Rose Tyler (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} by_any_other) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} lost_world,@ 2013-08-13 21:43:00 |
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Rose hadn't wanted to go to sleep the first night in the TARDIS. Part of her felt like sleeping was wasting time, and she'd already lost too much of it with him. But the other part was truly afraid she'd wake up in flat 48 of the Powell Estate, John Smith across the hall, Torchwood waiting across the city, and no hope of seeing her Doctor ever again.
She felt it strange to see her old Doctor again, strange to know that she'd seen what he looked like after this face, and after the face after that one. But she'd begun to love him when his eyes were that icy shade of blue, and the truth was that she didn't mind at all. In fact, it was a relief to look at him and not feel that tug of anger-almost-hatred that she'd felt every time she looked at John Smith. It was better, she'd decided, somewhere between 2 and 3 a.m., not to have to be reminded of what he'd done to her... to them both, but also to her.... every time she looked at him now.
It was inevitable that she finally fall asleep. Rose didn't remember being moved to her own bed in the TARDIS, but that's where she woke up the following afternoon. Of course, the TARDIS was sans-Doctor by the time she finally got up, showered, dressed, and ate. And then, with a huge grin at the inside of the door of the TARDIS, she went exploring.
Far stranger was this graytone world. She wasn't immune, and neither was her Doctor or the inhabitants of the world. No one acted as if anything were amiss, and Rose quickly acclimated. Up one street she went, staring through boutique windows and ducking into shops here and there. She quickly found that the money in her pockets didn't work here, and the faces on the bills weren't of the queen but of old movie stars. Even the city itself was named after a movie star. Rose wondered if this wasn't a deliberate part of their kidnapper's experiment.
She finally settled on a street bench and picked up an abandoned newspaper. Unfolding the front page and smoothing it out across her lap, she started reading. It was grim. Her mouth turned down as she skimmed the dark news.