Fic: Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot (Ten II/Rose)
Title: Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot
Pairing: Ten II/Rose, Ten/Rose
Spoilers: Inspired by spoilers for the last of the 2009 Specials and also by some S5 set pictures.
Summary: “Did I ever tell you about that weird bloke who came up to me on New Year’s a few years back? It was right before we met.”
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,800
A/N: Thanks to _thirty2flavors for betaing and the title even if she was horrified that I didn't get the reference. And also because yet another one of our cracky speculation discussions ended up leading to semi-serious fic.
Snow dusts over the Powell Estate, softening its more jagged edges and obscuring the worst of the graffiti behind a garnish of holiday cheer.
The Doctor leans heavily against a wall, breath coming out in rattling gasps. His eyes are fixed on Rose Tyler, her arms folded across her chest, her lips curved into a disinterested smile as Jackie natters in her ear. He lets the sight of her wash over him, and he barely gives a sparing thought to all the ways that this could be dangerous.
Then he lets go of the wall and approaches her.
***
Rose shifted, throwing one leg over his and dragging the blanket up over them. “Hello,” she said, pressing her nose against the Doctor’s cheek. The candles on the coffee table flickered, casting soft shadows across the room. “It’s cold.”
“It is unreasonably cold,” he confirmed, hands pressing against her back and drawing her in close.
“Any other New Year’s and we would be the first out the door,” Rose continued. She pouted. “We need a mysterious alien phenomenon to stop.”
“Maybe even an invasion,” said the Doctor glumly. “Did I ever tell you about the horned snicknick in the year 1908? Tried to eat Lucy Maud Montgomery. Just think, one step closer and the world would never have had Anne of Green Gables.”
“Hmm.”
“I love Anne of Green Gables,” continued the Doctor. “There is an Anne of Green Gables in this world, isn’t there? That thing with Harry Potter was unsettling enough.”
Rose grinned in reply and pressed a kiss to his cheek before settling down against him, listening to the steady beat of his heart against her ear. “The whole city’s ground to a halt,” Rose said, growing sullen again. “Not even aliens are stupid enough to come here.”
“This is England,” said the Doctor, “not the Canadian North. Where is all the snow coming from?”
Rose’s eyes shifted to where white snow and ice coated their living room windows. “Parallel world?” she suggested. “Whatever it is, it’s not normal.” She paused to think. “Too bad the cold shorted out the power. We can’t even watch telly.”
“Hmm,” said the Doctor, in a tone of voice that intimated he was considering fiddling with something in such a way that would lead to blowing up half the flat or creating a crater in the middle of the road. Or both. “If I short out the electric magnifiers with the sonic screwdriver, I might be able to re-integrate the-”
“Why don’t we tell each other stories instead?” Rose cut in. “I’ll start.” She looked wildly around, eyes settling on the snow blowing outside the window again. She shivered and another New Year’s snowfall jogged to life in her memory. “Did I ever tell you about that weird bloke who came up to me on New Year’s a few years back? It was right before we met.”
The words “weird bloke” seemed to momentarily distract the Doctor from doing anything that might blow up their flat. He blinked. “What sort of bloke?”
She shrugged. “He looked like he’d been mauled by a tiger or something. I reckoned he must have been homeless, but we didn’t talk for very long.”
The Doctor looked intrigued. “What did he say?”
“He asked me what year it was.” She paused, trying to remember. “He was sort of… staggering about. Maybe he was drunk. I felt bad for him, though. I even asked him if he needed anything, but he said he was fine, and then took off before I could stop him.”
There was a long pause, and then in a strained voice, he said, “Rose, what was he wearing?”
Rose shook her head, trying to recall the memory. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push thoughts of Anne of Green Gables and white blizzards from her mind. She focused on a cold New Year’s night in 2005 when a strange man asked her a seemingly harmless question in an alleyway.
“...brown,” she finally settled on. “He was wearing brown.”
She opened her eyes to find the Doctor staring at her with his mouth partially agape. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks and she sat up straighter, gaze flying to his.
“You don’t think...” she began. “You hadn’t...?”
“It wasn’t me,” he said defensively.
“So it was him,” Rose said. “The Time Lord Doctor.”
“Now we don’t know that for certain,” said the Doctor. “You said it yourself, Rose. You thought he was homeless.”
“You don’t think so, though,” she said, watching his face closely. “You think it was him... the other you.”
“Could be.”
“But...” Rose said. She shifted over to her own side of the couch and crossed her legs. “Why would he do that? Isn’t it dangerous for him to mess with my timeline?”
There was no response and Rose turned her head to find him staring gravely ahead.
“What is it?” she pressed.
He sighed and then in a heavy voice said, “You thought he’d... how did you describe it? He looked like he’d been mauled by a tiger, Rose.”
“What does that...?” she trailed off. “Oh...oh. He was regenerating.”
The Doctor inclined his head and Rose twisted her fingers together her lap, gaze drifting to the snow blowing by their window. Regenerating, she thought. It was strange how the mere thought still made her feel panicky and nauseous. The Doctor she knew was gone, and somewhere out there was a version of him she wouldn’t ever know.
“Why would he do that?” she burst out, fighting a growing hysteria. “I didn’t even know who he was!”
“Well...” he scratched the back of his neck, looking intensely uncomfortable. Finally, he said, “I imagine he wanted to say goodbye.”
“Some goodbye that would have been,” she muttered.
“Come on, that’s not fair,” said the Doctor. “It’s not like you were around for him to do it properly. So he stretched the rules of time travel a bit.” He shrugged. “I’ve done it before.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Rose admitted. “I just... I wish I’d known.”
Her fingers clenched and unclenched in her lap and she fought back tears. She could scarcely believe it-the first time she met the Doctor, she hadn’t even know who he was.
“Rose-” he shifted closer to her. His hands came down to rest on hers. “I can show you.”
“How do you mean?”
He shifted, knees bumping hers. He brought his hands up to her face, fingers resting against her temples. “I’m not... quite as psychic as I used to be, but I think I can manage a little trip down memory lane. What do you think?”
“What?” Rose said, startled. Her eyes cut over to his. “You want to go in my head and shift through my thoughts?”
She saw a flicker of something that looked like hurt in his eyes, but he only said, “It’s up to you. I won’t look at anything you don’t want me to. I promise.”
“No, I trust you,” Rose said. “Just seems... so alien,” she settled on, smiling ruefully. It was odd the things that made her take notice after all these years. He could grow from a hand and she barely blinked, but going through her head suddenly felt like a step she wasn’t sure she was ready for.
“We don’t have to,” said the Doctor, slowly lowering his hands. “I thought you might want to know for certain.”
“I do. I think.” She thought for a minute. “It’s nice to think he might have...” She stared down at her lap. “But it makes it all real, doesn’t it? He’s regenerated. Blimey.”
“Could have been ages ago now,” he pointed out.
Sometimes, Rose thought, he could be a bit useless at comforting her. “Listen, I do want to know, and it’s not that I don’t trust your Jedi mind tricks, yeah? I just dunno if I want to know right this instant.”
The Doctor looked adorably baffled. “How do you mean?”
“Makes it all real, I suppose,” Rose said. “It was nice to think that he was... still out there.” She paused. "That sounds stupid."
She looked at the Doctor, hoping this might be one of those times when they were so in sync with each other that he would intuitively know what she meant. And maybe hug her. A hug would be nice.
But he still looked confused. "Rose, he is still out there."
Rose sighed. She reckoned they would never see regenerating in exactly the same way. “Okay,” she said, after a pause. She took his hands in hers. “Let’s give this a try. But you can’t just go wondering through my head, yeah? Some things have to stay private.”
“Rose Tyler, I would never,” he said, with a mock seriousness. And then, waggling his eyebrows, added, “Hiding something, are we?”
She glared at him. “Are we gonna do this or not?”
He sobered. He shifted closer to her, and then reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before pressing his fingers against her temples. He gazed at her tenderly. “Ready?”
Rose took a deep breath. “Yeah.”
She instinctively closed her eyes, body tensing. It wasn’t uncomfortable or painful or anything like that, but she definitely knew she wasn’t alone in her head. And even though she trusted him, it was weird to think another person had such easy access to everything she thought of as private and personal.
“Relax,” he said softly, and she jumped at the sound of his voice. “Try and think about that night. Anything particularly memorable about it?”
“We were at the Powell Estate,” Rose whispered, feeling a sharp stab of grief even though the Doctor had never been so close to her. “It was snowing.”
***
White flakes of snow catch on Rose's hat before melting. There’s sympathy in her eyes, but no spark or sign that she recognizes him.
He had never stopped to consider how painful that would be.
“I’m fine,” he tells her even though it isn't strictly true--isn't even remotely true at this particular moment. “Always.”
He turns to go, trying to appear like he’s steady on his feet and not doing a very good job, but something makes him stop. Rose opens her mouth, but before she can say anything, he says, “You are going to have a brilliant year.”
And so did I, he adds to himself silently.
Her smile is timid but pleased, and he decides then that it’s time to go. Best to leave things on a high note.
And who knows, he thinks, as he stumbles away, clutching at a pain in his side. She might remember one day.
Pairing: Ten II/Rose, Ten/Rose
Spoilers: Inspired by spoilers for the last of the 2009 Specials and also by some S5 set pictures.
Summary: “Did I ever tell you about that weird bloke who came up to me on New Year’s a few years back? It was right before we met.”
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,800
A/N: Thanks to _thirty2flavors for betaing and the title even if she was horrified that I didn't get the reference. And also because yet another one of our cracky speculation discussions ended up leading to semi-serious fic.
Snow dusts over the Powell Estate, softening its more jagged edges and obscuring the worst of the graffiti behind a garnish of holiday cheer.
The Doctor leans heavily against a wall, breath coming out in rattling gasps. His eyes are fixed on Rose Tyler, her arms folded across her chest, her lips curved into a disinterested smile as Jackie natters in her ear. He lets the sight of her wash over him, and he barely gives a sparing thought to all the ways that this could be dangerous.
Then he lets go of the wall and approaches her.
***
Rose shifted, throwing one leg over his and dragging the blanket up over them. “Hello,” she said, pressing her nose against the Doctor’s cheek. The candles on the coffee table flickered, casting soft shadows across the room. “It’s cold.”
“It is unreasonably cold,” he confirmed, hands pressing against her back and drawing her in close.
“Any other New Year’s and we would be the first out the door,” Rose continued. She pouted. “We need a mysterious alien phenomenon to stop.”
“Maybe even an invasion,” said the Doctor glumly. “Did I ever tell you about the horned snicknick in the year 1908? Tried to eat Lucy Maud Montgomery. Just think, one step closer and the world would never have had Anne of Green Gables.”
“Hmm.”
“I love Anne of Green Gables,” continued the Doctor. “There is an Anne of Green Gables in this world, isn’t there? That thing with Harry Potter was unsettling enough.”
Rose grinned in reply and pressed a kiss to his cheek before settling down against him, listening to the steady beat of his heart against her ear. “The whole city’s ground to a halt,” Rose said, growing sullen again. “Not even aliens are stupid enough to come here.”
“This is England,” said the Doctor, “not the Canadian North. Where is all the snow coming from?”
Rose’s eyes shifted to where white snow and ice coated their living room windows. “Parallel world?” she suggested. “Whatever it is, it’s not normal.” She paused to think. “Too bad the cold shorted out the power. We can’t even watch telly.”
“Hmm,” said the Doctor, in a tone of voice that intimated he was considering fiddling with something in such a way that would lead to blowing up half the flat or creating a crater in the middle of the road. Or both. “If I short out the electric magnifiers with the sonic screwdriver, I might be able to re-integrate the-”
“Why don’t we tell each other stories instead?” Rose cut in. “I’ll start.” She looked wildly around, eyes settling on the snow blowing outside the window again. She shivered and another New Year’s snowfall jogged to life in her memory. “Did I ever tell you about that weird bloke who came up to me on New Year’s a few years back? It was right before we met.”
The words “weird bloke” seemed to momentarily distract the Doctor from doing anything that might blow up their flat. He blinked. “What sort of bloke?”
She shrugged. “He looked like he’d been mauled by a tiger or something. I reckoned he must have been homeless, but we didn’t talk for very long.”
The Doctor looked intrigued. “What did he say?”
“He asked me what year it was.” She paused, trying to remember. “He was sort of… staggering about. Maybe he was drunk. I felt bad for him, though. I even asked him if he needed anything, but he said he was fine, and then took off before I could stop him.”
There was a long pause, and then in a strained voice, he said, “Rose, what was he wearing?”
Rose shook her head, trying to recall the memory. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push thoughts of Anne of Green Gables and white blizzards from her mind. She focused on a cold New Year’s night in 2005 when a strange man asked her a seemingly harmless question in an alleyway.
“...brown,” she finally settled on. “He was wearing brown.”
She opened her eyes to find the Doctor staring at her with his mouth partially agape. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks and she sat up straighter, gaze flying to his.
“You don’t think...” she began. “You hadn’t...?”
“It wasn’t me,” he said defensively.
“So it was him,” Rose said. “The Time Lord Doctor.”
“Now we don’t know that for certain,” said the Doctor. “You said it yourself, Rose. You thought he was homeless.”
“You don’t think so, though,” she said, watching his face closely. “You think it was him... the other you.”
“Could be.”
“But...” Rose said. She shifted over to her own side of the couch and crossed her legs. “Why would he do that? Isn’t it dangerous for him to mess with my timeline?”
There was no response and Rose turned her head to find him staring gravely ahead.
“What is it?” she pressed.
He sighed and then in a heavy voice said, “You thought he’d... how did you describe it? He looked like he’d been mauled by a tiger, Rose.”
“What does that...?” she trailed off. “Oh...oh. He was regenerating.”
The Doctor inclined his head and Rose twisted her fingers together her lap, gaze drifting to the snow blowing by their window. Regenerating, she thought. It was strange how the mere thought still made her feel panicky and nauseous. The Doctor she knew was gone, and somewhere out there was a version of him she wouldn’t ever know.
“Why would he do that?” she burst out, fighting a growing hysteria. “I didn’t even know who he was!”
“Well...” he scratched the back of his neck, looking intensely uncomfortable. Finally, he said, “I imagine he wanted to say goodbye.”
“Some goodbye that would have been,” she muttered.
“Come on, that’s not fair,” said the Doctor. “It’s not like you were around for him to do it properly. So he stretched the rules of time travel a bit.” He shrugged. “I’ve done it before.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Rose admitted. “I just... I wish I’d known.”
Her fingers clenched and unclenched in her lap and she fought back tears. She could scarcely believe it-the first time she met the Doctor, she hadn’t even know who he was.
“Rose-” he shifted closer to her. His hands came down to rest on hers. “I can show you.”
“How do you mean?”
He shifted, knees bumping hers. He brought his hands up to her face, fingers resting against her temples. “I’m not... quite as psychic as I used to be, but I think I can manage a little trip down memory lane. What do you think?”
“What?” Rose said, startled. Her eyes cut over to his. “You want to go in my head and shift through my thoughts?”
She saw a flicker of something that looked like hurt in his eyes, but he only said, “It’s up to you. I won’t look at anything you don’t want me to. I promise.”
“No, I trust you,” Rose said. “Just seems... so alien,” she settled on, smiling ruefully. It was odd the things that made her take notice after all these years. He could grow from a hand and she barely blinked, but going through her head suddenly felt like a step she wasn’t sure she was ready for.
“We don’t have to,” said the Doctor, slowly lowering his hands. “I thought you might want to know for certain.”
“I do. I think.” She thought for a minute. “It’s nice to think he might have...” She stared down at her lap. “But it makes it all real, doesn’t it? He’s regenerated. Blimey.”
“Could have been ages ago now,” he pointed out.
Sometimes, Rose thought, he could be a bit useless at comforting her. “Listen, I do want to know, and it’s not that I don’t trust your Jedi mind tricks, yeah? I just dunno if I want to know right this instant.”
The Doctor looked adorably baffled. “How do you mean?”
“Makes it all real, I suppose,” Rose said. “It was nice to think that he was... still out there.” She paused. "That sounds stupid."
She looked at the Doctor, hoping this might be one of those times when they were so in sync with each other that he would intuitively know what she meant. And maybe hug her. A hug would be nice.
But he still looked confused. "Rose, he is still out there."
Rose sighed. She reckoned they would never see regenerating in exactly the same way. “Okay,” she said, after a pause. She took his hands in hers. “Let’s give this a try. But you can’t just go wondering through my head, yeah? Some things have to stay private.”
“Rose Tyler, I would never,” he said, with a mock seriousness. And then, waggling his eyebrows, added, “Hiding something, are we?”
She glared at him. “Are we gonna do this or not?”
He sobered. He shifted closer to her, and then reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before pressing his fingers against her temples. He gazed at her tenderly. “Ready?”
Rose took a deep breath. “Yeah.”
She instinctively closed her eyes, body tensing. It wasn’t uncomfortable or painful or anything like that, but she definitely knew she wasn’t alone in her head. And even though she trusted him, it was weird to think another person had such easy access to everything she thought of as private and personal.
“Relax,” he said softly, and she jumped at the sound of his voice. “Try and think about that night. Anything particularly memorable about it?”
“We were at the Powell Estate,” Rose whispered, feeling a sharp stab of grief even though the Doctor had never been so close to her. “It was snowing.”
***
White flakes of snow catch on Rose's hat before melting. There’s sympathy in her eyes, but no spark or sign that she recognizes him.
He had never stopped to consider how painful that would be.
“I’m fine,” he tells her even though it isn't strictly true--isn't even remotely true at this particular moment. “Always.”
He turns to go, trying to appear like he’s steady on his feet and not doing a very good job, but something makes him stop. Rose opens her mouth, but before she can say anything, he says, “You are going to have a brilliant year.”
And so did I, he adds to himself silently.
Her smile is timid but pleased, and he decides then that it’s time to go. Best to leave things on a high note.
And who knows, he thinks, as he stumbles away, clutching at a pain in his side. She might remember one day.