(Un)Welcoming Ceremony
Oct. 28th, 2009 11:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
milieva posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
milieva_ficsTitle: (Un)Welcoming Ceremony
Characters: Mickey, Rose, OCs
Warnings: Angsty baby-fic
Disclaimer: No matter how angsty the series gets I had nothing to do with it.
Prompt:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
60damnprompts: 60 days in the life of Rose Tyler: Day 60: Blue (Prompt Table)
Summary: Not all births are happy occations.
Author’s Note I decided to give up the attempt of writing these in order. Given I have quite a few at the end basically written, I thought I would start there and work backward for a while. Once completed the prompt table will read as a continuous unit, but I can’t keep the pace writing them in order. I just keep getting blocked. Not to mention the fact the whole S4 finale still is giving me issues with writing.
<< Previous : Day 59 : Borrowed
(Un)Welcoming Ceremony
Mickey was still holding the baby in his arms as they were shutting the doors on the ambulance. If it hadn’t been for her, Rose would likely have died in her room that night. He looked down into the little face for the first time and was surprised to see the clear thought and reason behind the eyes looking back up at him. There was so much intelligence in those eyes that had only been open for mere hours.
She must have known what she was doing.
It had been her cry that let him know something wasn’t right. He was helping Jackie with Billy when he heard the feeble sound. Looking down at the boy, he was quite sure it had not been him who made that noise. Hastily handing that baby back to Jackie, he ran out of the nursery and down the corridor toward Rose’s room, cursing her for what he knew she must have done.
Grabbing the door handle, he found it locked, which did not bode well. Rose hardly ever locked her bedroom door. Pounding his fist on the door he called her name, but the only response from the room was the same weak cry.
“Rose, open the door!” Mickey ordered, still beating on the door.
Still nothing but the crying.
Bracing his body, he backed up and prepared himself. Taking a deep breath threw himself at the door. It only shuddered. It took two more times before the lock gave way and he was able to make it into the dark room. The strong pungent odor of blood assailed him as he stepped into the room.
Flicking on the light, he gasped. Any number of years working for Torchwood would never prepare him for the state in which he found his friend.
Rose was lying back on her bed, her face nearly as white as the pillowcase she rested her head on. The rest of the bed and her night gown were soaked in her blood. In all honesty, he would describe her as looking dead. Rushing over to the bed, he checked her vital signs, relieved to find the ghost of a heartbeat and shallow weak breathing. He called her name again, but she didn’t respond. The baby in her arms let out another feeble sound almost of as if begging to be held by a warmer body.
Mickey cautiously loosed the child from Rose’s arms and cradled her in his, and both called for an ambulance and searched the room for something to wrap the baby in.
He never let the baby go. He was still holding her when they closed the ambulance doors. It wouldn’t be until a few hours later he would learn Rose’s heart had stopped twice in the way to the hospital. If it hadn’t been for the baby’s continuous crying, her mother would have likely died.
Looking down into those little bright eyes, Mickey knew she understood what she had done.
She saved her mother’s life.
Author’s Note: I never said I was good at happy. I believe I am far better at angst and death.
Thankfully, the story doesn't end here with the prompt list, and it does eventually get better. The story this is a prequel to and the rest of the stories which fall into this particular 'verse can be found on the Barcelona and Beyond Master List.
I hope you have enjoyed this story, for all its angst and woe.
(and I do mean that![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
othermewriter. I've watched you comment on it all night. ^.~ The stories after Through the Glass are much happier, BTW)
Characters: Mickey, Rose, OCs
Warnings: Angsty baby-fic
Disclaimer: No matter how angsty the series gets I had nothing to do with it.
Prompt:
60damnprompts: 60 days in the life of Rose Tyler: Day 60: Blue (Prompt Table)Summary: Not all births are happy occations.
Author’s Note I decided to give up the attempt of writing these in order. Given I have quite a few at the end basically written, I thought I would start there and work backward for a while. Once completed the prompt table will read as a continuous unit, but I can’t keep the pace writing them in order. I just keep getting blocked. Not to mention the fact the whole S4 finale still is giving me issues with writing.
<< Previous : Day 59 : Borrowed
(Un)Welcoming Ceremony
Mickey was still holding the baby in his arms as they were shutting the doors on the ambulance. If it hadn’t been for her, Rose would likely have died in her room that night. He looked down into the little face for the first time and was surprised to see the clear thought and reason behind the eyes looking back up at him. There was so much intelligence in those eyes that had only been open for mere hours.
She must have known what she was doing.
It had been her cry that let him know something wasn’t right. He was helping Jackie with Billy when he heard the feeble sound. Looking down at the boy, he was quite sure it had not been him who made that noise. Hastily handing that baby back to Jackie, he ran out of the nursery and down the corridor toward Rose’s room, cursing her for what he knew she must have done.
Grabbing the door handle, he found it locked, which did not bode well. Rose hardly ever locked her bedroom door. Pounding his fist on the door he called her name, but the only response from the room was the same weak cry.
“Rose, open the door!” Mickey ordered, still beating on the door.
Still nothing but the crying.
Bracing his body, he backed up and prepared himself. Taking a deep breath threw himself at the door. It only shuddered. It took two more times before the lock gave way and he was able to make it into the dark room. The strong pungent odor of blood assailed him as he stepped into the room.
Flicking on the light, he gasped. Any number of years working for Torchwood would never prepare him for the state in which he found his friend.
Rose was lying back on her bed, her face nearly as white as the pillowcase she rested her head on. The rest of the bed and her night gown were soaked in her blood. In all honesty, he would describe her as looking dead. Rushing over to the bed, he checked her vital signs, relieved to find the ghost of a heartbeat and shallow weak breathing. He called her name again, but she didn’t respond. The baby in her arms let out another feeble sound almost of as if begging to be held by a warmer body.
Mickey cautiously loosed the child from Rose’s arms and cradled her in his, and both called for an ambulance and searched the room for something to wrap the baby in.
He never let the baby go. He was still holding her when they closed the ambulance doors. It wouldn’t be until a few hours later he would learn Rose’s heart had stopped twice in the way to the hospital. If it hadn’t been for the baby’s continuous crying, her mother would have likely died.
Looking down into those little bright eyes, Mickey knew she understood what she had done.
She saved her mother’s life.
Author’s Note: I never said I was good at happy. I believe I am far better at angst and death.
Thankfully, the story doesn't end here with the prompt list, and it does eventually get better. The story this is a prequel to and the rest of the stories which fall into this particular 'verse can be found on the Barcelona and Beyond Master List.
I hope you have enjoyed this story, for all its angst and woe.
(and I do mean that
othermewriter. I've watched you comment on it all night. ^.~ The stories after Through the Glass are much happier, BTW)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-10-28 08:09 pm (UTC)OWW!
<-- poet says:
OWW! Good job!
no subject
Date: 2009-10-29 03:47 pm (UTC)I'm glad you liked it. Even though it was not very happy.
no subject
Date: 2009-10-28 08:32 pm (UTC)This is brilliant by the way!
no subject
Date: 2009-10-29 03:50 pm (UTC)I'm glad you enjoyed it.
Side note: I just recovered a file I had lost, which looks to be nearly a complete tenth chapter for Through the Glass.
no subject
Date: 2009-10-29 05:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-18 07:28 pm (UTC)I'm glad you liked it.
Thought I might share I just wrote another one. ;)
no subject
Date: 2010-06-19 01:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-30 04:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-14 04:44 am (UTC)