Title: Thicks Man's Blood With Cold
Series: Journeys in the In-Between
Characters: Ten/Rose
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot!
Warnings: Adult
Notes: Sequel to Perchance to Die. Follows on immediately from the Season 2 episode The Age of Steel. Title a quote from Coleridge’s The Rime of the Ancient Mariner


Series: Journeys in the In-Between
Characters: Ten/Rose
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot!
Warnings: Adult
Notes: Sequel to Perchance to Die. Follows on immediately from the Season 2 episode The Age of Steel. Title a quote from Coleridge’s The Rime of the Ancient Mariner
Chapter 1. We Thoughtless Strayed
‘Who the hell do you think you are? You're staff! You're nothing but staff…’
‘We were too late. Lumic killed her.’
‘I've gotta go’
‘But Rose... It's just you and him, isn't it?’
‘What's wrong? Where did you go?’
‘My name was Jacqueline Tyler.’
‘Far away. That was... far away.’
‘Where's Mickey?’
‘It’s just you and him, isn’t it?’
‘He's gone home.’
Rose woke, shaking, from her nightmare. Mickey, Pete, her mum, all gone. She sat up, bending her knees and curling around them, muffling the last of her sobs within the protective cocoon of her bent body.
God, it hurt so much. Her family had rejected her each in turn; her mum-not-mum who was vicious and cold and then cybertised, her dad-not-dad, who couldn’t even look her in the eye when she told him who she was, and then Mickey, her oldest, closest friend, leaving her. Each of them had found her wanting and, in turn, she’d lost them. She rocked herself gently back and forwards, trying not to feel it as a judgement and failing. What was it that was so bad, so wrong, about her that neither Jackie nor Pete wanted her in that world? Was it the same failing that drove Mickey away? Her dad, in the past, had said she was beautiful, but he only knew her for a few hours. She had fought side by side with her dad-not-dad and he had turned away from her. What did he see? Why didn’t he want her?
Tucking her chin tight against her chest, she rested her forehead on her knees and tried desperately to banish the nightmare, and the tormenting thoughts it engendered, from her mind. She still had her mum, she still had the Doctor. Her chest tightened. For now. She still had them for now. She was beginning to wonder for how long that would be true.
She’d hurt Mickey, taken him for granted, strung him alone, kept him as a safety net while she ran around the Universe with the Doctor. He’d been driven away by her cruel disregard. No wonder her alternative parents hadn’t wanted anything to do with her. How long before she drove her mum away, too?
The Doctor had promised never to leave her, but what if the price for having the Doctor in her life was losing everything else? The Doctor had promised her so much, on Heaven, but could she trust him to keep his promises? What if she lost everything, gave up everything for him, only to lose him too? What if he left her behind again?
No! He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t!
She uncurled quickly, forcing her mind from the path it was wandering, turning to stare at her bedside clock. It was a little past two in the morning, far too early to be up. She doubted she would be able to sleep again for a while, though. This nightmare, which had haunted her every night since their return from the parallel world, left her desolate and tense. She needed to unwind. Kicking her fuchsia duvet to one side, she swung her legs out of her bed. Propelling herself up, she reached for her fleecy dressing gown and slipped her feet into some fluffy pink slippers before creeping towards her bedroom door.
Her mum had insisted on her staying in her old room in the flat and Rose was convinced being parted from the TARDIS was contributing to her sleeplessness. The TARDIS, the Doctor inside her, was parked in front of the tower block. She wanted her own bed and the reassuring presence of the ship and, if she were honest, the Doctor. Slipping from her room, she moved silently to the front door and, releasing the catch, stepped out into the communal corridor. She made swift work of the stairs and, within moments, was stepping cautiously across the exposed tarmac to the safety of the ship. Opening the door, she pushed inside. She was home.
The Doctor pottered beneath the console and worried. Things had been going so well; well, if you overlooked the whole Rose nearly dying from an alien plague. But, if one swept that little hitch under the proverbial rug, things had definitely been going well. Okay, if one ignored Reinette, leaving Rose stranded and then nearly getting her killed, if one ignored all of that, and possibly the Sarah-Jane thing, then things had definitely been going well. He’d told Rose how important she was to him, sort of, maybe not completely, but enough to stop her leaving, which was good. And they’d danced. He’d taken her to Heaven and they’d danced and it had been, well, fantastic! He’d pressed her against him and she’d felt like, like home. She fitted him. He fitted her. He’d felt, in that moment, not like the lonely angel Reinette had labelled him, but like a man saved, lifted up from purgatory and given the key to paradise. And then it had gone wrong. They’d crashed into a parallel world and everything had begun to fall apart.
A gingerbread house, he’d said, but whom had he been most afraid for? It hadn’t been concern for her, had it, that had had his hearts racing? He’d been terrified, paralysed by the possibility that she would be seduced by the chance of a complete family and leave him.
He’d started to believe in the possibility of him and Rose, but now he wasn’t so sure. He was losing perspective, losing control. He’d let her go off, into danger, without him, because he hadn’t known how to stop her without it looking like he was trying to keep her from Pete. He’d been so worried about her he’d been distracted and he wasn’t sure it wasn’t that distraction that had gotten Mrs Moore killed. Rose distracted him, his feelings for her distracted him. She was dangerous, but he couldn’t do without her. He’d faced the prospect of life without her too often recently and it had seemed to him as if he flirted with the gates of hell. He’d meant it when he’d said he’d die with her rather than lose her.
But he was hurting her. It had been fear, fear that she would be lured away, that had led him to try and stop her exploration. Selfish fear. But he’d been right, of course, it had been a terrible mistake, just not for the reasons he’d thought. She’d seen her mother destroyed, her father had rejected her and then Mickey, loyal and steadfast Mickey, had left her.
He cared about her. He wanted her. But he was destroying her, destroying her life. His actions had now seen her father returned to her only to be ripped away not once, but twice. And, to add to his sins, he’d separated her from her oldest friend and shown her her mother cybertised. He needed her, he didn’t want to do this without her anymore, but what was he doing to her in the process? Did he, each and every day, dim her star just a little, hurt her, just to keep her with him? Was his selfishness killing her by degrees?
He ran shaking hands through his hair before pressing the heels against his closed eyelids. He should just leave her. She was safe with Jackie. He should just leave, no goodbyes. If she were anyone else, wouldn’t he be gone by now? By any standard that he used to apply, wasn’t it time? Wasn’t it time to return her to her life, and for him to slip out of her life like the ‘Will o’the Wisp’ he was, before he led her to her death?
He slowly moved from beneath the console, shifting to stand before the controls. With one shaking hand he reached out and tweaked a dial. Just a few simple movements, throw a switch, and it would be done. She would be part of his past, a fond memory, a happy second in the span that was his life. All he had to do was push the button. His hand hovered over it. One motion, and she would be saved: saved from him, from this life. His fingers twitched. Then he heard a key in the lock.
‘Rose!’ He sounded like a child caught with their hand in the biscuit barrel. He affected a cough, snatching his hand away from the console guiltily. Don’t let her have seen, please, Rassilon, don’t let her have seen. He moved towards her, blocking her view of the console.
‘Hiya.’ She sounded wan and tired. He frowned, only now taking in her appearance and becoming sensible of the time. It was late. Or early. Too late or early for Rose to be up and about, sleep-loving little ape-descendant that she was.
‘Are you all right?’ He reached out a hand towards her only to snatch it back when he perceived it was still trembling. He’d been so close to leaving her. If she hadn’t come back… Why had she come back? She was talking. He refocused. Sleep. She was talking about sleep.
‘Couldn’t sleep. Missed the sound of the TARDIS. It’s all right, isn’t it, me coming back ’ere to sleep?’
He rushed to answer. ‘Of course it is, Rose. Do you need something, to help you sleep?’
‘Nah, I’ll be okay now.’ She smiled at him, and began to shuffle towards her room. ‘Night Doctor.’
‘Goodnight, Rose.’
He watched her leave, hearts thundering in his chest. Only when he was sure she had gone did he turn back to the console. Slowly, he reset the dials and knobs he had changed. It was not time. It would never be time. He needed her and she, she needed him.
Chapter 2
‘Who the hell do you think you are? You're staff! You're nothing but staff…’
‘We were too late. Lumic killed her.’
‘I've gotta go’
‘But Rose... It's just you and him, isn't it?’
‘What's wrong? Where did you go?’
‘My name was Jacqueline Tyler.’
‘Far away. That was... far away.’
‘Where's Mickey?’
‘It’s just you and him, isn’t it?’
‘He's gone home.’
Rose woke, shaking, from her nightmare. Mickey, Pete, her mum, all gone. She sat up, bending her knees and curling around them, muffling the last of her sobs within the protective cocoon of her bent body.
God, it hurt so much. Her family had rejected her each in turn; her mum-not-mum who was vicious and cold and then cybertised, her dad-not-dad, who couldn’t even look her in the eye when she told him who she was, and then Mickey, her oldest, closest friend, leaving her. Each of them had found her wanting and, in turn, she’d lost them. She rocked herself gently back and forwards, trying not to feel it as a judgement and failing. What was it that was so bad, so wrong, about her that neither Jackie nor Pete wanted her in that world? Was it the same failing that drove Mickey away? Her dad, in the past, had said she was beautiful, but he only knew her for a few hours. She had fought side by side with her dad-not-dad and he had turned away from her. What did he see? Why didn’t he want her?
Tucking her chin tight against her chest, she rested her forehead on her knees and tried desperately to banish the nightmare, and the tormenting thoughts it engendered, from her mind. She still had her mum, she still had the Doctor. Her chest tightened. For now. She still had them for now. She was beginning to wonder for how long that would be true.
She’d hurt Mickey, taken him for granted, strung him alone, kept him as a safety net while she ran around the Universe with the Doctor. He’d been driven away by her cruel disregard. No wonder her alternative parents hadn’t wanted anything to do with her. How long before she drove her mum away, too?
The Doctor had promised never to leave her, but what if the price for having the Doctor in her life was losing everything else? The Doctor had promised her so much, on Heaven, but could she trust him to keep his promises? What if she lost everything, gave up everything for him, only to lose him too? What if he left her behind again?
No! He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t!
She uncurled quickly, forcing her mind from the path it was wandering, turning to stare at her bedside clock. It was a little past two in the morning, far too early to be up. She doubted she would be able to sleep again for a while, though. This nightmare, which had haunted her every night since their return from the parallel world, left her desolate and tense. She needed to unwind. Kicking her fuchsia duvet to one side, she swung her legs out of her bed. Propelling herself up, she reached for her fleecy dressing gown and slipped her feet into some fluffy pink slippers before creeping towards her bedroom door.
Her mum had insisted on her staying in her old room in the flat and Rose was convinced being parted from the TARDIS was contributing to her sleeplessness. The TARDIS, the Doctor inside her, was parked in front of the tower block. She wanted her own bed and the reassuring presence of the ship and, if she were honest, the Doctor. Slipping from her room, she moved silently to the front door and, releasing the catch, stepped out into the communal corridor. She made swift work of the stairs and, within moments, was stepping cautiously across the exposed tarmac to the safety of the ship. Opening the door, she pushed inside. She was home.
The Doctor pottered beneath the console and worried. Things had been going so well; well, if you overlooked the whole Rose nearly dying from an alien plague. But, if one swept that little hitch under the proverbial rug, things had definitely been going well. Okay, if one ignored Reinette, leaving Rose stranded and then nearly getting her killed, if one ignored all of that, and possibly the Sarah-Jane thing, then things had definitely been going well. He’d told Rose how important she was to him, sort of, maybe not completely, but enough to stop her leaving, which was good. And they’d danced. He’d taken her to Heaven and they’d danced and it had been, well, fantastic! He’d pressed her against him and she’d felt like, like home. She fitted him. He fitted her. He’d felt, in that moment, not like the lonely angel Reinette had labelled him, but like a man saved, lifted up from purgatory and given the key to paradise. And then it had gone wrong. They’d crashed into a parallel world and everything had begun to fall apart.
A gingerbread house, he’d said, but whom had he been most afraid for? It hadn’t been concern for her, had it, that had had his hearts racing? He’d been terrified, paralysed by the possibility that she would be seduced by the chance of a complete family and leave him.
He’d started to believe in the possibility of him and Rose, but now he wasn’t so sure. He was losing perspective, losing control. He’d let her go off, into danger, without him, because he hadn’t known how to stop her without it looking like he was trying to keep her from Pete. He’d been so worried about her he’d been distracted and he wasn’t sure it wasn’t that distraction that had gotten Mrs Moore killed. Rose distracted him, his feelings for her distracted him. She was dangerous, but he couldn’t do without her. He’d faced the prospect of life without her too often recently and it had seemed to him as if he flirted with the gates of hell. He’d meant it when he’d said he’d die with her rather than lose her.
But he was hurting her. It had been fear, fear that she would be lured away, that had led him to try and stop her exploration. Selfish fear. But he’d been right, of course, it had been a terrible mistake, just not for the reasons he’d thought. She’d seen her mother destroyed, her father had rejected her and then Mickey, loyal and steadfast Mickey, had left her.
He cared about her. He wanted her. But he was destroying her, destroying her life. His actions had now seen her father returned to her only to be ripped away not once, but twice. And, to add to his sins, he’d separated her from her oldest friend and shown her her mother cybertised. He needed her, he didn’t want to do this without her anymore, but what was he doing to her in the process? Did he, each and every day, dim her star just a little, hurt her, just to keep her with him? Was his selfishness killing her by degrees?
He ran shaking hands through his hair before pressing the heels against his closed eyelids. He should just leave her. She was safe with Jackie. He should just leave, no goodbyes. If she were anyone else, wouldn’t he be gone by now? By any standard that he used to apply, wasn’t it time? Wasn’t it time to return her to her life, and for him to slip out of her life like the ‘Will o’the Wisp’ he was, before he led her to her death?
He slowly moved from beneath the console, shifting to stand before the controls. With one shaking hand he reached out and tweaked a dial. Just a few simple movements, throw a switch, and it would be done. She would be part of his past, a fond memory, a happy second in the span that was his life. All he had to do was push the button. His hand hovered over it. One motion, and she would be saved: saved from him, from this life. His fingers twitched. Then he heard a key in the lock.
‘Rose!’ He sounded like a child caught with their hand in the biscuit barrel. He affected a cough, snatching his hand away from the console guiltily. Don’t let her have seen, please, Rassilon, don’t let her have seen. He moved towards her, blocking her view of the console.
‘Hiya.’ She sounded wan and tired. He frowned, only now taking in her appearance and becoming sensible of the time. It was late. Or early. Too late or early for Rose to be up and about, sleep-loving little ape-descendant that she was.
‘Are you all right?’ He reached out a hand towards her only to snatch it back when he perceived it was still trembling. He’d been so close to leaving her. If she hadn’t come back… Why had she come back? She was talking. He refocused. Sleep. She was talking about sleep.
‘Couldn’t sleep. Missed the sound of the TARDIS. It’s all right, isn’t it, me coming back ’ere to sleep?’
He rushed to answer. ‘Of course it is, Rose. Do you need something, to help you sleep?’
‘Nah, I’ll be okay now.’ She smiled at him, and began to shuffle towards her room. ‘Night Doctor.’
‘Goodnight, Rose.’
He watched her leave, hearts thundering in his chest. Only when he was sure she had gone did he turn back to the console. Slowly, he reset the dials and knobs he had changed. It was not time. It would never be time. He needed her and she, she needed him.
Chapter 2