[DISCONTINUED] Hazel Eyes - DW Fanfic

Chapter Two - Forever Nineteen

I’m working again. In my little workshop. Usually Lady puts it next to my bedroom. But you never know. Sometimes it’s next to the library. Or the Courtyard (Celestial Courtyard is much too wordy to say on a regular basis). Every once in a while it’s next to the pool.

The room itself is small. It’s got a concrete, industrial type floor and cinderblock walls painted a bright white. Two metal work tables fill opposite sides of the room with drawers and hooks built into the far wall. The entire room is covered with scraps of mettle, wires, tools, microchips, microprocessors and a whole bunch of other things not worth listing off at the moment.

I’m standing, leaning against one of the tables. In front of me the usual clutter has been pushed back to make space for my current project. I bite my lip as I try to wiggle a tiny screw into the circuit board. The whole thing is done with me looking through strong reading glasses. Not fashionable, but does the job when I’m working on such a small scale.

My hands work on their own. Literally. Because here I can’t control them here. Like my body and mind are unconnected. I’m me but I’m not controlling me. Here the scars on my wrists are fresh, unlike the faded scars that pucker my wrist in reality. Hidden under strips of tightly wrapped fabric. Here my age is never a constant. 

I hiss out a small smile when the screw finally falls into place. A couple more connections and this circuit will be complete. I’m so close. That is if it works. And it most likely won’t. I continue on anyway. I fuse the last few wires. Almost there, I’m so close.

Done. I pick up the shell I had carefully crafted with its shiny silver, white leather and pink crystal. My heart leaps at the sight of it. It looks like his. The old him. The one that laughed for real. I slip the new circuit into that shell. I screw up the shell and I can feel my stomach plummet. I’m excited. Not entirely by choice, I can feel the adrenaline rushing through this body.

I go over to the table on the other side of the room, gently clasping the screwdriver in my hand. Set out on the table is a sheet of thick metal with a screw perched with its tip just protruding the sheet enough to hold it from falling. I point my screwdriver at the screw and wait. Nothing happens for a long while. And then slowly, the crystal tip lights up and the screw creeps downward. I smile widely and the screw’s descent speeds up suddenly and next thing I know it’s jammed in so hard the metal around it is dented and bent.

I let out an excited whoop anyway, grinning widely. It worked, it really worked. Finally. I know I’ve been working on this awhile. I’ve seen this project before in other visits into this body. I know of the list of apps that I intend to add, drawn up on an old scrap of paper. So many possibilities. First thing on the list, wood. I can feel my muscles relax slightly. Maybe one victory is enough for today. I throw myself down in the chair which I had earlier abandoned and arch my spine. It feels so good. One victory.

Rose wakes up with a start. Her own heart pounding. She flicks on the light on the night stand next to the bed and looks around the small motel room. She runs a clammy hand through her slept-on blonde hair.

Those dreams always left Rose like this. Almost every night they came. And it’s these dreams that haunt her. The dreams where she can’t move. Where she’s not controlling what she does, what she says. Where she calls herself Ayaria and she’s never the same age. It’s like watching a movie within herself. The ending is already planned and there’s nothing she can do to stop it. The Doctor is never there, but she always dreams she’s in the Tardis. It’s weird. Sometimes in the dreams she’s talking to Jack on the com. Or sitting with Rory. But it’s all just a dream. Rory isn’t real. Jack is in the other universe. Amy doesn’t exist either. Just a dream.

But it feels so real. It’s so comfortable being her. Like Rose is slipping into her own skin. Coming home tired and sunburnt after a long vacation. And then there’s the things she knows there. Things she knows she doesn’t know in real life but knows in the dreams anyway. That’s how she learned all the engineering and programming, the dreams. It kinda feels like cheating except it doesn’t really bother Rose anymore. Living this long and there’s a lot you can’t bother worrying about. After enough time it all doesn’t matter. Poor Jack, by this year he’s nearing six hundred. I’m so tired after only three hundred, I wonder how he stands it. The thoughts resound in her mind.

Rose isn’t going back to sleep now. She checked the clock. Almost four, that’s not too early. She took a quick shower to wake herself up. It felt glorious, letting the hot water run over her tense muscles. She was almost never not tense anymore.

She got out after a good half hour and threw on a fresh pair of clothes. That was one thing that drove her crazy, the ever changing clothes styles. She would kill for a pair of jeans. All that she could find to wear currently were button up blouses made of extremely thin fabric that puffed out weirdly around her shoulders. That was along with metallic leggings and shoes that reminded her of loafers. God, styles were weird. Sometimes she had a little better luck at thrift stores.

Rose stuffed her dirty clothes into her overnight bag. She wanted to grab breakfast and get back on the road. She picked up her stuff and checked out with the night receptionist. The main people on the road these days were truckers so it wasn’t that weird.

She got in her car dropping the bag into the passenger seat. She put the key into the ignition and turned. Her car started up with an almost silent purr. Rose breathed deeply resting her elbows on the steering wheel. Just keep moving. That was the rule. She pulled out of the parking lot and drove around town. In the end she found a little truck stop diner that was open 24/7.

She pushed open the door and blinked a bit in the bright light of the diner. It was almost empty. A waitress came over as soon as Rose took a seat at one of the small tables. She looked a couple years older than Rose, or rather then Rose looked. Forever nineteen. The waitress poured hot black coffee into a mug for Rose without even bothering to ask if she wanted any. “Where are you coming from?” She asked conversationally, putting the cup down on the table.

“Louisiana.” Rose gratefully took a sip. Another amazing thing humans hadn’t gotten rid of, coffee. Good call on our part, she thought quietly to herself. Although a lot of people drank flavored teas now.

“Interesting accent.” The waitress commented. Rose still had her British accent. In her dreams too. She would have thought she’d lost that by now.

Rose nodded. “British. Moved here a couple years back.” A couple being only two hundred and fifty. London had had too many memories with him gone.

“And you’re out here all by yourself?” The waitress asked taking on a slightly flirtatious tone. Rose internally groaned. By different century’s standards she was varying degrees of pretty from cute to drop dead gorgeous. She’d had more than a few people come onto her. She wasn’t getting close to anyone.

Finally Rose answered. “At the moment. I’m heading up North to visit my boyfriend.” So not true. It did the trick though. The waitress took her order a little less friendly and headed back to stand near the kitchen. Rose sighed. Forever nineteen. Forever alone. And it was better that way.

Author's Note: Hey guys, sorry this part was a little slow. And possibly a bit confusing. I was struggling for words at the end. *cringe* I'm so sorry, I promise it gets better. Anyway, I don't really have much to say right now other then please keep reading, voting and commenting. Love you all - Tacoma

P.S. Any guesses where Rose is heading?