When There's No Trust
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who in any way, shape or form. This is for fun; no profit given. Well... except some wonderful, constructive reviews of course -hint,hint-
Pairing(s): 10Rose, MickeyRose
Chapter Rating: K+
Genre(s): Angst/ Hurt/Comfort/ Romance/ sci-fi... (I know - a lot)
Summary: Rose has detached herself from the Doctor when he needs to understand. Has he already left it too late? How will he bear it when he learns her trust in him has vanished? They're slipping further apart, but the nightmare is far from over...
Set about a week after 'The Girl in the Fireplace', so spoilers for that and anything before.
A.N: Okay, this is an AU Doctor Who fic from GitF onwards. It explores the Doctor's, Rose's, and Mickey's relationship on the Tardis, and the pain that they, Rose in particular, face when the Doctor abandons her and Mickey on the space station. However it's important to remember that this story strictly deals (at least at the start) with how they feel after being left behind , not because he fell for Reneitte. There is not one bad word about Reneiette. In fact, she is hardly mentioned. In this story, Rose bears no grudge against her ... but as for one against the Doctor... well that's the story I'm telling, right now...
Edited Slightly for grammar, re-wording and spelling mistakes - 27/09/08
Chapter I - Realisation
The Doctor didn't look up when Mickey entered.
He was sat on the sofa in the console room; his legs crossed, a book sat in his hand and eyes were fixed down upon it, looking through his dark rimmed spectacles that were propped carefully on the end of his nose. He licked the end of his finger before he turned the page, thoughtful features in place. His brow was crinkled in concentration as he read on, and he looked in no way like he wanted to be disturbed.
Not that that was going to stop Mickey, of course. "Doctor," he said carefully and abruptly, crossing his arms and standing next to the sofa, by the Timelord.
For a moment, Mickey wondered if the Doctor had not heard him. He didn't look up at him. His eyes vibrated down the page for several more moments, still with the same expression. Then he sighed, slotting a rectangular piece of card inside the book at his page as a bookmark, and closed it carefully. He placed it next to him on the sofa, and then, finally, turned his gaze to Mickey.
"Mickey-the-idiot?" the Doctor said, with the air of only just noticing he was there. His eyebrows rose. "Fancy seeing you here," he exclaimed, as if Mickey hadn't been travelling with the Timelord for over a week – Tardis time.
Mickey rolled his eyes, then his gaze fell upon the book lying on the sofa, "I thought you could read somethin' in, like, a few seconds? You're not even half way through that."
"Who told you that?" the Doctor asked, leaning back and crossing his arms in the same manner as Mickey, eye brows raised. The boy in front of him shrugged, and the Doctor waved a hand dismissively. "Never hurts to be thorough." Then he smirked, "Not that you'd know, when was the last time you read a book?"
"I read!" Mickey exclaimed in outrage.
"Really? What was the last thing you read?" The Doctor's brows shot higher, in danger of disappearing into his wild brown hair.
"I was readin' this mornin'!" he insisted, and the Doctor looked at him pointedly. He shrugged, "Well… football magazine… I was still readin' though. An' I bet it was more interesting than whatever that is," he waved his hand to the Doctor's book.
The Doctor scoffed, "As if." He went over to the control panel, "So? You're in here - you want something. Does that mean you're ready to go somewhere else? Into some other unknown?" He grinned, and looked toward the corridor, "Where's Rose? Can't have her missing out. We could go back to the nineteen-fifties… meet Elvis! Ooh, or World war two… only, not in France, the actual war isn't pleasant… We could meet Winston Churchill! Good man; Winston Churchill!"
Mickey simply stared at the Doctor as he enthused through his babble; arms still crossed tightly, an unpleasant glare in place.
"There's ten-sixty-six, we could meet William the Conqueror, eh? Or we could… We could…" he stopped, his enthusiasm draining as he eyed Mickey uneasily, "Why are you staring at me like that?"
"How long have we been in the Tardis now, since the space station?" Mickey asked, with the threatening glare still blazing at the Doctor.
"I don't know," the Doctor frowned thoughtfully. "A bit under a week… or a bit more…" he shrugged. "Why? Feel cooped up? I just said we can go anywhere you like right now… wherever you like… God, I'm even letting you choose..." He shook his head in wonder.
"I wasn't talkin' about that."
The Doctor frowned. "I'm sorry I must have gained the wrong impression when you asked me about it." he muttered sarcastically. He shook his head. "You've lost me…"
"How long since you talked to Rose?"
"What are you dithering on about? I talked to just the other… last… I mean just the other…" He frowned. The other what? said a voice in his head suddenly. Hour? Day? Week? "Well, I spoke to her just this morning," he announced, remembering.
"You said good morning, she didn't reply, and you've said nothing to her since," Mickey said tightly.
"They were words, weren't they!" he exclaimed. Then he stopped, and his face fell. When had it gotten this bad? He looked at Mickey, "Is she okay?"
Mickey shrugged. "Difficult to tell," he admitted honestly.
"Well, what's wrong with her?" the Doctor said with evident concern.
Mickey shook his head, "If you don't know, I ain't gonna tell you." The Timelord's shoulders slumped and he looked a little lost for a moment. Mickey took pity on him, "Did you really think she was okay? She's barely said two words to ya this past week, didn't you notice?"
"Well, yes, I just…" He trailed off and stared ahead in thought; yes, he had noticed, of course he'd noticed, how could he not? And his worry had increased the longer it went on, but he hadn't really known what to do about it… he'd simply told himself it was just a phase, or a mood, or maybe something to do with the human female brain this time of the month or something.
"Just what Doctor?"
"I don't know," he exclaimed, finding this conversation with this particular young man more than a little difficult. He glared at Mickey, "Tell me what's wrong with her then?"
"I already said I'm not spellin' out to you," Mickey guffawed. The Doctor ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Ha-ha!" cried Mickey in triumph. "Don't like it when 'Mickey-the-idiot' knows somethin' you don't, do ya? Feelin' a bit lost, Doctor?"
The Doctor glared at him, and was just about to say something – any degree of wit that would wipe the smirk off of his face would do – when a quiet, familiar, female voice came quietly from the doorway leading to the corridors, "What's all the shouting about?"
The Doctor's head whipped round to see Rose, standing there in her dressing gown; hair unkempt, and eyes a bleary brown. She held her fluffy white dressing gown close to her, and looked through her long eyelashes at the two men by the console, confusion and bewilderment evident on her face. The Doctor couldn't help noticing how much she lacked in her usual spark. Wouldn't she usually be a little annoyed about now, playfully scolding them both for waking her?
Mickey smiled fondly at Rose and walked over to her. "We weren't shouting," he told her, "just talkin'. You look exhausted, you should go back to bed."
Rose looked at Mickey, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards only lightly. "I'm up now, might as well get somethin' to eat," she mumbled. "I'm starvin'." She turned back around, and headed in the direction of the kitchen, not even glancing in the Doctor's direction.
He blinked. "Have I been missing something?" he asked Mickey, once Rose had disappeared.
"You can be a bit blind at times," Mickey affirmed with a nod.
"How long has she been ignoring me?" he asked quietly, slightly wide-eyed and incredulous.
"You haven't noticed at all?" Mickey shook his head.
"Well, yeah, I just assumed it was one of those phases, or moods, it's a big ship and she was always somewhere else, and…" he trailed off; all his reasons sounded a tad pathetic when said out loud. He supposed he just hadn't been paying proper attention. What an idiot.
Mickey's arms – which had untwined themselves when he went over to Rose – were tied back across his chest. "Right…" he drew out.
He turned sharply to the boy, "What's wrong with her?"
"I told you, I'm not –"
"Mickey," the Doctor interjected. "I'm not asking you I'm demanding you. Tell me what's wrong with her!" He took a stride towards him, with a heavy, angry frown. Mickey looked up at him, startled and with an odd look on his face. When the Doctor realised that odd look was fear he fell back slightly, realising he'd been sterner than he meant to. "I mean… just, tell me what you know," he said gently. "Please."
"Why do you care?" Mickey's brow furred, and he tilted his head to the side, slight confusion in his voice.
"Why do I –?" He stared in shock at Mickey for a moment. "Why do I care? Why wouldn't I care?! " he exclaimed heatedly. "It's Rose!"
Mickey shrugged, "I care 'bout Rose… a lot actually. Bin with her all the time since I got here. You and her 'ave barely said anythin' to each other for days and days now…"
"And you know the reason for that," the Doctor stated, placing his hand on the control panel.
Mickey nodded. "She told me," he said smugly.
"Well, tell me!"
Mickey shook his head, grinning in amusement. "An' I thought you were smart."
"I am smart, I can figure anything out!" he insisted.
"Figure her out then," said Mickey in the same insisting voice. The Doctor turned away from him, walking slowly around the control panel, his finger brushing the levers, and his eyes set on the floor. Mickey sighed, "I guess if you cared about her –"
"Stop saying that," the Doctor interrupted. "I care more than you know."
Mickey let out a snort, "C'mon Doctor. I care, he cared… but you…" He shook his head.
"What do you mean 'he '?" the Doctor said, confused. Was there someone else in this picture he was missing?
"Old big ears," Mickey said simply.
The Doctor frowned, "What are you talking about... I am 'old big ears '. Just with a new face." He paused for thought, "And new ears actually," He added, "…and new everything else."
"Yeah well," Mickey said. "To me, for one, you're two very different people."
"We're the same person."
"Not to me."
"Who asked you anyway?"
The Doctor let out a noise that sounded like a snort. "I asked what's wrong with Rose, and you gave me bugger all in answer." He sighed and gave Mickey a meaningful look, "Please Mickey, if I know, I can start to make it better."
Mickey shuffled his feet uncomfortably for a moment. There was a moment of silence. "I promised," he finally mumbled.
"Ah," the Doctor heard himself say. Now it was staring to come together a little better. "You promised Rose you wouldn't tell me," he stated. "Then what's all this about? These… hints, trying to drive me mad with your gloating looks?"
"No," Mickey was defensive now. "I just hate seein' her mopin' all the time. You need to sort it out."
"I can if you tell me," the Doctor begged quietly.
Mickey shook his head, "Sorry, I promised. She'd kill me if she knew I was sayin' this as it is."
The Doctor shook his head, "Why would she think I don't care?" he muttered, more to himself than to Mickey. Then he turned quickly back to the boy. "I do assume she believes that too, as well as you?" he said sadly.
Mickey nodded in confirmation. He hesitated, before saying tentatively, "Half the things I've said… they came from her mouth Doctor."
The Timelord swallowed; he hadn't liked most the things Mickey had said. He hadn't liked all of it actually…
Chapter II - Awkwardness
Rose shook her head violently. "No," she said firmly.
It was a moment before the Doctor realised that, not only was she showing the first bit of emotion since he had entered the room, but that the emotion she showed was actually anger at the prospect of visiting Barcelona. Though why, he couldn't understand at all.