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Title: I Can't Lose Him Too (4/?)
Series: Daddy's Girl
Characters: Ten2 and his daughter Sarah (OC), AU Donna, AU River, AU Jack, mentions of Rose
Genre: Character Study. Angst
Rating: PG
Warnings: AU Ruver bashing (yes, I hate her so much that I would create an AU version of her just to bash her, but if you happen to like her it's not that bad.)
Summary: Sarah has an average day at school, but what happens when she gets a phone call.
Author's Note: This is the third in the "Daddy's Girl" Series.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Dad’s still in the same room as before, as I lead Sampson and let Greyson rest in his carrier in my backpack. I feel might gut tighten slightly wondering if there will be any change and praying that it’s an improvement.
“Hey, Dad,” I whisper before the door is fully open.
“He’s not awake,” I hear a voice flit over to my ears.
“River?” I ask startled. “Why are you here?”
She smiles perfectly white teeth through her red lipstick.
“The same reason you’re here,” she replies.
That’s not possible.
I nod at her answer, as I walk up to Dad’s bed, gently laying my hand on his chest. Feeling his heart continue flutter beneath my touch brings mixed feeling of pain and joy.
“He needs someone to look after him, when you’re not here,” River tells me, as she moves closer to me.
I take Dad’s hand in mine gently place the picture Lilly drew under it, hoping that somehow he would know what it was.
“He’s got someone,” I tell her motioning to the picture of Mum.
“Sweetheart,” River says moving even closer, and reaching out a hand as if to lay on my shoulder, but thinking better of it. “Don’t you want someone who can actually love him here?”
“Mum loves him,” I told her flatly.
“She loved him,” River tells me.
I want to yell at her, to scream that Mum’s love never ended, but I don’t.
“Love doesn’t end with them,” I said, swallowing and looking back at Mum’s picture, couldn’t River see how happy they were? How could she want to end that?
“Everything ends.”
“You don’t know Mum.”
“Neither do you.”
I’m taken aback as those words fly out of her mouth and slam into me. They hurt. They tear through me and make me feel physically ill. I may have never met Mum, but I know her. Dad made sure of that. I’ve never felt that I was missing anyone, because Dad brought her alive for me, and I suppose, I did the same for him.
I look up at River’s face, but quickly turn my head towards the floor, still holding Dad’s hand tightly in my own. The fleeting glance that I get is filled with remorse and apology, but I can’t accept it.
“I sorry,” she whispers anyway.
Don’t bother being sorry, it’s too late for that.
“’S’all right,” I mutter.
“Sarah…”
“Could you leave us alone, please?” my voice breaks on the last word, not bothering to look up, as I hear her high heels click and the door slide shut.
I bring Dad’s hand up to my cheek. It’s cold, I think to myself, as I subconsciously pull the thin hospital sheets farther up his shoulders.
“Don’t listen to her, Mum loves you more than anything, Dad,” I promise him.
“Rose?” the deep throaty whimper escaped Dad’s throat and is so soft I feel like I’ve imagined it.
“Dad?” I whisper to him. “Dad!?” I say more frantically shaking his shoulder roughly, but he doesn’t make a reply. Maybe I am losing it on only four hours of sleep. He can’t even verbalize he has that breathing tube in his throat.
I don’t know what I’m thinking with, not my brain certainly. His lack of response makes me feel like I’m miles away from him, even though I’m holding his hand. I have an overwhelming need to be wrapped in his arms. I want him to hold me instead of me holding him. Everything feels so backwards and flip-flopped, and it’s not fair.
Numbly and feeling childish, I crawl slowly and carefully into his bed making sure not to jostle any of the tubes and wires that seemed to be multiplying by the minute. I remember the first time I did this all those years ago, when I was plagued with horrible nightmares, and Dad would hold me for hours after I snuck into his room. Only now, I wasn’t met by his strong arms, just the hard reality that he wasn’t really here.
***
I finally leave the hospital and drop Greyson and Sampson at home, before grabbing my bike back up and riding three blocks up the street to Donna’s house to try and finish a history project that’s due in three weeks.
Its lunchtime, I realize as I glance at my watch, and I can’t remember the last thing I ate. My stomach isn’t what feels empty though.
I knock three times on the door before stepping back when I hear racing footsteps from inside and a loud slam on the other side of the yellow wooden door. Giggles penetrate the door when Donna’s head pokes out and shoves male out of the way.
“Watch it!” the figure yells in a voice I know to be Jack’s, Donna’s eighteen year-old brother.
“Oi!” Donna yells back, as she steps out on to the porch and grins at me questioningly. “What are you doing here?”
“History project, building a ziggurat?” I say gesturing widely.
“I know,” Donna says, drawing me inside. “I just thought you might wanna take some form of break, you look exhausted.”
Do I? I feel it, but I usually do fairly well at hiding what I’m feeling.
“I was up a bit late,” I say.
“How late?” Donna asks, crossing arms and leading me into her room, where we had already built the structure of the stair-stepped pyramid and had the paint set out to finish it.
“Oh, hey, you built the tiny Mesopotamians,” I change the subject, picking up one of the miniature people and studying it in my hands.
Donna’s glare burns through me; it always does. I don’t know why; when I asked Dad he only grinned.
“I got home at two in the morning,” I told her honestly. “But, I’m fine.”
“I thought you headed home about ten?” Donna asks, as I uncap the gray paint and squirt it onto a paper plate.
“I did, I got called back,” I say skirting over the subject and picking up a brush.
I carefully brush over the foam in a monotone gray as Donna picks up a brush and joins in. I can imagine the mixture of concern and
question on her face, but I don’t allow myself to look at her directly. She loves me too much to for me to hurt her.
“Are you okay?” She asks.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I tell her.
I think I’m fine, right? I’m fine…I’m better than Dad is, I think.
“Did you see him today?” Donna asks, setting down her brush and scooting next to me as she gingerly takes my own brush from my hands and lays it down.
“Yeah.”
I’m fairly certain that Donna is going to inquire further, but I don’t want to volunteer information I don’t have to.
“Well?” Donna says nudging me. “How is he?”
I take a deep breath and weigh the thoughts the swirl around in my head.
“Bad,” I tell her honestly and spill the whole story.
***
I really need to learn how to not open up to Donna, but she’s just…well…Donna.
“He’ll be fine,” she tells me confidently. “Besides, he’s the best history teacher I’ve had, even if he does disappear every now and then with Torchwood stuff. We need him to get through the Muggle’s cave.”
I nod and lean back against the foot of her bed.
“You need an easy ‘A’,” I joke wiping a stray tear away and punching her shoulder.
“If I wanted an easy ‘A’ I wouldn’t be building tiny Mesopotamians or even in your Dad’s class,” she protests, clearly glad to see me smile.
I open my mouth to retort that his class is far from difficult, but I hear Jack’s footsteps padding across the hallway outside Donna’s room. The door swung open to reveal the grinning face of Jack. His hair was slicked neatly to one side, as his stunning blues eyes shined. He leaned his muscular frame against the doorframe and shoved his hands in jeans pockets.
“What are you girls giggling about?” he asks.
“Boys,” Donna jokes, getting to her feet and trying to shove Jack out of the door.
“Oi!” Jack exclaims. “I came for a reason!”
“What?” I ask getting to my feet and smoothing out my jeans from sitting cross-legged.
“River called,” he told me motioning to the phone in his grip. “She said something about you needing to stay with her tonight.”
My heart drops slightly, but I nod and make a slight move towards the door.
“Right,” I mutter. “I better get going then.”
“You can stay here tonight, Sarah,” Donna says quickly. “Right, Jack?”
Jack hesitates for a minute, but he nod with another dazzling smile.
“Sure,” he says, as he leaves to call River back.”
Series: Daddy's Girl
Characters: Ten2 and his daughter Sarah (OC), AU Donna, AU River, AU Jack, mentions of Rose
Genre: Character Study. Angst
Rating: PG
Warnings: AU Ruver bashing (yes, I hate her so much that I would create an AU version of her just to bash her, but if you happen to like her it's not that bad.)
Summary: Sarah has an average day at school, but what happens when she gets a phone call.
Author's Note: This is the third in the "Daddy's Girl" Series.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Dad’s still in the same room as before, as I lead Sampson and let Greyson rest in his carrier in my backpack. I feel might gut tighten slightly wondering if there will be any change and praying that it’s an improvement.
“Hey, Dad,” I whisper before the door is fully open.
“He’s not awake,” I hear a voice flit over to my ears.
“River?” I ask startled. “Why are you here?”
She smiles perfectly white teeth through her red lipstick.
“The same reason you’re here,” she replies.
That’s not possible.
I nod at her answer, as I walk up to Dad’s bed, gently laying my hand on his chest. Feeling his heart continue flutter beneath my touch brings mixed feeling of pain and joy.
“He needs someone to look after him, when you’re not here,” River tells me, as she moves closer to me.
I take Dad’s hand in mine gently place the picture Lilly drew under it, hoping that somehow he would know what it was.
“He’s got someone,” I tell her motioning to the picture of Mum.
“Sweetheart,” River says moving even closer, and reaching out a hand as if to lay on my shoulder, but thinking better of it. “Don’t you want someone who can actually love him here?”
“Mum loves him,” I told her flatly.
“She loved him,” River tells me.
I want to yell at her, to scream that Mum’s love never ended, but I don’t.
“Love doesn’t end with them,” I said, swallowing and looking back at Mum’s picture, couldn’t River see how happy they were? How could she want to end that?
“Everything ends.”
“You don’t know Mum.”
“Neither do you.”
I’m taken aback as those words fly out of her mouth and slam into me. They hurt. They tear through me and make me feel physically ill. I may have never met Mum, but I know her. Dad made sure of that. I’ve never felt that I was missing anyone, because Dad brought her alive for me, and I suppose, I did the same for him.
I look up at River’s face, but quickly turn my head towards the floor, still holding Dad’s hand tightly in my own. The fleeting glance that I get is filled with remorse and apology, but I can’t accept it.
“I sorry,” she whispers anyway.
Don’t bother being sorry, it’s too late for that.
“’S’all right,” I mutter.
“Sarah…”
“Could you leave us alone, please?” my voice breaks on the last word, not bothering to look up, as I hear her high heels click and the door slide shut.
I bring Dad’s hand up to my cheek. It’s cold, I think to myself, as I subconsciously pull the thin hospital sheets farther up his shoulders.
“Don’t listen to her, Mum loves you more than anything, Dad,” I promise him.
“Rose?” the deep throaty whimper escaped Dad’s throat and is so soft I feel like I’ve imagined it.
“Dad?” I whisper to him. “Dad!?” I say more frantically shaking his shoulder roughly, but he doesn’t make a reply. Maybe I am losing it on only four hours of sleep. He can’t even verbalize he has that breathing tube in his throat.
I don’t know what I’m thinking with, not my brain certainly. His lack of response makes me feel like I’m miles away from him, even though I’m holding his hand. I have an overwhelming need to be wrapped in his arms. I want him to hold me instead of me holding him. Everything feels so backwards and flip-flopped, and it’s not fair.
Numbly and feeling childish, I crawl slowly and carefully into his bed making sure not to jostle any of the tubes and wires that seemed to be multiplying by the minute. I remember the first time I did this all those years ago, when I was plagued with horrible nightmares, and Dad would hold me for hours after I snuck into his room. Only now, I wasn’t met by his strong arms, just the hard reality that he wasn’t really here.
***
I finally leave the hospital and drop Greyson and Sampson at home, before grabbing my bike back up and riding three blocks up the street to Donna’s house to try and finish a history project that’s due in three weeks.
Its lunchtime, I realize as I glance at my watch, and I can’t remember the last thing I ate. My stomach isn’t what feels empty though.
I knock three times on the door before stepping back when I hear racing footsteps from inside and a loud slam on the other side of the yellow wooden door. Giggles penetrate the door when Donna’s head pokes out and shoves male out of the way.
“Watch it!” the figure yells in a voice I know to be Jack’s, Donna’s eighteen year-old brother.
“Oi!” Donna yells back, as she steps out on to the porch and grins at me questioningly. “What are you doing here?”
“History project, building a ziggurat?” I say gesturing widely.
“I know,” Donna says, drawing me inside. “I just thought you might wanna take some form of break, you look exhausted.”
Do I? I feel it, but I usually do fairly well at hiding what I’m feeling.
“I was up a bit late,” I say.
“How late?” Donna asks, crossing arms and leading me into her room, where we had already built the structure of the stair-stepped pyramid and had the paint set out to finish it.
“Oh, hey, you built the tiny Mesopotamians,” I change the subject, picking up one of the miniature people and studying it in my hands.
Donna’s glare burns through me; it always does. I don’t know why; when I asked Dad he only grinned.
“I got home at two in the morning,” I told her honestly. “But, I’m fine.”
“I thought you headed home about ten?” Donna asks, as I uncap the gray paint and squirt it onto a paper plate.
“I did, I got called back,” I say skirting over the subject and picking up a brush.
I carefully brush over the foam in a monotone gray as Donna picks up a brush and joins in. I can imagine the mixture of concern and
question on her face, but I don’t allow myself to look at her directly. She loves me too much to for me to hurt her.
“Are you okay?” She asks.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I tell her.
I think I’m fine, right? I’m fine…I’m better than Dad is, I think.
“Did you see him today?” Donna asks, setting down her brush and scooting next to me as she gingerly takes my own brush from my hands and lays it down.
“Yeah.”
I’m fairly certain that Donna is going to inquire further, but I don’t want to volunteer information I don’t have to.
“Well?” Donna says nudging me. “How is he?”
I take a deep breath and weigh the thoughts the swirl around in my head.
“Bad,” I tell her honestly and spill the whole story.
***
I really need to learn how to not open up to Donna, but she’s just…well…Donna.
“He’ll be fine,” she tells me confidently. “Besides, he’s the best history teacher I’ve had, even if he does disappear every now and then with Torchwood stuff. We need him to get through the Muggle’s cave.”
I nod and lean back against the foot of her bed.
“You need an easy ‘A’,” I joke wiping a stray tear away and punching her shoulder.
“If I wanted an easy ‘A’ I wouldn’t be building tiny Mesopotamians or even in your Dad’s class,” she protests, clearly glad to see me smile.
I open my mouth to retort that his class is far from difficult, but I hear Jack’s footsteps padding across the hallway outside Donna’s room. The door swung open to reveal the grinning face of Jack. His hair was slicked neatly to one side, as his stunning blues eyes shined. He leaned his muscular frame against the doorframe and shoved his hands in jeans pockets.
“What are you girls giggling about?” he asks.
“Boys,” Donna jokes, getting to her feet and trying to shove Jack out of the door.
“Oi!” Jack exclaims. “I came for a reason!”
“What?” I ask getting to my feet and smoothing out my jeans from sitting cross-legged.
“River called,” he told me motioning to the phone in his grip. “She said something about you needing to stay with her tonight.”
My heart drops slightly, but I nod and make a slight move towards the door.
“Right,” I mutter. “I better get going then.”
“You can stay here tonight, Sarah,” Donna says quickly. “Right, Jack?”
Jack hesitates for a minute, but he nod with another dazzling smile.
“Sure,” he says, as he leaves to call River back.”
