#ROSE TYLER. GIRL. LOOK LEFT AND RIGHT BEFORE CROSSING A STREET AT LEAST

[quietwingsinthesky]

of ten’s companions, if the doctor couldn’t handle losing them and crossed his own timeline to trick them into traveling with future!him instead of past!him so that he’d have a little more time with them:

rose would do it. first because bless her but she has the situational awareness of a rock, and legitimately would not realize this isn’t her doctor until his facade starts to break down and he starts bleeding grief-laced love for her at every turn. but once she does realize it, she’s both deeply sympathetic and a little scared that she could make him into this. it’s a lot to be confronted with having that much power over someone, to break them so thoroughly. rose would try to get back to her doctor, but while she’s with the future version, she tries to do what she can to ease his pain. (she also tries to figure out a way to subvert her fate. she fails.)

i think martha would be harder to trick. she can smell desperation on the doctor like a bloodhound. she is so tapped into the fact that this man wants to off himself so bad and that she’s 90% of his self-restraint, so present her with a doctor who is lacking that and she’s onto him immediately. however, assuming he gets her to come with him, explains why he’s doing this, there’s like. a minute where she’s kind of. not flattered exactly, but surprised, giddy with the realization that he’d come back for a little more time with her, especially if this is early season 3 martha. which would all come crashing down around the time that he reveals that he wasn’t pushed to this by losing her to some tragedy or her death or anything- but that she chose to leave. that is the point at which martha goes ‘oh i need to get the fuck off of this tardis right now’ and ghosts the past!doctor that she was also traveling with because holy shit, man.

donna, like rose, is easily bamboozled into following the wrong doctor home, provided that he shuffles her along into his tardis too fast for her to argue. but she catches on far quicker than rose does. like, three minutes tops of watching the doctor move through the tardis in a way that’s definitely not enthusiastic piloting and looks more like guilty panic. and then she yells at him for lying to her. and she yells at him for kidnapping her. and then she stops yelling because he’s gone sort of still and quiet and his eyes are just broken. and he doesn’t explain himself, he confesses. donna is going to try to stay with him after this btw. because how do you go back to looking your best friend in the eyes when you know he’d take everything you’ve become away from you, even to save your life? and this is still the doctor, he still did that to her, but he regrets it. regrets it so much that he can’t live with it, he’s breaking time and space just to hear her say his name again. and donna doesn’t want to lose him anymore than he wanted to lose her.

[corinthbayrpg]

NAME. Tobias Price  AGE & BIRTH DATE. 131 & February, 1889 GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male & He/Him SPECIES. Vampire OCCUPATION. Bartender FACE CLAIM. Tyler Posey

BIOGRAPHY

Tobias Price was born in Belfast, Ireland, and from the moment he was born, his existence could be considered star-crossed. His mother had been a young girl coming from a poor family in Cancún, Mexico, who had barely anything. Her parents struggled to feed their six children, and so when a young nobleman from Ireland passed through their town and asked them if they would let their oldest daughter come with him to work for him, they couldn’t quite believe their luck. The young man promised to send them money for their daughter’s services, and that she would be in good hands; that he would look after her and take care of her. And so she was sent away, following him on his travels until they found themselves back on his estate in Ireland. Tobias’ father was a nice man, but not nice enough to care as much about his mother as he should have. She was young and naive and fell for the man who had supposedly rescued her, without being aware that he never sent her family money, and that while he let her crawl into his bed during the night, he had absolutely no intentions of making any promises he gave her true. In the end, she died giving birth to Tobias, and his father held nothing but distaste for the baby that was born. He sent one of the stable boys to drop Tobias off at an orphanage, no name, nothing on him but a thin blanket, and forgot about him a day later.

And that was when Tobias’ fight to stay alive began. The orphanage was his personal hellscape. Nobody there truly cared about him, he was often forgotten in a corner, or punished for acts he didn’t commit. None of the families who stopped by to take children with them, whether to raise them or to let them work for them, were ever interested in him. And so once he was old enough, Tobias started running away. He made it his personal mission to try to flee at least once a week, but he was often picked up by rude men who would drop him back at the orphanage – not caring that he’d be punished violently for the disgrace und inconvenience he brought upon the orphanage. Only when he was sixteen did Tobias finally manage to get away for good. It was a dark and foggy November night when he fled the orphanage, and didn’t stop running until he had reached the next town. For years, Tobias lived on the street. He begged for food, and in the beginning, especially young mothers were inclined to maybe give him an apple or a piece of bread. But no one was willing to give him a proper job or money. Once he turned eighteen, he lost any bonus a young face might have given him, and instead started doing anything people would pay him for – whether he truly wanted to do it or not.

Tobias only barely got by, every year he survived was another surprise. He carried himself from town to town, his trust in humanity broken. Not only by his father and the orphanage, but also by every next person he met who showed him a kind smile and extended a generous hand, only to turn into the devil once he was willing to do anything they asked for. But what was he supposed to do? He killed, worked his muscles until his legs wouldn’t carry him anymore, or give rich men what their wives couldn’t offer them in the bedroom. Tobias never expected to last much longer, and when he was twenty-two years old, he was barely staying alive.

And that was when Jamie Price stepped into his life. To this day, Tobias isn’t entirely sure why he was lucky enough for the man to notice him in a dirty corner of the street he passed, but somehow he did. And while Tobias was suspicious of the kind offer that was extended towards him that Jamie would take care of him, he soon enough realized that there was no involuntary pain involved this time. Tobias thrived underneath the care of Jamie, he followed him like a lost puppy, and he truly would have done anything for him. He even took on the other man’s last name, as Tobias never had one for himself, and figured he might as well take the name of the one person who had ever been kind to him. Before, Tobias had never even been aware that the supernatural world existed, but one night he walked in on the sight of Jamie sinking his fangs into somebody’s neck – and partly, that was when he knew he wanted to be just like him. But in the beginning, Tobias was cautious about his wish. He wasn’t entirely sure what it entailed, and whether he was ready for it. Instead, he continued to follow Jamie around, to watch him closely, and ask more questions than a young child. In the end his decision was made in the spur of the moment.

Tobias had seen more than once what the advantages of being a vampire was. One night in the year 1916, when he was on his way home, he was attacked in a dark alleyway. He was beat until he could no longer move, leaving his attackers to believe that he was dead. It took him forever until he managed to get up and carry his beaten body home, where he stood before Jamie bloodied and broken, and with only one plea on his lips: Turn me. Afterwards, Tobias wished he would have done it sooner. As a vampire, he felt unbreakable. His confidence rose, and while his trust was still only extended to Jamie, he suddenly felt as if the world lay at his feet. He could compel people to let him do whatever he wanted, he could travel around and not be afraid of anyone hurting him the way he’d been hurt in the past. Life was, quite literally, absolutely amazing. He started traveling all over Europe, although he always returned to Jamie’s place in Glasgow – the only place he had ever felt at home in. One of Tobias’ first stops was Belfast though, where he searched for his father until he could face the man, a monster bending over him in the middle of the night. He left behind a dead body, and while it didn’t heal the wounds on his soul, it made him feel considerably better. On his travels, Tobias never hesitated to act as his very own angel of revenge, punishing people left and right who deserved it. But he also had a soft core for those in need, and so whenever he stumbled upon someone who reminded him of himself, he tried to help them out the same way Jamie had helped him.

The past year he spent in Glasgow, lounging around and enjoying his life. He hadn’t intended to leave again so soon, but when he got the news from Jamie of what was happening in Corinth Bay, he was quick to leave everything behind and come to town – both to fight by the side of the only man who had ever been family to him, and to see what the whole thing was even about.

PERSONALITY

+ adventurous, empathetic, confident - suspicious, temperamental, irresponsible

PLAYED BY LISA. GMT +1. She/Her.

[tryingthisfangirlthing]

Hmmm... I'm bad at prompts, I'm sorry! How about the Doctor/Rose (Ten or Nine) where the Doctor needs rescuing by Rose? OR Dimension-hopping Rose runs into Nine?

Rose stiffened the moment she landed, the low hum of a TARDIS piercing her mind and hope blossoming in her bones. The wolf in her started with interest, nose to the air — but no, this wasn’t her. A sibling, one from the same coral even, maybe, as it chirruped with glee at her presence, but it wasn’t the same TARDIS who had left Rose with a sliver of her heart.

Disappointment was so familiar she was nearly numb to it now, and as its tendrils snaked around her heart she felt barely any colder. Rose just shoved her hands into her pockets, brushing the dimension jumper (29 minutes, 51 seconds, 50 seconds…) turned away, and started walking.

In someone’s garden nearby a dog yapped; a cat shot out from the hedge and raced in front of her across the sleepy suburban street to disappear into the bushes on the other side. This TARDIS reached for her mind, brushed against it, tried to nudge her to the right. Wrinkling her brow, she complied, though her steps were slow. The Doctor wasn’t the only Time Lord or Lady in some universes; the Master was a particularly nasty character she’d had a few run-ins with, and then there was the Dreamer and the Inventor and the Mathematician… Who pilots you?

A familiar face flashed through her mind, big ears and chiseled cheekbones, black leather and piercing blue eyes, and she caught her breath and started to run.

Rows of neat white houses and tiny gardens soon gave way to taller towers of brick and concrete. Rose threaded her way among shoppers, wrinkling her brow as everything became more familiar-yet-not, and slowed to a stop as she recognized the edge of the Powell Estate. I shouldn’t be here.

The TARDIS nudged her again, hard, almost a shove, towards the apartment she knew as Ms. Naomi’s. Thank goodness Ms. Naomi was still doing her community service hours at the dog shelter at this time most days — if Rose’s knowledge still applied here. She wasn’t sure it did.

The door was slightly open, just a crack, and she nudged it wider with her toe, peering inside. The flat was laid out exactly like her mum’s, she was relieved to notice. At least that much was the same.

“Hello?” she called out, peering around the corners, her hand now almost automatically hovering over her small Torchwood-issue blaster. The slight presence of the TARDIS in her head had gone strangely silent.

A grunt came from the kitchen, then a crash, glass shattering and skittering across tile. Rose sprinted to the kitchen, curling her hand around the doorjamb to redirect her momentum around the corner, and reached for her sidearm.

The wolf in her recoiled immediately from the room, the telepathic equivalent of high-pitched screeching filling her senses, enough to make her ears want to bleed. Rose stumbled back a step, grimacing, reaching for the wall to steady herself. With a deep breath, then another, she pulled herself together, blotting out the piercing cacophony as best she could.

The Doctor was curled up on the floor, his hands covering his ears, bucking and writhing — she didn’t want to imagine the pain he was in, if she had been thusly affected — surrounded by a circle of… socks. Socks of every size and color, hopping in unison, with a mass of translucent, nearly transparent tentacles emerging from the end, the equally invisible eyestalks curling out and up recognizable by the shock of purple eyeballs against the tile floor. Fillangers.

Rose scowled, but the solution was easy enough — discovered by accident by Mickey on one of their first missions together. With a quick mental apology to the Davidsons downstairs, she stomped on the floor, as hard as she could, in counterpoint to their rhythm. Their dance floundered, a few of them trying to jump again in midair, and the noise began to fade.

Rose continued to stomp, with no rhyme or rhythm to it, and the small creatures scattered in confusion, skittering away to hide in whatever crevice they could find, some even squeezing their boneless bodies into the refrigerator ventilation.

“Doctor!” Rose practically fell to her knees beside him. He turned, to stare at her, surprise, gratitude, wariness flashing across his oh-so-familiar features she could still read like an open book. Blimey, she’d missed him.

The low hum of the aliens’ signals to one another flared up in her head, and she grimaced, mirroring his own features twisted in discomfort as he sat up. They didn’t have long before the little devils would reorganize. “We have to go, now.”

On instinct she reached for his hand. As her fingers curled around his, some spark jumped between them — her wolf sat up and howled — and she suddenly remembered that this Doctor probably didn’t even know her. His stare turned from shock to bewilderment — then to pain as the silent noise became louder again still. Rose stood, pulling him to his feet with her. “Run!”

They did, out of the kitchen, into the hall, down the stairs, across the paved courtyard, until her heart was pounding and she was panting — far less than she had on that first sprint with him, mind you — and she couldn’t keep a smile off her face. “Just like we used to,” nearly crossed her lips, and she bit the words back as she turned to face him, the sight of his wrinkled brow quickly sobering her.

The TARDIS whistled happily in her head, relief and pride abounding in every tone, but for now, she paid it no mind, her focus entirely on the Doctor, on his piercing blue stare. She dropped his hand — he tightened his grip, for a split second, almost reflexively, before slowly letting her fingers go.

“My ship sent you to rescue me?” His tone was hard, almost abrasive. This him she remembered, though it hurt more than it really should have, to have it directed at her.

Rose tilted her head, tossing a stray lock of hair over her shoulder and shoving her thumbs through her belt loops, suddenly aware of how far she was from that girl he rescued once, and still so close. “Seems like you needed rescuing.”

He nodded and shifted his weight to the other foot, clearing his throat. “Right. Thank you for that. Most unpleasant, that was.” Somehow he didn’t sound very grateful, and “Might die in the process, but don’t worry about me,” echoed in her head.

She swallowed heavily. “You’re welcome.” Rose emphasized the words.

His gaze turned wary again. “Who are you? You’re not one of those bloody Time Agents, are you, mucking up the timelines?”

“Not exactly.” She suddenly wanted to laugh, wanted to cry — not the first time her feelings had flooded over her on meeting a parallel doctor. A calming breath, an inner debate flickering high in her over what to tell him, and what not to. For a moment, she contemplated revealing it all, the stars going out, how the universe needed him — because he was still somehow the Doctor, wasn’t he? He could still help and she’d been searching for so long, and if finding not-her-Doctor did this to her, what would finding her Doctor do, what would finding her Doctor do to her if she had to let him go yet again?

But the wolf in her whispered no, it must be her Doctor, and she wouldn’t have to ever let him go again — and if Rose believed in anything, it was in her Doctor. So she settled on telling this Doctor the most important thing.

She offered him a smile, her Doctor’s smile, because she couldn’t resist giving him that much. He blinked, drawing in a breath, an answering smile spreading across his face, without his intention, she suspected, and it made her grin harder. “My name’s Rose.”

Then she caught sight of someone over his shoulder and stilled, for one heartbeat, two, choking on her words, ice rushing along her nerves as her own face stared back at her, eyes wide.

He began to turn as well, shock and alarm crossing his expression as he saw this universe’s Rose Tyler. Rose swallowed, tilting her head towards her counterpart. “Now forget me, Doctor.”

She didn’t stay to watch him look between the pair of them, didn’t stay to watch her start running after herself, then stop, staring at the Doctor instead, didn’t stay to watch him start after her himself, then turn to other her and ask her, in his usual brusque way, what her name was.

Rose just shoved her hands into her pockets, brushing the dimension jumper (19 minutes, 51 seconds, 50 seconds…), turned away, and started walking.

You get both! :DAnd thank you very much for the prompts! I’m sorry this is so late. Life has hated me but I finally finished this.Credit goes to @chiaroscuroverse for suggesting lost socks being homes for the alien threat instead of the threat themselves as was my original idea. Thank you for that, though I don’t know if you even remember that conversation anymore. XD

[gay-fiction]

All That We Have Feared So Much

In the third chapter of “Into Better Days”, the focus lies on young Tyler and his search for answers to pressing questions. Unfortunately, great joy is usually followed by great torment...

Trigger warning for this chapter: violence, homophobic speech

Cold water embraced his smooth and slender body. He took a deep breath, pushing himself forward from the pool edge. Like an arrow shot from a strong bow, his body plowed through the water. As he arrived at the other end of the pool, his head broke through the surface, lips opened in a gasp for air.

“Thirty-two seconds!”, the man standing at the brim of the pool announced. “You’re getting better every day.”

Tyler smiled up at his coach. He loved swimming. This weightless feeling, the freedom it implied, the smoothness of the water against his skin. Getting into the pool and testing how he could lower the resistance of the water, just closing his eyes being engulfed by the water, it made him forget everything bad that might happen outside of the pool. It was his own personal way to escape.

With much less strong strokes, Tyler made his way towards the ladder and climbed out of the school’s pool. His coach had an encouraging pat on the back for him. “Keep it up, Tyler. I know we’re expecting a lot from you, but if your time keeps improving, you’d be Olympic competitive soon.”

Upon the proud smile he got, Tyler beamed. His chest was swollen with pride, something he only felt when he was at training; even though his muscles hurt for days to come after each of these straining training session. “I won’t let you down, coach”, he promised, pulling the swimming cap and goggles off his head.

After a quick shower to get the chlorine off his skin, Tyler hurried to get dressed and left the building. He walked over towards the bike racks, kneeling down to open the numbers lock that made sure that his bike was not stolen – a way too common occurrence not only on the schoolyard but all over the city.

While he was busy with his lock, pulling the chain through the spokes, Tyler heard voices, one of them quite familiar. Looking up, he scanned his surroundings. Usually, no one was around the school at this time of the day anymore. Any “normal” student wanted to get away from this place as fast as they could and since he got extra, one-on-one practice, usually all participating in the other sports and clubs went home before Tyler as well.

Over at the parking lot, he eventually spotted two people discussing something he could not hear. One of them was clearly Mark, apparently still getting accustomed to his new ‘style’. He was in the company of someone Tyler only knew in passing. It was one of the richer kids for sure, the Supreme-logo prominent on the almost blinding white shirt, which formed a stark contrast to Mark’s by now almost entirely black attire. If he wasn’t mistaken, the guy was in their year even.

Before the scene in front of his eyes could capture him even more, the other boys got into a car – one that looked way more expensive and a lot better kept than either Jimmy’ or Thomas’s – and drove away. For a moment, Tyler followed the speeding car with his eyes before he got up and swung a leg over his bike. As he rode down the empty streets, he had already forgotten what he had witnessed.

Late summer ran out quickly. It was most evident by the weather changing. A cold wind blew through the suburban streets. While the leaves turned golden and coated the pavements, there were more and more days of rain. At one point, Tyler started to wonder when he would be able to actually swim home... It wouldn’t take long anymore and the rain would turn into snow. For now, the temperatures stayed low, but not too low.

And Halloween was near! All Hallow’s Eve fell on a Monday, so St. Helmsley High School decided to schedule the day as a day off; much to the enjoyment of the student body. Otherwise, many students would have skipped anyway. That way, the group of seven had a whole extended weekend for Jimmy’ Halloween plans that consisted solely of watching horror movies and eating pizza.

Monday night was, as planned, the ‘main day’ with only the most gruesome movies the older Renfrew could find on his own shelf, hard drive, and the internet. The days prior, they had spent most of the time catching up on all the ‘Halloween’, ‘Friday 13th’ and ‘Nightmare On Elm Street’ classics. Marty had even found some old VHS tapes and their dad had organized a player for them to watch old black/white versions of ‘Dracula’, the ‘Wolfman’ and others.

But for Halloween itself, it was a wild selection and cross between torture porn, modern classics, and horribly bad b-movies. It was quite a treat as they all sat in the small garage, pizza and snacks all over the place, watching the flickering screen through a cloud of smoke from the joints Thomas, Lee, and Jimmy shared.

The credits of “It Follows” were still rolling over the small TV as Marty got up. “First break”, he announced. Grabbing his package of cigarettes, the young man hurried out of the side door. It wasn’t raining, thankfully, and through the trees in the Renfrew front yard, they could see lights and shadows pass by. Their father was on candy-distributing duty tonight.

As they had done over the past few days as well, the group climbed up the ladder to the garage’s roof. There, Mr. Renfrew had placed some beer crates for the boys to sit on. Empty ones, sadly, as Jimmy and Lee noticed. The Scot was used to being allowed to have a drink or two as the legal age was much lower in Europe and he, quite frankly, missed it, the taste of beer, the light feeling a good jag. At least a bit.

It didn’t take long for Jimmy and Mark to retreat back inside again. One could watch Jack O’ Lanterns and Trick or Treaters only for so long until the cold became a nuisance. Lee and Thomas followed soon, rather inclined to smoke inside than in the freezing cold. After he was done with his cigarette, Marty went back down as well, leaving only Trent and Tyler behind.

It had become kind of a tradition by now. For the past nights, whenever they took a break from their movie marathon, the two had stayed behind. Neither was very fond of the horror genre, thus using the time apart from the others for a one-on-one.

“Are you okay?”, Trent had asked on the first night. It had become his thing, in a way, to check up on Tyler’ wellbeing regularly.

“I’m fine”, the younger one had answered with a smile. “After all, there’s no school. No, seriously, no one is bothering me lately. No insults scribbled onto my locker, no pushing around. Seems like they got tired of the same old.”

Today, silence wrapped around them much like Tyler had wrapped his arms around himself, knees pulled up as he watched the lanterns’ lights through the trees.

“Can I ask you something?”, Trent asked. As he spoke, little puffs of air formed in front of his face. Tyler looked at him curiously. Why did he ask? It hadn’t been an issue for him the nights prior.

“Sure”, he thus confirmed. “Shoot.”

“I wanted to ask this for some time now... ahem...” Trent had started but interrupted himself again. He had his long legs extended, hands buried deep in his coat’s pockets.

“Yeah?”

The brawny boy let out a long sigh before continuing. “About these... rumors. You know... you being gay and all...” He had lowered his head, refusing to actually look at Tyler. The younger one didn’t know what to make off of that. “Are they... you know...?” It was very obvious that the usually so silent young man had problems uttering the question that, apparently, had been on his mind for quite some time. With another sigh, he gathered his courage and finally looked at Tyler, meeting his eyes. “Are they true?”

Ty cocked his head. He was honestly surprised that it had taken any of them so long to actually ask. Even very direct Thomas hadn’t bothered to get an answer from him yet. Now, Trent had spoken out and asked the dreaded question.

The problem was that Tyler didn’t have an answer.

“I don’t know, actually. I mean, I never had a girlfriend and I am not really interested in girls that way... but not in boys either.” He held eye contact with Trent, unable to read the thoughts of the older one. “I mean, I have thought about it ever since they started spreading these things about me, for sure. There must be a reason why people assume it, right? I must have something on me that makes them think I’m gay. Is there some or any truth to it? But I just couldn’t tell, still can’t.”

Tyler sighed. In fact, since he had found himself questioning his own sexuality involuntarily due to these rumors, he more and more warmed up to the idea of potentially being asexual. At least when it came to his peers, male and female. Porn still had the expected effect on him though, even though he could not pinpoint at what it was that made him become horny. It was highly confusing, to say the least.

That was, however, nothing he felt comfortable sharing. It was stressful to think of yourself as anything out of the norm already, but not even knowing if you were ‘not normal’ was even more so. There was something about Trent, however, that put him a lot more at ease. At least he could finally formulate the thoughts to someone else than himself.

“Maybe they are right, maybe they are wrong. Maybe I’m straight and just haven’t had the chance to stick anything anywhere in a girl yet. Maybe I’m gay and just don’t know it because I never actually even kissed a guy. And maybe I am not interested in anyone in that way at all. I don’t know it yet but it would be a lot easier to find out if people would not just assume I am one or the other and let me find out on my own.”

Sighing, he clutched his jacket, looking at Trent. “Ah, I don’t mean you guys, of course. You know which people I mean.”

Trent knew. For a moment longer he held eye contact with the younger boy, then he slowly rose his gaze towards the dark sky.

“It doesn’t matter anyway”, he attested after a while. “So whatever it might be, you know that none of us would have a problem with whatever you want to identify as.”

The nonchalant way Trent said this made Tyler smile. For him – and Tyler was convinced that it wasn’t different for Jimmy and the others – Tyler’ sexuality didn’t play a role. They had all been thrown into this to gain from the situation, from the strengths of the others. What Tyler had surely gained, however, were new friends.

Friends that accepted him however he was, even though he didn’t even know himself what that might be.

“Hey! Will you ever get down from there again?”

A voice from down below called their attention. Tyler had caught himself endearingly looking at Trent. Now, he shook his head, got up from his crate, and walked over to the edge of the roof. Marty stood at the bottom of the ladder, hands formed into a funnel as he called up towards his friends.

“You gotta be freezing. Come on down, we have some more pizza ready.”

Actually, Tyler felt rather warm, even though that feeling seemed to be coming from inside. One after the other, they nonetheless climbed down the ladder to join their friends in the warmth of the garage again.

In the early morning hours, the friends parted ways with the plans of sleeping through the whole day ahead. As always, Trent and Tyler covered most of the way together. At their usual junction, the younger man hesitated. The cold and windy weather had resulted in a thick mist to well up, diffusing the light of the few street lamps ahead, making them look like they were far more apart than they actually were.

Furrowing his brow, Tyler let his eyes wander along the road he had to take, but they didn’t go far. “Bye for now, I guess”, he muttered, looking back at Trent who was eyeing the street as well.

“I’ll bring you home”, the tall boy decided.

“No need. It’s not that far. What could happen...”

Maybe they should have ended the night on a slasher or body horror flick though, not on something as actually spooky as The Witch. Immediately, Tyler mind wandered to ominous figures lurking in the mist, just waiting to attack him. A maniac or undead serial killer somehow did not put as much fright in him as something sinister and spiritual.

“I’ll come”, Trent insisted.

“You really don’t have to. Come on, I will find home alone, won’t I?”

“Then go. You can’t stop me from coming with you though, so better accept it.” With his arms akimbo, Trent made it very clear that any further protest would be in vain. And if Tyler was entirely honest with himself, he was more than relieved that his stronger, broader friend would tag along.

“I give up”, he muttered defeated and lightly punched his friend in the side; a playful jest.

It was indeed calming to have the strong and controlled young man at his side. Tyler looked around at the millions of shadows that could appear threatening to him all alone in such a misty, cold, Halloween night. Or early morning. Reassuringly, he walked closer to his friend. No, with Trent, he didn’t have to fear anything – neither bullies nor mean-spirited and possessed goats or wise women.

Even at the driveway, Trent didn’t stay back. As Tyler turned around to him to say goodbye, he only nodded towards the front door. With a huff, the young swimmer covered the last few steps.

“Can I say bye now?”, he asked teasingly before a yawn broke its way through his features.

“You may”, Trent allowed with a smile.

“Well, good-bye then.” Rubbing a sleepy tear away from his eyes, Tyler returned the other’s smile. “And thank you. I appreciate- oh!”

Craning his neck, the smaller boy looked around his friend. Half-expecting a joke or prank, Trent turned his head to look over his shoulder as well. The younger one’s intentions had been pure though, as Trent noticed. Soft, white flakes slowly gliding down from the sky.

“It’s snowing!”, Ty stated the obvious. His eyes beamed and his voice sounded pious and excited alike. “I love snow.” For a moment, they just stood there, watching as delicate white powder rained from the sky, illuminated by the dim twilight of a far away street lamp.

As peaceful as the scene was, Trent was craving to get into his bed. “Well then”, he started but didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence.

“Wait here! You can’t walk home like this!”

Confused, the older boy watched as Tyler fidgeted his keys out of his pocket, opened the front door, and disappeared inside. The door remained ajar, letting a thin strip of light and a warm glow escape into the cold night.

Only moments later, Tyler returned with an umbrella. “I don’t want you to get wet just because you helped me get home.” With the brightest, yet tired smile, Ty attempted to open the umbrella. He was facing some difficulties.

Suddenly, the item sprung open. Ty let out a small yelp. One of the metal caps of the outer edge scraped his forehead. Trent, however, simply leaned out of the way as the umbrella opened.

“Ha, well, at least it’s open now!” With a laugh, Ty handed the umbrella to his friend. Trent, however, just gave him a long, unreadable look. He took the umbrella, holding it in his left hand while he rose the right one to gently run a finger over the slight cut on Ty’s forehead.

His heart pounded like crazy. At a moment’s notice, all fatigue was gone, forgotten. Instead, Tyler’ heart decided to play drums wilder than Thomas ever physically could.

Before he knew it, Ty felt a soft peck on his lips. His eyes widened in initial shock and surprise, his heart throbbed painfully in his throat. The boy, so strong and tall, who had helped him out so much over the past two months, who made him feel safe, who he admittedly liked a lot...

It was over faster than Tyler could formulate any other thought. All that was left was a face that smiled down on him – dirty-blond hair, the hint of a beard on his chin, calm dark eyes – and a weirdly cold feeling on his own lips while his cheeks felt like burning.

Trent turned his back towards his younger friend and went down the few steps from the Bates’ porch. He walked down the short path towards the street and went on his way along the pavement.

The swimmer was stunned, watching his friend leave. What was it that he felt? Shock? Surprise? Did he like it? Did he not? Questions he had enough. Answers? Hardly any. He simply didn’t know. All he did know was that his new best friend had given him a quick kiss goodbye.

And that he didn’t feel disgusted. Or repulsed.

And that he needed clarity.

Within a heartbeat, Tyler jumped down the stairs of the porch and hurried after Trent.

“Wait! Trent, wait!”

The tall boy turned around when Tyler reached him. The younger one had grabbed his arm, holding on to Trent’s sleeve as he looked up at him wide-eyed. Upon the questioning look that Trent gave him, though, Tyler faltered. Why did he hold him back? Shyly, he let go of the other’s sleeve.

“Are... are you...?”

The question lingered between them and the snow that softly fell around them. Trent shrugged.

“I don’t know.”

How could he stay so calm? It was almost as if there were no questions on his mind, so very different to Tyler’ one that was cooking up a storm at this very moment. If only the young man knew that his peer was equally uncertain what to make of all of this and that he was just not showing it on the outside. Actually, he even felt a tad of guilt for doing what he had impulsively done, especially after that talk they had had on the Renfrew brothers’ garage roof.

What neither of them was, however, was afraid. Maybe it meant they were gay, bi or whatever else label people would slap onto them and people like them. For Tyler, it would be an improvement even. He already got shit for a sexuality he himself wasn’t even sure about, and then he would at least have clarity.

Stepping closer, Tyler pushed himself up on his tiptoes. Yet, he still had to seize the taller one by his coat’s collar to pull him down a bit. Again, their lips met, but this time for longer. With his eyes closed, the young man welcomed the feeling that swept over him, and when he felt Trent’s free hand gently holding against the back of his head, he didn’t feel cold even though he had left his jacket behind in the hallway of his home.

Time passed slowly. Around the two boys, the first November snow fell silently, dispersing the mist and forming a small blanket on the umbrella top.

Slowly, Tyler sunk down on his soles again, breaking the kiss after Trent followed him only a short span of the way down. His hand was still in Ty’s hair as he looked down at the young man with a soft smile.

“I see you on Wednesday?”

Tyler only nodded.

“Sleep well.”

“You... You too”, the young man answered before, slowly, with very deliberate steps, retreating towards the house, up the path and stairs, to the door. There, he paused, turning his head. Standing in the dark, he could still see Trent’s silhouette with the umbrella. Then, he closed the door behind himself.

As if he was in trance, Tyler went up the stairs to his room, leaving his shoes behind next to his jacket. He made it to the en-suite bathroom, not even recognizing the smiley boy that looked back at him from the mirror as he brushed his teeth. Moments later, he lay in bed, raising his hand to his lips.

Maybe he was gay. Maybe it was just Trent. And maybe it didn’t matter at all.

Sleep found him soon, covering him like a cozy blanket. That night, Tyler didn’t have a single worry in the world.

The following days were a tad weird for Trent and Tyler. Not that anything that happened that night – from the conversation on the roof to the kiss under the umbrella – made them feel uncomfortable. Quite the contrary. Yet, they did not find any time to actually talk or spend time alone. Every time, someone else was around.

At school and when they were hanging out, Jimmy, Marty, and the others were always around. While both young men did not feel uncomfortable with whatever it was that developed between them, they still – unspoken and yet agreeing – did not feel that it was a good idea to share this fragile and precious thing with the other boys. Thus, they behaved as if nothing had happened, dreading that they once more did not have any privacy.

Their individual homes also did not provide any ground for a much-needed talk. At Ty’s, they were in constant danger of the boy’s mother busting into the room. His parents had been skeptical about this new friend group of their son anyway, and he felt that it was still to soon to confront them with anything like this.

Trent’s mother was the opposite of that, distant and generally non-caring. However, his siblings were the bigger problem, also busting into his room without knocking or needing attention and care from him anyway. For Trent, there was hardly any privacy in his own home and he could certainly not lock Tyler and himself in the bathroom.

All this started to frustrate both young men. Touches were very limited and hugs let alone kisses completely unimaginable.

Yet, there was something that concerned the whole group, hovering over them like a dark cloud. It was Mark. Ever since Halloween, the smart boy had made himself scarce. Instead of being with his friends, he opted for hanging out with other people – among them a growing amount of girls. At first, Lee and Thomas had commented on this with a laugh and lots of friendly teasing, but being stood up by your friend time and time again just because of his new-found popularity with the other gender? No, that the teenage boys could, even though they partially understood, not accept.

When Mark started ditching them on already agreed upon studying sessions, even usually so calm and laid-back Marty started to get really pissed off.

One cold day, the group was standing outside the main building of the high school, debating plans for the upcoming weekend. Marty had actually managed to get the band a gig at a local bar, which restricted their plans to anything that could be done in their practice space in the Renfrew garage. Trent was using this opportunity and his newly found bravery to speak up among their group of friends to initiate another study session. For that, however, they needed Mark.

While the others debated these plans, Tyler looked around. Mark was in their year, so he had to leave school more or less at the same time as them. And actually, he spotted the formerly bespeckled boy as he left the school and went down the stairs. He wasn’t alone, however, but in the company of the boy Ty had already seen him with; something that he remembered only now. He followed the very strange pair with his eyes, yet Mark showed no signs of planning to come over to them. He didn’t even look in their direction.

Thus, Ty decided to take matters in his own hands.

“Hey Mark”, he greeted his friend as he walked over to them. The unfamiliar young man gave Ty an annoyed look. Nonetheless, Ty turned towards him. “Hey. Have we met? I’m Tyler.”

Smugly, the boy looked at the swimmer, then rolled his eyes without feeling the need to introduce himself. “C’mon, Mark. Let’s go.”

Tyler swallowed any reply to that and instead looked at his friend. “We... actually thought we can have a study session this weekend. You in? You know we can’t do that without our mastermind.”

While Mark had been inclined to follow his new acquaintance, the pleading tone and big brown eyes of his friend held him back. He was noticeably conflicted, looking back from Tyler to the still nameless boy, and back to Ty.

In the end, the huge eyes of their youngest one won him over. “I... I see you later, okay?”, he asked, turning to the other young man. In turn, he got a very sour look.

“Are you serious? We had plans. Fuck, fine, whatever!”

Without even another look for Tyler, the guy glared at Mark and turned away. If only the other two could catch a glimpse of his thoughts. They would have found disdain, annoyance, and a very strong urge for revenge.

“He sounded mad now”, Tyler stated, watching the blonde boy leave. “A very nice guy for sure.”

The very blatant sarcasm in Tyler’ voice remained uncommented. Mark’s shoulders sagged down as he watched the other boy walk away, a pit in his stomach.

“How do you even know him?”, Tyler inquired, but Mark waved his question off.

“It doesn’t matter. So… studying, hm?”

The younger one nodded. “You better ask Marty about that though, I have to go to training now. Just hit me up with a time later, kay?”

“Okay”, the boy with the glasses confirmed before Tyler bolted away to get his bag and head to the swimming hall. Mark had followed him and the remaining group had decided to meet up at Jimmy and Marty’s “just ‘cause” later, and to decide on the plans for the following weekend.

Training went quite well. Tyler hadn’t been able to beat his best time again, but he grew more and more confident in his own abilities. His coach had prophesied that, if he continued like that, it would be no problem to get a scholarship at a university where he could further hone his skill and that would get him on the right way towards Olympia.

Thus, when Tyler left the building, he was enthusiastic and hopeful, albeit exhausted. He pondered whether he could stop by at the Renfrew’s still before he should get home. Halloween’s snow had vanished the very same night already, but it remained cold, dark, and gray.

Not far from the bike stands, two men were huddled underneath an awning, watching the young athlete. “That’s him”, the blonde one whispered with disdain in his voice. He pointed in Tyler’ direction and the other man nodded. “You know what to do?” Again a nod before the man buried his hands deep into his bomber jacket’s pockets and trudged away towards the parking lot.

The blonde one stayed behind, his gaze wandering from the passing man to Tyler who had now mounted his bike. That little faggot had a way too big influence on Mark, which made him a threat. A threat to his cunning and well-thought-out plan. He would have been taken care of at a later point in time anyway, but for his grand scheme to work, it seemed like measures had to be taken a little earlier.

Unaware of the eyes that had been on him, Tyler mounted his bike and made his way home along the almost empty streets. The wind was twirling leaves, plastic bags, and other kinds of trash across the streets and over the pavements. It was the weird time between Halloween and Thanksgiving, where the weather became wet and unfriendly and no one felt the need to be outside to be exposed to the ghastly conditions.

Ty had no choice. As always, he had taken his bike to school and if he didn’t want to leave it there, he had to take it back. Riding free-handedly, he rubbed his hands together and breathed into his hollow palms to warm them up at least a bit. A few strands of wet hair had wiggled their way out from under his beanie. He better hurried home first, changing into something warmer and rubbing his hair dry, before he went over to the Renfrew's’ to see the guys – and especially Trent.

A little shortcut through the park should help him to get to his goal quicker. It was just as empty as the streets, not even people with dogs finding the will to get out today and walk their four-legged companions. It was when he heard the sounds of a motor behind him that Tyler grabbed the handle of his bike again and came to a halt, one leg down on the ground, the other still on the paddle. Confused, he looked around. Who on earth drove their car through a park, especially at such high speed?

The van that approached him from behind didn’t show any sign on slowing down. Was it a forester of some kind, someone official from the city council that took the chance of a supposedly empty park to check up on any… fallen trees or roads that needed patching up? Whoever and whatever it was, Ty did not intend to get run over by them, so he waited near the pathway in the grass.

Instead of speeding by, however, the van came to an abrupt halt next to him. The brakes squealed and the window of the passenger side was rolled down. An elbow in a shiny material jacket arm appeared, followed by the unshaven face of a young man. This certainly was no park ranger.

“Tyler Bate?”, the man asked.

Tyler scrunched his nose. They knew his name. Why? And what did they want from him? Was there even any use in denying that he was who he was?

Slowly, clutching to the handle of his bike, the young man nodded.

Without a further word, the door was pulled open. A slamming sound at the back of the van indicated that the back doors were opened as well, which meant that there were even more people inside than the man that had talked to him and the driver. Not good, oh, this wasn’t good.

Tyler’ instinct kicked in. This was a situation he did not want to be in! So, he ran! On the wet and soft ground; soaked soil, slippery grass; we would never get away with his bike, so he left it behind.

He was a swimmer, not a runner. Yet, usually, Tyler was quite fast. After a day of school and two hours of training, however, his legs felt weak and wonky and threatened to give in under him as he ran across the grass, down another pathway. A couple of times, he nearly slipped, leaving his gym bag behind as he bolted across the park.

It was no use.

Something hid him hard over the head and Tyler fell. “It’s nothing personal, kid”, he heard above him before a hard kick in the side made him roll over to his back. Over him towered five men, all older than him, and all mean looking. “Nothing personal”, the guy who had spoken to him before repeated before he kicked Tyler in the stomach.

All air escaped his lungs as the young man curled up into a ball, wrapping his arms around his midsection as if it was any way to ease the pain. Soon, this pain would pale in comparison what was about to come. Two strong hands seized his shoulders, pulling him up on weak legs. Still hunched over, Tyler rose his head.

“Why?”, he wanted to ask, wanted to initiate more precise questions, but he never got out a single sound. He received a hard punch in the face which made him topple back against the grip that held him upright. A throbbing pain spread across the swimmer’s face, originating from where the fist had connected with his jaw. Instantly, the taste of blood filled his mouth. It trickled down from his lip while he was dragged across the grass back towards the van.

There, he was pushed up with his back against a tree, one man at either side of him that fixated his arms. Not to keep him from running away. In his state, that was nothing Tyler could pull off anymore. But the harsh grips kept him upright and in place, pinned against the tree.

What followed was a beating that made the boy forget his initial question. Pain took over his pondering mind. It didn’t play a role anymore why this was happening. All he wanted was for it to stop. In between punches against his stomach, face, and an uncalled for kick in the crotch, the young man didn’t even find the strength to cry out anymore.

By the time the torment stopped, it was hard to tell whether it was tears or blood that ran down his face. The skin over his brows had cracked, a sensitive spot that was known for bleeding a lot more than anywhere else on the human body. One eye was already starting to swell shut. Gasping for air to get at least some back into his lungs, Tyler fell forward. They had let go and there was nothing that stopped his fall.

A coughing fit made him roll to the side and spit blood onto the grass. A pair of cheap sneakers shoved into his view. The man towering over him rubbed his knuckles and wiped Tyler’ blood off of them.

“It’s getting cold”, the guy complained and what he said next made Ty’s blood run cold. “Let’s get this over with.”

Again he was seized by the shoulders. The pain caused by him once more being dragged across the grass hardly seeped into Tyler’ mind though. His whole body consisted merely of pain and lightning bolts flickered before his eyes.

Should he plead? Was there any use in doing this now? Would he even get out any words, in his state?

All Tyler could resort to was sobbing, holding on to the last pieces of consciousness. The men noticed as well that he was threatening to slip away. “Hey!”, one of the guys that dragged him complained, pulling him up to his feet. “Stay with us, faggot!” A slap across the face made Tyler’ ears ring. But it served the intended purpose and he blinked back into reality.

A hand on his chin tilted Tyler’ head up and he was met with a hard gaze. There really wasn’t anything personal about this, the young man realized – and the thought was accompanied by terror. His opposite’s eyes were cold. There was no sign of mercy, remorse, or even any kind of attachment. He looked like he was merely doing his “job”. But… without emotion… would these guys know where and when to stop?

What were they capable of doing to him?

There was as much use to shield himself from these thoughts as it was to protect himself from the blows; it was futile. His mind went everywhere at once. Would they break something; his legs, an arm, his nose? Would they kidnap him, taking him lord-knows-where to go on with the torment in a more private setting? Would they take advantage of his rumored sexuality…?

A helpless whimper escaped Tyler’ lips which earned him an almost disgusted look. “What a pussy”, the guy snarled, letting go of Tyler’ jaw so his head sunk back down on his chest. “Let’s end this and leave. This is starting to bother me.”

They dragged him over towards the street and pushed him down again. It felt like someone was sitting on his back as Tyler’ head was turned to the side, resting on the curb while the rest of his body lay in the damp grass. Fear took over the young man. “They’re going to kill me!”, an alarming thought rang in his head. A last wave of strength, fueled by the naked fear for his life, washed through the maltreated body. With his hands and knees pressed against the ground, he tried to struggle, to get up, but it was no use.

“Please… please no!”, he pleaded through clenched teeth. Someone stepped on his hand and the nasty feeling of something breaking in his fingers cut off his pleas. Instead, Tyler howled out and with the sound, the strength left his body again. All he could do was lie there, eyes closed shut, his face distorted in pain and fearful anticipation of even more torment, and wait.

“Don’t worry, fag”, the man from before said high above him. “We’re not going to kill you. We’ll just… take you out for some time.”

His head was pulled up until he felt a burning hot pain in his neck. The last words he heard before his face was slammed into the hard ground and sweet and relieving darkness engulfed him sounded almost mocking.

“Nothing personal, kid.”

[perfectlyrose]

Burning Gold (4/?)

Summary: Rose felt trapped in her life in a port town and longed to be on the open sea. She takes the chance of a lifetime and sets out on her own. Life at sea holds many surprises for her: piracy, friendships, and maybe even love. (Nine/Rose Pirate AU) Rating: All Ages // Word Count: 2311 AN: thanks to AMAZING @asthewheelwills for inspiring much of the interlude with the Doctor and also for being so super supportive. Also on: Tumblr // AO3 // TSP // FF 

Chapter 4: Beginnings: In which Rose embarks on a new adventure and we check back in with the Doctor.

Amy laughed when Rose excused herself from drinking with her to go change into a dress and work the tavern with Clara.

“You would recommend the tavern you work at,” the ginger teased.

“Wasn’t a biased recommendation though, now was it?” Rose shot back, already feeling more comfortable with the other woman, at least in this environment where they were still mostly on equal footing. Things would be different once Rose was on the ship as a crew member, she was sure.

“Maybe a bit, but it was still an excellent one.”

Rose grinned at the redhead and then headed upstairs to change, stopping for just a moment to talk to Clara in the kitchen and fill her in on what had happened. Then she was out serving drinks and smiles.

Amy watched from the corner, amusement curling the corners of her mouth as she watched her newest crewmember work the room. That’s how Mels, her first mate,  found her when she plopped down on the chair next to Amy’s.

“Took forever to find you. Why are you here instead of at The Ship Arms?” she said, crossing her legs and leaning back against the chair in a deceptive, affected sprawl.

“There was an incident. Figured it was a good idea to find a new haunt.”

“An incident,” Mels parroted with an incredulous smile, white teeth flashing against her dark skin. “Did you stab someone or something? Because usually it’s my job to get in trouble on shore leave. I can’t believe you started without me.”

“I didn’t start it,” Amy protested, turning to face her best friend. “I may have threatened to intervene after someone else started something.”

Mels shook her head with a laugh. “Just like you, Ames.”

Amy’s eyes shifted back to Rose as she settled a fight before it really got started, not even needing to raise her voice in the process.

“Got your eye on someone?” the other woman teased, nudging Amy with her elbow as she followed her gaze..

“Hired a new member of the crew,” the captain answered, ignoring the suggestive tint to Mels’s words.

“Just like that? Thought we were going to start looking tomorrow.”

“She made an impression,” Amy said with a laugh, nodding towards Rose.

“You hired the barmaid?”

“Met her at The Ships Arm. She’s the one who started the incident. Some bloke got a bit handsy with her and she slammed him against a wall and had a knife to his throat before I even thought about drawing a weapon.” She chuckled. “It was impressive.”

“And she agreed to join the crew, just like that?”

“She was apparently there to find me and petition for a spot.”

“Interesting,” Mels said, gaze sharpening on Rose as she walked back to the bar. “What’s her name?”

“Rose Tyler.”

Mels swiped Amy’s drink and held it up in a mock toast. “Welcome to The Red Lady, Rose Tyler,” she said, only loud enough for Amy to hear.

She downed the rest of the ale over Amy’s protest and then swaggered up to the bar to get two more.

Before she and Mels left the pub for the night, Amy gave Rose instructions to be at The Red Lady the next afternoon to get situated and start learning the ship.

Rose was still practically vibrating with excitement as she and Clara closed up the tavern for the night.

“And you’re sure about this, Rose?” Clara asked, one last time as Rose lingered in the doorway, ready to leave for the night.

“More sure than I’ve been about anything, Clara.”

Clara pulled her in for a hug, lingering in it. “Just stay safe, okay? I don’t want to write your mother about something happening to you.”

“I’ll do my best, promise.” Rose said.

“And you best come back in here next time you’re in port,” Clara said, pulling back from the hug and giving Rose a faux stern look.

“Of course! You’ll be my first stop.”

“Good. Now get going, you need a good night’s sleep before your first day as a pirate.”

Rose gave her another quick hug and then was out the door, heading back to the docks for one last night aboard the ship that had been her home for a short time.

Despite Clara’s advice, Rose got hardly any sleep. After waking up for the third time while it was still dark outside, she figured it was useless to try and stay in bed. Instead, Rose started cleaning the ship from bow to stern, erasing all signs of her time aboard and leaving her ready for whatever intrepid adventurer might wander onto her deck next.

Once she was finished cleaning, Rose checked her bag, ensuring it was completely packed and ready and then laid down for a quick nap before she had to be at The Red Lady. She woke up a bit before noon with none of her usual morning lethargy.

She wasted no time in heading towards the large ship docked on the other side of the docks after making sure everything on her little ship was battened down properly. She would miss being her own master and going wherever she wanted but the siren song of a new adventure ahead dulled that particular ache.

Rose’s heart started pounding as she approached The Red Lady. Mels was lounging in a chair next to the gangplank, fiddling with a dagger.

The sound of Rose clearing her throat made her look up. “Rose, right?”

“That’s me.”

“Go on up. Amy should be on deck somewhere and will tell you what you need to do.”

Rose bit down on her bottom lip as she walked up the ramp, trying to keep from grinning like a fool. This was really happening.

Once on deck, she looked around for a flash of red hair, already feeling a bit lost. The Red Lady wasn’t the biggest ship around by any means but she was bigger than any Rose had ever stepped foot on before.

“Ah, Rose! You’re here earlier than I thought you would be.”

Rose turned at the already familiar voice of her captain and watched as she came up from belowdecks, every movement graceful in a way that she envied.

“Was at loose ends this morning and was a bit excited to get here,” Rose admitted, readjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

“Well, I like the excitement. Let me show you to the crew quarters and then I’ll grab someone to give you a tour and get you started learning the ropes.” She flashed a blinding smile at her. “And I do mean that literally.”

Rose giggled and Amy preened.

“I like you. Everyone else groans at that joke. Come along, now.”

Amy led her down belowdecks and into a fairly large room outfitted with hammocks.

“Home sweet home, for you,” she said. “This is the second of two girls rooms. The other is the next room down. The boys are a few rooms aft. Only me and Mels have private quarters. If I heard correctly, the girls left you the hammock by the door since you’re the newbie.”

“Fine by me.”

“Good. Most of the crew is still on shore leave but I think Sally is around here somewhere. I’ll find her and send her here to show you around and get you started.”

“Thanks for giving me this chance,” Rose said as Amy turned to leave. “I really appreciate it.”

“I’m glad you were interested in the opportunity,” Amy responded with a smile. “Hopefully you still appreciate it next week when you’re sore and tired.”

Rose just laughed and Amy took that opportunity to slip back out in the hallway, leaving her on her own. She had just finished stowing her belongings in a similar manner to what she saw others had when a throat clearing alerted her to someone else’s presence.

The woman was a delicate kind of pretty with mousy brown hair and a nice smile and Rose didn’t think she looked like a pirate at all but the ease with which she walked with a sword at her side and the battered sheath it resided in spoke volumes about how appearances could be deceiving.

She introduced herself as Sally Sparrow and took Rose on a tour of the ship. She told anecdotes about the crew as they walked and promised to introduce Rose around when people were back aboard.

Rose shadowed Sally for the rest of the day, learning some basics about what she was going to be expected to do at the beginning.

By the time The Red Lady set sail the next day with her namesake captain at the helm, Rose had a few new friends and a rudimentary understanding of the masts and sails. Her heart thrilled as they glided onto the open water and towards the horizon.

This was a new adventure, a new beginning, and she was more than ready to see where it led her.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The Doctor sailed into the port of Leadworth as the sun set. He quickly went about the business of securing his boat in a slip and then headed into town. It was too late to do the shopping and restocking that he needed to do while here but it was just about the right time to get a drink.

It had been a while since he’d been in Leadworth so he wandered down a few streets, glad for the heavy weight of his leather jacket as the breeze coming in off the ocean turned cold with nightfall. The glow and muted noise from a tavern called The Rose and Crown drew in and he entered the establishment.

It was busy but not overly crowded and John quickly found a seat on one of the barstools, surveying the place as he waited to order a drink. It was a warm and inviting environment and the patrons seemed to be a mixture of sailors like him who were just passing through and Leadworth locals. That boded well for the quality of his drink if he ever got to order one.

As if his thought summoned the barmaid, the petite brunette in a green dress he’d seen doing most of the work in the tavern so far appeared in front of him.

“What can I get for you?” she asked with a smile.

“Whiskey, if you’ve got it.”

“We’ve got whatever you want,” she answered with a wink. She turned and grabbed a glass from behind her and then reached under the bar for a bottle of whiskey.

“Bit busy tonight for you being the only one working,” he commented as she poured him a measure.

Clara sighed. “My best girl ran off to become a pirate earlier today and I haven’t found anyone to replace her yet.” She eyed him critically as she pushed the glass towards him. “You looking for some temporary work, sailor? You wouldn’t look half bad in a dress and there’s some around here who like that kind of thing. Takes all sorts, you know.”

John knew the smile on his face was more like a grimace and probably twenty different kinds of awkward. “Um, no thanks.”

“Suit yourself.” The impish smile on her face told him that she had mostly been kidding.

When she came back to see if he was ready for another drink, he struck up a conversation again.

“You said your girl ran off to be a pirate?”

Clara’s mouth twisted into a sad smile. “Wasn’t really my girl, just worked here for a bit.”

“Ah.”

“But yeah, she sailed in here on her own, worked for me for a bit to earn some money, and then left with the pirate ship that just sailed out earlier today.”

John mused for a moment. “Was it The Red Lady? The ship?”

Clara pursed her lips, thinking. “Yeah, that sounds right. Pretty sure that’s what Rose said. I may work in a port town but I’m hopeless with ships and anything associated with them.”

John was going to push for a confirmation, fairly sure the woman knew more than she was letting on but someone called for Clara from the other end of the bar. She flashed John one more quick smile and went back to work.

He stared into his drink after she left, mulling over the information he’d gleaned. He had halfway been hoping to catch up to The Red Lady at some point.

Captain Pond was supposed to be one of the best and he wouldn’t have minded spending some time on her crew while he figured out how to best going about getting a ship and crew of his own back.

He tossed the rest of whiskey back and reached across the counter to deposit payment where it wouldn’t be swiped by another patron before the brunette, who he assumed was the tavern owner, could get to it.

John stepped back out into the chilly air and headed back towards his stolen ship. There was no time to lament lost opportunities. He always had been one for making his own destiny the hard way and getting back to a captaincy wasn’t going to be any different.

He stepped onto the wooden slats of the main dock and started scanning for his small ship in the darkness. John was starting to think that he was looking in the wrong area when his eyes alit on a very familiar silhouette bobbing gently on the water.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said flatly to the empty night.

It was his ship - the one that had been stolen while he was briefly incarcerated in Powell. He’d calculated the odds of ever seeing it again to be astronomically against him but here it was.

Pausing only to make sure the knife in his boot was loose and easy to draw, the Doctor boarded his stolen ship, ready to steal it back if he had to.

He was silent on the familiar deck and quickly determined that there was no one aboard. It looked like whoever had been sailing it had taken good care of her and had moved on recently, judging from the lack of dust on anything. There was no food or personal items lying about either. In fact, the whole ship was near spotless like whoever had occupied her wanted to make her perfect for the next sailor to board.

John smiled as he ran his fingertips over the wall of the sleeping quarters. He’d missed this quaint little ship.

He went to the ship he’d been sailing for the past month and a half and grabbed his bedroll and a few items that he liked to keep close before heading back to his newly reacquired ship to get some sleep.

As he crawled into bed, John knocked his pillow off the bed and then further under the bed when he tried to grope for it without getting up.

Grumbling, he rolled back out of bed and dropped to his hands and knees to look under the bed. His pillow was there along with a couple of hair pins that were definitely not his. Curious to see if the thief had left behind any other clues to their identity, he fetched the lit lantern from the nightstand and let the light shine on the shadowy space beneath the bed.

The only other thing that had been left behind in this forgotten space was a small bronze brooch inset with red glass stones. The lattice work and the stones formed a simple rose. The piece didn’t look particularly valuable but it looked carefully polished, like it had meant something to its owner.

John set it on the nightstand and watched it twinkle in the lantern light for a few seconds before leaning over and dousing the lantern for the night.

[asarahworld-writes]

Soulmates

By most standards, Rose Tyler was a normal girl. She lived with her mum, worked in a shop, went out with her boyfriend. The strangest thing most people knew about her was that she never wore a bikini, but there was nothing weird about wearing different clothing in and of itself. Rose Tyler had not one, but three soul marks. Or at least, that’s what Rose and her mum assumed they were, for Rose’s marks were made of intricate circular patterns. The largest wrapped completely around her waist, across both her stomach and back, another (which, from what Rose could make of the pattern, was a question) was on the left side of her chest; the third covered her heart.

“Are you really the Doctor?”

He swallowed. “Rose. You’ve seen me change my face, why is it so difficult to believe that my face can be on more than one version of myself?”

“Answer my question.” Rose didn’t know what to think. She had gone to Norway (Norway!) to cross back into her home dimension and stay with the Doctor. Now, she was back on the Tyler Estate with a man who wore the same face as the Doctor, who had assured her that he truly was just another incarnation of the Time Lord, albeit a half-human one.

“Yes.” He said earnestly. “I am the Doctor. Blew up your job the first day we met, remember? Nestene Consciousness. Plastic Rickey. Travelled time and space until I regenerated.”

Rose smiled a bit at the memories. One of a man with a different face who wore a leather jacket, one of a man with the same face trying to convince her of the same thing.

“See? Now, I’ll tell you, I don’t know who I am beyond the Doctor right now. Seems like metacrisis is a bit like regeneration. Same memories. Well, when I say a bit, I mean really a little. Tiny bit. Mostly different,” he began to babble.

“On the beach…. At Bad Wolf Bay, you said that…” She didn’t know how to start relaying what she was thinking.

“I said ‘Rose Tyler, I have always been in love with you’.” The Doctor looked at her, love radiating in his chocolate eyes.

“Yeah.” Rose was quiet. “You’re the Doctor.” He nodded, his eyes channeling his concern as he silently begged her to tell him was wrong. “You can read this then? The swirling stuff?” Rose discarded her leather jacket and pulled her shirt up so that her midriff was visible. The Doctor stared at her soul mark in shock.

“That’s… that’s circular Gallifreyan,” he said quietly.

“What’s it say?” Rose asked softly, her curiosity warring with her desire to leave the Doctor’s past in the past.

“And Rose, before I go, I just want to tell you, you were fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. And you know what? So was I.” He said from memory, glancing quickly at the tattoo to confirm what he had translated. Words from a different lifetime, spoken so long ago.

“That’s…that’s what you said in the TARDIS. Right after the Game Station. Before you regenerated.” Rose remembered. She had thought her Doctor dead or kidnapped, replaced by a stranger. “So, he was…” She closed her eyes, remembering her first Doctor. “I’ve got three, though. All in the same…circular Gallifreyan.”

“The three regenerations of the Doctor you know,” the Doctor surmised quietly.

Rose hesitated briefly. “Doctor?” His eyes met hers instantly and that was all she needed to take the tee shirt off completely.

The Doctor could have kicked his Time Lord self for using those words. “Does it need saying?” He drew a deep breath. “Rose, I…” How could he explain why he had used those words? How it broke his other self’s hearts to even think of them.

She had already buried her face in his chest, wrapping her arms around the half-human Doctor. Rose knew that he was her Doctor, in the same way that both incarnations of the Time Lord had been. “How’s that sentence end, Doctor?” She asked quietly.

“I love you. I have been in love with you since before my regeneration. I felt myself begin to fall for you on Platform One when you completely okay with aliens who didn’t look humanoid. When you listened to me talk about my fallen people and simply asked if I wanted to get chips. You didn’t care that I got the flight a bit wrong when we landed in 1869. When you grabbed my hand in the dungeon or tried to save Gwyneth. Downing Street, when you showed me just how much you trusted me. I couldn’t abandon you in 1987. Dancing during the Blitz. The Game Station. There was never any choice then. I couldn’t leave you to the Daleks. It was…” He smiled, “Rose Tyler and the Doctor.”

“Don’t translate the third one. Don’t read it. Please.” Rose said quietly. “Promise me.”

The Doctor bent his head down to touch hers. “I won’t,” he swore, before touching his lips to hers.