*shuffles nervously* Umm, fic. From me.

Have had this sitting on my hd for the last, umm, week thereabouts. Have finally got the nerve to post it. So, yeah. Be afraid. *grins*

Five Things That Rose Tyler Doesn't Regret
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG
Pairings: None, really. Doctor/Rose if you're so inclined. Which is, umm, everyone in this comm, actually.
Disclaimer: Characters all belong to, err, the people they belong to. Not to me.
Warnings: Character death. Present-tense fic. My first Who-fic and the first one I've written in *coughs* quite a while, and the longest one to boot.
Also: To those on the Doctor Who 2005 ml who've read this, I've rewritten the fourth part a bit because I wasn't happy with the original.

i.

Rose Tyler has always led what some would call a charmed life. Good marks in school, a top spot on her gymnastics team, and A-Levels which all but guaranteed her acceptance into the university of her choice. There's no real hiccup in the road that is her life, and everything goes as smooth as it can.

Uni is a bit of a struggle--her classes are harder than she's used to. But it's all worth it in the end when she sees the proud smile on her dad's face as she accepts her Journalism degree, hears her mum brag about how she'd go far to anyone who'd listen, and to those who won't. She and her boyfriend break up not long after, but it's alright, because she has a new job at the local news station and it takes up all of her time. There'll be time for romance later.

She climbs quickly but surely, growing more successful as the years pass. She meets a man when she's twenty-seven, a wonderful man with a bright sense of humor, and falls in love. They marry when she's twenty-nine. By thirty-one, they have a beautiful baby girl. By thirty-seven, a boy. And in between, she lands a post with the Beeb. It's nothing extraordinary, but it's enough for her. And throughout it all, she manages to juggle her home and professional life with ease.

She lives and loves and is loved by her family and friends. Her life is full, with everything she needs at her fingertips. So when she dies at the age of ninety-three, surrounded by her children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren, she does so happy with the life she lived. She can't imagine anything better than what she had.


ii.

She thinks, from time to time, of the strange man with the blue box. She wonders what her life would have been like, if she'd accepted his offer to travel with him. Never very seriously, though, always as a mental exercise of sorts. Well, daydreams, really, when times are dull at the shop and she has nothing else to think on. It's been over two years since that strange night with the living mannequins. Her boyfriend has managed to rationalize it, passing it off as a delusion brought about by something-or-other and refuses to talk about it. Sometimes she thinks he has the right of it, that they imagined it all, but then her hand closes into a fist and she remembers the feel of his hand in hers, and she knows he was real. Is real, and out there somewhere, still travelling around in his box.

She likes to imagine that he's happy; he looked so sad when she refused him, and it almost made her want to take it back. Almost. She's glad she didn't, though--what kind of life would she have lived if she had gone with him? It was dangerous, what he did, and she couldn't imagine she'd have enjoyed it much. No, better that she'd refused, and stayed behind to take care of her mum and boyfriend. They needed her, after all, and would have been heartbroken if she'd just up and left.

Yes, she could never have left her home and the people she loves to go travelling with someone she didn't know. She's happy now--found another job, a higher paying one, and is even thinking of moving in with her boyfriend. It isn't anything like going off and having adventures or the like, but it's enough for her. So she packs her daydreams away and goes back to folding clothes.


iii.

She doesn't hesitate as she steps into the TARDIS, doesn't turn back to look at her mum and boyfriend as she leaves them behind once again. There's a part of her that knows she was lying, that she won't be back in ten seconds. This is her life now, her and him and this blue box that can take them anywhere, anytime. She doesn't think she'll ever be able to leave it, but she doesn't tell her mum that. Better to have her hope than to know that her only daughter will never return.

He glances up at her from his position at the console, a bright grin on his face. She returns it even as she moves to take her place at his side. She laughs internally at that; they've only known each other for days, really, and already it feels natural, standing beside him, their arms brushing, her hands itching to take hold of his. She's never felt this way about anyone, before he came along.

She listens to his rapid-fire directions, lets herself get caught up in his excitement as they both start to fiddle with the controls. She doesn't bother to look at the monitor as the TARDIS starts to dematerialize. She's left that life behind and there's no looking back.


iv.

They're all but flying through the corridor, her hand held tightly in his as they run for their lives. She's not quite sure what they did to piss off the Drakaun, but they did and so they're off. She's found that's often the case when he's dealing with people he's not at all familiar with.

It's become a familiar part of her life, all this running around, both to and from danger. She's almost died so many times since she met him--so many, in fact, that she's lost count. She feels that this should worry her--this is her life, after all, that's being put in danger--but it doesn't, not really. It's all just part and parcel of being with him and she's come to accept it.

There are people she knows who don't understand why she stays with him, though. Not just her mum and boyfriend, but others, too, people they've come across in their travels. They experience going through all the trouble he seems to attract and they're scared off and they look at her as if she's insane for staying with him all this time. And they wonder and they ask her and she just smiles and says that they'll never understand. And they won't, because they're content to live their ordinary lives, going about from day to day with the same routine. She did that, before she met him, and she knows she can't go back to it.

He turns back and grins broadly at her even as he tugs at her hand, urging her to go faster. She returns the grin and increases her speed. Who cares what the others think--they won't ever know what they're missing. As for her, well. There's nowhere else she'd rather be and she wouldn't give it up for anything.


v.

She doesn't regret it. Any of it. She's glad that she stepped into the TARDIS to travel with a strange man she'd barely known for a day, tops. She's never thought she should have stayed home when he'd taken her back a year later. Their times running hand in hand towards danger are memories she's always cherished, no matter how often her life had been put at stake. She doesn't regret any of it, because he was in her life during all those times, and that made it all worth it.

And so when it comes, she doesn't have to think about it. She just acts. And even as she's lying on the floor, her breathing becoming shallower with each passing moment, she doesn't feel any regret at all.

He's ranting on and on about how he'd have regenerated anyway, you stupid girl, but she pays his words no mind. Instead, she concentrates on the feel of his arms around her as he lifts her up, the frantic beatings of his two hearts as he hurriedly carries her though the corridors and towards the TARDIS. She wishes she could tell him not to bother, that it's far too late, but the words catch in her throat and she knows he won't listen anyway. So she settles into his arms and feels her mind start to slip away.

She comes back to herself with a start seconds--minutes--hours? later. She's on the floor again, of the TARDIS if the familiar green glow is anything to go by. She can't see him, but she can hear him swearing up a storm as he hammers desperately at the console. She shivers, missing the feel of his arms around her and knowing that he won't be able to get her to the help she needs in time. It was too late the moment she acted.

Her thoughts start to drift again. Knowing that she doesn't have much time left, she tries to catch his attention, but he's too engrossed in navigating the TARDIS to notice. She lets out a breath and wishes she could thank him. He's given her everything--the entire universe, in fact. He's let her see things she never imagined existed, be a part of events that were utterly mind-blowing. And all he'd ever asked of her in return was her company. She smiles, one final time, as she recalls the warm smile that appeared on his face whenever she returned to the TARDIS after a visit with her mum--the smile that confirmed every time that she'd made the correct choice. And as she slips quietly into death, she still feels no regret.