she turns back to face him, placing two tea cups on the table.
"Letting her stay," he repeats, his tone incredulous, "I let her come home any damn time she asks; she's my companion - not my prisoner."
She makes a face. "Companion," she snaps, "like that makes it any better."
She can see him gritting his teeth; he probably thinks he's being civil. Well, she’s going to show him the error of his bloody ways, she is.
"Traveling companion Jackie. We're mates."
"Mates?" she snarls back at him. "Really. You expect me to believe that? When I see the way you look at her."
He glares at her, his eyes narrowing into slits. "...and how do I look at her, pray tell?"
"Like a dirty old man! Look, I may not know about ... ruddy aliens, or space travel or anything like that but I know men. And you are definitely a man - or shaped enough like one that it matters."
"I do not have to listen to this," he says, stalking toward the door of the kitchen.
"You're too old for her." The words are out of her mouth before she can stop them.
He freezes mid-step, his back still to her-but she can see that his spine has gone rigid.
"Too old," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. She feels she ought to be reassured that he's not shouting at her, but oddly, this quiet tone - this cold, quiet tone - scares her.
Instinctively, she takes a step backward.
"Too old," he says again; only now, the words come out sounding slightly strangled.
When he whirls around to face her, his expression is utterly unlike any she's ever seen on his face before. There's anger there, deep, deep anger, and loss - if there's one expression that Jackie Tyler can recognize instantly, it's loss - and an almost manic amusement, as though he can't believe the words that have come out of her mouth.
Part of her wishes she could desperately reverse time like Rose claims the Doctor can, and rewind several seconds to un-say those words. But since she can't, she steels herself and stands by them.
"Yes. You're too old. She's young and impressionable and you're..."
"...what, Jackie? Go on, say it. What? Taking advantage?" She can see rage in his face now. "You're absolutely right, Jackie - I am too old for her. I look old enough to be her father. You think I haven't seen people staring at us when we're on your backwards little rock here? Looks of disgust, usually, or occasionally envy. They think she's my trophy wife, that I'm her sugar daddy-" he makes a disgusted face of his own as he spits out the words- "I'm sure some sick bastards out there think I am her father. I look old enough to be her father, but I'm far, far older than that Jackie. I'm older than you-"
She takes another step back.
"I'm older than your father, his father before him and his father before that. Generations upon generations of people to whom you could claim ancestry... and I'm older than all of them."
"So why..."
"Why, what? Why Rose?" he cuts her off. "Because your daughter is clever, Jackie. She's resourceful, she thinks up creative ways out of otherwise hopeless situations. She doesn't get overly dramatic when things go wrong, she laughs even when there's not all that much to laugh about, she's funny, she's optimistic, she's athletic enough to keep up with me - and I've run more than my share of marathons - and above all Jackie, she has saved the universe and me with it on more than one occasion. That's why."
"So you're saying you're not interested?" she demands.
"What do you want - do you want me to lie?" He slams his fist down on the table, rattling the tea cups.
Jackie says nothing. She has her answer.
The kitchen falls silent.
Jackie sighs, "Look, the tea is getting cold..."
The Doctor looks at her, and after a tense moment he takes her change of topic for what it is: a peace offering - or at the very least a temporary truce. Jackie relaxes somewhat when he sits at the table and takes the offered cuppa.
"Would you be happier if I looked younger?" he continues softly, all the bitterness gone just like that. His voice has become almost childlike, exhausted. "If I at least physically appeared as though we were more of a peer age than we are?"
She opens her mouth to retort how utterly unlikely that is - how daft does he think she is, honestly, talking about changing his body like she'd change into a pair of jeans - but something in his expression as he looks at her makes her stop. It leaves her dumbfounded, actually.
"...can you do that?" she asks.
"Yes," he says, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"How?" she demands, dropping into a seat across from him.
"I'd die," he says simply, looking her straight in the eyes. "Every single cell in this body as you see it here and now at your kitchen table would die and I'd... change."
She swallows. She wants to call him a liar. Wants to tear her eyes away from his - blue and ancient - but she doesn't. She can't. Calling him a liar doesn't make what he's saying any less true, much as she might want not to believe it.
"Into what?" she asks, her own voice now barely above a whisper.
He sighs. "I don't know - not for sure. I never know until it happens. But I can try for a younger body."
She breaks eye contact; she has to. She can't take much more of this.
Finally she asks, "...you'd do that? For Rose?"
He touches her hand across the table and when she looks up at him again, he nods once. "Yes."
***
Rose is clinging to her, sobbing in a way Jackie has never seen her sob before. It's in a way that Jackie remembers sobbing herself, alone in her bedroom - so recently their bedroom - the morning of Pete's funeral.
Loss.
The loss of someone you love more than you love yourself and the realization that you're alone.
"He left me mum," Rose gasps out, tears pouring down her cheeks. "He left me."
And all Jackie can do is hold her daughter close to her and stroke her hair.
Guilt threatens to overwhelm her. This isn't what she wanted.
***
The Doctor sits across the table from her, wearing a red paper hat. His face is younger now - he's still not quite the same age as Rose, she thinks with guilt, but definitely younger. He's rake thin now in his brown pinstripe suit, his face narrower, his ears smaller, his eyes brown instead of blue. His hair is a different colour - longer - and, with the knowledge that comes from years of cutting hair, she can tell it has a different consistency to it too. His eyes stay locked on Rose most of the time, occasionally flicking from her to Mickey - funny how he seems well, kinder, less antagonistic toward Mickey this time 'round - but mostly they stay firmly fixed on her daughter.
He eats the turkey and the fixings, tucking in with a gusto she'd never have expected of him having heard him express his distaste for her cooking... was it only weeks ago? It's so hard to keep track of their comings and goings. He chatters away between mouthfuls of food and Rose can't seem to take her eyes off of him either.
From time to time Jackie sees one of them smile at the other and all of a sudden it's as though they're the only two people in the room.
He may have a new body, but it's clear to Jackie that he still loves her daughter.
***
After they've come in from the ... well, not snow apparently, Mickey pleads exhaustion and announces he's going home to get some sleep. He shakes hands with the Doctor, kisses Rose once on the lips and stops to give Jackie a long, tight hug on his way out the door. They lock eyes and Mickey smiles - a sort of wry, half smile - and then wishes them all a happy Christmas and leaves.
Leaves her alone with her daughter and the (new) Doctor.
"So... what're your plans?" she asks Rose, hesitantly. She's already dreading the answer.
Rose looks from her to the Doctor and back again, obviously unsure of how to answer.
"I have some repairs to make on the TARDIS. She made quite the hard landing today ...well, yesterday really," the (new) Doctor cuts in smoothly. "Best get started on those right away. As for you," he turns to Rose, "you look knackered. How about a night home in bed? Extended visit with your mum, assuming Jackie doesn't mind?"
There are so many layers to his question she can't even count them. Instead, Jackie nods. "Of course. you're both welcome to stay as long as you like."
Rose looks at the Doctor, her expression puzzled. Clearly this is not the answer she was expecting. "You sure?"
The (new) Doctor grins. "Absolutely! I've had more than enough sleep in the last few hours, thanks - I generally don't need that much sleep - but you can rest up and I'll get to work."
The shift in Rose's expression is immediate - going from confused to frightened and Jackie realizes she's worried that, despite his recent insistence that he wants her to come along, he's going to leave her behind.
Jackie, for once, knows better.
The Doctor must see it too, as his expression softens and he smiles. "I promise you, Rose Tyler, I'm not going anywhere - not even 'round the corner for a container of milk - while you're asleep."
Rose looks sheepish but relieved, and Jackie feels herself let out a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding.
"All right!" Rose says, grinning at him. He grins back, wide and showing new teeth - that's weird, thinks Jackie - before leaning over and giving her a hug. Rose turns pink, then gives Jackie a kiss before mumbling something about brushing her teeth before disappearing down the hallway.
Alone with the (new) Doctor - she just can't stop calling him that - she feels ashamed. She wonders if he blames her for the change.
"Well, Jackie," he asks softly, a new voice to go with a new face, "is this better?" His words are without malice - he sounds genuinely curious. Curious and a bit uncertain.
"I... Doctor, you have to know this isn't what I wanted. Not ever."
He smiles and touches her shoulder. "I know. And I didn’t do it for you... I did it for me. I was dying anyway, Jackie. I did it for me and ...I did it for her."
"I'm ...sorry." The words themselves aren't enough, but she has to try.
He understands; she can see it his face. "I'm sorry too, to be taking her away again."
Jackie sighs. "It's what she wants. You're what she wants. Just... please bring her home to me."
His words are a promise. "I will always bring her home."
And she believes him.
Title: Change and Constant
Pairing/Characters: 9/Rose, 10/Rose, Jackie
Rating: PG
Spoiler warnings: Series 1 and the Christmas Invasion
Notes: Despite how the Doctor may change physically, his feelings for Rose remain constant. Just a short character study from Jackie's POV, written in about an hour.
Beta: Thanks to shallowesque and dynastessa!
***
Guilt threatens to overwhelm her.
This isn't what she wanted.
***
Rose comes running through the door, her hair in tangles that make it look as though she hasn't brushed it in days - for all Jackie knows, she hasn't - and grinning ear to ear. She launches herself at her mum, throwing her arms around her and nearly knocking Jackie breathless. There's a jumbled story of an adventure on some daft alien world before the Doctor joins her, looking sullen.
Jackie can tell he doesn't want to be there. Well, they have that in common; she doesn't exactly want him there either.
Pleasantries, if you could call them that, are exchanged before Rose is distracted by the arrival of Mickey and runs outside to talk to him, leaving Jackie and the Doctor alone in the kitchen.
An awkward silence forms. It stretches.
"Do you want some tea?" she asks finally, desperate to break the silence.
"Yes, thanks. Black with sugar."
As she busies herself making tea, she tries to ignore him pacing 'round her kitchen like a caged lion.
"So how long're you letting her stay for this time?" she asks when she turns back to face him, placing two tea cups on the table.
"Letting her stay," he repeats, his tone incredulous, "I let her come home any damn time she asks; she's my companion - not my prisoner."
She makes a face. "Companion," she snaps, "like that makes it any better."
She can see him gritting his teeth; he probably thinks he's being civil. Well, she’s going to show him the error of his bloody ways, she is.
"Traveling companion Jackie. We're mates."
"Mates?" she snarls back at him. "Really. You expect me to believe that? When I see the way you look at her."
He glares at her, his eyes narrowing into slits. "...and how do I look at her, pray tell?"
"Like a dirty old man! Look, I may not know about ... ruddy aliens, or space travel or anything like that but I know men. And you are definitely a man - or shaped enough like one that it matters."
"I do not have to listen to this," he says, stalking toward the door of the kitchen.
"You're too old for her." The words are out of her mouth before she can stop them.
He freezes mid-step, his back still to her-but she can see that his spine has gone rigid.
"Too old," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. She feels she ought to be reassured that he's not shouting at her, but oddly, this quiet tone - this cold, quiet tone - scares her.
Instinctively, she takes a step backward.
"Too old," he says again; only now, the words come out sounding slightly strangled.
When he whirls around to face her, his expression is utterly unlike any she's ever seen on his face before. There's anger there, deep, deep anger, and loss - if there's one expression that Jackie Tyler can recognize instantly, it's loss - and an almost manic amusement, as though he can't believe the words that have come out of her mouth.
Part of her wishes she could desperately reverse time like Rose claims the Doctor can, and rewind several seconds to un-say those words. But since she can't, she steels herself and stands by them.
"Yes. You're too old. She's young and impressionable and you're..."
"...what, Jackie? Go on, say it. What? Taking advantage?" She can see rage in his face now. "You're absolutely right, Jackie - I am too old for her. I look old enough to be her father. You think I haven't seen people staring at us when we're on your backwards little rock here? Looks of disgust, usually, or occasionally envy. They think she's my trophy wife, that I'm her sugar daddy-" he makes a disgusted face of his own as he spits out the words- "I'm sure some sick bastards out there think I am her father. I look old enough to be her father, but I'm far, far older than that Jackie. I'm older than you-"
She takes another step back.
"I'm older than your father, his father before him and his father before that. Generations upon generations of people to whom you could claim ancestry... and I'm older than all of them."
"So why..."
"Why, what? Why Rose?" he cuts her off. "Because your daughter is clever, Jackie. She's resourceful, she thinks up creative ways out of otherwise hopeless situations. She doesn't get overly dramatic when things go wrong, she laughs even when there's not all that much to laugh about, she's funny, she's optimistic, she's athletic enough to keep up with me - and I've run more than my share of marathons - and above all Jackie, she has saved the universe and me with it on more than one occasion. That's why."
"So you're saying you're not interested?" she demands.
"What do you want - do you want me to lie?" He slams his fist down on the table, rattling the tea cups.
Jackie says nothing. She has her answer.
The kitchen falls silent.
Jackie sighs, "Look, the tea is getting cold..."
The Doctor looks at her, and after a tense moment he takes her change of topic for what it is: a peace offering - or at the very least a temporary truce. Jackie relaxes somewhat when he sits at the table and takes the offered cuppa.
"Would you be happier if I looked younger?" he continues softly, all the bitterness gone just like that. His voice has become almost childlike, exhausted. "If I at least physically appeared as though we were more of a peer age than we are?"
She opens her mouth to retort how utterly unlikely that is - how daft does he think she is, honestly, talking about changing his body like she'd change into a pair of jeans - but something in his expression as he looks at her makes her stop. It leaves her dumbfounded, actually.
"...can you do that?" she asks.
"Yes," he says, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"How?" she demands, dropping into a seat across from him.
"I'd die," he says simply, looking her straight in the eyes. "Every single cell in this body as you see it here and now at your kitchen table would die and I'd... change."
She swallows. She wants to call him a liar. Wants to tear her eyes away from his - blue and ancient - but she doesn't. She can't. Calling him a liar doesn't make what he's saying any less true, much as she might want not to believe it.
"Into what?" she asks, her own voice now barely above a whisper.
He sighs. "I don't know - not for sure. I never know until it happens. But I can try for a younger body."
She breaks eye contact; she has to. She can't take much more of this.
Finally she asks, "...you'd do that? For Rose?"
He touches her hand across the table and when she looks up at him again, he nods once. "Yes."
***
Rose is clinging to her, sobbing in a way Jackie has never seen her sob before. It's in a way that Jackie remembers sobbing herself, alone in her bedroom - so recently their bedroom - the morning of Pete's funeral.
Loss.
The loss of someone you love more than you love yourself and the realization that you're alone.
"He left me mum," Rose gasps out, tears pouring down her cheeks. "He left me."
And all Jackie can do is hold her daughter close to her and stroke her hair.
Guilt threatens to overwhelm her. This isn't what she wanted.
***
The Doctor sits across the table from her, wearing a red paper hat. His face is younger now - he's still not quite the same age as Rose, she thinks with guilt, but definitely younger. He's rake thin now in his brown pinstripe suit, his face narrower, his ears smaller, his eyes brown instead of blue. His hair is a different colour - longer - and, with the knowledge that comes from years of cutting hair, she can tell it has a different consistency to it too. His eyes stay locked on Rose most of the time, occasionally flicking from her to Mickey - funny how he seems well, kinder, less antagonistic toward Mickey this time 'round - but mostly they stay firmly fixed on her daughter.
He eats the turkey and the fixings, tucking in with a gusto she'd never have expected of him having heard him express his distaste for her cooking... was it only weeks ago? It's so hard to keep track of their comings and goings. He chatters away between mouthfuls of food and Rose can't seem to take her eyes off of him either.
From time to time Jackie sees one of them smile at the other and all of a sudden it's as though they're the only two people in the room.
He may have a new body, but it's clear to Jackie that he still loves her daughter.
***
After they've come in from the ... well, not snow apparently, Mickey pleads exhaustion and announces he's going home to get some sleep. He shakes hands with the Doctor, kisses Rose once on the lips and stops to give Jackie a long, tight hug on his way out the door. They lock eyes and Mickey smiles - a sort of wry, half smile - and then wishes them all a happy Christmas and leaves.
Leaves her alone with her daughter and the (new) Doctor.
"So... what're your plans?" she asks Rose, hesitantly. She's already dreading the answer.
Rose looks from her to the Doctor and back again, obviously unsure of how to answer.
"I have some repairs to make on the TARDIS. She made quite the hard landing today ...well, yesterday really," the (new) Doctor cuts in smoothly. "Best get started on those right away. As for you," he turns to Rose, "you look knackered. How about a night home in bed? Extended visit with your mum, assuming Jackie doesn't mind?"
There are so many layers to his question she can't even count them. Instead, Jackie nods. "Of course. you're both welcome to stay as long as you like."
Rose looks at the Doctor, her expression puzzled. Clearly this is not the answer she was expecting. "You sure?"
The (new) Doctor grins. "Absolutely! I've had more than enough sleep in the last few hours, thanks - I generally don't need that much sleep - but you can rest up and I'll get to work."
The shift in Rose's expression is immediate - going from confused to frightened and Jackie realizes she's worried that, despite his recent insistence that he wants her to come along, he's going to leave her behind.
Jackie, for once, knows better.
The Doctor must see it too, as his expression softens and he smiles. "I promise you, Rose Tyler, I'm not going anywhere - not even 'round the corner for a container of milk - while you're asleep."
Rose looks sheepish but relieved, and Jackie feels herself let out a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding.
"All right!" Rose says, grinning at him. He grins back, wide and showing new teeth - that's weird, thinks Jackie - before leaning over and giving her a hug. Rose turns pink, then gives Jackie a kiss before mumbling something about brushing her teeth before disappearing down the hallway.
Alone with the (new) Doctor - she just can't stop calling him that - she feels ashamed. She wonders if he blames her for the change.
"Well, Jackie," he asks softly, a new voice to go with a new face, "is this better?" His words are without malice - he sounds genuinely curious. Curious and a bit uncertain.
"I... Doctor, you have to know this isn't what I wanted. Not ever."
He smiles and touches her shoulder. "I know. And I didn’t do it for you... I did it for me. I was dying anyway, Jackie. I did it for me and ...I did it for her."
"I'm ...sorry." The words themselves aren't enough, but she has to try.
He understands; she can see it his face. "I'm sorry too, to be taking her away again."
Jackie sighs. "It's what she wants. You're what she wants. Just... please bring her home to me."
His words are a promise. "I will always bring her home."
And she believes him.