livii
in
rose_lives
Fic: Stray Birds of Summer (Martha, Rose, the TARDIS, PG-13)
Title: Stray Birds of Summer
Author: livii
Characters: Martha, Rose, the TARDIS; other companions mentioned
Rating: PG-13
Summary: “The Doctor, despite how he shows off, can’t do quite everything, you know.” The TARDIS is hiding some secrets.
Notes: For bytheseaside in her fabulous Rose’n’Martha ficathon, who requested “Martha and Rose save the world - sans Doctor”. That’s sort of just an element of the plot here; hope it still suits. Mild femslash; no real new series spoilers (set vaguely earlier in the season), some old skool plot points mentioned. Big thanks to croc_rocketfan for beta reading! ~ 1700 words.
He had told her to be careful (ghosts in the machine, she’d said mockingly, and he’d fixed those ancient eyes on her and she’d had to fight down that shudder she always got up her spine).
She’d still neglected to bring breadcrumbs; knowing the nature of the TARDIS a little bit by now anyway, she figured birds would be along to swoop down and eat them up, crumbs sliding down their greedy throats, before she’d gone more than five steps.
(If he’d told her what sorts of birds, she might not have gone exploring).
Still, she hadn’t expected this: rooms full of blinding light and sound, like singing, following her through door after door after desperate pitched toss through a low open window.
She landed with a bump on green grass and looked up to see a girl, smiling, holding out her hand.
“Who are you?” she said, but the girl just grinned and shook her head, blonde hair and all her teeth shining with the same light, but bearable.
She turned around and the window she’d jumped through was gone; a tall, grey building stood in its place, a wide, empty courtyard stretching out uninvitingly (except for that one splash of colour in the corner, such a bright, enduring blue).
She ran over to the TARDIS, the back of her mind repeating you’re already in it, you’re already in it, but the door opened true.
“Everything’s bigger on the inside around here,” the girl said, leaning against the door.
“So what part of the TARDIS is this, then?” Martha asked, a little bit too aggressively. “Like little boxes inside bigger ones?”
“This is my home,” the girl said. “Or at least, where I come from. I’m Rose. This is my London, and this is my TARDIS.”
Martha reflexively stood up straight, took a breath.
(From somewhere off in the depths of the box-inside-a-box-inside-space and time an owl hooted, plaintive and soft).
“The Doctor said you were gone,” Martha said, opting for the most obvious question with hopefully the least emotional baggage.
“The TARDIS is so, so old,” Rose said, patting the doors with reverence. “Oh, I’m in the alternate universe right now,” she continued, “saving the world from their version of the Sycorax. Actually, I could use a spot of help, hang on -”
(Closer now was the sharp, startled cry of a crow, tinged with envy and covetousness).
Rose flung open the doors, and ran outside. Martha followed; she couldn’t think of anything else to do, and she was safe in the TARDIS, after all. Probably. Didn’t do to think of the alternative.
They were in London - only it wasn’t quite London, she could see that straight away, probably given away by the zeppelins in the sky. All around them people stood on the edges of buildings and she bit back a shudder of fear and recognition.
“Come on,” Rose cried, running ahead. She reached out her hand, fingers outstretched and grasping, and Martha caught up with her and slid her hand in; a gentle, careful fit.
After that it was a blur: shouting and running, taking the lead, doing what had to be done. Rose seemed able to slip everywhere, between cracks in the wall and into army headquarters, and so long as Martha held her hand, she moved as effortlessly. It was, if she was honest with herself, absolutely thrilling.
It ended as it had ended in her world, snow falling gently on their heads, Rose’s dark eyes wordlessly warning her off from catching the flakes on her tongue. They’d won; at a cost, at a price, but they’d done it on their own, Rose whispering in the prime minister’s ear, Martha configuring the laser device, both of them giving the signal to fire in ghostly voices that sounded nothing like their own.
She shivered, then, the snow making her feel cold, the elation of the triumph rushing through her (and a nagging voice in her head telling her that they hadn’t been seen, hadn’t really done anything at all). Rose put an arm around her, and Martha rested her head on Rose’s shoulder.
From across the road came undecipherable shouts; for a moment, Martha was sure it was a raven, or maybe the first robin of spring. Instead it was an apparition of people coming through the snow - two men and a woman, and the woman was Rose.
“Shh,” Rose said, pulling Martha into the shadows. “If they see us, they won’t get it; they won’t understand.”
The three people passed by, laughing and pushing each other around and streaked with dirt and sweat and tears of joy. Rose watched them with wide eyes, and Martha watched Rose.
“It’s not real,” Rose said as soon as the trio had passed, “but we did help save them. We helped save the idea of them. The TARDIS will remember, and the future will form and split correctly. It’s so very complicated to explain; I’m not sure I understand it. But we do it all the time.”
“We?” Martha repeated, lost several sentences back.
“Polly is putting the chemicals she’ll need to destroy that Cyberman in the medical bay right now, and Ace is at batting practice. Mickey and Jake - those two guys that passed by with me just now - they’re infiltrating Torchwood.”
“Isn’t that…isn’t that wrong, then?” Martha said slowly, feeling her way carefully around the idea Rose had presented, trying not to cut herself on the jagged edges. “Like everything’s preordained? No free will?”
“Talk to Liz about that!” Rose said, smiling. “But it’s not really, you know? We’re just memories - we’re just trying our best. Out there we’re having beautiful lives, or sad lives, or whatever happens to us - but in here we just want to make sure that can continue, and so we say the right things to the right people and put the keys in safe places and make sure things happen the way they did happen. The Doctor, despite how he shows off, can’t do quite everything, you know.”
“He misses you,” Martha said suddenly, and then wished she hadn’t.
“He misses you,” Rose said sadly. “He’s always going to be alone, in the end.”
“Will I be here too?” she asked, startled. She left the after unsaid. Rose threaded her fingers through hers; both hands were battle-scarred, and beautiful.
“I don’t know how you found us here,” Rose said, “but I’m glad I got to meet you. The Doctor needs you so very much.”
“His eyes though…” Martha was uncertain. “He’s lost, I’d wager. I think that’s it. I don’t really know how to find him.”
“He’ll learn,” Rose said, off-handedly. “We know so much more than he does now. It’s weird, but it works. There’s so many secrets in here.”
“He lost his whole planet,” Martha pressed, “he lost his whole family. How can you be more alone than that?”
Rose’s demeanour changed, and she squeezed Martha’s hand so tightly it hurt. “No matter what anyone tells you,” she said fiercely, beautiful in her fury, “he’ll never, never be alone as long as he has you.”
“It’s okay, Rose,” Martha replied, and the other girl exhaled, shoulders slumping. There were a few moments of awkward silence, and then Rose perked up suddenly.
“C’mon,” she said, tugging at Martha’s hand, “let me show you a couple of things. Remember that time Leela saved the Doctor with a Janus thorn? Of course you wouldn’t, but you’ve got to see it, it was so perfect.”
Martha laughed and Rose chimed in, the sound of birds on the wire twittering with delight at a warm, fresh day.
“You’re mad,” Martha said, but she couldn’t stop grinning. “Absolutely mad. Does travelling with the Doctor do this to everyone? Do we have to save his arse every time?”
“And when we had to put the Wirrn corpse in that closet?” Rose continued, ignoring Martha’s question. “I thought Harry would faint, and he’s a doctor! But then you’d know all about him, by now.” She gave Martha a quick, knowing look.
“This is the biggest mindfuck I’ve ever experienced,” Martha said. “Well, biggest since -”
“ - we decided to try that tea from Rigel Five and ended up high as kites? God, that was hilarious,” Rose said, grinning at the memory dancing in front of her eyes.
“Jesus,” Martha said. “Listen, Rose, are you real or not? Am I real or not?”
“You can feel, right?” Rose replied, and leaned over and kissed her squarely on the lips.
When Rose kissed her, she could smell flowers; flowers and engine oil and last night’s fry-up. Their lips didn’t fit perfectly together, too aggressive and too soft, teeth briefly knocking, embarrassed sighs.
“Oh,” Martha said as Rose pulled away. “Yes, I see.”
“God, Rigel Five,” Rose said dreamily. “Harry was so pissed at us. And turned on.”
Martha cocked her head, something snapping into place. “Hang on. You sound…you sound real, now. Like someone the Doctor could love. Like a friend.”
Rose grinned, mischief in her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but all Martha heard was a cacophony of birdsong, dissonant. She shut her eyes (why?) and when she opened them again, she was right outside the console room.
"There you are," the Doctor said, looking up from the component he was working on. "Been gone an age, you have."
"Really?" she replied, trying for nonchalance. "Felt like only a moment to me."
"Time's a bit funny in here," he said. "Sometimes I don't know if I'm coming or going."
"You're telling me,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head and staring at him critically.
The Doctor looked concerned. “Is there something wrong? Did I do something wrong? Do you need to go home to your mother? Good thing, mothers. Well, not that I think so, but you know, we can get you your mother.”
Martha smiled. "My mother? There are worlds out there where the people are made of smoke, and the cities made of song. There's danger and injustice and we have things to do.” She moved to the other end of the console and started pulling some levers. “Hurry up, Doctor,” she called across the way, “the tea's getting cold."
The Doctor blinked. Around them, the TARDIS hummed and whistled contentedly.
Author: livii
Characters: Martha, Rose, the TARDIS; other companions mentioned
Rating: PG-13
Summary: “The Doctor, despite how he shows off, can’t do quite everything, you know.” The TARDIS is hiding some secrets.
Notes: For bytheseaside in her fabulous Rose’n’Martha ficathon, who requested “Martha and Rose save the world - sans Doctor”. That’s sort of just an element of the plot here; hope it still suits. Mild femslash; no real new series spoilers (set vaguely earlier in the season), some old skool plot points mentioned. Big thanks to croc_rocketfan for beta reading! ~ 1700 words.
He had told her to be careful (ghosts in the machine, she’d said mockingly, and he’d fixed those ancient eyes on her and she’d had to fight down that shudder she always got up her spine).
She’d still neglected to bring breadcrumbs; knowing the nature of the TARDIS a little bit by now anyway, she figured birds would be along to swoop down and eat them up, crumbs sliding down their greedy throats, before she’d gone more than five steps.
(If he’d told her what sorts of birds, she might not have gone exploring).
Still, she hadn’t expected this: rooms full of blinding light and sound, like singing, following her through door after door after desperate pitched toss through a low open window.
She landed with a bump on green grass and looked up to see a girl, smiling, holding out her hand.
“Who are you?” she said, but the girl just grinned and shook her head, blonde hair and all her teeth shining with the same light, but bearable.
She turned around and the window she’d jumped through was gone; a tall, grey building stood in its place, a wide, empty courtyard stretching out uninvitingly (except for that one splash of colour in the corner, such a bright, enduring blue).
She ran over to the TARDIS, the back of her mind repeating you’re already in it, you’re already in it, but the door opened true.
“Everything’s bigger on the inside around here,” the girl said, leaning against the door.
“So what part of the TARDIS is this, then?” Martha asked, a little bit too aggressively. “Like little boxes inside bigger ones?”
“This is my home,” the girl said. “Or at least, where I come from. I’m Rose. This is my London, and this is my TARDIS.”
Martha reflexively stood up straight, took a breath.
(From somewhere off in the depths of the box-inside-a-box-inside-space and time an owl hooted, plaintive and soft).
“The Doctor said you were gone,” Martha said, opting for the most obvious question with hopefully the least emotional baggage.
“The TARDIS is so, so old,” Rose said, patting the doors with reverence. “Oh, I’m in the alternate universe right now,” she continued, “saving the world from their version of the Sycorax. Actually, I could use a spot of help, hang on -”
(Closer now was the sharp, startled cry of a crow, tinged with envy and covetousness).
Rose flung open the doors, and ran outside. Martha followed; she couldn’t think of anything else to do, and she was safe in the TARDIS, after all. Probably. Didn’t do to think of the alternative.
They were in London - only it wasn’t quite London, she could see that straight away, probably given away by the zeppelins in the sky. All around them people stood on the edges of buildings and she bit back a shudder of fear and recognition.
“Come on,” Rose cried, running ahead. She reached out her hand, fingers outstretched and grasping, and Martha caught up with her and slid her hand in; a gentle, careful fit.
After that it was a blur: shouting and running, taking the lead, doing what had to be done. Rose seemed able to slip everywhere, between cracks in the wall and into army headquarters, and so long as Martha held her hand, she moved as effortlessly. It was, if she was honest with herself, absolutely thrilling.
It ended as it had ended in her world, snow falling gently on their heads, Rose’s dark eyes wordlessly warning her off from catching the flakes on her tongue. They’d won; at a cost, at a price, but they’d done it on their own, Rose whispering in the prime minister’s ear, Martha configuring the laser device, both of them giving the signal to fire in ghostly voices that sounded nothing like their own.
She shivered, then, the snow making her feel cold, the elation of the triumph rushing through her (and a nagging voice in her head telling her that they hadn’t been seen, hadn’t really done anything at all). Rose put an arm around her, and Martha rested her head on Rose’s shoulder.
From across the road came undecipherable shouts; for a moment, Martha was sure it was a raven, or maybe the first robin of spring. Instead it was an apparition of people coming through the snow - two men and a woman, and the woman was Rose.
“Shh,” Rose said, pulling Martha into the shadows. “If they see us, they won’t get it; they won’t understand.”
The three people passed by, laughing and pushing each other around and streaked with dirt and sweat and tears of joy. Rose watched them with wide eyes, and Martha watched Rose.
“It’s not real,” Rose said as soon as the trio had passed, “but we did help save them. We helped save the idea of them. The TARDIS will remember, and the future will form and split correctly. It’s so very complicated to explain; I’m not sure I understand it. But we do it all the time.”
“We?” Martha repeated, lost several sentences back.
“Polly is putting the chemicals she’ll need to destroy that Cyberman in the medical bay right now, and Ace is at batting practice. Mickey and Jake - those two guys that passed by with me just now - they’re infiltrating Torchwood.”
“Isn’t that…isn’t that wrong, then?” Martha said slowly, feeling her way carefully around the idea Rose had presented, trying not to cut herself on the jagged edges. “Like everything’s preordained? No free will?”
“Talk to Liz about that!” Rose said, smiling. “But it’s not really, you know? We’re just memories - we’re just trying our best. Out there we’re having beautiful lives, or sad lives, or whatever happens to us - but in here we just want to make sure that can continue, and so we say the right things to the right people and put the keys in safe places and make sure things happen the way they did happen. The Doctor, despite how he shows off, can’t do quite everything, you know.”
“He misses you,” Martha said suddenly, and then wished she hadn’t.
“He misses you,” Rose said sadly. “He’s always going to be alone, in the end.”
“Will I be here too?” she asked, startled. She left the after unsaid. Rose threaded her fingers through hers; both hands were battle-scarred, and beautiful.
“I don’t know how you found us here,” Rose said, “but I’m glad I got to meet you. The Doctor needs you so very much.”
“His eyes though…” Martha was uncertain. “He’s lost, I’d wager. I think that’s it. I don’t really know how to find him.”
“He’ll learn,” Rose said, off-handedly. “We know so much more than he does now. It’s weird, but it works. There’s so many secrets in here.”
“He lost his whole planet,” Martha pressed, “he lost his whole family. How can you be more alone than that?”
Rose’s demeanour changed, and she squeezed Martha’s hand so tightly it hurt. “No matter what anyone tells you,” she said fiercely, beautiful in her fury, “he’ll never, never be alone as long as he has you.”
“It’s okay, Rose,” Martha replied, and the other girl exhaled, shoulders slumping. There were a few moments of awkward silence, and then Rose perked up suddenly.
“C’mon,” she said, tugging at Martha’s hand, “let me show you a couple of things. Remember that time Leela saved the Doctor with a Janus thorn? Of course you wouldn’t, but you’ve got to see it, it was so perfect.”
Martha laughed and Rose chimed in, the sound of birds on the wire twittering with delight at a warm, fresh day.
“You’re mad,” Martha said, but she couldn’t stop grinning. “Absolutely mad. Does travelling with the Doctor do this to everyone? Do we have to save his arse every time?”
“And when we had to put the Wirrn corpse in that closet?” Rose continued, ignoring Martha’s question. “I thought Harry would faint, and he’s a doctor! But then you’d know all about him, by now.” She gave Martha a quick, knowing look.
“This is the biggest mindfuck I’ve ever experienced,” Martha said. “Well, biggest since -”
“ - we decided to try that tea from Rigel Five and ended up high as kites? God, that was hilarious,” Rose said, grinning at the memory dancing in front of her eyes.
“Jesus,” Martha said. “Listen, Rose, are you real or not? Am I real or not?”
“You can feel, right?” Rose replied, and leaned over and kissed her squarely on the lips.
When Rose kissed her, she could smell flowers; flowers and engine oil and last night’s fry-up. Their lips didn’t fit perfectly together, too aggressive and too soft, teeth briefly knocking, embarrassed sighs.
“Oh,” Martha said as Rose pulled away. “Yes, I see.”
“God, Rigel Five,” Rose said dreamily. “Harry was so pissed at us. And turned on.”
Martha cocked her head, something snapping into place. “Hang on. You sound…you sound real, now. Like someone the Doctor could love. Like a friend.”
Rose grinned, mischief in her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but all Martha heard was a cacophony of birdsong, dissonant. She shut her eyes (why?) and when she opened them again, she was right outside the console room.
"There you are," the Doctor said, looking up from the component he was working on. "Been gone an age, you have."
"Really?" she replied, trying for nonchalance. "Felt like only a moment to me."
"Time's a bit funny in here," he said. "Sometimes I don't know if I'm coming or going."
"You're telling me,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head and staring at him critically.
The Doctor looked concerned. “Is there something wrong? Did I do something wrong? Do you need to go home to your mother? Good thing, mothers. Well, not that I think so, but you know, we can get you your mother.”
Martha smiled. "My mother? There are worlds out there where the people are made of smoke, and the cities made of song. There's danger and injustice and we have things to do.” She moved to the other end of the console and started pulling some levers. “Hurry up, Doctor,” she called across the way, “the tea's getting cold."
The Doctor blinked. Around them, the TARDIS hummed and whistled contentedly.