Rose Tyler is Bad Wolf (_badwolf_) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-02-03 04:20:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, rose tyler, tenth doctor |
Who: John & Rose
What: Confrontation after these texts
When: Late January
Where: Their flat
Rating: Low
Status: Complete upon posting
Rose couldn’t believe it. When she had received that text from John, she had just stared at that one over and over, wondering if there was any way she could have misread it. Daughter. She had thought they had really made progress, really made a connection with their post traumatic wine and talk, but how could he not remember not talking about having a daughter? That seemed to be a pretty big thing to forget. The thing that nagged at Rose the most was if it was Reinette’s. All of the doubts that she had while talking to him floated back, wondering if this was something Reinette could hold over him. How old was the girl now? Did he have an open relationship with her? She had to be back in France with her mum…
Rose had paced the living room until K9 came in, asking if missus needed anything. Rose shook her head and went to her room, a place she hadn’t been in for some time. She had gotten so use to staying with John and even having her clothes in there that the second room became more of a storage space for her. She cleared off the bed and sat on it, cross legged. A daughter...She rubbed her eyes, as if she could wake herself and find that it was one of those strange dreams, but to no avail.
Wolf jumped up on the bed with her, sniffing the unfamiliar blanket and sheets. She pulled him into her lap and tried to distract herself with him until she heard the front door open, indicating John was home. Hear him out...don’t jump to conclusions or at least voice them. She closed her eyes, mentally preparing herself.
Upon letting slip, not that it had been an intentional secret, that he had a daughter left John in an uncomfortable mental space. The drive back to the flat was unsettling at best. Dreading a conversation with Rose was awful. Why didn’t he have a bloody time machine to flash forward to the point in which they had moved past this? Would they? Attempting to be optimistic, John further decided not to reach out to anyone for an assist.
He was an adult, after all.
Sitting in the car once he’d pulled into the complex, John’s hands lingered tightly on the steering wheel. Something Clara said tugged at the back of his mind--be honest. Did this count as lying? It had been a long time since John had seen his daughter, a thought that had him bowing his head ruefully. He hadn’t been the ideal father figure he set out to be, not by a long shot.
Inevitably resolving himself to the potential row in store for them, he made his way up to their flat. Following every routine he had upon returning home, John culminated it with a pause before his bedroom. Usually Rose occupied the space if she wasn’t in the living room. Knowing what that meant, he dragged his feet to her bedroom and sighed at the sight of her petting Wolf.
Knocking in the entryway, John’s uncertain eyes awaited whatever would be designing hers, “Knock, knock,” he voiced, unconsciously shuddering at the words. “Can I come in?”
Rose wanted to smile, to do something other than just nod her head at his question. But she felt a little choked up and upset for him not telling her about his daughter. She knew he was the kind of guy who may not have had the most tact, but they had just had an amazing evening together, one where she felt privileged to be a part of the few people who knew about his past. He had told her about Reinette, why hadn’t the daughter fallen into that as well? Deep down, she knew he didn’t mean to keep it from her, but that twisting pit in her stomach made her brush it from her mind.
She watched as he walked in and sat on the bed, a little tentatively. Now that he was here, she didn’t really know where to start. She looked down at Wolf in her lap and smiled down at him as he looked up at her with such big eyes. She glanced at John, then back down to the kitten.
“So...your daughter.”
After dancing over the lines of friendship, he had to go and muck it up. He couldn’t say he was surprised. John wasn’t known for thinking ahead, he took things as they came. It hadn’t been that he intended to keep Jenny from Rose, far from it. That was why he’d mentioned her off-handedly, not even thinking of the ramifications. They would be okay, wouldn’t they? As John gazed helplessly at Rose, he hated wondering to the contrary.
“My daughter,” he resolved himself to say. Scratching at the stubble on his cheeks, John resented the space between them. He’d just grown so used to being a part of hers, like no boundary had ever existed at all. Looking at Rose, it almost felt like she was trapped in a universe reflecting this one where he couldn’t possibly hope to reach her.
What a silly notion.
“Jenny’s her name,” he started, then reached into his back pocket for his wallet. Fishing out a picture, he passed it to Rose. The photograph was several years old now. He didn’t have any recent pictures of her. “That’s her. I adopted her a long time ago. Hard to believe she’s so grown up now,” John paused as he stared absently at the picture. It was apparent he missed her.
“Anyway, she’s… been away having her own adventures, suppose you could say.”
Just hearing him say the word made Rose shift in bed, but she stopped as he talked about her. She glanced at him, then down at the picture in his hands. It only took a moment of hesitation before she took it, glancing down at the girl he called his daughter.
She frowned, not seeing any sort of similarity between the two of them. She glanced at John as it sunk in that this wasn’t a biological daughter at all. Still…
“Adopted?” Her eyes looked sad as she said it but she looked up at him as he stared down at the picture. His care for the girl was very obvious and Rose looked down to study the picture again. She cleared her throat, handing the picture back to John. “She’s very pretty.” She adjusted herself on the bed, causing Wolf to jump off the bed. She watched him pad out of the room before reluctantly turning her attention back to John.
“She isn’t...Reinette’s daughter is she?”
At Rose’s praise for his daughter, he barely hid a smile. Jenny might not have been exactly blood, but he wouldn’t treat her as anything but his own. No matter the choices or paths she took, John loved her as a father ought, and nothing would change that. He nodded faintly as he took the picture back and slid it back in his wallet.
Then, he nearly choked. Coughing, practically floundering, he looked at Rose as though she had three heads. “Whaaaaat?” He shook his head, unable to process that. “What? No, no. Why? I may have -- with Reinette -- but, no that-- no,” he finished less than calmly, attempting to compose himself. “It’s not a terribly complicated tale, only that she lost her parents and so I took her in.”
For the smallest of seconds, Rose felt herself breathe. They didn’t have a kid together. John was just being his wonderful self and adopted someone to give them a family. Rose felt silly for having judged so quickly, but it only seemed the logical thought process after he had told her about Reinette. Rose wasn’t sure why, but she felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of her shoulders knowing that Jenny wasn’t a biological daughter between the two. Deep down, Rose was happy that there was nothing that would tie John and Reinette back together.
Still, she felt herself go a little queasy when John fumbled with his words. She had thought that he and Reinette had...well, done that, but it seemed to make it worse to have John say it out loud...in a sense. She shifted uncomfortably again, frowning just a little. She and John hadn’t reached that point in the relationship yet; not that it was a necessity. Rose was very happy with where they stood, knowing how much they had actually grown. But it was still hard to hear him talk about someone and being more intimate with them.
“Were you friends with her parents?” She had to get her mind off of the two of them.
Being so unable to read where she stood had John more at a loss than anything else. He couldn’t determine whether he was still in trouble with her. Deciding that bending to the will of her line of questioning worked best, he’d answer anything she threw at him as honestly as possible.
So long as it didn’t involve his dreams. Not yet.
“I was,” he nodded. “Jenny wasn’t terribly young when they died, but she still required guardianship. That was left to me, something I took on without question. Part of the reason I left France was to see to her care. Part.” He thought it best to reinforce that fact. “I’d other motivations, but Jenny was by far the most important.”
Rose’s frown grew a little, still not really understanding anything. She sat forward, her legs crossed, her hands grasping her ankles. It still seemed like he was keeping something from her, the way he kept some words so cryptic. She opened her mouth to say something about it and then closed it. She didn’t want to make it a big deal, especially since the biggest worry was out of the way. But were there other things he hadn’t told her yet? Things he couldn’t?
“At least she had someone,” she said softly, looking down at the bedspread. When was the last time she had slept in here? She tried to casually glance up at John, her hands working at a spot on her comforter. “I mean...having you there with her, especially after something like that had to happen to her. I’m sure you’re a great dad.” She gave him a small smile and sighed, looking back down at the bed.
“Had you thought you had told me about her?”
Running his hands through his hair, John sighed in an imperceptibly uncomfortably fashion. Jenny wasn’t a sensitive subject for him, only one he hadn’t actively considered in some time. He wasn’t hiding having adopted a girl in some need from Rose, not intentionally. Unconditional love or not, some choices he couldn’t entirely approve of electing to do.
“No,” he answered honestly. “I only hadn’t thought of her at all. Haven’t been in touch of late, I’m afraid. And she’s older now. Blimey, how old is she now?” Seeming to do the math quickly in his head, he exhaled suddenly, “Twenty-three? Two? Something like that. Not a little girl anymore, off being an independent woman and all that, rightfully so, mind you.”
Looking at her apologetically, John reached out tentatively to rest his hand upon her shoulder. “I don’t keep secrets, Rose, there are only things I neglect to remember to tell.”
Rose almost balked when he said her age. She was older then Rose? She looked at John, wondering if he had thought of it, but he seemed to be more concerned about her at the moment. If he figured it out, would he care? Rose really wasn’t sure how to think of the situation though; she was proud of John for stepping up to take of this girl. She needed a family and Rose couldn’t think of a better person than John. But what he said next was meant to comfort her, but she frowned. Neglect to remember? It still sounded like something he wanted to keep from her. But this is John! The man who was just completely honest to you about his prior relationship. You think he would really keep something from you?
Even though she felt a little dejected, Rose knew that she didn’t have a right to be upset at John. It was a lot to take in, but at least he was sharing it with her and not just try to hide it.
She looked down at the hand he had placed on her shoulder and reached out it, pulling it down but keeping it in her own and giving it a squeeze. “I know. It’s...just a lot, ya know?”
Silent as she absorbed his words, John’s gaze didn’t wander. He did, however, slouch so that he could peer up at her. No matter the pure intentions, facts could sting, and this must have come as some sort of blow. He had gotten involved with her without thinking to mention he had a daughter, adopted or not. Hardly feeling himself worthy of the touch she granted him, John wasn’t about to push Rose away either.
It occurred to him that she was younger than him then, though to what degree--he had no idea. Rose was clever, carefree, but mature for whatever years she possessed. He didn’t put stock in numbers, as it wasn’t the time that mattered. If he knew she was younger than his own daughter though, well…
John looked worried, “Too much?”
She gave a half-hearted shrug, knowing right away there was never going to be anything too much that John could share with her. But it would still take her some time to process it all. She looked at John and couldn’t help but give him a small smile when she saw the face he was making. It almost looked like he was just waiting on the edge for her to give the word. She moved over so she was sitting next to him and took both his hands in hers.
“Never too much,” she said, leaning in to give him the softest kiss on the lips. “But I just gotta take it all in, ya know? You’ve shared two really big things with me, things that I appreciate you did! But…” Another shrug. “Just a lot to process I guess.” She gave his hands a squeeze, but didn’t let them go.
“I think I’m just gonna stay in here tonight.” She hoped he didn’t see it as a sort of punishment or pouting. Rose just wanted to think everything through without rolling over to see him giving her the face he was giving her now. “But...maybe we can do something tomorrow when you’re off work?” Rose knew she only had a few more days with John before she was off for a rather long work excursion. She definitely didn’t want to leave things the way they were now.
He understood. Taking her at her word, John half-smiled in the wake of the kiss. They hadn’t gone about this indefinite thing between them at all the right way, but he didn’t care about that. They tackled it their way, and it was what kept him from feeling like other countries were suddenly whispering in the wings for him to flee. He’d put down roots here, made good mates, sorted out his wanderlust, and now--now he had Rose.
Standing from the bed, he kept her hand in his as he leaned down to press a kiss of his own to her forehead. “Of course,” he assured. “Whatever you want,” and he wouldn’t push her. If anything, he’d treat things the same way he always did. So, in the morning there would be waffles, coffee, and the silent reassurance that time could actually mend something for once.