We're Hanging on So Take Us High

[wishiknewwho]

Title: We're Hanging on So Take Us High
Author: wishiknewwho
Rating: G
Characters: Ten II / Rose
Dislcaimer: I don't own Doctor Who and it's probably just as well that I don't because it'd be nothing but hugs and hair ruffling for the foreseeable future. Title taken from the song "On the Wing" by Owl City.
Spoilers: Post-JE
Summary: After months of living in Pete's World, Rose and the human Doctor come to a decision.
Author Notes: I suppose this fits into the genre of flangst.  Another experiment.

Thanks to salimali and nipplemuggins  for the beta and encouragement.

Rose Tyler kicked at the dimension cannon, tears of frustration filling her eyes as she cursed her ineptitude. She’d been working on it for weeks, and she’d still had no success. Sighing, she slumped down to the floor, giving into the tears and letting them streak down her face, not bothering to brush them away.

 

It was late, and she should be at home, but she couldn’t bear to go, not without at least a little success. There was something comforting about Torchwood at this time of night. The little subbasement that housed the cannon was quiet and she didn’t feel quite as awkward there as she did at her flat.

She closed her eyes, and let her head fall back against the wall. Things never seemed to work out for her, no matter how hard she tried. She couldn’t even give up and let go properly.

 

She decided to sit there for a few moments, just to give her eyes and her mind a rest, and then she would go over her notes one more time before going home. She knew that she would have to give this up eventually, but that meant thinking about things that she did not want to, like what she would do next and how she could try to put her life back together.

 

She must have nodded off, because she woke with a start to someone shaking her shoulder and a familiar voice calling her name. She looked up to see the Doctor, his eyes dark and worried under the harsh fluorescent lights. 

 

“Are you all right?” he asked, cupping her cheek in his hand and tilting her head back, trying to get a good look at her.

 

“Yeah, just fell asleep,” she whispered. He took her hands and she let him pull her up until she was standing. 

 

“You’re freezing,” he said. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms, trying to get her warm.

 

“I’m fine,” she said, gently pulling herself from him and moving to gather her things. “Let’s just go home.”

 

“Rose,” he said, the pain in his voice stopping her, forcing her eyes to meet his. “What are you doing here? Is this where you’ve been every night, when you said you were working late?”

 

She swallowed and avoided his gaze, busying herself with stacking her papers and putting them into a folder. She didn’t want to answer him, did not want to have this conversation with him. She’d hoped to have it with him only when she was finished.

 

“Answer me,” he said, his voice carrying a note of desperation as he moved closer to her. “Are you trying to get back to him?” She felt a shiver of fear rush up her spine at the anger and hurt in his voice.

 

His accusation, his lack of faith in her, hurt more than she cared to admit. She closed the folder and stuffed it in her bag, ignoring the way her hands shook violently, telling herself she was just tired and needed a decent night’s sleep.

 

“Just tell me,” he whispered, coming to stand in front of her. “If you are trying to get back to him, then I deserve to know.”

 

She kept her eyes fixed on the floor and tried to sidestep him, but he countered, not letting her pass. She dropped the folder on the desk in irritation.

 

“Is that what you think?” she asked, her voice coming out harsher than she thought it would. She moved to the other side, wanting nothing more than to put distance between them, but he wouldn’t let her. 

 

He took hold of her shoulders, and although his touch was gentle, he wouldn’t let her move. “What else could it be?” he asked, his eyes flashing with anger. “You’re obviously fixing the dimension cannon.”

 

“I’m not,” she said, jerking herself from his grip and taking several steps away. She brushed her hair from her eyes and willed herself not to cry. “I’m just not, okay?”

 

“Then what are you doing?” he asked quietly, some of the fury gone from his voice.

 

She turned toward the useless device and regarded it, tempted to kick it again. She knew he was waiting for her answer, and there was really nothing she could say but the truth. “I was trying to fix it for you,” she whispered, using everything she had to get the words out. “I wanted you to be able to travel again, and I was trying to modify it so it would let you travel through space.” She ran her fingers along the rows of buttons, embarrassed and frustrated.

 

“What?” he asked, taking a few slow steps toward her. “Why would you do that?”

 

“So that you could get away.” She glanced at him before looking away again. I know that you’re miserable, stuck here like you are. I thought that if you had a way to travel again, that you might be happy.” 

 

She moved back to the desk and slipped her coat on, ready to get out of Torchwood, away from him. She’d never hoped to have this conversation with him. She’d only wanted to fix the cannon for him, and then present him with it. He’d leave soon after, and she could try to figure out how to live without him.

 

She was putting her bag over her shoulder when his hand on her arm stilled her. “Is that what you think, Rose?” he asked. “Do you think that I’m not happy?”

 

She sighed and let her shoulders slump. “I know that you’re not,” she said. “You’re miserable here, stuck on Earth, stuck with me.” Her voice choked on the tears, but she forced herself to keep going. “I want you to be happy, and I’ve realised I’m not enough. I’m letting you go.” She let the bag slide to the floor, and then sat down with her back against the desk, drawing her knees up to her chest. She laid her head on her knees; she hated for him to see her like this.

 

It had been a long eight months since she’d returned to this universe with the Doctor. That day on the beach, he’d promised to spend his life with her, had told her he loved her; he’d said those things like they were what he wanted. But she knew now that he didn’t, and maybe he did at the time, but he certainly didn’t anymore. Maybe he didn’t know what he wanted.

 

It wasn’t like things were always bad with them; there were moments when they were happy, when he’d look at her with so much love in his eyes that she could barely breathe for the joy of it. But he was moody and angry at the world with a frequency that unnerved her. He’d have days where he’d barely talk to her, wouldn’t tell her what was going on in his head, and leaving her to believe that it was something she had done or hadn’t done. And then there were the days he’d disappear for long hours at a time, never telling her where he was going, and showing back up just as unhappy as when he left.

 

She’d lived with it for as long as she could, doing her best to be what he needed, but a month ago she’d decided that there was nothing else she could do and it wasn’t going to get better. She’d decided then to work on the dimension cannon. She knew that there was no way for him to travel between universes, to get him back to the TARDIS, but she could fix it so that he could get off Earth. Only the physics and mechanics of it were proving to be too much for her. Maybe it was better this way; perhaps he could help her.

 

“Rose,” he said gently, saying her name with such reverence as he lowered himself to the floor to sit next to her.

 

She didn’t say anything, but when he reached for her hand, loosening her fingers where they clutched her legs so that he could hold it, she let him. She was too tired to fight with him anymore.

 

He said her name again, and brushed her hair from her shoulder, away from her face, and she felt cool air hit her flushed cheeks. “Can you look at me?” he asked, rubbing soothing patterns into the back of her hand.

 

She hated this, hated feeling this way and crying in front of him. But she did as he asked and slowly lifted her head. When her eyes met his, she saw nothing but concern. His thumb came up to trace the tears on her cheeks and her breath faltered.

 

He gave her a moment to calm down before he spoke, and when he did, his words were quiet and sincere. “You make me so happy, Rose. You have no idea.”

 

“But I don’t,” she argued. “You always seem so miserable.”

 

He sighed and leaned back against the desk, her hand still clasped in his. “I know,” he said, letting his eyes fall closed for a moment. “It’s been an adjustment, living here. But not because of you. You’ve made it all worth it.”

 

She understood what he was saying. He was used to a life of travelling, never in one place for very long, and suddenly he found himself confined to a small patch of earth, a grain of sand compared to the infinity of the universe. It had been difficult for her, both the first time she found herself stranded and this second time, when she’d thought she was going back to her life among the stars.

 

When she didn’t say anything, he went on. “I’m sorry. I know that I haven’t treated you fairly in all this. And you deserve better than that. But I don’t know how. I’m trying, but there are days when I just get so lost. But if you give me time, I know that...”

 

She cut him off by pressing her lips to his in a chaste but heartfelt kiss. Her free hand threaded into his hair and his grasped her waist. When they pulled away, her eyes met his. “So you don’t want to leave me?” she asked, refusing to let herself get her hopes up, just in case she had misunderstood him.

 

“Never,” he breathed, kissing her again, short sweet kisses that made her cheeks flush in pleasure. “I never want to go anywhere without you. I meant what I said, Rose. I love you.”

 

“I love you, too,” she said, feeling a new energy surge through her and she had an idea. She pulled away from him. She got to her foot, and then took his hands and pulled him up as well. “We don’t have to do this, you know.”

 

“What do you mean?” he asked, eyeing her warily, like he was afraid that she might suggest them going their separate ways or something.

 

“I mean,” she said, grinning at him, “that we don’t have to do this. Torchwood, living a regular life. None of that.” She gestured at the room around them, worryied that she might be going a little mad, but it was the best she’d felt in months and she realised she didn’t care.

 

His eyes lit up. “We could just leave it?” he asked.

 

“We could just leave it,” she affirmed, drawing him to her for another kiss, sealing the deal and starting a new life for the two of them.

 

~o~

 

She takes his hand in hers and they walk out of Torchwood and they never look back. They were left in this world together to have a fantastic life, but no one told them what that life should be like. They decide to make it up as they go along.

 

They leave everything behind, their jobs, the flat, even the clothes at the dry cleaners. None of it matters, not anymore. 

 

They travel the world.  They live at the top of a mountain, on the edge of a beach, in a tiny flat in the middle of the city, in a cabin in the woods. They make love in a thousand different locations and every time it’s different. Every time it’s the same.

 

They return to visit her family each year on her brother’s birthday, and although her mother complains that they don’t visit often, it is enough for her and more than she ever expected.

 

There are children. A little girl comes into the world with the rising of the sun and a little boy is born two miles from the sea. They have the wind in their hair and stars in their eyes. Like their parents, they are travellers.

 

The Earth is stretched out before them all like the stars in the sky, familiar and exciting, and while they regard each place with the fondest of memories, their eyes and feet are always looking forward.

 

They realise together that home was never a blue box; home is and always will be her hand in his, the two of them running as fast as they can.