Earth's Mightiest Secret Santas

Rose looked at the man standing in front of her. He was nothing like her Doctor. Her Doctor had been a good man, trying to make a difference, trying to save the world.

That man? That heartless alien who looked at her with so much despise and an arrogant smirk on his lips? He was a ruthless killer.

And yet…

And yet, Rose couldn’t help but remember her Doctor had his dark days too. He had been so angry when he had met this lonely dalek that he had pointed a gun at her. His fury was as devastating as  storm, taking all in its way. But Rose had always been able to stop him, hadn’t she?

Maybe this alien, this Loki had no Rose Tyler to take his hand and tell him to let go; maybe he had no friend to share his pain; maybe no one had tried to understand him, understand his anger, his own fury.

… Or maybe he was just some psycho alien who wanted to destroy the world just for the fun of it.

Rose didn’t know. Nick Fury, however, seemed to know. He sounded as he was sure she was the person for the job.

“I was told you were quite the expert with psychologically unstable aliens. Well, Bad Wolf, he’s all yours.”

The nerve of that man! She was no Shield agent. She was working for Torchwood, not for him. And here he was, giving her orders.

“Oh, and before you call your little English friends, I must tell you that Peter Tyler let me borrow you for the day. A sort of Christmas gift.  His words.”

“What?!” Rose nearly screamed. She could feel Loki’s amusement, his gleeful eyes staring at her back, literally burning her. Keep calm and carry on, right? No need to make a scene in front of a dangerous alien. Still, Pete would hear about this. She’d tell her mom. Now, he’d be the one in trouble!

Rose sighed and turned her back to Fury- after all, it was not like he deserved her interest- and faced Loki.

He sat up, perching on the edge of his bed in the darkness, putting his face in his hands as he reminded himself for the millionth time why he couldn’t tell her. She was going to leave, despite every time she slipped her hand into his or kissed him or told him she loved him. He had never returned her sentiments, because it would hurt too much, admitting to her that he loved her entirely when he knew he was destined to lose her as soon as she finished work on that cannon.

He sighed heavily, standing up and heading towards the door, planning to go outside, maybe on the roof, to watch the stars. She had convinced him to do it with her quite a few times in the past month, and he found it calming, his focus on the universe forcing out all worries and doubts as he relaxed by her side.

But as he walked through the flat and passed her door, he froze. She was crying quietly, mumbling in her sleep. Ignoring every instinct telling him to argue with himself on why it would or wouldn’t be a good idea at this point, he stepped closer to the door, knocking lightly. “Rose?”

She didn’t respond, the mumbling quieting slightly as he opened the door, stepping inside the room and sitting on the edge of her bed, frowning in concern as he put a hand lightly on her shoulder. “Rose.”

She jerked away from him, her eyes snapping open, a few seconds passing as she reminded herself where she was, reassuring herself that it was all a dream. “Loki?”

He gave a small nod to confirm his identity. “What is wrong, Rose?”

She sighed shakily, sitting up more comfortably as she tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill onto her cheeks. “I told you I rarely got enough sleep, yeah?” He nodded before she continued, forcing herself to explain. “It’s the nightmares. Every night.”

He frowned, not making any attempt to move closer, to comfort her, no matter how much he wanted to. “Nightmares?”

She nodded slightly.

“Do you want to talk about them?” She nodded once more, sighing. “It’d help.”

“Tell me about them.”

She hesitated before speaking quietly, looking right through him as she responded, her mind preoccupied with the nightmares that haunted her every night. “They’re almost all from before I came here, ‘specially the day before. I thought I was goin’ to die, an’ he obviously did too. Screamin’ for me like I had the power to come back. An’—” She cut herself off, overcome by the memory but also holding herself back from explaining too much, from letting him know of the newest scenes, because this was still uncertain; she had to be sure not to say anything wrong, because she didn’t know what could end it.

For once, he forced the jealousy away, because she needed him unreservedly tonight. “There is something you’re not telling me.”

She hesitated once more, convincing herself that if this was going to work, she would have to tell him. “You’re in them too, sometimes. I lose you, an’ there’s no way of gettin’ back to you, no matter what I do.”

He didn’t respond for a few moments, still not used to how up front she could be about her affection for him. “Have you ever told anyone else about them?”

She gave a small sigh. “The Doctor.” And a pause. “But they’ve gotten a lot worse since I came here, an’ you’re the only one here I trust enough to tell.”

A tiny smile pulled at the edges of his mouth, but his concerned frown remained. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“Thank you for listenin’.” Silence stretched between them for a few moments, before she sighed slightly, slipping out from under her covers and sitting next to him. “I’m sorry I woke you up.” He shook his head as he cautiously wrapped an arm around her shoulders, attempting to comfort her, because he knew she still wasn’t okay, that she was simply putting on that mask that she had worn so often when he first came. “It is fine.”

At this, she leaned into him sleepily, shaking her head as well. “No it’s not. You should be sleepin’.” He allowed himself a small smile. “So should you.”

“But unlike you, I wouldn’t be able to.”

He hesitated slightly, because he was just as incapable of sleeping, constantly plagued by nightmares about everything that had happened on Asgard, from the battles to his fall. “I will stay with you.” A pause. “If you want.”

She glanced up at him, a light blush creeping onto her cheeks. “Will you?”

He nodded, silent for a few moments. “Are you ready to try to sleep again?”

She hesitated before nodding as well, pulling away from him and slipping under her covers once more. A few moments passed before he slowly, cautiously, lay down next to her, staring at the ceiling.

Silence stretched between them for long enough that he thought she had fallen asleep. But she hadn’t. “Loki?” He turned to look at her. “Rose?” “I love you.”

He gave a tiny smile in response before turning back to the ceiling, silent, and after a minute or two of watching him, Rose closed her eyes, because he hadn’t said it before now; he certainly wasn’t going to say it now, no matter how much she wished he would.

But just as she felt herself starting to slip back into sleep, he spoke, his voice so quiet she could hardly hear him. “I…” A pause, his voice getting even quieter. “I love you too.”

She felt herself smile, not responding as she fell back into a peaceful sleep, safe by his side.

In the morning when they woke, his arms were around her, his breath in her hair as he protected her from anything that could hurt her. Neither of them had suffered any more nightmares that night, subconsciously offering a solace to each other as they rested.

“Deck the halls with alco-holly…blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah! ‘Tis the season to get naughty… blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah!” After three glasses of whisky, Tony was feeling festive in his own way.

Pepper was trying to contain the disaster area, to narrow it down to just his office in Stark Tower, but ever since the Battle for New York he’d been unpredictable and irritable. It wasn’t easy for her, seeing him like this. Sure he was the type to start drinking at ten in the morning if he felt like it, and yes he could be obnoxious at times—scratch that, frequently—but it was always with a good heart. The first thing she had to do was get him out of New York.

A day later they were on the sundrenched shores of Malibu. The house was rebuilt and a day of rest and a forcible twenty-four hour detox had worked wonders.  Tony insisted they put up a tree though they only strung lights before he stopped her. “I’ve got this.” She eyed him skeptically, fearing she’d find some awful CG ornaments, or worse a machine intended to decorate the tree, which would likely end up torching a small portion of the living room. “No, you’ve done enough, Pep. I know I’ve been an ass, and the fact that you put up with me is my only saving grace. Go get a manicure or whatever it is you do when you’re not being my guardian angel.”

“A manicure? Oh, that’s cute, that’s adorable. I’ll go to the board meeting I’ve got to somehow get to in the next twenty minutes, and then I’ll work on the financial reports, plus sign the contracts for the  new venture with that hydrogen power company, and then maybe I’ll swing by to pick up dinner before I come back here and clean up whatever mess you’ve made.” She pulled her hair back and straightened her skirt.

He knew he owed her big time for this. She’d been infinitely patient with him over the last several months and he’d done nothing to earn it. He took care of everything while she was out, including dinner. He sent a quick text telling her to come straight home when she got the chance.

The tension rolled off her in waves when she flung the door open, dropping her bag on the counter and heaving a frustrated sigh. It was then she noticed the change. Soft music played throughout the house, the lights were dimmed and several candles lit in a clear path. She followed the lighted trail to the living room where Tony stood in a deep gray suit. The room was filled with lilies—always her favorite flower--in varying shades of reds and pinks; there was a bottle of wine and two glasses sitting on the coffee table, and everywhere the candlelight and twinkling lights of the tree cast shimmering, dancing shadows across the walls.

“Pep,” he began, “I know these months haven’t been easy, but I wouldn’t have made it through without you.” He crossed the short distance between them and took her hand. “Thank you. I might not have much of a heart of my own, but you more than make up for it.”

He led her over to the tree, which was glinting merrily in the corner. “I couldn’t choose one.” He pointed and it was then she realized the ornaments weren’t really ornaments at all. Numerous branches were weighted with bracelets and necklaces, earrings and hair pins. “It’s everything they had that made me think of you.”

At the top, in place of a star, rested a robin’s egg blue box. Tiffany’s. “Tony…”she couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Yeah, well,” he cleared his throat, “sometimes things that make me think of you make me a little nervous.”

Her heels were high enough that she could reach it simply by stretching. A note rested inside the first box:

                Pepper,

                Okay, it’s not officially a—well you know—but it’s a promise that someday when I finally grow up, there will be one. Okay?

                -Tony

The first Christmas was, there was no other word for it, awkward. Loki still felt a great deal of antagonism towards Midgard. Rose still hated being stuck on the parallel world. She had made an effort to capture the Christmas spirit, though she wasn't quite feeling it herself, but Loki was completely uncooperative. 

"I do not see the point, Rose," he sighed, stretched out on the couch the afternoon before Christmas, a hand to his temple as if his head ached. "It's just another stupid Midgardian festival. A holiday of pagan origins, dressed in the trappings of religion to conceal the fact that you all just want an excuse to demand expensive presents and get completely smashed."

Rose glared at him and stalked out of the room.

But she still had made an effort. She decorated the flat, put up a tree. She hung stockings and got Loki a few presents, though on that that afternoon she wished she hadn't bothered. And on Christmas morning, she burst into Loki's room and dragged him from his bed, insisting he at least pretend to have a good time. 

She was trying to pretend herself. Pretend she had a life she liked living. Pretend she wasn't still aching inside from the scene that had played out on the beach, in Bad Wolf Bay. Pretend she didn't still cry herself to sleep sometimes or toss through fitful dreams about the Doctor.

She knew that there was something hurting Loki too, something from that past life of his he talked so little of. So, it was for both of them that she staged Christmas, hoping to bring a little cheer into their half lives.

Loki sat down at the Christmas tree with extreme reluctance that morning. "I still don't see the point," he muttered.

She pressed her lips together. "Course there's a point." She handed him one of his presents. "You've gotta open this."

He stared down at the present in his lap. "What's this?"

"A present, you daft man," she replied, a corner of her mouth twisting into a smile.

"I didn't...I did not request a gift." His finger traced lightly over the shinny green paper. "I didn't think to get you anything."

She shrugged. "I know. It's okay." He looked up to meet her eyes, and Rose frowned to see his expression. "You a'right?"

"Yes." He cleared his throat, nodding, quickly turning away and turning his attention to unwrapping the present. "Thank you."

"You haven't even opened it yet," she laughed. Interesting. He had looked touched.

---

By the second Christmas, they had been joined by one more. Rose had traveled back to her world to help save the universe, and when she returned she brought with her the Metacrisis Doctor.

Over the course of the year, they'd slowly begun to accept and understand each other. Loki had come to enjoy her company, and he believed that she felt the same. He had offered his services working on the dimension canon, glad to assist her with something she was so passionate about. Yet, once she left, life had felt oddly empty. The flat felt like another void he was trapped in, silent and empty. Loki had impatiently, even eagerly, awaited her return. 

But when she did return, she was different. She had suffered yet another heartbreaking scene at Bad Wolf Bay - for by then he knew all of the first one - but then had ended up with the man she always wanted in the first place. 

Loki paced the flat on Christmas Eve. She had been phoning him at odd intervals as she traveled back to England, letting him know where she was and when she thought she'd be back. She warned him she was bringing a guest for Christmas. With a sigh, he had resigned himself for Christmas with Mickey or, even worse, her mother. Mostly, however, he just wanted her back. He wanted it so much he was slightly concerned.

She's just a Midgardian girl, a mortal. Friend, she may have become, but nothing more, he thought angrily, twitching back the curtain to look out at the darkening street. His heart sank. She had arrived. She was there, just outside, but with someone else, and not stupid Mickey or annoying Jackie. A tall, lanky man in a blue suit.

Loki scowled and met them at the door. Rose threw her arms around him in greeting, and for a moment his expression lightened. Then she grabbed the other man's hand and pulled him, smiling fondly at him. Left to close the door behind them as Rose began showing the man around the flat, Loki clenched his teeth and glared after them.

Christmas day was by no means better. By that time, it had been explained to Loki exactly who the stranger was, and already Loki hated the man. As he watched Rose wake the Doctor that morning, who was sleeping on the couch, with a kiss, he began to resign himself to being ignored. To being second best. Again.

The day progressed much as he would have predicted. Rose and the Doctor continued in their display of affections. They giggled and hugged and cuddled, and all in all made Loki feel positively sick. He took note that even at such last minute notice, Rose had managed to get the Doctor Christmas presents. And that she seemed more pleased to receive the Doctor's kiss (since the man had nothing to give her) than Loki's own carefully picked out and immaculately wrapped gift.

Loki scowled at the man through the Christmas film the three watched together. He had been relegated to taking the small armchair while the Doctor stole his seat on the couch, Rose nestled at his side.

He made his excuses to leave their company while the evening was still early. Rose acknowledged him with a quick, "Okay, night!" Adding a distracted, "Merry Christmas!" as he left the room. 

He knew he wouldn't be missed.

---

The third Christmas took a long time coming. The year stretched out as the human Doctor moved in with them, moved into Rose's bed. The animosity between him and Loki rose to an unbearable level, breaking out in icy fights and struggles for dominance. Loki tried to spend as much time as possible out of the flat, and for the first part of the year Rose saw little of him.

She also began to feel...strange around the human Doctor. She wanted to love him, she honestly did. She certainly liked being with him; she enjoyed the intimacy they shared. But she kept realizing that she was just pretending that he was the other Doctor, her Doctor. And he gave her constant reminders that he was a completely different man. 

She began to pull away from him, and they began to fight. And when he finally left,  moving out with a bitter goodbye and a promise to stay out of her life since she didn't want him, Loki was there to support her, holding her tightly as she cried and waving away her apologies for pushing him away in previous months. 

Slowly, they became friends again. Then, all of a sudden, they became something more. It started with a kiss, sitting on the couch, just finishing a movie. Impulsively, Rose lunged forward and pressed her lips to his. There was only a moment's hesitation before his hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer while her fingers twisted through his hair. 

It was just the beginning - both for the evening and for this new page of their interactions. The next months altered everything about their relationship except the closeness they already shared. And, as it did, they each began to discover the happiness they had both been missing.

Christmas morning dawned bright, pale sunlight striking the thin layer of white snow. Rose opened her eyes cautiously, blinded by the light that streamed through the window. She groaned in protest, and a slender arm snaked around her waist. Loki pulled her in, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. "Merry Christmas," he whispered in her ear.

She laughed softly. "You hate this holiday."

Snuggling against her, he made a small murmur of concession. "But I think it will grow on me this year."

The credits roll on the Christmas special on the telly, and Rose sits up with a sigh, clicking the TV off.

“What’s wrong?” Loki asks, feeling suddenly colder without her nestled into his side.

“It’s nothin’,” she says, eyes on the floor. “Just… Christmas.”

“What about it?”

“’S complicated. I don’t know. I used to love Christmas, but now…”

He just looks at her. She lifts her head, their eyes meeting.

“I mean, look at this place,” she continues hurriedly. “I’ve been so busy with work, I haven’t even gotten a chance to decorate or anythin’. Not even a tree.”

“A tree?” he asks, his brow furrowed.

“Yeah, a Christmas tree! You decorate it, with pretty lights and ornaments and everything. It’s a tradition.”

He nods slowly, clearly thinking how ridiculous the whole idea sounds. She’s told him a bit about the holiday, but it makes little sense to him. Yet another silly Midgardian tradition.

“It’s too late now, though, I suppose,” she says, standing up and stretching a bit. “Christmas is only three days from now, and I still have to work tomorrow.”

For a minute she seems to be elsewhere, her eyes hazy with memories, of what he doesn’t know. He just stares at her, noticing the vague sadness in her eyes, and he’s overwhelmed by the desire to do something about it, to take her in his arms, to cut down a million trees for her to decorate, to even bake if it’ll make her smile. But he stays where he is.

“Good night, Loki,” she says, finally back in the present. She gives him a small smile before leaving the room, and he stays on the sofa, mind working.

***

A few hours into the next day at work, and Rose is exhausted. She trudges through piles of paperwork, each form seeming longer than the last, until she feels like her hand is made of lead. Finally she looks up at the clock and it’s time to go. She heads out of the building, the cold wind refreshing as she steps outside. She decides to walk home, reveling in the hustle and bustle of the streets. They’re full of people and laughter and Christmas decorations everywhere.

She suddenly wishes she’d found the time to do something for Christmas. Things aren’t exactly cheery in her flat, though they have gotten better now that she isn’t always alone.

Loki, she thinks, a smile starting on her lips. If any two people needed some Christmas cheer, it was her and Loki.

She decides to stop at a street vendor’s cart, looking for something simple to bring home, something to brighten up the flat at least a little. Not much left, the day before Christmas Eve, but she manages to find a fairly nice Christmas wreath. As she pays the man, she notices something else, and she points to it with a grin. The man fetches it for her, and she heads home with a little spring in her step.

***

“Loki?”

She steps in the door, setting her things down on the table in the entryway. She walks forward into the doorway of the living room, and stops with a gasp.

In the middle of the living room is a good-sized Christmas tree, covered in twinkling lights. She stares at it in awe, her hand covering her mouth.

“Does it look all right?” Loki asks. He’s standing next to her, eyes on her face.

She turns toward him, and smiling widely, throws her arms around him. He hesitates, then hugs her back, smiling slightly himself.

She pulls back to look at him, her arm still around his neck.

“’S beautiful!” she exclaims. “But how…”

“I may have done some research,” he says, and she raises her eyebrows questioningly.

“Our neighbors had plenty of the traditional decorations, and lax security.”

Her eyes widen.

“You didn’t—”

He laughs. “No, Rose, all of their decorations are intact. I just needed to see them, and then they were easy to duplicate.”

She pulls him back into a hug, squeezing him tightly, her smile wide. As she hugs him, something above them catches her eye, and she pulls away to get a better look.

“Loki, is that… mistletoe?”

Above them in the doorway hang six little boughs of mistletoe, each tied with a red ribbon.

“I suppose; I didn’t know the name,” he says, looking up at them. “It’s a traditional Christmas decoration, isn’t? Our neighbors had some, I assumed that… What?”

She’s grinning up at him mischievously.

He’s about to repeat the question when she reaches up and grabs his collar, pulling his lips down to hers. For a split second he’s frozen, and then he’s kissing her back, his hands finding her waist, pulling her closer to him.

She had just meant to give him a friendly peck, but now her hands are in his hair and his tongue’s in her mouth, and he’s moving her backwards, pressing her into the wall. She moans into his mouth, and his hands tighten on her waist. His mouth moves against hers once more, and then he pulls back, his cheeks flushed and his hair disheveled.

“Perhaps all Christmas traditions aren’t ridiculous,” he says, his breath tickling her face.

She grins up at him, then reaches up and pushes him back slightly. He moves compliantly, and she steps over to the table, reaching into her purse and pulling something out, keeping it out of his view.

She steps back in front of him, her hands behind her back, her smile wide.

“I picked something up for you on the way home.”

She brings her hand up from behind her back, revealing another bough of mistletoe, tied with a bright green ribbon.

Kris, you are one of the most genuinely nice people on the face of the planet, and you’re the reason I’m part of this whole fandom. I wasn’t aware that tumblr fandoms were actually full of nice, lovely people—or that they could have welcome wagons, but you rolled one out and then just kept being your fabulous, fabulous self. Your writing is inspiring and consistently leaves me awe-struck, and just knowing that you exist in all your awesomeness makes the world a little better for me. You’re great, and I adore you. Also, your gift turned out about six times longer than I ever expected it to, but I hope you like it!

*****

They’d had another fight, one that had quickly turned into a shouting match. She’d been clumsy, careless trying to capture a Weevil in the Underground and nearly gotten her neck broken. It apparently hadn’t been bad enough having Pete shout at her and Mickey attempt to scold her; walking slowly back to the flat, head throbbing (the medic had said she may have a concussion), Loki did not say a word. He simply seethed, occasionally glaring over at her.

Rose sighed, throwing herself down onto the couch and immediately regretting it, holding in the groan as the angry creature in her head threatened to burst out. The keys fell from her limp hand onto the floor and she said quietly, “Go ‘head. I know you wanna shout at me. Go right ahead. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Loki stood in the doorway, arms crossed, face stony. “You were reckless today.” His tone was even and calm, but Rose flinched away from his voice. “You were reckless, and if you have been alone you would have been killed.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t, and I’m still here.”

“That’s not good enough!”

“What do you want me to say, Loki? I made a mistake, and I paid for it. It’s over now.”

“You could have died!”

“Why do you care?!” Without fully realizing it, Rose was standing, swaying and unsteady on her feet. “You’re so convinced I’m going to get myself killed with the dimension cannon, why does it matter if it happens sooner rather than later?”

“Because I don’t want you to die, you stupid girl!”

“What? All you ever talk about is how I confine you, limit you, how I’ve stolen your freedom and you can’t wait to be rid of me, what does it matter—”

“Because I love you! You are childish and greedy and care nothing for anything besides finding your precious Doctor,” he spat, “but you have wormed your way into my mind, a place where you have no right to be and for some reason I care whether you live or die! I can’t stand it! I despise what you’ve done to me.”

She gaped at him, at a complete loss for words as her head throbbed and shook; she staggered slightly. “You… I…”

“What hold could you possibly have over me?” he sneered. “You hit your head, and now you can barely speak. You’re weak, fragile, so easily broken. In the grand design, humanity is nothing, it is worthless. What does that make you, Rose Tyler?”

She glared at him, straightening with a power beyond her own, voice reverberating in the room and ringing with the echoes of the past. “I am Rose Tyler. I am the Bad Wolf.” Her voice was clear, and the air around her cracked with electricity. “I am part of the Time Vortex and I have stared into the Void. I have looked into the face of the Emperor of the Daleks and I destroyed him. I have faced false gods of pantheons across time and space.

“I am greater than you, Loki, son of Odin.”

The room clouded with rage, and Loki fought the urge to wrap his hands around her throat, breathing heavily as they stared at each other in silence.

“You know nothing, Rose Tyler. You believe me to be powerless, at your mercy, but truly I stayed because I could, because from here I could learn, and now you are of no use to me. Now I am taking back my freedom. You will not see me again.”

He turned on his heel and stormed from the flat without a backward glance.

At the slamming of the door, Rose staggered again and collapsed backwards onto the couch; her ears rang with energy and her head throbbed from the weight of the argument and the many tears threatening to fall. Her body felt too small to hold the flood of emotions churning inside her, but she did not weep. She did not make a sound.

Instead she lay down and stared into the upholstery of the couch until finally, against the medic’s orders, she fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

Even in her sleep she ached.

*****

Rose.

The whisper was faint, especially in the rush of the city centre, but it sent electricity coursing through her blood. It couldn’t be…

Rose.

She wondered if he was doing this on purpose; she recalled the night she had recounted Bad Wolf Bay to him, lying side by side with their eyes closed on her wide balcony underneath a starry sky. Her voice then had been as quiet as his was now, and he had not spoken, but she knew had absorbed every word.

Could he possibly know that the dimension cannon had failed?

The questions were pointless. Somehow, Rose knew that he was entirely aware of what he was doing to her now—he knew that every shiver of excitement down her spine was augmented by a stabbing pain between her ribs.

“Rose? Rose!” Jackie was shaking her, eyes wide, looking scared.

Rose’s attention snapped back, but there was a wondering look in her eyes that told her mother that she wasn’t really there at all. “What?”

“You just…stopped. Middle of the street, Rose! What were you thinking, you could have been killed!”

The panic in Jackie’s face gave her pause, but she furrowed her brow as the last words sent her back to the last night she’d spent with Loki.

Rose.

That voice was drawing her away, tugging at a string tied to her hand; she swore she could see it, red and shining, begging her to follow it away from her mother and into the city. She didn’t know why she trusted it, but she did. There was something right about it, something natural—something that told her if she didn’t follow it, she’d regret it forever.

Rose shook her head to move away some of the haze, but the determination to find the voice did not leave; if anything, it was stronger now that the world was clearer.

“Mum, I’ve gotta go. I’ve gotta… There’s something I need to do.”

Jackie looked up at her in confusion, gripping her daughter’s upper arm tightly. “What do you mean, what do you need to do?”

She pried her mother’s hands off and looked around, absolutely sure that she would know where to go when she found it. “I’ve just…I’ve gotta go, Mum, I’ll come back, I swear.”

“Rose, don’t!”

But Rose had already vanished into the crowd, leaving Jackie panicked and looking in every direction, trying to press fruitlessly through the crowds moving against her. She shouted for Rose a few times, but her daughter was gone, and Jackie slumped in defeat, afraid but resigned to returning home, finished with her shopping for the day.

There was a fear growing in the pit of her stomach that Rose might not return, and if she did she would not be the same. All of the sudden, the city around her had gone grey.

*****

Rose was running, her heart bouncing and thudding against her ribs with every beat of her feet on the ground. She didn’t know where she was going, but she knew where to go, taking twists and turns with practiced ease and never wavering from her course; she felt no doubt.

When she finally stopped she still didn’t know where she was except that it was where she was meant to be—even if she was unsure what that meant. She bent to breathe, hands resting on her knees as her chest heaved, and something rustled behind her. Startled, she turned quickly to see but there was nothing there. For the first time, a thrill of fear wormed its way between the excitement and hurt bursting in her chest.

“Rose.”

Again she turned, nearly losing her balance as she found herself nose to nose with someone she thought she would never see again. True enough, he had promised that she would never see him again.

“L-Loki?” Rose looked up into his face and breathed heavily, taking a tentative step backward until she found her back against a wall.

“Hello, Rose Tyler.”

“You told me you’d not be comin’ back.”

“I…did not intend to.”

“So why did you, then? To play mind games with me?”

“To…see you.”

“To apologize?”

“I was out of line the last time we spoke, if that is what you would like to hear.”

“You’ve been trying to go back to Asgard, haven’t you? And you can’t.”

His face remained clear of emotion apart from the split-second that he flicked his eyes from hers; in that moment he looked…lost. She knew that for him, returning to Asgard was the same as building the dimension cannon had been for her. Without a place to channel the rage, the frustration and the pain and the loss, it was a rising wave inside him that had nowhere to go. They had both failed in the tasks that had torn them apart. Rose wondered if once again the universe’s sick sense of humor was having fun at her expense, pushing them back together, mirrors of each other’s wounded pride.

“I cannot,” he said finally. “And your dimension cannon?”

“Failed one time too many. One of the researchers I was working with…died. Pete shut down the project. Surely you know that. Did you come to gloat?”

“I came to see you. You are…the only home I have left, I suppose.”

Rose sighed. “Look at the pair of us,” she said. “Got no choice where to be, gotta be home where it’s not home, barely got any pride left. Some people would call us lost, wouldn’t they?”

Loki allowed himself something like a smile. “Aren’t we, though?”

“Maybe a little. Down but not out, I should say.”

Slowly, cautiously, as though she were approaching a wounded animal, Rose reached for him, resting her hand gently on his chest, over his heart. One heartbeat. One solid heartbeat, drumming steadily beneath her fingers.

After a moment, one of Loki’s hands moved to rest on the side of her neck, strands of gold hair brushing over his fingers. She gasped a little at the cold press of his skin, but all he could feel was her devastating warmth and the gentle thrumming of her pulse.

“You’re not forgiven, you know,” she said, looking into his eyes stubbornly. “You shouted at me and left without a word! Four months, Loki. Four. Bloody. Months. And bloody mind-control to get me here! What the hell do you think you’re doing, Loki?!”

His face turned hard. “I merely led the way—you followed. You are here by choice, Rose Tyler.”

“And what’s this ‘Rose Tyler’ nonsense about, anyway? Always, ‘Rose Tyler this’, ‘Rose Tyler that’. Rose is a perfectly good name, no matter what’s going on in that head of yours.”

Loki groaned, the sound shaking under Rose’s hand as it rumbled deep in his chest.

“What?”

“You talk too much…Rose.”

Without warning he jerked her forward, his hand now at the back of her neck as he kissed her fiercely. He could feel the warmth of her threatening to overtake him, to crush him completely, the overwhelming strength of the wolf slumbering in her chest as it started to awaken; something in him growled in response.

Rose tried to focus, tried to hold on to the stubborn, willful anger that had focused itself on him since he had left. She wanted to protest, to fight, to give him back all the hurt he’d given her threefold but it was all falling to the wayside as he pressed her back against the brick wall and kissed her harder.

They broke apart and Rose suddenly wished that Loki would look as disheveled and unsure as she did as he leaned his forehead against hers. She gasped for air while he merely stared at her, his breathing hardly disturbed.

“I’m still angry with you, you know,” she said, gasping slightly.

Loki furrowed his brow in frustration and leaned forward to kiss her again, deeply, repeatedly.

To Rose, each kiss felt like something final—something red and shining, drawing her away from her world and into something deeper. She couldn’t tell if that something was dark or not, but she thought it might be, if Loki was the one leading her there; the thought occurred to her that maybe he was just as in the dark as she was.

Lost things…

Maybe they were more lost than she wanted to admit. Maybe letting Loki back in was taking pomegranate seeds from the hand of Hades.

But the Doctor had taken Rose to meet them once, and Hades really wasn’t all that bad. Persephone, after all, was the bringer of Spring. Winter to Spring. Dark to light. Lost to found—or, at the very least, less lost.

“I Found You in the Darkness”

He was not naturally sentimental. He was cold, mean-spirited, and the biggest prankster the universe had ever known. He was disagreeable. Quick to a temper. And no one who knew him believed that he was capable of anything more than malice, deceit, and rage. But oh how wrong they had all been. Even he had doubted himself. Of course two millenia of being told what you are and what you certainly are not will make you lose faith in yourself.

All because of one mortal woman. Her hair as fine and pretty as spun gold. Lips the color of two pink buds blooming in May. She was radiant when they first met. So beautifully tragic in the aftermath of losing her first love. She'd been so lost, so alone. Just like him. She had always told him that he'd fixed her as much as she had fixed him.

The change in him had been slow. Almost undetectable. After she'd found him and taken him to her flat in London, he hadn't spoken for days. He'd adamantly sat, rim-rod straight, on her couch. Never saying a word. All condescending glares and sneers. Until the sneers had turned to quiet smiles. The incoherent grunts of thanks when she brought him cups of tea changed to tentative questions about her life, her family, her job. And once that dam had broken, he began to move around her flat during the day when she was away at work. Devouring her small, but poignant, collection of books. Listening to her CDs. Even going so far as to try to cook for himself. Thankfully, the few times he'd attempted it without her help, he'd been able to clean up before she made it home.

He couldn't exactly pinpoint the exact moment he'd fallen for her. Maybe it was the first night that she'd touched him. A gentle flutter of her fingers against his forearm. Maybe it was when she fought her own parents tooth and nail to defend him when they expressed concern over her living with a strange man from a foreign planet. Maybe it was the night of their first kiss. The candlelight flickering all around them. His heart racing harder and harder until it had been impossible to stop himself from whispering her name.

“Dean, I do not understand,” Castiel started, eying the small wrapped box in Dean’s hand. 

The hunter had wrapped it up with old newspaper, as were most of the presents under the sad looking tree, decorated with paper chains and cheap tinsel and car fresheners as ornaments; the collaboration of smells was unpleasant and all three of them kept their distance from the tree.   There were also tiny decorative glass balls, most likely the cheapest ones they could find in the store on such short notice. 

It was another cheap Christmas as the three of them gathered in this cheap hotel.  One of the very few they’d had and certainly Castiel’s first.  All these past years they had been far too busy hunting or putting a stop to the end of the world to be concerned with leisurely matters like Christmas.  This year Dean had insisted. 

There were no cases at the moment, Cas was back, they were out of purgatory, all of them back together at last.  Of course it was strained but all they had was each other anymore and Dean seemed more determined than ever to keep what he had, else he’d fall to pieces.  Dean never was good on his own.  Now more than ever.

“Just take the damn present, Cas.”

“But, Dean, I did not get you anything.”

“That’s alright, having you back is present enough.  Open it.”

Castiel took the box in his hands, staring at it as he contemplated how to respond, not sure how he felt accepting a gift like this.  It was a strange feeling, he’d never been given a gift before.  Angels didn’t get or even give presents, this was his first ever.  The fact that he was even being included, it meant more than he could ever voice.

At last he unwrapped the small box and opened it, and there inside was a rolled up blue tie, a far different shade than the one he wore now.  He took it in hand then looked up at Dean questioningly and then at Sam who was watching his expression curiously.

“I don’t understand,” he said again, looking between the brothers.  “Is my tie not adequate enough?”

“Well, yeah, of course...”  Sam faltered.

“I just thought you might like another to, ya know, change it up every now and then.  I thought about getting you another color but I thought a small change first was better, didn’t want you to be upset because your tie was suddenly orange or somethin’.  Ease you into it.”

“Oh, I see.  Thank you, Dean.  I am very honored.”